I’d always assumed I was alone. Faith lies comatose in the hospital, leaving me the lone slayer, as it should be.
But suddenly I’m not so sure anymore. He came out of nowhere, like a lighting bolt dressed in red and blue. He picked up those two vamps like he had better things to do with his time, throwing them clear across the cemetery. He actually believed that I was in mortal danger, and I didn’t argue. He shocked me into a stupor with the speed and the strength. He knocked any witty remark off my lips with his baby blues.
The fact that I wasn’t running off in the other direction took him by surprise; the look of fight or flight flashing like a street sign across his face.
“Nice throw,” I hear myself saying. Nice throw? That’s the best I can come up with? Tall dark and handsome looks down at me, a disarming smile lighting up his features and either I’m smiling back or I’m grimacing; it’s hard to tell when my brain has gone to mush.
“Thanks,” he replies with a tinge of red creeping up his cheeks. “I was passing by and they really came out of nowhere. Are you alright?”
I would have laughed if he didn’t look so damn earnest. I nod stupidly at his question and can only stare at him. Where did this guy come from?
“I’m Clark,” he says with an outstretched hand.
He must think I’m some sort of idiot at this point because I can’t seem to get my thoughts together and very narrowly convince myself not to swoon. Taking a step forward, I muster a reply.
“Buffy,” I breathe out.
“Nice to meet you, Buffy. About those guys,” he begins guiltily. I can smell a lie coming a mile away and wonder if he has the balls to try it on me. “They were…I mean I was…”
“Adrenaline, right?” I interrupt. The relief that crosses his features would be comical if I wasn’t suddenly so damn curious. I give him a pass however, I know what if feels like to have to keep my abilities secret. He’s definitely not in Kansas anymore, I think to myself. He couldn’t possibly be from Sunnydale, I would have known about someone not named Buffy scaring off the vamps.
“What did you say?” he asks. His question catches me off-guard and I realize I was thinking out loud again.
“It’s a reference,” I begin. When he looks confused, I try to elaborate. “You look lost and out of place, like Dorothy, so you’re not in Kansas anymore…” I trail off. Horrifying. I’m suddenly acting like a smitten teenager and making a total fool of myself.
He smiles at me; a heartwarming, genuine, stop your heart smile and I lose a few more brain cells.
“You’re right; I’m not in Kansas anymore. I’m actually from Smallville, Kansas and I was just passing through Sunnydale, looking for a friend of mine.”
“You’re not gonna find too many here,” I say and his smile falters. “I mean, it’s not like this whole town is full of meanies like those guys, but good people are hard to find.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “You don’t seem too bad.”
And there it is; that smile again. At this rate I might as well be comatose too, but I sober enough to smile back and take a chance that this guy might not be like all the other guys I’ve met at this cemetery.
“See, that’s your first mistake right there, trusting me without so much as knowing my last name. For all you know, I could be with those meanies you bullied to the ground,” I tease.
“I think I’ll take my chances,” he teases back.
It’s an instant pull, this easy banter we suddenly have going. Who cares if he’s hiding some out of this world reason behind his strength; I have my secrets too. So I walk closer to him, and take a chance, he’s just passing through anyway.