Fic: All's Fair 2/4 Vampire Stories B/W/X NC17

[Crys Loch <pagansoul@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

"Not very flattering."  Buffy cut in.



"Still, has it's accurate points."  Willow countered.  "Doesn't matter 
though, cause it makes a really weird name nowadays.  You, by the way, 
mythology wise, fit Atalanta."



"As in the city?"  Buffy's expression was puzzled and hinting at distaste.



"No, not Atlanta, or Atlantis.  Which city?"  Willow quickly waved the 
question away and continued before it could be answered.  "Anyway, 
At-a-lan-ta," Willow carefully pronounced each syllable.  "In the Greek 
Myths, she was a great hunter.  But again, not a great name.  Also, I 
thought maybe a variation of Joan of Arc, but... way too obvious and 
weird again."



"No."  Buffy vetoed right away.  "I like the name Joan, but I don't want 
to be some myth or legend.  What's 'hunter' in Spanish?"  She offered as 
an alternative.



"Cazador."  Willow answered without needing to check the translator.  
"It didn't really feel right for you though.  Unless you like it, I mean." 



"No."  Buffy confirmed.  "You're right.  Not really me."  Buffy looked 
past Willow, trying to let names and words float through her mind but 
generally drawing a blank.



Willow spoke into the silence.  "Back to mythology, there is one thing 
that kinda worked."  She continued when Buffy returned her attention.  
"How about Pheonix?"



"Again with a city."  Buffy shook her head in the negative.



"The first wasn't really a city."  Willow absently corrected as she 
prepared herself for the next suggestion.  Tentatively, after a brief 
pause, she offered the last possibility she had found so far.  "Um, 
Buffy, I know cazador didn't really work.  But, um, there is Morte."



Buffy just stared at Willow.  The near apology evident on Willow's face 
cut short her first reaction of anger.  Instead, Buffy closed her eyes, 
running the possible name over in her mind.  She remembered the image of 
the first Slayer and the words, 'death is your gift'.  Buffy held a 
small sad smile and she returned her attention to her anxious friend.  
"You put 'death' in the translator for me."  It was a statement more 
than a question.



"I...I didn't mean to."  Willow denied.  Realizing what she just said, 
she shook her head slightly and let it drop back against the chair.  
"Okay, that was stupid."



Buffy's face softened and she cut off anything further being said by 
stroking Willow's hair, letting the caress give her time to consider the 
word again and what she should say.  "It's okay, Will."



"No it's not, Buffy."  Willow sat up, refusing to be comforted.  "It's 
just 'Slayer' didn't translate at all and I shouldn't have even brought 
it up.  You should have a champion's name.  Not something like that."



"No.  It's okay."  Buffy cut her off again.  She gently placed her 
fingers under Willow's chin, tilting her face and forcing Willow's eyes 
to meet her own.  "It makes sense, Will.  Death has always defined me, 
it's what made so much of everything's that happened happen."  Buffy 
offered a small smile and tried again, intent on untangling her thoughts 
and her words.  "It's been my own deaths that started the split in the 
Slayer line: that opened the Hellmouth at all at first, and eventually, 
it's what closed it, too.  It's what defeated the Master and Glory.  
It's what's been with me every night."  Buffy shook her head, the 
realization solid in her mind.  "Every night I brought death.  Every 
night.  And now..."  Buffy returned her eyes to Willow's.  "Now death's 
finally, literally, a part of me.  It's okay, Will.  I accept: the 
name.  That champion, she's gone, Will.  The champion is gone.  That 
whole thing is in others' hands now.  It's done.  Morte."



"Buffy, I'm sorry."  Willow spoke the words so sincerely, for the 
briefest moment, there was guilt.  Even after it was gone, the memory of 
it remained and Willow had to lower her eyes, shaken.



"I'm not."  Buffy's flat admission pulled Willow's surprised attention 
and she shrugged in response.  "Well, I'm not.  It's long past time I 
was out of the game.  And I meant it, what I said before about not being 
able to just kill you and not being able to just live and let you go, 
either.  I meant it; when I didn't fight, when I tilted my head.  And I 
guess I meant it, too, when I drank."  Buffy's hands shook slightly at 
the memory.  "What I am sorry about is that apparently, and all this 
time, we were fighting for the powers that be idiots."



Willow nodded to herself, accepting Buffy's willingness to use the name, 
and smirked a little at Buffy's latest choice of names for gods.  
"You're still going on about that?"



"Oh, I'm going to be going on about that for a while."  Buffy promised.  
"Keep the Joan part, Will.  I like Joan."



"Joan Morte."  Willow jotted the name down on a piece of paper, grateful 
the name search had ended.  "But won't we have to call you Joan from now 
on?  That's just weird."



"Everyone was sure 'Buffy' had to be a nickname, anyway.  Now it is."  
Buffy smiled, staring at her new identity on the paper. 



"It's ironic.  In a cool way, I mean."  Willow tagged on at the end.



"What is?"  Buffy tilted her head, wondering where Willow was off to, now.



"Your name."  Willow smiled and continued.  "I mean, who you were, are, 
whatever, it's gonna live forever."



"Willow, that whole destiny, champion thing; it did die."  Buffy gently 
corrected.



"Yeah, but your memories, experiences, personality; all that stays."  
Willow countered.  "I did understand what Angel was going on about 
before you so kindly cut him off that time: when we met my vamp self."



"And yet you are nothing like her, now."  Buffy pointed out.



"Well, a lot's happened since early high school."  Willow reasoned.



Buffy laughed.  "True.  Have you picked a name for yourself?  What do we 
call you now?"



