8:30AM



"Miss? Miss are you alright?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Y-yes I'm fine."

Buffy Summers shook off the chills that had suddenly crept up her spine, leaving a flood of goosebumps in their wake. She tried not to let it affect her but she knew all too well what would soon follow, a shudder running through her at the thought. The older woman behind the cash register stared at her quizzically before handing over her coffee and muffin in a brown paper take-away bag.

"You think you can be happy with Frank. HA! That cheating bastard doesn't deserve you!"

"That'll be $10.50."

Buffy tried to ignore the voice to her left, knowing that if she turned her head that she would be able to see a person standing there. A person that no one else could see. She had tried all her life to ignore them, telling herself that they weren't real. Spirits, or ghosts you could call them. To her they looked just like normal everyday people but with one slight difference. They had a blur surrounding them, their image not quite complete. It was as if they were stuck in-between two planes of existence being pulled in two different directions with one foot on either side, not able to take a clear form.

"If I can't have you no one can. Baby we were so good together. You deserve so much more than him, Ruthie."

The spirit of the man moved through the solid counter that separated her from 'Ruthie' as if nothing was there and stood directly next to the older woman. The man was dressed in a simple brown suit and had a rather big gash in his forehead with a few shards of glass sticking out, face bloodied. Buffy tried her hardest to not make eye contact, her voice and hands shaking as she pulled out her purse.

It was always quite confronting to see a spirit in the form they were in when they had died.

"T-thanks."

She wasn't sure if it was the stutter in her voice that gave way to the fact that she could see him or that she was trying her hardest to look anywhere but directly at him. As soon as they linked eyes for the briefest of seconds Buffy knew she was doomed. His eyes widened with excitement and he all but rushed through the counter again to get to her.

"Can you see me? Oh my god you can! Go on tell her. Tell her that Frank is a cheating bastard!"

This was so not happening again. Buffy shook her head, eyes downcast as the spirit glided right in front of her doing her best to act as normal as possible. Well as normal as you could be with a ghost hovering three inches from your face. From this close up she could see that one of his eyes was red and blood-shot from the trauma he had sustained upon his death. It was not a pretty sight.

"Tell her! She needs to know. Go on! Tell her!"

The man tried to grab Buffy's shoulders but seemed to slip straight through her like an icy fog. An instant chill ran through her body, arms freezing up causing her to drop the coins of change Ruthie had given her. If anyone were to ask what it felt like to have a ghost pass through you she would have responded with her best decision. That of a chilly winters day icy breeze. The kind that had your face and limbs tingling without feeling for a few moments as you adjusted to the cold and then suddenly with a rush, your blood would warm again and you could move once more.

It wasn't the most pleasant feeling she ever experienced but then again here in Sunnydale no one had asked her what it felt like. Here in Sunnydale, she was normal.

Plain little Miss Buffy Summers. Who so did not talk to herself in public when ghosts decided to pay her a visit.

"Leave me alone!" She growled out, dropping to pick up the coins she had spilled. She shot 'Ruthie', who stood behind the counter with her lips in an 'O' an extremely apologetic look before grabbing her take-away bag and morning coffee and running out of the shop as fast as her feet would carry her.

Heart pounding a million miles a minute, she rushed through the streets of Sunnydale to the small shop she owned a few blocks away. Her hands shook as she pulled the keys from her purse, unlocking the shop door and turning the hanging sign to 'Open' before unintentionally slamming it shut behind her in her hastened wake.

"Just one day. I want just one day without ONE of you bothering me!" Pacing back and forth in front of the small counter space, hands still shaking she repeated her mantra. "Not real. They can't touch me. Not real. They can't touch me. Not real..." Buffy took a bite of her muffin, slipping to the floor, hand in her hair as she shook her head in denial. Luckily for her the ghost from the shop had chosen to stay behind and haunt Ruthie and not follow her.

A small blessing but she would take it none the less.

Buffy had been able to see ghosts for as long as she could remember. At first her parents had thought it cute, thinking she was just telling them about all of her imaginary friends. You know how kids can be. But when you are cursed to see ghosts show up in the same form as how they looked when they had died and you start talking about limbs missing and bloodied bullet wounds; your parents start to question your sanity.

Buffy had learned the hard way to keep things to herself.

Twelve months in a mental institution at the age of fifteen, spending three of those months in isolation after a few disagreements with the orderly's and doped up on as many pills as she could remember. She shuddered at the memory.

