a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

Buffy hadn't left the house in days. Despite all the ruckus it made, her little space heater was enough to keep her and the cat warm in her small efficiency studio apartment, and she had splurged on enough wine and groceries to last her a couple of weeks. Work was slow lately, probably because of Buffy's weird run in with that vampire-eating vampire a few weeks prior, but surprisingly, Buffy didn't mind all that much. It was nice to have a break, to curl up on the couch with a blanket and a book and with no plans for the day or night. At least, that's how it felt at first.

By day five she was starting to feel pretty anxious. And not the good kind of anxious that high functioning people can turn into productive energy. You know, the people who use the time to deep clean the house, or start a new project, or get back into a rigorous work out routine. The longer she went without a new assignment from the Council, the more jittery and flighty Buffy became. Her mind ran rampant with all the things she'd done wrong on the job. Nothing reached the level of what happened previously with Jason, but Buffy was incapable of letting her mind rest, nor come to the conclusion that maybe business was just slow.

By day six, she was crawling out of her skin. So she changed into real clothes for the first time in several days, and begrudgingly left the house. If the assignments weren't going to come to her, maybe she could find them on her own. It seemed... feasible... at least in this town.

The sidewalks were wet and puddles gathered in the trenches where concrete ended and the moist, soggy earth began. Spring was well on its way, but there was still a crispness in the air as the snow from the last of winter was finally beginning to melt. Buffy pulled her leather coat tighter across her chest, and buried her chin within it as she walked, watching the sun as it moved at a seemingly excruciating pace to drop beyond the horizon. Nothing interesting happened in this city during daylight. Hence her willingness only to embark from her cozy home at sunset.

Hours passed and Buffy wandered the streets, block by block. She found no monsters in the alleyways or shrieks of normal humans needing help. Her wandering ways led her to a liquor store, where she indulged herself quietly on a small bottle of cheap whiskey wrapped in a brown paper bag as she rode the subway from one side of town to the next. By the time she emerged from the subway station in downtown, she was a little tipsy and it didn't feel quite so chilly anymore.

The dark hunter continued to stroll down the sidewalks, this time having to dodge rough-edged shoulders and hustling passerbys. She sipped at what was left of her bottle until it was gone. With every new block, Buffy became more agitated, bored by the fact that she couldn't find something better to do and annoyed by the amount of seemingly faceless people who hurried by her on the streets.

So she dipped into a bar.

It was crowded, and for a second she thought about leaving again. But a stool opened up at the bar and she snagged it. She ordered another whiskey. Neat. Time went by and the empty, sweating glasses began to stack up. She found herself laughing with a bunch of strange men at the bar and couldn't remember why. More time went by. She removed a man's grimy paw from her thigh time and time again. Things grew more hazy. She couldn't find her phone. She thought she felt more hands on her body but she was losing control of her limbs. There were so many people here, too many faces to keep track of. She could feel the heat of whiskey-laced exhales on the back of her neck. She could hear the chatter of people crowding in behind her. All the while, she was struggling to maintain an upright position. And to keep her eyes open.

GIA BUFFY JONES