"Yeah, well, 'Willow' is a little easy to trace.  But, you know, being 
my name I got used to it.  So, I came up with Willameena.  People can 
still shorten it to 'Willow' or 'Will', phonetically and it will screw 
with any search if you spell it out."  Willow wrote her new first name 
on the paper just under Buffy's to illustrate.



"Okay,"  Buffy nodded her understanding, "but what about the last name?"



"I was thinking 'Flamme'."  Again, Willow wrote it out.  "It's the 
French spelling," she explained.



"I don't get it."  Buffy admitted.  "Why 'flame'?"



"Well, I'm like a pyromaniac."  Willow took Buffy's hand in both her 
own, turning the palm up, she stroked her fingers over the exposed 
skin.  "The magic, it's a lot like fire.  When controlled, it can be 
used for good, to create.  When out of control, it can destroy."  Willow 
focused her power into Buffy's palm, her finger burning the flesh as it 
slowly moved across the skin.  Letting Buffy jerk her hand away, Willow 
grinned.  "I feel it in me still.  And I can't stop playing with it."



Buffy watched as the burn mark healed and disappeared, the pain already 
faded.  "I get it now, thanks."  Reaching out with the now healed hand, 
Buffy traced Willow's jaw.  She let her fingers trail down Willow's 
neck, her chest, and resting her palm between Willow's breasts, imagined 
she could feel heat.  Buffy stared into Willow's eyes and smiled.  
"Never stop playing with it, Will."



"Okay..."  Willow placed her hand over Buffy's.  "But whole cities might 
someday burn."



"Good."  Buffy smiled warmly, but let her hand drop back to her side.  
"I thought you were gonna steal us a fortune?"  She nodded to the 
computer screen. 



"I am."  Willow confirmed.  "It's stealing as we speak.  I just needed 
to set up our bank accounts and new id's.  I'm making accounts with a 
magically enhanced long history of deposits.  And I'll put us all from 
L.A.  Big city, harder to confirm or deny our records."



"Will, you know you border evil mastermind status, right?"  Buffy 
playfully chided even as she was impressed.



"Well we battled enough of them, I learned a couple things along the 
way.  As long as we pay our taxes on the withdraws of this new found 
fortune, everything should be fine."  Willow shrugged 
self-depreciatively to counter the secret feeling of pride.



"Taxes!"  Buffy's face scrunched in disgust.  "We're evil.  Do we really 
have to pay taxes?"



"If we don't want to make the mistake of every other evil mastermind, 
yes."  Willow confirmed.  "You know what they say, Buffy.  The two 
certainties in life are death and taxes."  Hearing Buffy's answering 
laugh, Willow smiled and turned back to the computer.  "I better get 
started again.  This will still take some time."



"Okay."  Buffy impulsively kissed the top of Willow's head and moved 
towards the dresser and closet.  "I'm gonna raid some wardrobe, I hope, 
and shower and change.  Gay guy should have good taste.  I'm just hoping 
anything fits."



"Mmm.  A shower and some clean clothes does sound nice."  Willow 
absently agreed while typing into the computer.  "I think I'll do the 
same when this is done."



Willow wasn't aware of how much time was passing.  She became engrossed 
in the creating of new identities and histories, watching with growing 
excitement as bank transfers disappeared from their intended routes and 
slipped into seemingly old accounts.  She spread the monies wide and 
equally; giving each their freedom from the struggle of existence within 
human society and even from each other.  She bounced a little in her 
chair as she listed Buffy Anne Summers, Alexander Lavelle Harris and 
Willow Rosenberg as missing and presumed dead in the Sunnydale 
earthquake.  It was done.



Willow shut off the computer and rose from the seat.  She stretched, 
smiling still at a job well done.  Realizing she should get rid of the 
evidence, Willow physically opened the computer, pulling components out 
and smashing them in her hands.  She saved the hard drive for last, 
tossing the remains on the desk and casually lighting all her notes with 
a thought and a spark from her fingers.  Remembering how good the 
thought of a shower and some clean clothes felt, Willow started towards 
the closet.  Her smile faded a little and she stopped to consider the 
two men laying on the bed.



"You know, I didn't think any of it would turn out the way it did."  
Willow leaned back on her elbows against the dresser, tilting her head 
as her eyes continued to survey the dead men on the bed.  "Of course, if 
you could say something right now, you might say the same thing.  God, I 
had such a crush on her back then, when all this started.  Don't tell 
her that."  Smiling at the absurdity of the conversation, she turned and 
started to open the drawers of the dresser, looking for something to 
wear, and continued talking.  "It started out with the whole best 
intentions thing, my staying in Sunnydale after high school.  Well, that 
and maybe just a little bit of ambition in a non scholarly way, plus, I 
mentioned the crush thing that we'll never mention again."  She pulled a 
pair of jeans from a drawer and held them up, considering the size.  
"Plan was, I become this bad ass witch, helping more than needing to be 
saved.  I wanted to be feared for a change.  I wanted my own power.  I 
wanted to be like her.  Well, at least I got the fear and power part."  
Not finding a shirt she liked, Willow shut the drawers and went to the 
closet.  She turned and addressed the men, again.  "I did do some good, 
you know.  Okay, you're probably not the ones to believe me right now.  
But I did.  Especially at the end."  Willow turned again and started to 
go through the closet, looking for a shirt she could wear.  "It's not 
like I had a calling or anything.  I had to learn and take every bit of 
power I have.  I earned it."  Willow took a shirt from its hanger, 
turning away from the closet, her eyes fell on the bed, now barely 
noticing the men.  "And I was finally understanding what I should be 
doing with it, how I could really use it..."  Willow shook her head, 
stopping the direction of her thoughts and letting her rising anger go.  
She looked up past the ceiling, then down at the men.  "When they say 
that shit happens, they really mean it.  I think you'd both agree with me."



