TITLE: Fanging It
AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (set in the 22'verse)
CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers;
A/N: Just a Buffy POV set before the previous OC slayer/watcher fics posted yesterday. One thought though; always been uncomfortable, and very slightly annoyed and angry that so much of fandom is obsessed with who gets to 'bang' Buffy last. Why can't someone be comfortable with being on their own for a while; polyamorous, or just simply taking lovers when she wants; or needs. Or just being single for a while? Anyway, to a mature; thoughtful and pretty content with her lot General Summers; off on a busman's holiday.
She stole a fucking steam train!
Buffy was chuckling at the audacity of this slipperiest of new Slayers as she tramped away from the Sapling; more a tree after all these years. She'd been telling her Mom all about her for the past hour.
This, the first and oldest of the Slayer Central Academies; run now by the, mostly, retired Vi and Rona, was looking in good shape; though the block where her old office had been could use some repairs she noticed as she made her way; digging the keys Faith had given her out of her old leather jacket, a gift of Giles' (bit big, but she was wearing plenty of warm padding underneath it, so that was of no never mind), up the incline to the hut/shelter/garage Faith had built before they'd started migrating to where the most dangerous trouble spots were.
Opening the doors, she entered, grateful it was daylight since the light wasn't working. She pulled the tarp from over the Indian motorbike Faith had remodelled all those years ago, and hadn't ridden since she'd turned thirty.
Buffy checked it over; filled up with gas, and wheeled it out into the open. There was a mist coming in from the river; warnings of snow she recalled, though she planned to route herself well to the south of those worries.
Fortunately, though it would be cold most of the way, at least; where this Slayer was headed was reported dry.
She could hear Giles; her Mom, and Dawnie all warning in her head when she simply stowed her helmet.
“Easy rider, B; easy rider. Let the wind take your hair, and fly.”
She felt a melancholic twinge as that memory of Faith went through her mind. First solo ride on a bike; Triumph, as she recalled, after months of lessons from Faith and taken while she was naked, and still sweaty from sex with her ex-lover.
She'd nothing but ex-lovers now, but felt no loneliness out of it. All were friends; scattered all over the world, and most would drop things with demur to come if she asked; even share her bed, but she found she didn't need them for that comfort anymore.
She wondered if maybe she could take those blasted cookies from the oven.
Shaking her hair free from its scrunchy, she ululated fit to wake the sleeping Slayers not two hundred meters away.
Starting up her bike, she roared off towards the gates; turned left and head off towards the freeway downstate.
Nobody could hear her, but she was laughing out loud all the way; every once in a while channelling Furiosa from that Mad Max movie Faith was obsessed with.
Goddess watch over us all in these dark times,