Buffy & Dexter
Disclaimer- not my character, not my universes. I promise to put everyone back where I found them when I'm done with them.
I first met Buffy Summers a couple years back when we were both working our way through Tropical Park looking for different special someones. During the process, she mistook me for a vampire hunter, and since it seemed like a good idea at the time, I went with the flow and let her keep thinking that. Now, two or three times a year she comes to Miami and invites me along for a hunt. And every time, I feel obliged to help her out. It's not really my thing, but I figure that she's trying to extend professional courtesy, and I'd be rude if I turned her down. Even if it's not really my kind of scenario.
"Hey, nice move there, coroner dude!" Buffy's associate Xander yelled shortly after I drove a stake through the heart of the vampire.
"Thanks. Just trying my best to help out the slayer."
The dust, the remains of the vampire, settled in a thick layer on top of my shirt. For all the mythology surrounding vampires and blood, you'd think that at least there would be a little of it involved in the process when a vampire meets his or her demise. But the lack of blood really is most unsatisfying, and half the time I find myself having to go over my clothes with a dustbuster afterwards because if I don't it clogs up the washer drain.
"Buffy, do you want some help there?"
"No, I'm good. You two handle the two coming up the trail. I've got the other four of them."
Xander and I quickly dispatched the two, but in the same amount of time Buffy had six more kills.
And then there's the matter that I'm more than a little bit jealous of Buffy. I spent my entire childhood with Harry learning how to be the best predator could be. I trained my body and mind in logistics, tactics, martial arts, and the sciences that would enable me to excel at my craft. And yet even if I spent my whole life working on improving my skills further, I would never get close to what Buffy was born with. I'll admit that part of the reason why I go vampire hunting with her is that it is absolutely beautiful to watch her in action. Her level of artistry more than equals Mary Cassatt.
"That's the last one. Are you up for ice cream?"
"It's actually too warm for some sort of hot fudge covered wonderfulness, but maybe something a little bit lighter. Don't suppose the native son here could find us some good gelato. Provided you want to come along."
"Considering that I can only think of two or three places that would be open this late at night, and they're off the beaten path, I better go along with you so you don't get lost." Act casual now, act casual.
Okay maybe at the end of the day the real reason why I come running every time Buffy Summers calls isn't politeness or the chance to watch a true master work her craft. It's that in her own way, Buffy Summers is a serial killer too, and as long as I keep the details rather vague, it's nice to be actually able to talk shop with someone else about what I do. No judging of morality allowed; instead we discuss strategies and ways to do what we do better.
Sometimes I think it's what having a friend must feel like to most people.