Willow left the bedroom, crossing the hall to the empty bathroom.  
Dropping her new clothes on the floor, she started the water.  She 
wasn't paying much attention to what she was doing, her mind occupied 
with her recent one-sided conversation.  She stripped off her clothes, 
letting them fall into their own pile, as she remembered how much that 
lack of calling mattered in the end.  She reminded herself again of each 
time she did good, and could still justify each mistake, but it wasn't 
until it was past too late that she learned how much that connection to 
life, that grounding meant.  And finally having that after her recovery 
in England, it started to all make sense: the power, its use and its 
trust.  Buffy always understood that trust, and even after everything, 
still showed it in the end, handing her the scythe.  With that 
connection, she could finally become what she had intended to be at the 
very beginning.  And now it was gone.  Willow felt her anger rise 
again.  Even as her mind tried to counter it, she could feel and 
understand Buffy's feeling of betrayal.  That's when she looked up into 
the mirror.



"Buffy."  Willow called as she stared at the mirror, searching for 
herself and seeing only the wall behind her.  "Buffy!"



Buffy smiled from the main room.  She had heard Willow in the bathroom 
and knew why she was calling out.  What surprised her was that it had 
taken this long.  Buffy got up and walked to the bathroom door, opened 
it and leaned on the jam.  "Pretty messed up, isn't it?"  Buffy didn't 
try to hide her humor, smiling as she watched Willow, naked and staring 
at the mirror.



Willow stood there, shaking.  Her hands were clenched into fists at her 
side as she continued to just stare at the mirror.  "It's beyond messed 
up.  Everything, this whole world, is messed up!"



Buffy noticed the anger in her voice, saw the shaking.  She rushed over 
to Willow, embracing her in her arms, she tried to calm Willow down.  
"Hey, it's okay, Will.  It's okay."



Willow relaxed a little in Buffy's arms, but only enough to unclench her 
fists and automatically wrap her arms around Buffy in return.  She 
continued to stare at the mirror, not even seeing a trace or glimmer of 
them in the reflection.  There was only the wall behind them.  "It's not 
okay," her voice ground out.  "I'm going to fix this."



Buffy stiffened at the words.  Her voice took a hard edge even as she 
tried to remain calm, not allowing herself to suddenly and violently 
shake the woman in her arms.  "Don't you dare pull me out of heaven again."



The threatening tone of Buffy's voice pulled Willow's attention from the 
mirror.  She glanced at the hard distant glare of Buffy's eyes and 
quickly cast her own eyes to the floor.  She was still shaking, the 
anger she tried to contain through reason leaking and seeping through 
her body unchecked.  "What do you mean?" 



Buffy held her friend tighter.  She could feel Willow shaking, sparks of 
magic rising and unfocussed, zapping and buzzing around her, around 
them.  It hurt, it burned.  "By 'fixing this' you meant restoring our 
souls, right?"  Buffy started stoking Willow's back, trying to calm her 
friend and in turn relax herself, ease her voice, despite the static of 
magical heat surrounding them.  "I mean, whatever a soul is, let it stay 
wherever they go.  I may not ever see heaven again, but my soul went 
through everything my mind remembers.  Let it rest."



"Buffy, I..."  Willow relaxed, knowing Buffy was right, sadness quickly 
replacing anger.  Burying her head on Buffy's shoulder, the frustration 
eased a little and the magic fell back into her.  "It's not fair.  To 
remember everything that's happened only to have this happen in the 
end.  To be exiled from what we fought so hard and lost so much to 
protect.  It's just not fair, Buffy."



"I know."  Buffy continued to soothe her friend.  "I know.  But it's 
what we got now.  It's what we are now.  We're vampires, Will.  And 
you're gonna have to let that demon out, at least a little.  Not just 
around me, and not just to feed.  We'll hunt tonight, really hunt."  
Buffy gently pulled Willow back and rested her hands on her shoulder.  
"But right now, shower."  She grinned, checking Willow's eyes to make 
sure she was calm and steady.  At Willow's grin and answering nod, she 
let her go and watched as she entered the shower.  Buffy turned to the 
mirror.  She waved her hand in front of it then shook her head, running 
the hand through her hair.  She picked up Willow's old clothes to put in 
a bag with her own and left the bathroom. 



Willow managed to get dressed and brush her hair without looking at the 
mirror again.  Leaving the bathroom, she found Buffy going through the 
CD collection by the stereo.  "Hey," she softly called.



Buffy turned towards Willow, a pile of CD's in her hand.  "Hey."  Buffy 
lifted the hand holding the CD's slightly.  "Tunes for the road."



Willow nodded.  "Cool.  We should probably see what cash they have, 
too.  We won't have access to our new fortune till we settle somewhere 
and I can get cards and checks mailed to us."



"Yeah, I figured."  Buffy set the CD's on the coffee table.  "I found 
some, enough I guess to hold us for a little while."



Willow looked at the clothes Buffy had chosen.  She laughed a little 
when she noticed the bottoms of the khakis Buffy was wearing had been 
cut and frayed just above her shoes.  "What's with the hippy look?"



"Huh?"  Buffy wasn't sure what Willow meant until she saw Willow looking 
down with a nod of her head.  "Oh, well, he's too tall, so I just cut 
them shorter.  What?  It's a look."  Buffy put her hands on her hips, 
grinning defiantly and daring Willow to mock her fashion sense.



Willow smiled, admiring the curves revealed by the stretch of the tight 
white undershirt tank Buffy had chosen, easily noticing she wasn't 
wearing a bra.  "I like the tank top."



