Nothing Between Us (Part 1)

Dare H.

You're standing on your side
I'm standing on mine
It only needs one step
And you could be crossing the line
There's nothing between us
Or maybe too much
Whatever it is it's too fragile to touch
-"Baby Break It Down," The Rolling Stones

She was leaning over the pool table, lining up her next shot, when she felt
the tingle start at the base of her neck and crawl down her spine. Vampire.
*What else is new,* Buffy thought, rolling her eyes before shooting. There
was a satisfying series of clinks as the cue ball hit it's target, sending
it into the pocket.

She stood up, unconsciously tightening her grip on the cue stick. They were
remarkable and convenient weapons against vampires, as she knew from
experience. Thankful that her buddies had already headed home, she scanned
the smokey pool hall. It was fairly empty, near the three a.m. closing time-
the corners of her mouth rose in a slight smile as she thought of her
colleagues usual parting remarks. They were always full of good natured
jealousy when it came to her ability to stay up all night and still be
bright and chipper the next morning. They often wondered how she could do
it, but of course, she never gave a truthful answer. She doubted that they'd
even believe the truth. *Yeah, well, I've been used to it for a while now,
since I was a vampire Slayer and all.*

She extended her Slayer senses, searching for the vampire through more than
just sight. It had a strange feeling to it, one of familiarity...but it
wasn't Angel, of that she was certain. Not that she wanted it to be him.
She'd gotten over him long ago...as much as could be expected, of course.
There were still those nights she'd lie awake thinking about him, those
special moments that seemed a little less special because he wasn't there to
share them with her.

She would never be completely over him, and she knew it- memories of him
would always be tinted with the hazy glow of first love. But that didn't
mean that she couldn't move on; and she had. Eight years was a long time to
spend obsessing over the guy you could never have, the man who kissed you
through your window and fueled your teenage fantasy. Buffy sighed...eight
years was a long time, period.

Not that any of her relationships since then had been exceptionally
wonderful. The best one had shockingly been with Oz- a hook up she would
have never even imagined back in high school. But it hadn't been high school
anymore...it was the real world. The real world where Angel was out of reach
and Willow had long since left Oz broken hearted. She'd run into him by
chance- the Dingoes were still together and playing the L.A. club scene. It
had been nice to find a familiar face, even if they hadn't been the closest
of friends back in Sunnydale. One thing led to another, as things invariably
did, and they'd found a closeness that had eluded them in their younger
years.

She had loved him, and he had loved her, but neither with the same intensity
as for a certain vampire and a red-headed witch. When the Dingoes started to
hit it big, leaving the L.A. club circuit to propel their fame, they'd said
goodbye. That had been four years ago; occasionally he would call her, see
how her life was going, tell her amusing stories about being in a rock band.
When she'd walked by a newsstand and seen the Dingoes on the cover of
Rolling Stone, she'd almost had a heart attack. Leave it to Oz to make the
cover of the biggest music magazine and not tell her.

She'd skimmed through the article, skipping over what Devon had to say and
reading the few comments Oz had made. The most interesting one had been when
the interviewer asked why their newest album had been called "Wolf Slayer."
Oz had simply replied, "Why not?"

Pushing the memories aside, she took another look around. There was no sign
of the vampire she'd sensed; they were probably outside in the street. She
turned back to the remaining balls on the table. She'd sink the few that
were left and go home, forgetting about the vamp, even if she was curious to
find out why it felt so familiar. It wasn't her sacred duty anymore.

Two shots and two sunken balls later, she leaned over the table, trying to
line up the difficult 8-ball shot as best she could. She didn't sense the
person behind her until it was too late, when two arms slid around her
waist, pushing her gently but firmly back into the hard, male body that was
behind her..

Buffy tensed, but didn't freak out- she could handle anything, anyone.

At least, that's what she had thought. Until the arms tightened around her
waist in a parody of a lover's embrace. Until cool lips pressed against her
neck, brushing lightly against her skin as a familiar and accented voice
made her stomach flip, a sudden and strange feeling swell in her chest.

"Hello, cutie."

Next Part

Sunnydale