because nobody likes a vague disclaimer: Most characters belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon. rated M for Mature themes.

Buffy POV.

Chapter XI: There Is Something Wrong With Me Besides Melancholia

from Melancholia by Charles Bukowski

†

It takes me exactly an hour before I decide it's time to move on again. Even though he's human now, and I no longer sense him, this room stinks of Angel. Besides, I never intended on staying here forever, and now is as good a time as any to leave. I pack the few things I have, take one last look at the room, of all the things I've done here, only the few moments shared with him are what plays in my head.

I board a bus to Tulsa, Oklahoma. There is no guiding force behind my decision, I choose this destination simply because it's the first one available. I don't know much about the place other than it's supposedly the birthplace of route 66.

Ten hours later, I'm in a city larger and more beautiful than expected, and the bustle of life makes me feel more alone. Regrettably, I think of how much Dawn would have liked it here. I think of Xander, who'd definitely appreciate the architecture of this place.

I close my eyes, a reaction more than a habit, and use my growing ability in shutting emotion off to force the thoughts away. I focus instead on finding an affordable place to stay at.

After about an hour, I find a small quaint hotel on a quiet street, stuck in between a dry cleaners shop and a small convenience store. The price works out pretty well, but I realize that I'm going to have to find a job sometime soon.

My room is nicer than the one I had in Las Cruces, a bit smaller but with a lovely large window overlooking the street. The furniture is antique and my bed squeaks a bit when I sit on it, but it all makes me feel like I've stepped back through time into a 1930's musical. I lie down with the window open and the sun streaking my face through the lace curtains, and fall asleep.

It's dark outside when I wake up again, and for the first time in a really long time, my skin itches with desire for a good slay. The night has cooled some, so I throw on a light jacket and stick a stake up my sleeve and head out the door.

I kill my first vampire in over two months, and the sense of wholeness I get from doing it doesn't go unnoticed. I continue patrolling in the hope that I'll encounter more enemies and feel the emotion once again. A couple of hours go by until I do, and the second kill is less fulfilling than I had expected it to be. When my stomach rumbles for a hot meal, I decide my slayer duties are finished for the night.

I satisfy my hunger with a fast food burger, opting to skip the strange looks I sometimes get when I go to restaurants alone. After everything that has happened to me, pity boils my blood no matter who dishes it out.

Walking back to my hotel, still feeling unsettled, I catch glimpse of a small bar. Not shabby exactly, but for some reason it reminds me of Willy's bar, with its dim lighting and few customers. I can't resist and so I go inside.

I sit at the bar and order a beer. I'd been tempted to order a shot of Jack upon seeing the bottle on the wall behind the bar, but decide against it. I know the moment the amber liquid touched my mouth I'd be forced to think of Spike. Spike who died twice for my mission. For me.

"Looking for some company?" I hear a masculine voice beside me say.

I sigh slightly, why do men always think that a girl sitting by herself is an open invitation to be hit on? I turn to look at him ready to turn him down, when I see a tall man with dark hair and equally dark skin staring back at me. I smile inwardly, and how these types of men always seem to find me now. As if they know of my weakness towards them.

I motion to my drink and say, "I found some, thanks."

He chuckles at my comment and I add, "But I guess you're welcome to join."

"I'm Shane." He says, taking a seat next to me.

"Anne." I reply simply.

By last call, I'm wobbly on my feet, my cheeks are tinted red, and my body is warm with alcohol and desire. Shane places his hand on my lower back as he leads me outside, walking as close to me as he can. I don't mind because I want him as much as he wants me. I have no doubt about it.

"Do you want to take me home?" I ask coyly the minute we step out.

His lips curl upward, and I know he knows what I'm really asking. There is no hesitation or timidity as I proposition him. I haven't been shy about sex since Spike; after everything I did with him, I never will be again.

His grin gets wider, "I'm only 2 blocks away."

He replies, and with the hand on my back pulls me to him. He kisses me then, forcing his tongue into my mouth, his one hand traveling south down the curve of my back, his other traveling north under my shirt. I push him away before he makes contact with my bra, because although I'm quite open about all this, I would rather not get felt up at 3am in the middle of the street. His shock diminishes when he catches glimpse of my face and the smile on it.

"You're only 2 blocks away, I think you can contain yourself till then," I say.

"It'll be worth the wait, I promise."

He kisses me again, more gentle this time, "What are we waiting for then?"

Ten minutes later, and Shane is fumbling with his keys and I can sense his urgency. It's the level of want in him that leads me to have these one-night conquests. I enjoy feeling desired and wanted so completely, if only for a few hours.

I place myself between him and the door, running my hands up his chest and when I look up at him, I see fire in his eyes seconds before his lips descend onto my own. The door is open all of a sudden and I find myself pinned between his warm body and the wall behind me.

Hours later, physically sated and emotionally empty, lying in Shane's arms, I think of Angel, and wonder what he's doing in this moment.

I wake the next day, my head pounding loudly in my ears, in a room I don't immediately recognize next to a man I hardly know. He's sleeping next to me, and as quietly as I can, I get out of his bed. Even though he seems like an ok guy I don't want him to find me here.

My first one-night stand long ago had made me feel cheap, but now I just want to avoid the possibility of him trying to initiate more than I'm willing to give, or the inevitable awkward goodbye. I steal a last look at my temporary lover, then leave.

A/N: So this was originally a longer chapter and I know I said no more shorties, but I need to end it here. Sorry bout that. Next chapter up soon!

Thanks for reading.