Buffy smirked.  "I'll bet."  She took in the clothes Willow had chosen.  
"At least your jeans kinda fit."  The red button up shirt Willow had 
found hung a little big, but the sleeves were rolled up so it wasn't 
that bad.  Buffy walked up to Willow and started to unbutton the top and 
bottom buttons of the shirt, leaving only the middle two closed.  
"There.  You are a vampire now, after all."



Willow shook her head and started to re-button the shirt.  "Very funny."



"No, leave it."  Buffy admonished.  "You look sexy that way."  At 
Willow's answering smirk, she shrugged.  "I always noticed when you 
looked sexy."



"And I always noticed you looked sexy."  Willow left the shirt alone and 
stared absently at the curtained window.  "Sun's set.  I can feel it."



"Yeah.  I want to get out there, get out of here."  Buffy looked at 
Xander.  "Shouldn't he be rising and all that now?"



Before Willow could respond, indeed and on cue, Xander began to stir.  
Both women straightened in anticipation as they watched Xander shake his 
head, sit up and open his eye, the other still secreted behind the eye 
patch.  He sat there, silently staring at them, then slowly rose to his 
feet.



"What I remember happening..."  Xander's voice dropped to a menacing 
tone, "did that really happen?"  He glared at the two women and when 
they didn't answer right away, glanced around the strange room.  Xander 
locked his eye with Buffy's as she started to speak.



"Xander, it's just, well, it's always been the three of us."  Buffy 
haltingly started the explanation, surprised at the level of calm threat 
she could see in Xander's eye.



"What happened, Buffy?  You finally choose the wrong lover?"  Xander 
spat the accusation then doubled over for a moment in pain.  
Straightening, he stared defiantly at Buffy.



"Xander, just hear us out."  Willow interceded.  She wasn't prepared for 
this.  She had seen Xander angry before, many times, he was always 
angry.  She had never seen him cold.  And then, there was the nothing, 
the empty space between them, when before, always, there had been the 
ebb and flow of a love.



"Why?"  Xander leveled his stare at Willow.  "I guess she got what she 
always wanted."  He indicated Buffy with a nod.  "And you..."  Xander 
doubled over again, the hunger painfully demanding to be filled.



"And I what!"  Willow accused back, her own anger so near the surface as 
her own demon struggled to be let loose into the night.



Xander snapped back upright, looking around the room and past the women 
in front of him.  He saw the man then, secured to a chair in the 
kitchen.  Xander strode around the coffee table, past Buffy and Willow 
and knelt before the hostage taped to the chair.  He slapped the man's 
face lightly, stirring him awake.  Xander smiled when he saw hope fill 
the man's eyes and mumbled pleas started from behind the tape over his 
mouth and the chair began to rock with his struggling.  Xander started 
by undoing the tape at the man's feet, releasing his legs.  Then he 
undid the tape holding his wrists to the chair arms.  Buffy and Willow 
simply watched uncertain as Xander picked the man up from the chair and 
held his shoulders. 



Xander didn't remove the tape over the man's mouth.  He smiled as 
muffled screams started when he painfully gripped the man's upper arms, 
holding him tightly.  He relished the suddenly silent terror that filled 
the man's eyes when prominent ridges formed on his forehead and those 
eyes stared into one yellow eye.  Xander parted his lips and let his 
fangs show, his tongue snaking out to lick his upper lip.  He stood 
there, his eye dancing over the panicked struggling captive, easily 
controlling and holding him.  Finally, as he heard true screaming start 
again behind the tape, Xander bent forward and thrust his fangs into the 
man's neck.  He tore and bit savagely down, gulping the blood that 
rushed down his throat.  When no more could be pulled out, Xander 
straightened and dropped the body back into the chair.



Buffy calmly watched it all, silently grateful when Xander turned and 
fed.  She noticed Willow turning her head from the sight, and smirked 
when she heard the growl escape from Willow's lips anyway.  She watched 
the body fall and land at an odd angle in the chair, the head resting 
crooked on the table.  "Feeling better now?"  Buffy crossed her arms, 
her voice steady, smooth and kind.



"What did you do?"  Xander's face settled back to normal.  His voice 
shook slightly as he turned away from the body, his face openly begging 
understanding.



"I think that goes in the 'this answer is obvious' column."  Buffy held 
Xander's searching look.  "What do you really want to know, Xander?"



"Why."  Xander whispered.  Shaking his head, trying to maintain control, 
he looked again to Buffy.  "Why did you do this?  Why did you turn me 
into the thing that I've hated."



Buffy uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her side.  A small smile 
softened her face.  "That one's a little more complicated though really, 
just as obvious.  Because we love you, Xander."



Xander looked at Willow, saw her eyes searching for something in him, 
and he wondered what.  He looked again at Buffy, her words tripping 
memories held and he smiled.  "You only always say that when we're about 
to die."



Buffy openly smiled.  Willow quickly glanced at Buffy, the answer 
surprising her.  She cut in, her voice soft, unsure.  "Xander, please, 
don't be mad.  It would have been worse, the other way.  Could you have 
lived knowing we were vampires?  It's always been the three of us."



"And now it always will be."  Xander spread his arms wide.  "Well, here 
I am, wherever here is.  Could have sworn I made out a Sunnydale Living 
Will, if in the event you're turned, just kill me."  He let his arms 
drop and he took a step towards them, addressing Willow.  "Really, it's 
not so bad.  I feel strong for a change, aware.  Jesse was right."  
Xander started walking again, past the women and towards the front 
door.  "I'm still hungry.  Let's cause some mayhem for old Sunnydale's 
sake."  He opened the door and started into the night.



Willow turned to Buffy.  "I think we created a monster."



"In true Frankenstein fashion."  Buffy agreed.  "He's a vampire, Will.  
We, I, turned Xander into a vampire."



