They were running through the cornfield. Her arms were outstretched and she could feel his breath tickling the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

"You can't catch me!" she screamed as she ran, her fingers brushing the high green stalks.

The leaves rustled and whispered lovers' vows. The last day of school was over. No more sitting in class restlessly watching the clock creep out the minutes until this. Summer, freedom, the warm June breeze lifting her hair and rushing through her. Oh, they were flying. And then his warm hands grabbed her around the waist and twirled her, making her skirt billow.

"Looks like I caught you" he murmured and she shivered at the deep tone.

It seemed overnight his voice had become dark and smoky. Like her daddy's had been before he went away. Or like his father's voice, low and silky that time they had held a glass up to the wall of his bedroom so they could listen in on his parents. She pinched his ear hard and he dropped her. Her stockings made her legs itch and she peeled them off. He smirked.

"That's ladylike. What would your mother say?"

She held up her fist. "Don't you dare tell her."

She could almost hear her mother's long-suffering sigh. 'Oh Buffy, when are you going to grow up and behave like a woman?' Never. Not if it meant wearing high heels and letting boys paw her like that tramp Dru had let him... She looked away from him quickly, feeling slightly sick. He didn't know she had seen them behind the school. His hand had been up Dru's skirt, doing god knows what. She'd run off before she could find out. Those were things she didn't want anything to do with.

The sun on her legs felt so good and she watched him retrieve their schoolbooks from where they'd flung them. He plucked a crushed packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit it, inhaling carefully. She noticed how big his hands were now, even though he was still only a few inches taller than her. Still fairly short for fifteen. She knew he prayed every night, like his parents had taught him to do, for a growth spurt so he could try out for the basketball team next year.

"You're never going to make the team if you keep doing that. You'll be puffing down the court like an old geezer. And does your father know you stole those from him? I bet he'd belt you good if he did."

He blew a stream of smoke in her face and laughed as she coughed and sputtered.

"You tell and I'm not letting you play baseball with us tomorrow."

She choked in outrage, "you know I'm good! I'm better than you and Xander and Angel put together. Who made you king of the diamonds anyways? They don't mind me playing!"

He rolled his eyes, "they hate you. They only let you play because you're like my stupid tag-along baby sister."

She felt angry tears prickling her eyes and balled her fists. It'd feel so good to pop him one right in his big fat head. But if she did, she knew it would mean no baseball tomorrow and being stuck at home doing housework with her mother. For the thousandth time, she cursed God she hadn't been born a boy. He never had to sew or wash dishes or learn to knit. She held up her hands in defeat.

"Fine, fine. It's still a nasty habit though." She bent down and scratched the bug bite on her knee so he wouldn't hear her next words.

"I bet that tramp wouldn't want to kiss you anymore if you had stinky smoker's lips."

She looked up and saw his brows knit in fury.

"You're just jealous that no one wants to get within ten miles of your lips."

That was it. She launched herself at him, kicking him in the shins and tearing at his stupid hair. God, she hated his hair. They'd both been towheaded when they were younger, but while her hair grew mousier and darker every year, his stayed that same white blonde. He'd been outside cutting the grass with his father last weekend and now his hair was almost silver.

He tripped her and she clawed him down to the ground. They rolled punching and kicking in the dirt, getting lashed from all sides by the sheaves of corn. Finally, they flopped on their backs, side-by-side, exhausted. Her mother was going to kill her for getting her dress dirty.

"I hate you, William" she panted.

He took out another cigarette. It was mangled. "I hate you more. You crushed my smokes, you whiny baby."

She didn't have enough energy left to cuff him upside the head, so she settled for sticking out her tongue. Suddenly a flock of birds flew into the air, scared off by the distant sound of thunder. They scrabbled to their feet and grabbed their books. The sun was setting and her mother would blow a gasket if she was late for dinner.

He turned to her, "last one back is a dumb, ugly girl" and took off, his shirttails flapping, the wind blowing messy strands of hair into his eyes. She hollered curses and chased after him, the leaves of corn slapping against her arms and legs. As they ran out of the field, lightning split the sky and she felt the first drops of rain on her lips.

*****************************

She jolted out of sleep in a cold sweat. She hadn't had one of those dreams in years. Looked around at the other passengers sprawled out in their seats napping. She could hear the click of the train's wheels churning faster and faster. Carrying her closer and closer. She had received the call yesterday.

'May I speak to Ms. Buffy Summers?'

'This is she.'

'Buffy, it's Mr. Giles. Do you remember me? I was a friend of the family. I...I don't know how to tell you this. Your mother has...passed on. She had not been feeling well recently. She asked me in my capacity as a lawyer to draft up her will. She left you everything, including the house.'

The phone had felt cold and heavy in her hand. 'Thank you for letting me know. I'll...be there as soon as I can.'

It seemed the train kept on moving faster and faster. Taking her closer and closer. To home. Where he was. Still waiting, like a tiger between the trees.

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