It has been eighteen years since I left this place behind, yet it never left me.

Sunnydale.

"Buffy, I need you." Was all that Willow, my best friend and one of the most powerful witches of her time, had gotten out when the line had gone dead the night before.

I had never liked the idea of her staying back 'to guard Hellmouth' when the rest of us had moved away and got on with our lives.

I parked my car on the curb of Willow's home and knocked on the porch door.
The creature who looked and sounded like my best friend opened the door. "Buffy!" it exclaimed and opened its arms.

It didn't get far. I have been a slayer since I was sixteen. I have never stopped being one, even after all these years. If anything, I have honed my skills. I am not impulsive, and nor do I get swayed anymore. I have grown.
I smiled and slit her throat in one swift move. My weapon: my custom-made silver-laced car keys.

The shifter shed its gab, revealing its true self; it fell on the porch, withering in pain.

"Spill, and you will not suffer." I offered it a choice, and it croaked, "The Tower."
I nodded, kept my promise, and left.

With google guiding me, I drove towards my destination. Nothing looked familiar. Youngsters 'chilling' outside ice cream parlors and shopping centers swooshed past my window.

Sora, my fourteen-year-old, would have fit right in.

The Tower reeked of death. There was a familiar fragrance too, but I couldn't place it.

Maybe, I was getting too old for this job.
With the yellow sapphire talisman (the all-seeing eye) Willow had given me decades ago hanging around my neck, I strode inside confidently. My destination: the thirteenth floor. My clue: it was the only one whose windows were open.

"Buffy!" The woman in front of me this time was Willow. She offered me a glorious smile. "Did you like getting your hands dirty?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Willow, are you-"

I was in her arms before I could finish.

"I wanted to tell you over the phone, but someone suggested that it would be better if you saw it for yourself." She let me go and pulled me into the elevator.

"Where are we going?"

"Hellmouth," She replied as the doors closed. "where the real fun is."

Before I could finish contemplating, the doors opened. I recalled the fragrance a moment before I saw him. Angel.

"Buffy, you look well." The vampire with the to-die-for lop-sided smile I had fallen for decades ago didn't look a day older than twenty-five. "Ready to dust some vamps?" He asked, baring his canines.

As I grinned back at him, years melted away into nothingness.

I was sixteen again and back to where I belonged, ready to kick some undead, demonic butt.