"I thought you said he'd be different."  Willow glanced at the open door 
and the dark outside.  "You know, cause you're the Sire."



"Come on, Will.  We better catch up to him."  Buffy led them out the 
door.  Shutting it, she glanced around, looking for a sign of Xander.  
She saw nothing so she smelled the air.  It felt odd now, her chest 
rising as her lungs expanded with air.  She caught his scent and nodded 
her head in the direction of a side street.  "That way."  They crossed 
the parking lot and started down the road after him.  "I said that Spike 
said it mattered who the Sire was.  That if you do the whole drinking 
the Sire's blood again and again you get a bigger dose of Sire.  I'll 
just, you know, have to do that and see what happens."



"Any chance that Spike lied?"  Willow dryly observed.  She glanced 
around to see where they were going.  It was a side street heading away 
from the community college.  The houses were getting smaller and more 
run down the farther they traveled.  When the sidewalk disappeared 
altogether, they continued down the road.  "Where is he?"



"He's just up ahead.  You can't smell him?"  Buffy took another breath.  
She smiled at the scent of dry grass, and somewhere, roses.  She could 
easily pick up Xander's lingering trace and others, fainter and 
unknown.  There was also the overwhelming the scent of motor oil and 
garbage and what she thought must be rust and rot.  Looking around, she 
saw houses unkempt, their porches leaning, their yards cluttered with 
old toys and broken cars.  She stopped breathing.



"Smell him?"  Willow took an experimental breath, coughing when the 
stench of old garbage spilled onto the road from a tipped over trash can 
overwhelmed her.  "Yeah, okay, he's in there somewhere."



"And didn't he just pick the nicest part of town."  Buffy noticed him 
then and pointed.  Xander was standing in a lot at the end of the road 
circled by a dozen broken down RV's and trailers.  They walked up to 
stand beside him.



"I know these places."  Xander addressed Buffy and Willow without 
looking at them.  "They call them retirement parks.  Actually, it's just 
where old alcoholics can afford to live and drink themselves to death.  
I probably have family here.  Where is here, anyway?"



"Redding."  Willow answered.  She thought it must be too far north for 
Xander to have any family here, but she knew Xander's family, and knew 
what he meant.  "A small town in northern California.  We've been going 
north."



"How long was I out?"  Xander finally started to wonder what had 
happened since his last memory.



"Just a day."  It was Buffy's turn to answer.  "It seemed like forever, 
but we drove all night, stopped here, and it's been just one day."



"Drove?"  Xander had a million questions it seemed to him in his mind, 
but they were being rapidly pushed aside by his growing hunger and 
rising anger.  He stared at the trailers, his stomach turning at the 
thought of feeding from any of the people who could live here.  People 
who beat their kids when they were too young to fight back and who 
cursed those same kids now for never visiting and never sending money.  
Or maybe there were people here who never had anyone and numbed the pain 
of loneliness still, waiting to die. 



"Yeah."  Buffy turned to look at Xander, curious why he was staring so 
intently at broken trailers, these poor scraps of shelter.  She wondered 
what they were doing here.  "Willow stole us a car."



Xander smiled.  "Way to go, Will."  He turned then, looking around and 
peering into the bare dirt spaces that separated the trailers.  "You 
know what will fix this place right up?  A gas can, and a match."



"Xander!  No."  Willow immediately protested.  "We can't just... just 
kill people!"  She stepped in front of Xander, making him look at her.



"Oh, don't tell me we're doing the whole vampires with soul crap!"  
Xander stepped away from Willow.  "Just keep your mojo off me, Will."



"No, we're not."  Buffy stepped in.  "No souls.  But Willow's right, 
Xander.  Why kill these people?"



"Why not?"  Xander countered.  "Distraction, crowd, bound to be younger 
people there.  I'm not feeding from them."



"There's a college here."  Buffy hoped the suggestion would be enough of 
a distraction. 



"That'll work, too."  Xander smiled at the idea.  "Where?"



"Back up the road, the other direction."  Buffy pointed in the general 
direction.  She was surprised that Xander had his human face showing.  
She expected to see the demon.



"Figures."  Xander shook his head and without giving the park another 
glance, started running back up the road.



Willow watched him race back the way they came and quickly disappear 
into the dark.  "Well isn't he just the barrel of monkeys."



"What was that all about?"  Buffy turned to Willow for the explanation, 
guessing she did have some clue.



"I'm not sure, but I think it had to do with a family reunion and the 
rest of the summer spent with a great uncle when he was young.  Long 
story."  Willow confessed vaguely. 



"Well, we better follow him."  Buffy started to leisurely walk back up 
the road, Willow falling in step beside her.  "I'm going hunting 
tonight, Will."



"Well, yeah, we all are."  Willow glanced at Buffy, increasing her 
stride when Buffy picked up the pace.



"No, I mean I'm going to hunt them, not just feed once, quickly."  Buffy 
clarified.  "I'm going to choose, chase, slay.  I need to feel the 
hunt.  I need..."  Buffy looked at Willow, waiting till the pause forced 
her friend to look over at her.  "And so do you."



"I know, Buffy."  Willow stared back up the road, after Xander.  The 
hunger was consuming her thoughts and Xander's feral lust for the kill 
seemed to pull at her, tugging her into the dark after him.  "I'm 
wondering, how fast can I run?"  Willow took off.  The houses lining the 
road became only a blur of muted grays rushing back past her.  Her eyes 
clearly saw the dips and bumps of uneven road, sidewalks, a bus stop 
bench she hurdled, laughing.  So quickly, she found herself on the 
sprawling campus.  She took a breath, searching for Xander, smiling when 
there was now the scent of green grass, trees, roses, and there he was, 
to the left.  She adjusted her course, speeding down a cement path.  She 
looked back to see if Buffy was following.



