Could she deny the slight, thin thrill of the chase? Or even refuse it? Better to embrace it. Buffy did so and hoped that her feet would land squarely with each stride. She didn't want to catch a root and fall and lose the quarry. And she didn't want to lose the clarity of mind she felt just inches outside of her reach. Dirty dealing, indeed.

So Buffy gave such thrilling chase up until the lake's shore. This lake -- so familiar -- used to have a house by it.

What a different time that was.

"End of the line, Drusilla." The Slayer slipped into a steady stance. Unwinded.