NO TIME TO DIE◦𝒔𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

chapter six.

CHAPTER SIX:
BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

A HOWLING STORM raged over Sioux Falls. Thunder and lightning rumbled from the blackened sky that had washed over southern South Dakota, making the house shudder with each growl of the sky. Rumsfeld was sleeping soundly on the sofa in front of the windows, perfectly at ease as the rain pelted against the windows. Birdie was comfortably seated at Bobby's desk in front of the smoldering fireplace, her head lazily leaned back with her eyes peacefully closed as she basked in the contentment of doing absolutely nothing.

A book was lazily tossed on the desk, the woman still unable to get through the first page of The Great Gatsby no matter how hard she tried to get into it the words written by F. Scott Fitzgerald so many years ago. An old radio that was placed in the far corner of the room was giving the local weather report for the next couple of hours so Sioux Falls residents were being kept aware of the changing weather conditions, but Birdie paid no attention to it as she focused on the sound of the pitter-pattering rain.

It was only a few days after she and the brothers had saved Bela's life, Birdie having parted ways with them in order to get her motorcycle from Bobby's. She needed her own way of getting around for when she went on solo hunts or had somewhere to be. And with her bike back in driving condition, it seemed like it was only fitting for her to get back on it——with the promise she'd be more careful on it. And thankfully, during that time, she hadn't had to deal with any more nightmares. She still wasn't sleeping a whole lot, but being at Bobby's and having Rumsfeld to sleep right by her side was comforting.

Her eyes slowly peeled open when she heard another rumble, a content sigh escaping her lips as she looked around at the empty house. Bobby was on a hunt himself, chasing down a ghoul somewhere in southern Missouri. Sam and Dean were already after a vampire who seemed to have a specific taste for blondes, figuring they'd be done with it in just a couple of days. Birdie would have tagged along with Bobby, but with him taking on a case, he'd asked her to look after Rumsfeld since the usual woman he normally asked was taking care of her sick kid. Birdie didn't mind, rather happy that she'd have his house all to herself and was free to do whatever she wanted while Rumsfeld kept her company.

"Rumsfeld," Birdie suddenly said, tilting her head towards the dog. He poked his head up at the sound of his name, looking over at the woman, tail faintly wagging back and forth. "Do you know if Bobby bought any snacks?" Rumsfeld simply stared at her. She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and stood up, heading into the kitchen to see for herself. "I'll take that as a maybe."

Birdie swiftly made her way into the kitchen, Rumsfeld simply watching her move as he lounged on the couch. She let out a sigh as she opened up the fridge, huffing when she saw a carton of expired milk, two beer cans, and a carton of eggs. She shook her head and stood up straight, closing the fridge with disappointment. She glanced over at the counter, a gasp escaping her lips when she spotted a carton of Oreos hidden behind some dusty old cookbooks.