Buffy was gaining quickly on Willow, easily passing her a moment after 
they changed course.  With barely contained joy, Buffy turned to face 
Willow, running backwards as deftly and with as much speed as Willow 
could run forward.  She smirked, her face morphing to show her demon, to 
taunt Willow's own.  Motioning Willow with her hands to 'come on', Buffy 
turned and bolted down the path towards Xander and the main buildings of 
the campus.



Willow laughed and increasing her speed, darted off the path, hurdling 
another bench along the side and cutting across a lawn.  Buffy and 
Xander were standing just ahead in a courtyard when she caught up to 
them.  "Wow, look at me, not even winded." 



Buffy turned towards Willow then glanced back at Xander.  "Finally, you 
two can keep up with me."



"Funny."  Xander confirmed with a hint of a smile.  "Let's see how well 
you can keep up with me.  I see a couple coeds now.  It's time to see if 
this new Xander has any luck with the ladies."  Xander left them, 
jogging to catch the two women who had just left one of the buildings 
and were slowly walking down one of the paths off the courtyard.  
Interrupting their conversation, he pushed himself between them, put his 
arm around each of their shoulders and introduced himself.  He guided 
their protesting and struggle off the path to a dark patch behind some 
trees.  Experimenting, he released one of the woman's shoulders only to 
grab her one handed around the neck, choking her strength and screams 
from her as she feebly tried to push away his arm.  He paused, marveling 
at his strength, the ease with which he could hold her.  The other 
woman, frozen at first by panic, suddenly snapped into full awareness of 
the danger she was in.  She tried to pull away, kicking at his legs and 
twisting.  Xander reacted, grabbing her by the back of the neck, he held 
her tightly against him and quickly sank his fangs into her neck.  He 
ripped her throat and drank hungrily at the blood that spurted into his 
mouth.  He wrapped his arm around her, hugging her to himself as she 
grew more limp and finally collapsed dead in his grasp.  Xander let her 
drop to the ground and turned toward the other woman he held at arms 
length, hand at her throat.  His mouth was bloody, his eye yellow under 
the large ridged forehead of the vampire's visage, and he expected 
renewed panic and another attempt to get away.  But the woman hung 
lifeless in his grasp.  In the thrill of the feeding, his hand had grown 
too tight, choking off the blood to her brain and the breath to her 
lungs.  She was dead.  "Damn, don't know my own strength I guess."  
Xander muttered to himself, his smile cold.  He let her drop to the 
ground next to her friend.  "Well, I'm sure there's more."



Buffy shook her head as Xander set out again.  Looking around, she 
spotted a young man leaving one of the buildings and going down another 
path in the opposite direction.  She turned back to Willow.  "You wanna 
come with?"



Willow shook her head.  "Nah.  He's only one.  We'll split up and meet 
back here?"



"Okay.  Will, you're gonna let it out, right?"  Buffy checked in, and 
smiled as she watched Willow's face lightly morph and fangs hinted past 
her lips.



"Yeah.  I'll play.  It's like I'm buzzed on too many mochas."  Willow 
confirmed.  "Go.  Hunt.  Slay."



Buffy nodded and turned to follow after the man she noticed before.  She 
picked up her pace to catch him, easily catching the scent and turning 
down another of the paths through campus.  She chose to pass him on one 
of the darker, more secluded sections of the path, noting that this 
clearly isn't Sunnydale and these students aren't even subconsciously 
aware of this type of danger.  She wanted to clue him in.  Turning so 
that she faced him and blocked his path, she held up her hand to stop 
him.  "Hi," she addressed him, her face slipping into demon form, "I'm 
going to give you a head start."



The man started backing slowly away from Buffy, unsure and unable to 
interpret what he was seeing.  "Who.  What are you?"



"The other side of the coin."  Buffy grinned cryptically.  "I was once 
heads, but I guess now you could say I'm tales."  She started to circle 
around him, directing him back towards the direction he was first 
heading.  "At one time I'd have been jumping in right now to your rescue 
against something like me.  But now, well, I guess you lose this coin 
toss.  You might want to run."



He did then, he turned and ran as fast as he could down the path, not 
even caring anymore what it was or what it meant and only hoping he 
could reach his car in time.  He slid to a halt, his feet slipping from 
under him and falling when Buffy seemed to suddenly appear in front of him.



"Changed my mind."  Buffy looked down at the man who was trying to get 
back on his feet while crawling backwards away from her.  "We'll do this 
here."



The man shucked his backpack and righted himself.  The panic cleared 
from his mind as his recreational martial arts training told him he 
could defend himself.  However ugly this woman appeared, she was still 
just a small girl.  He brought his hands up and his feet apart, ready in 
his stance.



Buffy halted her approach and just looked incredulously at him.  "This 
should be fun.  I gotta warn ya, though, I've done this before."



"Yeah, you don't look like the virgin type," the man quipped, then 
steeling himself, started a series of strikes, aiming for her face and 
chest.  He reached only air as she dodged and moved just out of his 
reach, swaying and sliding.  He moved in with kicks at the knees and 
then to sweep her off her feet.  Again, he found nothing and ended up 
twisted off balance and turned around.



"Too slow."  Buffy informed him.  "Come on, what are you, a virgin 
yourself?  Harder, faster."  She taunted him, content to simply move 
slightly out of the way and dance around the attempted blows.  She was 
enjoying this.



He kept trying, his mind searching and attempting every move he could 
remember.  There were no counter blows to block and he focused 
frustrated on the blurred form that all so swiftly alluded him.  Winded, 
he paused, turning and searching as the woman he now desperately feared 
kept herself just past his sight.



