*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy Summers was hot. And not in that, 'blonde bomb shell, green eyed, shapely tanned legs that go on for days' kind of hot, either. Hot in the 'stranded on a desert road in the blazing, melt your brain, heat of the Arizona sun' kind of way. And she had been for nearly two hours now. It was a few minutes after 7:00 and she had yet to see another car on the road.
She sighed, popping the last bit of her granola bar in her mouth and taking a long gulp of Grape flavored water before opening the door of her custom ordered bubble gum pink Bentley. She stood, stretching her cramped muscles, then poured the remaining water down the front of her back tank top.
A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as the cool liquid ran down her neck, along the valley between her breasts, and down her toned stomach. She stretched again as the water momentarily cooled her skin, and then flopped back down on the tan leather seats of her car.
"Any minute now," Buffy mused, staring down the empty road.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was almost 11:00.
She wasn't scared. Not even when the occasional animal made a funky noise that was suspiciously close. Oh, no. Not scared. She was pissed. She was Buffy Anne Summers - daughter of Hank Summers, head cheerleader, honor student, homecoming queen, student body president, not to mention the winner of countless beauty pageants and talent shows. And she'd been stranded for over five hours.
No one had come looking for her. And if anyone had called, she wouldn't know. Her cell phone had no service in this god forsaken place. So she sat, cursing her father and her own stupidity. Her stomach growled. The last thing she had to eat was over three hours ago and she was starved.
"Toughen up, Summers," she muttered to herself, disgusted that she'd gotten herself into this predicament. She should've planned ahead. She should have called Winifred to let her know that, due to her father's complete disregard for her feelings, she would be driving down for her visit a week earlier than planned.
Instead, she'd let her emotions cloud her judgment, as per usual, and look where it had gotten her. The thought of walking to the nearest town had crossed her mind. However the last town she'd gone through had been two hours back and all she had been able to see in the opposite direction when the sun was still up was desert, desert and, oh yea, desert.
Suddenly she realized just how alone she was. No one knew where to look for her even if they knew to look in the first place. She had no food, no water and no blankets and the temperature was dropping rapidly. The fear of hypothermia crossed her mind.
"That'd be just like you to freeze to death in the middle of a desert, Buffy," She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "God, I'm such a dumbass."
Trying desperately not to panic and keep her breathing under control, Buffy laid her head back against the seat and allowed herself to slip into a light slumber.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Your mother is dead, Buffy! And I've moved on. It's time you did the same. I care about Cindy and if you'd just give her a chance--"
"Oh! You care about her! I'm sorry Dad. I didn't realize that you cared about her! I thought she was just another piece of ass. Y'know like Holly, Kara, Michelle, Tina, Georgette..."
"That's enough, Buffy." Hank's voice was cold; his face red as he glared at her.
"You know what, Hank? You're absolutely right. That is enough. I'm leaving."
"No the hell you're not. You're going to go back downstairs and you're going to apologize to Cindy for everything you said."
"I am not apologizing to your whore. And it doesn't matter anyway. Give me half an hour to pack and you and Cindy can have the house all to yourselves."
"You are not leaving this house."
"Newsflash, Daddy. I'm eighteen. I can do whatever the hell I want. Now get out of my room. I'll let you know when I leave."
She expected more of a fight from him. She really did. His only daughter was leaving - for good if everything worked out the way she wanted it to - and all he really cared about was his new girlfriend. He stared at her for a few moments then turned around, slamming the door as he left.
She had won the battle of wills. Hank had left. Then why did she feel so horrible? Oh, yea. Maybe it was because her "father" cared more about his precious new girlfriend's feelings than those of his daughter. Yea, maybe that was it.
Buffy collapsed onto her bed. Lying back, she went over in her mind everything she would need to pack. It took her several moments to notice the tears streaming down her face.
Buffy was suddenly jolted awake - ending the dream. Was it only this morning that she had left Los Angeles after that horrible fight with her father? It seemed like ages ago. Of course being stranded on the side of the road may have had something to do with it. And what was that noise?
Then it hit her: the noise that had woken her up from her less-than-pleasant dream was an engine. A car was headed towards her!
"Oh, thank God!" Without a second thought, she threw the car door open and jumped out. In the distance, she saw a light getting closer. Excitement raced through her. She was saved! With a squeal she started jumping up and down, waving her arms. Not that the driver could see her - it was pitch black. But that didn't stop her enthusiastic actions.
"Wait a minute..." Cars usually have two headlights. Unless one of them was out. But the closer the vehicle got, the less it looked and sounded like a car and more like a ---
"Motorcycle?"
Instantly all her relief and excitement turn to fear. In her mind's eye she saw the pilot of the bike. Huge, bearded and tattooed. Smelly - with a beer belly and a ponytail. She shuddered. The kinds of guys she normally saw riding bikes weren't exactly the most upstanding looking citizens. And with the way her luck was running lately, even if the creep stopped, he'd probably want some sort of "payment" for any assistance he gave her. She shuddered again, but what choice did she have? There had been no other cars on the road tonight. She was starving and tired and she so needed a shower.
"Please let this be a good idea..." Buffy muttered and started waving her arms again as the motorcycle got closer. She had to shield her eyes as the light came to shine on her. The cycle passed her but it was slowing down. Buffy turned to watch as the motorist turned around and came back her way.
"He's stopping. That's good. It means he's a nice man who wants to help me and not a psychotic serial killer." Taking a deep breath, Buffy plastered a smile on her face as the cycle came to a halt right in front of her. Momentarily blinded by the light, she squinted and turned away.
"Well, what do we have 'ere?" A suspiciously familiar voice, filled with mirth asked.
Buffy turned to look at her "rescuer" when he dimmed the light a bit.
No. Please, no. This can't be happening. I'll take bearded and tattooed any day over this...
Finally, her eyes adjusted to the softer light and she got a good look at the driver. His trademark smirk was firmly in place, a helmet rested under a leather clad arm. With an amused snort and shake of his head, he grinned at her.
"Hello, cutie."