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

The whiskey went down as smooth as could be expected for an over-priced, bottom of the barrel, well shot. Buffy reveled in the burn that came in the aftermath, the familiar welling of warm, salty tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. She exhaled deeply and dramatically, and hunched deeper into her bar stool. She could feel her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jeans, but she ignored it as best she could. It was most likely Leslie, texting her from her gate on the other side of the terminal. Buffy exhaled deeply again, took a long swig from her quickly-warming beer and tried to focus on something else.

Routine was important. It's what the therapist told her over and over again. If she wanted to get out of this slump and stay out of it, that's what she needed to focus on. And for the span of several weeks, the thin dark hunter did a fairly good job at sticking to it. Yoga in the morning, running errands, yoga in the afternoon, hunting at night, but only select nights. Add some minimal eat and sleep, and repeat. It was tough in the beginning, but over time it began to work. Eventually the mundane felt welcoming. It made her feel safe.

Then Leslie came, and it was like she spent a week on ecstasy. She was the happiest she'd been in a long time. Because of her sister's visit, she had an excuse to diverge from the usual routine of the day. She laughed and she cried, but most of all, she felt loved and like she had love to give. Buffy worried desperately now that she would sink right back into that depression. She fretted that it was only a matter of time - maybe even just hours - before she fell back into old, bad habits, ones that could lead her back to that bar on the East side where Sebastian had found her. Or worse, back to a place where a vampire like Jason could reel her in. Her hands began to shake on the bar top. So she quickly tucked them into her lap, pressing her clammy palms together in between her thighs.

Outside of the bar, hoards of people continued to stream by. Their mindless chatter, the click or clack of their shoes, the dull drone of the plastic wheels of their suitcases as they drifted by, actually calmed Buffy in a strange way. She liked feeling so physically close to so many people, mortal and supernatural, but not being recognizable either, in any sense of the word. The bartender had ignored her after delivering the shot and the beer. But the second a single blond-haired man walked into the bar, the entire atmosphere seemingly shifted. People scuffled out of his way. The apathetic bartender even turned suddenly attentive.

Buffy narrowed her eyes on his back as he passed by apprehensively. She could feel his age, and his power. She sensed right away he was a hunter. Feeling inconsequential in his presence, the thin dark hunter instinctively began to drain what was left of her lukewarm beer. He took a seat next to her. And then he said her name.

She held the tension of the moment in her shoulders, her blades stiff as could be as they crept higher up her neck toward her ears. She craned her head to one side to meet his gaze, but didn't offer a friendly smile. The second he said his name, her stomach lurched. It had been some time since she'd interacted with anyone from the Council in person. Most of her communication was done remotely, via text and email, which she much preferred. But on the off occasion her presence was requested, Buffy was smart enough to just go and get it over with. She was sure she'd met Azrael there before, but his reputation in Sacrosanct certainly preceded him.

"Yeah, hi." She managed to squeak out, now pivoting on her stool to face him. While he had the bartender's attention, Buffy chose to take advantage. "Another beer please," She said quickly. "And what the hell, another shot." He seemed slightly distracted by his phone, which gave Buffy a short glimmer of hope that their interaction would be short. But then he pocketed the device and stared at her full on.

"I'm not working." She stated clearly, so there was no confusion. "Thanksgiving was three days ago. I just dropped off family who spent some time here."

The bartender returned with her beverages, but Buffy didn't meet his glance. Instead she clutched at the shot glass with one hand, but hesitated to bring it to her lips. "Going somewhere?"

GIA BUFFY JONES