"At least you tried."  Buffy quietly commended, as she stepped quickly 
up behind him and wrapped an arm around his chest.  Holding him firmly 
to herself, she easily sank her fangs into his neck and gently pulled at 
the racing pulse.  Buffy wrapped her other arm around him and held him 
as he started to go limp in her arms.  She drank softly, lapping her 
tongue at the wound, letting his death go easy and feeling his life 
slowly fill and warm her.  When it ended, she picked him up and set the 
body down on a nearby bench.  Stroking his hair off his face, her own 
relaxed and returned to human.  "I used to kill for better purpose than 
this.  Still, and especially at the end, I only killed.  Ask the high 
school kids I found chanting around a Hellmouth.  Maybe it's Karma.  
Maybe it's what I deserved.  Don't ask me what you deserved though.  I 
swear I don't know."  Buffy straightened and looked up at the stars 
starting to show themselves on a clear night.  "Hell, now Willow has me 
trying to figure this out."



Willow was left alone in the courtyard.  She watched Buffy take off down 
a path after the young man.  She turned and tried to see where Xander 
had run off to, but he was deep into the dark of the campus.  She didn't 
see any people leaving the buildings or walking down the paths that 
intersected through the courtyard.  Willow closed her eyes and tilted 
her head, curious what other heightened senses she might now possess.  
She heard laughter in the lobby of one of the buildings.  They might 
come out soon.  She heard a rustling in the bushes far down one of the 
paths, maybe a dog.  A car moving down one of the side roads away from 
the college.  Muted, faint conversations at varying distances away.  
Insects gave the picture a low hum of background noise.  Then the sound 
of footsteps, distant and approaching from the path behind her.  Willow 
opened her eyes, her face sliding back into human form, turned and 
headed down the path to meet them.



The path was well lighted in this part, benches lining the side for 
conversations between classes and smaller paths branching out from it.  
Willow walked casually towards the one set of footsteps, her eyes and 
ears noticing that there was no-one else in the area.  They would be 
alone when they met, so there was no hurry.  A form began to take shape 
out of the distance between them.  Willow smiled as she realized it was 
a woman.  The details cleared as Willow got closer.  A beautiful woman, 
petite, long dark hair, she reminded Willow of Kennedy.  Especially when 
she recognized an attitude; leather jacket, jeans, boots creating the 
footsteps so easily heard, and a confident swagger in her steps.  The 
woman reminded Willow of so many things.  Her demon growled, itching to 
come out and play.  As they neared each other, Willow stopped in front 
of the woman, halting her progress.  "Hey."  She smiled what she hoped 
was in a friendly manner, though with the demon so close to the surface, 
she doubted it came across that way.



"Hi."  The woman stopped a few feet from Willow, the search for 
recognition and doubt clearly evident on her face.  Deciding she didn't 
know the person in front of her and a feeling of unease crawling inside 
her, she started to go around Willow, hoping to just continue on her way.



Willow didn't know what else to say and conversation felt unneeded.  She 
wanted to feed.  And she felt a craving desire to feed from this woman, 
a compulsion stronger than any she had felt before.  Willow stepped in 
front of her again, close and menacing.  She let her face reveal her 
hunger, yellow eyes boring into brown ones, relishing the challenge she 
found in them.  She reached out and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, 
pulling her close and bent her head towards the woman's neck.  Willow 
was shocked when she realized she was suddenly flying back through the 
air and landed hard on the ground.  Picking herself up, she eyed the 
woman who was standing still on the path, hands clenched and staring at 
her angrily. 



"Look you little freak," the woman spat at Willow, "I don't know what 
you think you're doing, but you better stay the hell away from me."



Willow smirked, moving back in front of the woman, she left some 
distance between them.   She let the demon remain on her face, growling 
low in her throat as she recognized the only thing that could give this 
woman that kind of strength: her own spell.  This was a slayer, 
untrained and unaware.  Her demon danced inside her skin in 
anticipation.  "Pretty strong for a young girl."  She watched the 
woman's eyes harden, her stance lower and ready for a fight.  "Pretty 
instinctual as well.  You ready for a fight?  Come on, give it your best 
shot.  Here, I'll start."  Willow stepped quickly up to the woman and 
punched her hard across the jaw, twisting the head sideways.



The woman didn't fall, only took a step back for balance and touching 
her jaw, turned to face Willow.  Anger rose from deep inside her and 
pushed her into action.  Stepping forward, she jabbed at Willow's face, 
missing, and followed with a left hook.  She barely missed again, 
Willow's speed surprising her, and found herself turned around, almost 
off balance.  She quickly adjusted her feet and threw her elbow back, 
connecting with Willow's face.  Turning, gaining confidence, she bounced 
on the balls of her feet, facing Willow and ready for more.



Willow stepped back and shook her head.  The power and sting of the blow 
reminding her this was still a slayer, however untrained.  She offered 
the woman a smile and a nod of recognition and respect.  With renewed 
focus, the fight started again.  They traded blows and blocks.  Willow 
dodged or diverted most, only the occasional hit getting through and 
kick sending her back.  She had more experience with fighting, 
especially fighting for one's life.  Willow connected far more often, 
sending strikes to the midsection and jaw, wanting to wear her down, 
content to wait for her to make a big mistake.  She kept her eyes on the 
hands, ever watchful for an impromptu weapon or stake.  The woman's 
hands remained empty and clenched into fists.  Willow jumped over a 
sweep at her legs.  The woman fell off balance and Willow quickly moved 
in for the kill.  Grabbing the woman's arms, and pulling the slayer's 
back tightly against her front, Willow bent quickly down and bit into 
her neck.  She heard the gasp and the blood flooded her mouth.  She 
drank deeply and quickly, pulling the fight and strength from the young 
slayer.  The fight was over.  It felt like fire filled her and she 
nearly howled into the neck.  Willow calmed only as the slayer died.  
She picked the body up and laid her down under a tree.  Standing, Willow 
reached out to touch the rough bark, knowing that any of its branches 
could have been the weapon that might have saved this girl's life.  'But 
she didn't know that,' Willow remarked in her thoughts.  'Even in a 
spell for good, there is evil.  They'll never reach all the new slayers 
in time.'



