The Myth Killer

Author: Nika
Rating: R to NC-17
Disclaimers: Based on the characters created by Joss Whedon for the Buffy the Vampire Slayer T.V show and comics. None of the canon characters are mine, I have never claimed that they are mine and I never will claim that they are mine. I'm just borrowing them to have some good clean fun (well that is until I get to the NC-17 and R rated parts then it gets a little dirty.) Any other characters are mine like the 'Myth Killer' for example. I swear I don't make money off any of this, though I must confess I really wish I could cause writing this stuff is so much better than work.
Summary: Tara is a tough second generation cop in N.Y. She's riddled with guilt and is having problems on the job. Her Captain puts his foot down and assigns her an unwanted, inexperienced and redheaded partner. Tara must face her inner demons, baby-sit a rookie cop that drives her nuts in more ways than one, all while trying to solve one of the most challenging cases of her career.
Distribution: If you want it posted on your site I have no problems but please ask first. I'm easy, I'll always say yes. (That didn't sound so naughty in my head.)
Feedback: Yes please. It's nice to be fed.

The sun broke through the blinds and landed over the woman's sleep depraved eyes. She squinted and tried with one hand to shield her blue orbs from the pain that daylight brought. No such luck. She crossed both arms under her head and shut her eyes tightly, doing her best to ignore the fact that it was time to pretend that she had awoken and join the land of the living. Again, there was another harsh reminder that it was morning, the screeching and piercing sound of the alarm clock ringing in her ears. She let out a disgruntled moaning sound before taking the offending siren and flinging it against the wall. It shattered into pieces and lay scattered and silent over the floor. It was the third of its kind this week to meet its demise in the same fashion. Its none too gentle 'killer' looked upon her handy work with and empty stare.

After a few moments of meaningless thought the blonde threw the bed covers off her body and with an exasperated look on her face she swung her legs to the side of the bed. She took a moment to breathe deeply in and out and finally mustered enough will power to get herself out of bed. She walked purposefully towards the bathroom discarding her white boxer shorts and tank top along the way. The cold water turned on at full force actually felt good against her skin at least it felt like something, something different to numb. She remained with her head under the spray with her outstretched arms pushing at the wall until the water wasn't enough to drown out her dark thoughts.

'Fuck! Donnie.' She muttered before roughly slapping her hands on the shower wall and shutting off the spray. She dried herself off quickly and looked into the bathroom mirror contemplating her image as she brushed her teeth with automated strokes.

She stopped almost suddenly and spit out the minty foam in her mouth. She put down her toothbrush and gulped before bringing her right index finger just over her eye brow she didn't cringe even though the slight touch on the recent wound had caused her a sudden rush of pain. She shut her eyes as a flood of images came to her mind. She grunted and without thinking about it balled her hand into a fist and punched the mirror. The glass shattered and a few shards imbedded themselves in the guilty fist as a fitting revenge. The blonde realized the stupidity of her actions as she stared almost dumbly at the blood flowing from the small wounds but really couldn't bring herself to care.

She took another deep breath and opened the nearly broken cabinet door and got down to the business of quickly cleaning and bandaging her hand, she didn't want to be late even though now if she really thought about it, it wasn't really important. She had already been too late when it had really mattered.

The blonde took a look around her messy apartment; it sharply contrasted with the clean and crisp clothes that hung over her favorite chair just waiting to be donned. She dressed taking care not to wrinkle a single item of clothing while wrestling with her emotions.

'Keep it together.' She played this phrase over and over again in her mind like a mantra as she left the apartment and hailed a cab not fully trusting her focus enough to drive.

It was a bright and sunny day. The grass was crisp and green, the breeze was just cool enough to refresh and strong enough to naturally tousle a hair or two out of place.The blonde walked over the green expanse of well catered lawn and thought that the weather was too nice for day like this one. The day shouldn't be so warm and light, the birds shouldn't be chirping so merrily outside. It should be a grey and rainy day, a day more fit for a funeral.

Continue to The Myth Killer Chapter Two

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