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BLEACHed

See Me in Shadow

by 3D Master (3dmaster@telfort.nl) and Joshua the Evil Guy (Joshua@grandt.com)

website: http://3dmaster.1sweethost.com/

~~~~Part 1~~~~

It was but a short a while ago, that Xander and his two friends had no intention of going trick or treating this year – they were 16-year-olds after all.  Halloween parties and dances were a whole other matter of course.  Then, the obnoxious troll – as most Sunnydale High students thought of him – Principal Snyder had changed that, making them volunteer for chaperoning duties for a bunch of grade-schoolers.  Somehow, Xander figured, Snyder should really get a dictionary and look up the word ‘volunteer’.

As such, Xander, Buffy, and Willow were now – as planned ironically – looking for costumes for the big night.  They found a small new costume shop called “Ethan’s” and were now looking through it.  Having found his costume – a plastic gun – Xander walked over to Buffy and Willow who were looking at some type of gown.

“. . . I just want to remind Angel I can be every bit as classy as the ladies of his time, and never screw up a date, be poised, and feminine and sweet.  I can be sweet,” Xander heard Buffy say.  He rolled his eyes.  Dead Boy again.  He never had actually said the name to the vampire’s face – yet – but in his mind the walking corpse was someone that should go.

“What you guys looking at?” Xander butted in, and took in the gown.  He scrunched his face up, and said, “Frills, frills and more frills – I don’t see it. I’m a spandex man myself.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in spandex,” Buffy returned teasing, looking over her shoulder at Xander playfully.  Willow next to her frowned – she really wished she could come up with something like that and say it, and do it – hey, Buffy wasn’t flirting with the guy of her dreams, now was she?

“Har-de-har-har,” Xander said, not without humor.

“So, did you g-get something?” Willow quickly interjected, not being able to come up with something better.

Xander pulled up the plastic gun still wrapped in its plastic covering, stapled together via a colored cartoon depicting marketing sound images of cool soldiers awesomely killing people. “I’ve got some old, army fatigues at home, and you can call me the two-dollar-costume-king,” Xander said with a grin.  Willow and Buffy smiled at joke.  “So what did you get, Will?”

“Old trustee,” Willow said and raised her costume up – an old-fashioned ghost sheet.

“That’s great, Will,” Xander said, somehow managing to sound both enthusiastic and not about it.  “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Later,” Buffy greeted back, and Willow nodded, giving a nervous smile as Xander turned around and walked off.

He turned left at the first cross opening to go toward the cash register, and his eyes drifted to his right.  There, at the end of a lane of costume racks, was a round bin, in it stood all matter of accessories.  One being a katana – one that actually looked real at first glance.  When Xander pulled it out it was not so – it was just a really good finish.  A black plastic sheath, a colored handle and a golden, circular, metallic-looking guard, but once pulled closer it was obviously also plastic.  Xander blinked for a moment and looked at his yellow and pink gun, and then back at the much better-looking fake sword.  He tested it, and it freed itself from the sheath, the blade was equally plastic – a dull gray.  The shiny, metallic looking guard was made of a much harder plastic.  The blade was of a dull grey, soft material for safety reasons no doubt – and as a result it couldn’t look as good.  It still looked a thousand times better than the yellow and pink gun though.

Before Xander could stop himself, or think of something to go with the sword, he checked the price: fifteen bucks.  He grimaced.  He should really get a part time job somewhere. How Buffy could even think of a gown when she had none either, was beyond him.

“Ah, young man, found something to your fancy?” a British voice suddenly sounded. Xander jumped – for a moment there he envisioned Giles, berating him for partaking in such a inane and obviously American tradition.  Them British didn’t do such non-stiff-upper-lip things. “I am Ethan Rayne, proprietor of this humble establishment,” the very English, brown and silver-haired man introduced himself.

“Yeah, gun,” Xander said with a smile, and went to put the plastic sword back.

