Hurriedly stuffing the last of her clothing and a few choice weapons into the bag, she half climbed out of the window that she had escaped from so many nights to take on her duty to slay. Before taking off, she took one final look around the room that she had occupied for the past couple of years. It was a mess. In her hurry clothes had been randomly scattered over the furniture. Under a short skirt, thrown over her bedside table when it was rejected as being useless in the life she planned to escape to, was a small wooden box. She hesitated; listening for any sounds in the house that indicated that her mother was moving around; that she might be caught. She heard the back door swing shut. Knowing there wasn’t much time; she swiftly moved back into the room and opened the box. Silver and gold flashed in the bright light streaming through the open curtains before the item was stuffed into her jacket pocket. She climbed once more out of the window and jumped off the roof. Without a glance back, she took off at a run down the street; her hand in her pocket, still fiercely clasped around its contents.

She hadn’t even noticed where she was running to until the buildings of her former school came into view. She winced in regret as she realised her former safe place was off bounds to her due to her expulsion. There would be no more late night research sessions in the library. She slowed to a quick jog, then a brisk walk, crossing the street so that her peers wouldn’t notice her. The normal hustle and bustle of school life carried on as if nothing had happened, students chattily greeting friends and discussing assignments. They wouldn’t learn about demons or vampires unless they became their victims, or until it was too late and the world was sucked into hell and she had failed. They would never learn of the sacrifices she had been forced to make to save the world. Her gaze followed along the street until she saw a group of people standing by the steps move to stand around a wheelchair. She felt a pang as she remembered the small group that weren’t ignorant to the world around them; her friends. She edged closer, hiding in the shade of the trees.

They were waiting for her. To go up to them full of smiles in the summer sun and complaints at the upcoming exams. To joke and laugh and regale them with the tale of how she had, once again, saved the world. They glanced around as they talked, hoping to catch a glimpse of golden hair bouncing towards them. Her first instinct was to go to them. To let them know the world was safe. But then she took a closer look at the group. Her two closest friends and companions were badly injured; Willow in a wheelchair, Xander with his cast. Giles had cuts and bruises on his face, and was moving in an awkward way that showed there were more unseen under his tweed suit. He raised his hand to his glasses and she saw that his fingers were broken. She only caused him… all of them, pain and disappointment. She closed her eyes and once again saw the vision of her mother throwing her out of their home. They were all better off without her. There was nothing left here for her. She took one final long look at the group that had helped her through so much over the past two years. They stood in a loose circle silently looking about them. Finally relenting, they disappointedly turned and slowly made their way into the school. After watching them disappear into the shadowy doorway, Buffy turned and made her way slowly down the street. She no longer had the energy to run. She didn’t have anywhere to run to.

Half an hour later she was sitting on the seat of a bus headed towards LA. She stared aimlessly out of the window hoping for anything to take her mind off thoughts of what she was leaving behind. Her eyes alighted on a sign on the roadside “Now Leaving Sunnydale, come back soon!”. That was it then. She had abandoned her friends and watcher to the Hellmouth. She wouldn’t… couldn’t come back. She turned her head away from the window and shut her eyes, listening to the quiet chatter going on around her and the clatter of the engine. After weeks of all night patrols in search of her soulless lover and stress at the thought of destroying a demon that looked out of eyes that had once been so full of love; the relief at it all being over brought about a feeling of calm and she slowly began to doze, the gentle vibration of the bus’s movement helping her drift off.

Angel’s face appeared out of the darkness, his mouth open in horror as his eyes glowed and is soul was restored. When the light faded, his gaze fell upon her filled with love that overcame the confusion as to where they were and why there was a blade, lowered but ready, in Buffy’s hand. She found herself once more falling into the dreamy depths of his dark eyes. They swallowed her up and she was floating in the beautiful void that contained only their love, pure and untainted. Then his strained voice reached her through the blissful haze.

“Buffy”

Buffy woke up with a start, grateful that her mind had forced her to awake when her subconscious was about to relive the most painful part of that memory. Forcing her eyes to stay open she looked out the window. They were still rumbling along the road just out of Sunnydale, she had only slept for a moment. As they travelled on; the landscape flew by, the earth baked dry and dusty in the summer heat.

When the bus jolted to a halt at a vandalized bus-stop. Buffy grabbed her bag and followed the trickle of people getting off the bus. Most were waiting to get off in a more reputable area, where they could ignore the dangers of staying in a major city just as easily as their eyes slid over all indications of Sunnydales deadly underworld. The bus driver called out a worried warning as she walked past him to the steps off the bus, encouraging her to get off at a later stop where it was less dangerous for young girls to wander alone. She threw what she hoped was a reassuring smile at the kindly man, but continued her decent off the bus. She didn’t want to enter the area she had lived in before being called as a slayer. Running into any old friends would bring back too many painful memories.

