Disclaimers and story info located at Chapters 1 and 4.
It was the sound of Dawn mumbling in her sleep that rose an awareness in the slayer. She was still awake. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time as 2:17am. Buffy kicked off the covers and walked over to the sliding glass door. She opened it slowly and silently, so as not to disturb her sister. Stepping onto the small balcony, she closed the door in the same fashion, and moved forward the three paces to the guardrail, leaned on her forearms, and looked out on the city lights.
"Mind if I smoke?" Buffy looked to her left and was startled to see a woman on the next balcony, standing in much the same position, a cigarette in hand.
"Not at all." She replied. The woman's profile was illuminated briefly with the flame of her match. She looked to be in her thirties, pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair. She wore nothing but an over-sized t- shirt, which proved blue before the match went out. Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the scent of the freshly lit cigarette wafted over.
"You want one?" The woman asked, chuckling softly.
"No, thanks. I used to date a smoker. I'd forgotten how sweet it smells that first second."
The woman nodded, taking a drag and indicating the full ashtray perched on the rail. "I've gone through half a pack in the past few hours. Just an excuse to come outside. I keep thinking I'll be able to see my house from here. And my daughter."
"You live that close?"
"Twenty miles. But hey - stranger things have happened."
"True."
"So are you from out of town, or do you also enjoy vacationing a stone's throw from home?"
"Out of town. I'm from Sunnydale."
"Then I take it you're on a much-needed vacation."
"Actually, no. I'm adopting a baby." Felt weird to say the words out loud. Especially to a stranger.
"Congratulations. My daughter is adopted. Trust me, the second you see her, you'll love her like she were your own blood."
Buffy smiled softly, gleaning some comfort from the words of encouragement. "Thank you. That almost makes me feel slightly less nervous."
"Tomorrow the big day?"
"Crack of dawn."
"Hmm." The woman pondered, tossing her butt over the rail. Buffy watched the speck of red as it fell seven stories. "You know, that hospital won't be equipped to clean up a slayer's blood."
Jumping back from the rail, Buffy's turned immediately to her left. The next balcony was empty. No woman. No ashtray. Not even the lingering smell of smoke. Her mouth went dry, and she hurried inside, throwing on the light and looking for her purse.
"What's wrong?" Dawn asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"I don't know. Something." She reached the desk and her sensible, Mom-ish black bag. Turning it upside-down, she rummaged through its contents.
"Did something happen?"
"I was talking to a woman on the balcony. She said something about 'slayer's blood', and then she wasn't there anymore. She just. disappeared." The little slip of paper was suddenly in her hand. It had been received and folded over two years and twenty purses ago, but the numbers were still legible. She picked up the phone and began to dial.
"Are you calling Giles?"
"I have another Watcher in mind."
"Do you really think he'd help? I mean, with Faith?"
"Let's hope so."
TBC
It was the sound of Dawn mumbling in her sleep that rose an awareness in the slayer. She was still awake. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time as 2:17am. Buffy kicked off the covers and walked over to the sliding glass door. She opened it slowly and silently, so as not to disturb her sister. Stepping onto the small balcony, she closed the door in the same fashion, and moved forward the three paces to the guardrail, leaned on her forearms, and looked out on the city lights.
"Mind if I smoke?" Buffy looked to her left and was startled to see a woman on the next balcony, standing in much the same position, a cigarette in hand.
"Not at all." She replied. The woman's profile was illuminated briefly with the flame of her match. She looked to be in her thirties, pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair. She wore nothing but an over-sized t- shirt, which proved blue before the match went out. Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the scent of the freshly lit cigarette wafted over.
"You want one?" The woman asked, chuckling softly.
"No, thanks. I used to date a smoker. I'd forgotten how sweet it smells that first second."
The woman nodded, taking a drag and indicating the full ashtray perched on the rail. "I've gone through half a pack in the past few hours. Just an excuse to come outside. I keep thinking I'll be able to see my house from here. And my daughter."
"You live that close?"
"Twenty miles. But hey - stranger things have happened."
"True."
"So are you from out of town, or do you also enjoy vacationing a stone's throw from home?"
"Out of town. I'm from Sunnydale."
"Then I take it you're on a much-needed vacation."
"Actually, no. I'm adopting a baby." Felt weird to say the words out loud. Especially to a stranger.
"Congratulations. My daughter is adopted. Trust me, the second you see her, you'll love her like she were your own blood."
Buffy smiled softly, gleaning some comfort from the words of encouragement. "Thank you. That almost makes me feel slightly less nervous."
"Tomorrow the big day?"
"Crack of dawn."
"Hmm." The woman pondered, tossing her butt over the rail. Buffy watched the speck of red as it fell seven stories. "You know, that hospital won't be equipped to clean up a slayer's blood."
Jumping back from the rail, Buffy's turned immediately to her left. The next balcony was empty. No woman. No ashtray. Not even the lingering smell of smoke. Her mouth went dry, and she hurried inside, throwing on the light and looking for her purse.
"What's wrong?" Dawn asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"I don't know. Something." She reached the desk and her sensible, Mom-ish black bag. Turning it upside-down, she rummaged through its contents.
"Did something happen?"
"I was talking to a woman on the balcony. She said something about 'slayer's blood', and then she wasn't there anymore. She just. disappeared." The little slip of paper was suddenly in her hand. It had been received and folded over two years and twenty purses ago, but the numbers were still legible. She picked up the phone and began to dial.
"Are you calling Giles?"
"I have another Watcher in mind."
"Do you really think he'd help? I mean, with Faith?"
"Let's hope so."
TBC