Buffy had never forgiven her parents for putting her in that place and as soon as she was able to she had moved out of home and across the state to a small town called Sunnydale. Here, she was able to rebuild herself. Now at the age of twenty-three she was the owner of a small art gallery that also sold old artifacts from all across the world. It was a small business but she had built up her clientele and now had regular customers that used her to import their rare artifacts. She had a handful of close friends who on the weekends frequented the only club in town and who all got together once a month for movie nights at her house.

Life for Buffy was good.

And the best part was that no one knew she could see ghosts.

Back in LA she was a freak of nature that everyone knew had spent a year in the nut house but here she was just plain old Buffy Summers. Over the last few weeks things had started to change. Seeing spirits had gone from being a once or twice a month thing to becoming a regular occurrence, seeing them a few times a week and in all different places and forms. Something wasn't right with the ghost world.

"Go away. Go away. Go away."

The chills that seemed to follow her like a clouded fog since the incident in the coffee shop clung to her limbs as she sat on the floor.

"Talking to yourself again, Buff? That's the third time this week!"

"Xander! Hey, I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm here to fix the bell remember?" Xander helped her off the floor. "You feeling ok? You're looking a bit pasty." He laid the back of his hand across her forehead to check her temperature.

"I'm fine. Just a strange morning is all."

"Alright, if you say so. Let's see what we can do about this bell. The Xandman is here to help."

Buffy smiled at her best friends antics as he pulled a few tools from his toolbox and set to work on fixing the small bell and it's mechanism that hung over the shops front door. Xander was one of the first to befriend her after only being in Sunnydale for three weeks. She had bought the shop she stood in now but back then it was a run down little old shop that was in massive need of a little TLC. Xander worked in construction and renovation and she had hired him to help clean up and renovate the shop. The two had clicked instantly and a friendship had formed. He was in a long term relationship with his girlfriend Anya, who Buffy adored. Anya was the kind of woman who said what was on her mind and didn't sugar coat things. Buffy admired her for that.

They had hung out a few times in the shop while Xander worked and it wasn't long before they all got together for coffee outside of their working hours. They had introduced her to their friends, another couple who were absolutely inseparable and practically joined at the hip, Willow and Tara. The two girls were a little bit quirky but quirky Buffy could deal with. They all got on like a house on fire and five years later still remained the best of friends.

Her secret remained locked away.

"We still on for tonight with the gang?" Buffy asked, grabbing her coffee mug from the counter top and walking over to lean on the door frame. Xander stood a few rungs up on a ladder, pulling apart the bell that hung just above.

"Sure thing. Whatcha thinking, fighting ninjas or hulky commandos? Oooo or we could try that new-"

Buffy stopped paying attention to Xander when a cold breath of air puffed out of her lungs even though she had just taken a sip of warm coffee, goosebumps rising on her arms. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a flicker of movement.

"I need your help."

Buffy smiled at Xander and nodded her head, doing her best to ignore the spirit of a woman in her mid forties that had just materialized in the center of her shop. She had just wanted one day alone, knowing that her ghost from earlier staying behind was just a blessing in disguise.

"My son is in grave danger. Please! You have to help me!"

"How about we decide when we're all together?" Buffy held the door open as Xander stepped down from his ladder. Over the years she had done her best to shut them out, becoming better and better at ignoring them so that no one around her noticed the little conversations she would sometimes be appearing to have with herself.

"Please."

He swung the door back and forth a few times testing the bells springs, satisfied with the jingle it made with each click.

"Sounds good to me. Good as new! I would stay and chat but I'm meeting Ahn for breakfast and well, you know how she can get. I'll catcha later Buffsta."

"Bye Xand, thanks again!"

No sooner had the door shut behind him did Buffy turn and face the woman, a scowl on her face. Very much not impressed at being disrupted for the second time that day. The woman was dressed in a long black gown, a cardigan wrapped around her shoulders. Her long sandy blonde was hair down in waves and came almost half way down her back. She looked quite striking and Buffy guessed she was in a nightgown.

At least this spirit had seemed to pass peacefully she surmised with a sad sigh.

"Please, you must help him. He is in grave danger!"

The woman reached out to grab her wrist and Buffy for the first time in her life felt cold nimble fingers wrap around her wrist. Cold fingers with death's icy touch. She gasped, heart stopping . The coffee mug she held in her hand went crashing to the ground, its contents spilling on the floor.

"W-what the hell was that!"

"I-I don't know. T-that's never happened before?"

"Definitely not."