She wandered aimlessly through the streets, her bag bouncing against her leg as she meandered along, her shoulders hunched over to protect her from a cold emptiness in her soul that couldn’t be warmed by the sun beating down on the city. She was startled out of her reflection when a figure pushed against her. A man pushed passed her closer than was necessary, even in the crowded streets and she felt a hand swiftly thrust into her pocket. She turned in horror as she realised what had been taken and searched the street for the thief. Her keen eyesight spotted a man ducking into an alleyway, hiding in the shadows and opening a clenched fist to examine the trinket he had acquired.

In a flash of anger she was upon him. She gripped his wrist and he felt his bones creak as they complained about the pressure being applied to them. He looked up at his attacker, pain and anger clearly written on his features. Before him he saw the slight girl that had seemed like such an easy target, her eyes lost and painfully unaware of her surroundings as she walked along. She had transformed, all innocence was lost as she snarled at him, her eyes full of anger. There was no fear in her gaze in spite of his height and build making her seem even more childlike in comparison. She was well aware of her superior strength, which the force she was inflicting without any sign of effort on his arm made obvious. He sank to his knees at the pain that streaked through is nervous system as his bones finally broke with a snap that seemed to echo in his ears.

Buffy looked coldly into his eyes and looked at his hand. It had clenched into a tight fist around his prize in his body’s attempts to cope with the pain. She opened his hand and took back the one thing that she could never bare to loose. Letting go of his wrist, she slipped the silver chain over her head, tucking the heavy gold pendant under her top to hide it from any others who might attempt to take it, comforted as she felt it safe against her skin. As she adjusted its position she felt another necklace slide against her skin. Pulling it out, she lightly caressed the silver cross in a way that spoke more of love than any religious leanings, and then reached back to undo the clasp. Buffy couldn’t bear to have a constant reminder of her lost love. She was about to shove it into her pocket, switching it’s place with the chain now hanging around her neck, when her attention was bought to the man whimpering at her feet as he cradled his arm. She frowned, and took out her purse, placing the necklace safely among the loose change. She looked up guiltily at the thief’s pain ridden face and took out some small change. He flinched away from her as she held out her hand to him, then grabbed the change.

“Call yourself an ambulance.” She started out of the alley into the sunlight, then paused and glanced back “Oh, and be careful who’s pocket you pick next time” she smirked evilly at the man; his wistful looks at the zipped pocket of the bag in which she had stored her purse and his lack of remorse alleviating any guilt she felt over the pain she had caused him.

She stepped out onto the street squinting up at the midday sun, momentarily blinded by the sudden change. When her vision cleared she took in her surroundings. Each side was lined with rundown shops, paint peeling on most signs, the only windows that looked clean were those of shops in a chain that were dotted along the street. The people walking past sent her calculating looks, assessing the difficulty of taking her bag. She slipped it off her shoulder and gripped the handle. It would be hard, if not impossible for anyone to wrench it out of a slayers grasp.

Across the street she noticed a sign in a grocery store window “Flat to Rent, enquire within”. It wasn’t the nicest area, but there was nothing that a slayer couldn’t handle, besides, it would be cheap, and she needed to stretch out the time she could spend living off her savings. She crossed the street and after minimal questions was taken up to the flat by the manager. As he showed her around the compact space, she half listened to his mocking story of the tenant who’d just moved out, yet another kid in search of stardom. The girl had left; she’d realised that she wasn’t going to be spotted working 12hr shifts at a cheap cafe. The man looked Buffy up and down, leering despite her unflattering clothes, obviously taking her for yet another small-town hopeful.

The flat was shabby to say the least; paint peeled off the walls in places where the damp had got too much. When tested, the shower groaned for a while then finally spurted out water at the ceilings and walls. The door looked like it had been kicked in at least once; the cracks in the frame were obvious to Buffy, despite the paint over them. Two years of slaying in Sunnydale had made her well aware of the effects of breaking a lock. It would take a major clean to before it was habitable, but the price mentioned was reasonable enough, and would leave her enough to live on while she searched for work.

She got out her purse as the manager talked over the rent and charges. When he saw its contents, she saw his eyes come alight at the wad of cash. She had taken out all of her savings before leaving Sunnydale so her mother wouldn’t be able to track her through bank statements. He smoothly changed the required upfront rent from one to two months and suddenly mentioned a cleaning deposit. Buffy looked cynically around the room at that, but knew that there was no point arguing now that he knew how much money she had on her. She should have separated out the cash when she got it, hiding most in pockets of her bag, but at that point she’d been in no state to think straight and had just put it all in her purse. As soon as she agreed to his price, he scurried off to get the paperwork, not wanting to loose a potential tenant who would give him that much rent in advance.

Buffy looked after him, with a bemused expression. He obviously expected her to give up and go home before the rent was used up and leave him with more cash in hand. She wandered through the dingy rooms, noting the things she would have to search for to make it liveable. There was no going back, She had to make this her home.