She woke up, bleary eyed in the late afternoon, having slept solidly for the first time in the weeks since she’d left Sunnydale. Forcing herself out of bed, she stripped off her clothes from the night before and looked disgustedly at her hands, still covered with the blood of the vampire from the night before. Looking closer at the pile of clothes, she saw they were ruined by the splashes of blood ingrained with vampire dust that clung to the fabric. Had she soaked them the previous night, they might have been salvageable, but after a night to set in, nothing was going to get those stains out of her clothes. She really couldn’t afford this right now.

She made her way into the shower and, ignoring the slightly murky water, gratefully stepped under the spray, vigorously washing off all the reminders of the previous night. After a thorough wash, she found a new outfit and binned the destroyed garments. She calmed slightly as the apartment seemed to shift back into the human world, no longer a part of its demon underbelly. Next time she saw Whistler, she promised herself, she’d rip out his vocal chords. Let him try to give cryptic messages then.

Deciding there was no point going job hunting so late in the day, but not wanting to stay in the box-like rooms of her flat, Buffy elected to go to the park. Making her way down the main street, she was distracted by occasional ‘pops’ and ‘cracks’ that seemed to come from side streets as she approached them, but when she looked down them there was never anyone suspicious. Well… more suspicious than the normal inhabitants of her neighbourhood anyway. It was either Whistler following her or her mind playing tricks, either way, she opted to ignore the sounds and enjoy her day.

As she entered the wide open space of the park, the sounds stopped; obviously her tracker was deterred by the risk of discovery. Buffy lay on the soft grass in the sunlight; enjoying the feeling of the warm sunbeams on her skin as she watched the city dwellers hurry past.

Hours later with the slim moon hanging over her head, the sole occupant of the park lay in a peaceful slumber. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the park, faint ‘pops’ could be heard, followed by the rustle of grass as shrouded figures moved in around the girl. They stopped with a start as she started writhing in her sleep, worried that she had heard their approach, then moved ever closer as they realised they were still undiscovered. A light drizzle started to fall.

“Are you sure?” one queried, glancing at one of his associates. “She’s definitely the one.” Another reassured his partner, then turned and muttered under his breath. A faint blue glow could be seen from behind, and then he turned back to his companions. “It’s ready.” He stated. Carefully lifting Buffy’s hand, he held it in his and motioned for the others. They also held out their hands, so that all five occupants of the park were clasping hands over Buffy’s unconscious form.

The one clasping Buffy’s hand, obviously the leader, looked at a watch on his other wrist and started a whispered count down. “Five… four… three…”

Buffy suddenly shot up “Angel” she whispered longingly into the night, still reliving the moment in which she had lost him forever. She noticed the dark figures surrounding her a second too late to pull away. She felt a jerk in her stomach and the group disappeared, leaving the dry and flattened grass where she had slept the only indication that there had been anyone there moments before. Within a minute, even this had gone as the drizzle grew to a heavy rain, soaking the dry grass.