Willow stretched, excess energy vibrated through her.  She felt hot, 
connected, there was something; deep, strong, she could almost touch.  
She searched the feeling, trying to place, name, what she was suddenly 
grounded to.  'The earth?' she wondered.  She had felt it before with 
Buffy and thought it was just Buffy, but it was in all slayers.  In 
their blood, there was a calling.  Willow felt no more craving or desire 
to hunt, so she walked back to the courtyard.  She would enjoy telling 
the others what she found tonight.



Xander moved on down the path in search of another woman.  There was a 
swagger in his step now.  He could literally feel the night and he was a 
part of it.  A part of the cold that washed over the earth for a time.  
His time.  His calling.  It wasn't long till he saw another woman almost 
reaching the door of a campus building.  Speeding up, he intercepted 
her, blocking her entrance and gleefully giving stuttered chase to her 
as she ran to towards a side door, then racing ahead to block that as 
well.  Before she could scream for help, he clasped his hand over her 
mouth and shoved her hard against the wall of the building.  Smiling at 
the panic in her eyes, he bent forward and fed.  Her life vibrated 
through his body and he stretched his neck, enjoying the flush warmth.  
Xander tossed the body behind some bushes and looking around, started 
down another path for more.



Buffy continued in the direction the man was running towards, curious 
what safety he had hoped to find ahead and sure she might find someone 
else.  The path led her to a parking lot, mostly empty.  She walked 
around the few old small cars that were scattered around the lot, 
looking inside the windows and waiting for someone to join her.  She 
found a newer car parked away from the others, a black Mustang, standing 
out and clearly boasting money.  Hearing footsteps, she watched as a man 
approached.  He looked sharp; short hair, dress shirt and slacks.  His 
age uncertain, she couldn't tell if he was a student or a teacher.  It 
was clear this was his car though, and he picked up his pace crossing 
the parking lot towards her. 



"Need a lift?"  He casually offered, his eyes traveling down over her 
tight shirt. 



"I need something."  Buffy flirted with him, leaning back on the hood of 
his car.



He grinned slightly, trying to act cool but unconsciously licking his 
lips.  "Well, maybe I can help.  Are you a student here?"



"No."  Buffy dragged the answer out, realizing he must be a teacher, or 
more likely, a teacher's aid.



"Good."  He stepped closer to Buffy.  "So, what do you need then?  Maybe 
a drink?  I know a place..."



Buffy smiled and stood up to meet him.  Standing very close, she reached 
up to the collar of his shirt.  "Your collar's crooked."  Buffy trailed 
her fingers over his collar to the top buttons and started to undo the 
first two, pulling the material away from his neck.



He reached up and stilled her hands.  "Hey, maybe we should go someplace."



"Why not here?"  Buffy countered.



He looked around the deserted lot.  "Someone could come by any minute."



"This won't take that long."  Buffy freed her hands from his and placed 
one at the back of his head, pulling him closer.  She held his eyes as 
he readied for a kiss and when he closed them in anticipation, she 
morphed, altered course, and sank her fangs into his neck.  She was 
prepared for his startled response, her other hand reached around his 
waist and held him firmly to her.  His hands beat uselessly against her, 
trying to push away as she let his blood pulse steadily into her mouth.  
And there it was, that heat, pumping and flowing into her, through her, 
filling her with the life force she remembered having, feeling human.  
Then she felt the man die, the flow slip away to a halt, and she 
returned to how she is, hardened and buzzed with the fresh kill.  She 
leaned his body against the hood of the car and checked his pockets.  
She found his wallet and removed the cash.  She found his keys, and 
opening the driver's side door, placed his body inside.  She noticed a 
pair of nice sunglasses on the dash and took them.  Shutting the door, 
she put the sunglasses on and wandered back to the courtyard.



Buffy found Willow seated on one of the benches surrounding the 
courtyard.  "Well, I feel... better."  Buffy stood in front of her 
friend, ran her hand through her hair and stretched.



"Good."  Willow smiled warmly up at her.



Buffy eyed her suspiciously.  "Will, you did hunt, didn't you?"



"Yes."  Willow confirmed exaggeratedly.  "I..."  She was about to brag 
about her hunt when Buffy cut her off.



"Good."  Buffy bounced a little on her feet.  "My first one, much too 
much thinking.  This last one, no thought at all."



Willow nodded her head, enjoying watching Buffy dance with excess 
energy, buzzed from the hunt, the kill.  She was reminded of the small 
slice of time when her friend allowed herself to accept the Slayer, felt 
entitled to it even.  Moments only through the years, and all before 
they pulled her back from her death and her peace.  Willow wondered that 
after all this, that feeling is what would be brought out in Buffy now.  
And she wondered if Buffy realized it.  Willow shook the thoughts from 
her head.  "Well, I'm still thinking enough for the three of us.  Not 
worrying."  Willow held up her hand to stop any of Buffy's protests.  
"Just thoughts.  For instance, what's with the sunglasses?"  She hoped 
to keep any conversation light, finding she was enjoying Buffy's mood.



Buffy shrugged.  "I liked them.  Can still see well enough."



"Well, did you see Xander?"  Willow asked.



"No, but..."  Buffy paused and looked towards the far end of the 
courtyard, nodding her head in that direction.





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Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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