Buffy, Cordelia, Anyone Else?Date:
Evening of April 23Rating:
Buffy runs into Cordelia. They do the catching up thing and all that good stuff.
She wondered if she would have to start saying 'y'all'. Of course, she had no idea how long she was staying here. Could be another day, week, or even year. So, the fitting in? Not exactly necessary, but her bright blond hair and California-esque style tended to catch the eye. She wasn't used to it anymore. After her hometown collapsed in on itself, she was staying pretty low-key in the world as more and more Slayers started popping up around the globe. Being the 'original' Slayer, she was kinda sorta in charge of them all. Willow had even given her a name-plate which read 'Boss of Us'; apparently Xander had made it for the witch a few years earlier.
And the whole being in charge thing? She was so
over it. With a zillion girls to control, find, and train (not to mention the rogue slayers), she was a bit in over her head. She had spent the past year traveling, training, and more traveling and frankly, she was exhausted. And here she was, traveling to Louisiana. And surprisingly, it was her own suggestion. She had read about the rise in vampire numbers in the south and well, she had to check it out. It was a lot harder to hunt them nowadays since their rights were practically protected by law, but she was still the Slayer.
She'd read reports of more of them drinking this synthetic blood, but she wasn't convinced. She had known too many vampires--some a little too
well--and knew how much they just loved the taste of real blood. How long before the nice vamps got sick of drinking fake stuff and opted for the real thing? She guessed it was going to be sooner than later, especially reading about a few vampire 'accidents' in the paper. Accidents? Puh-lease. She knew better and the world should too.
So, here she was. Wandering around an empty cemetery with a stake up her sleeve. Carrying around the scythe was a little too obvious lately and most people didn't know who she was or what
she was. Low profile, that was the key here. And if she could keep it up, she might be able to stay here for a while. Maybe find a job. A non-vampire or non-supernatural boyfriend, even. Hell, she needed a vacation, anyway. How far was it to Florida from here?
Buffy let out a sigh, moving out of the cemetery and onto the lamp-lit sidewalks. She felt her stomach give a slight growl. Why did slaying--or lack thereof, really--always make her so hungry?