Author's Note: From the livejournal community, writerverse, I was given 5 prompts: Umbrella, Zombies, Loss, We all survived, Not serious, and the bonus category of Metafiction. This is the result.
Buffy thrust the sharpened tip of the umbrella into the vampire's chest, watching as it exploded into dust.
"What ya doing, Buff? We need your help."
"Just slaying in the rain," she answered, shrugging.
Giles let out a little huff of laughter. Or maybe it was only cold. He was huddled with Xander and Willow over a picnic table, where they had the beginnings of a plan spread out across the damp wood.
"Your loss." She spun the umbrella on her shoulder, stomping in puddles as she made her way over to them. Her galoshes sent a spray of muddy water up over the battle plans, earning her a stern watcher glare.
"What?" she said, innocent.
"You're not being serious about this, Buffy." Giles pushed the wire frames back, adjusting his eyeglasses as he looked down his nose at her. He looked more like a cliched librarian than a capable watcher, and she grinned. "This could be the apocalypse."
"So? We'll be fine."
"Zombies, Buff," Xander interjected, making a sour face. "Nasty, grody zombies. You've seen Evil Dead, right?"
"Maybe," she said, admitting nothing. "But I've seen the final prompt."
Willow glanced up. "Prompt?"
Buffy grinned, triumphant. "We all survive."