Chapter 3: You Think You Know
Author’s Note: Hello all! Been quite a while, hasn’t it? You probably thought I’d abandoned this story by now, and I don’t blame you. I planned to update much earlier, but alas, sometimes life has to come before Buffy the Vampire Slayer, no matter how much we wish otherwise. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter and remember; reviews= :) Flames=:(.
The surroundings shouldn’t have provoked such unease from her. In the darkness of the clear night, stars twinkled brightly in the sky and the moon shone radiantly, illuminating the view of the vast amounts of gravestones and crypts littering the graveyard. No, this place shouldn’t have unnerved her at all. After all she’d seen and done thus far, the calm that seemed to emit from the very night itself should have done anything but unsettle her. Yet even at the distinct lack of tingles emanating from her skin signaling the presence of a member of the undead, she couldn’t quite stop herself from gripping her stake harder than necessary and eying the area around her so critically she began to squint. And even though she knew she’d have felt a demon by now, she couldn’t prevent the increasing feeling that something would happen, that she was…waiting.
Whipping her head around at being broken from her thoughts, Buffy cursed herself, momentarily shocked for not noticing who-or what- ever had made themselves present. The first thing she noticed as she tried to evaluate her potential enemy was that for all the night that seemed to be lit up in clear sight, the person/thing/whatever remained in darkness. Yet even as she faced the dark figure in front of her, she felt nothing indicating that evil was afoot. If anything, the only feeling she got from the second party was-
The voice was almost achingly like the word it had replied with, and with that realization, she grew thoroughly frustrated. Raising a brow, Buffy said, “You know, usually I’d prefer to have gone to dinner and a movie before I let someone that far inside my head.”
Practically feeling the smirk on the other’s face, her unidentified guest said, “I’m willing to bet I know you a lot better than you think, Slayer.”
It was with that phrase, said with a mocking certainty, that Buffy glared, narrowing her eyes, emitting such a fury that the weapon she clutched in her right hand nearly burst into splinters.
“Okay,” Buffy said through clenched teeth. “Apparently you and everyone else didn’t quite get the memo, but this whole ‘Slayer’ thing? I’m done with it. Finished. Over. Done. See you later alligator, after while crocodile. That’s how over this whole gig I am.”
“That’s funny, considering you were all ready to order my execution.”
“Who are you?” It was more a demand that a question.
“You’re asking the wrong question, sweetheart.”
Okay, now she was really getting irritated. “Oh, well how ‘bout this? What the hell do you want? Not that you‘re going to get it, just for conversation sake.”
“Silly girl. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what the world depends on.”
“You’re no demon. At least I‘d hope not, considering they‘d be really pissed at your little Slayer recruiting program.”
“You underestimate your power.”
“You know what?” Buffy said, bitterness lacing her words. “You and everyone else are so gung ho on saving the world, why don’t one of you take the damn position. I didn’t ask for this," she spat.
“No one ever does.”
“You think you know.” The words cut her off as if she’d been magically silenced, and something about the tone of voice in which the figure had spoken switched, commanding, as if a higher power was speaking through them, not in the sarcastic, mocking tone that seemed to be a theme throughout the encounter.
“You think you know. Who you are, what’s to come.”
Suddenly the figure moved towards Buffy, but she didn’t move, didn’t dare. For as the closer the figure got, the more familiar it became. And when finally she was directly in front of her, the mirror image of herself- from the blonde hair to her shining emerald eyes- the last words her mysterious clone spoke were perhaps the most foretelling she’d ever hear.
“You haven’t even begun.”
“Buffy? Buffy? Buffy!”
Startled green orbs snapped open at the loud interruption.
With slightly blurred vision, Buffy rubbed her eyes to then be faced with the concerned, slightly tired face of Joyce Summers, her brow furrowed in worry.
“Are you all right, baby?”
Stretching as she started to sit up, Buffy realized they were still in their vehicle, currently parked at a rest stop off the interstate. Shaking her head slightly, Buffy looked up at her mother again, a small, reassuring smile on her face. “Uh, yeah. Fine. Why do you ask?”
Concern slowly disappearing from her features, Joyce said “Well, you were frowning and muttering in your sleep. Thought I’d rescue you from troubling thoughts and stop to take a break. Use the bathroom, get some snacks. Your old mom can’t stay awake forever before stopping at a hotel.”
With a slight gleam in her eyes, “ Well, I could always-”
A pout formed on Buffy’s face. “That’s so not fair.” But Joyce just looked amused as she raised a brow.
“You honestly thought I’d let you start driving on the interstate when you can’t even back out of the driveway without almost hitting our mailbox?” Her daughter only huffed as she opened her door and scanned the area for the restroom she was starting to realize she needed.
“So,” her mom said after slamming the door shut and joining her daughter up the sidewalk, “what were you dreaming about that had you in such a fit.?”
Seeming to be in thought, Buffy finally just shrugged her shoulders. “Not sure really.”
And oddly enough, she wasn’t even lying.