“I think you like the Samurai better,” Ethan said, tapping the sword and halting Xander’s downward motion with it.

Xander smiled ruefully, and answered, “Can’t afford it – not if I want something to drink later.”

“Ah, a man who can’t do without a lager, is a man after my own heart,” Ethan answered with a bright smile, as Xander frowned.  What had he just said?  Ethan took the gun from Xander and as he dropped into the bin with plastic bladed weapons – where it obviously didn’t belong – he said, “Plastic is plastic, don’t see a reason it should cost more.”

Meanwhile Xander was rushing through options of a costume that could work with a katana.  He had nothing at home that could look Japanese enough . . . unless . . . if he spray-painted the fatigues black, and put something over it to camouflage the most blatant parts that said – ‘I am fatigues’ – he might just be able to work it.  Xander deflated – where the hell did he get the money for black spray paint?

“Is something wrong, young man?” Ethan asked him, as he gestured toward the register.

“Don’t have a costume to go with it,” Xander muttered disappointed.  “Unless . . .” his traitorous mouth had spoken the word without his consent!

“Unless what?” Ethan prompted.

Xander gave him a pathetic look, and said, “Can I borrow a can of black spray paint?”

Ethan grinned.  He didn’t know what the boy had planned, but it could work out.  Plenty of kids had already bought guns – no one had gotten a katana though.  Best to mix things up for maximum chaos, after all.  “I can’t give it for free of course, but I think I let the whole package go for four dollars,” he prompted.

“You got a deal!” Xander all but exclaimed with a grin, and followed Ethan to the cash register, the English owner taking a can of spray paint off a rack along the way.

*****

Meanwhile, back at the gown, Buffy had decided to intervene.  “Will, you gotta lose the ghost,” Buffy said with authority.

“But it’s a classic,” Willow protested feebly, and felt Buffy take a hold of her shoulders, and turn her around.

“Willow, it’s a sheet, you’ll be gone from the world,” Buffy said as she gently guided Willow to some more appropriate clothing in her mind – most notably exotic, and short skirts, tops, and more of those things.  “If you want to dazzle Xander, you gotta stop hiding. You gotta step boldly up to the world,” Buffy frowned at her words, and corrected, “or at least Xander, and shake him through, and say, ‘Here I am, I’m a hottie, you’re a hottie, I like you, let’s go out on a date.’  And the best way to do that is being half-naked and smoking hot.”

“Half-naked?” Willow asked insecurely, turning her upper body around to look at her friend with an uncertain and fearful look.

“Mini-skirts, leather mini-skirts,” Buffy announced and Willow seemed even less convinced.  “Trust me, Willow.  It’s Halloween, it’s the one time in the world you can be anything you want to be, anything you normally are not, without having to fear any repercussions.  It’s just a costume, after all.  So stop hiding, and show yourself.”

Not long after they had found Willow a costume, and the two friends slowly walked back toward the gown, Willow still uncertain about the daring costume she held in her hands.  Buffy looked once more wistfully at the gown.  “Do you think I should do it?  It’s awfully expensive,” Buffy asked, fishing for the ‘yes’ that would finally push her over her doubt.

“Uh, no,” Willow answered and Buffy turned around surprised, and a little hurt.

“No?” Buffy asked her.

“You want to impress, Angel, right?” Willow asked and Buffy nodded.  “Angel doesn’t seem to have been noble born, you know.  Back then, maybe even now, he wouldn’t be allowed in a mile radius of a noble girl.  Besides, he spent a lot more time as . . . ‘grr’ . . . in those times, than as a human.  Don’t you think something like that, would remind him of all the women in those dresses his demon spent torturing and killing?  Not very romantic.”

Buffy’s eyes went a little wide, and turned back to the gown.  It was beautiful, still . . . “You’re right,” Buffy said softly and a little disappointed.  She would probably look amazing in that dress – and prove Xander wrong with his ‘spandex’.

“Have the ladies made a choice?”  It was Ethan, the shop keeper, and Willow and Buffy turned lightly towards him at his approach.  “Oh, my,” Ethan said, looking at the 18^th century gown, “that would look stunning on you, my dear. Very good choice.”

“Ah, no,” Buffy said, feeling a little embarrassed, “I just realized I need something else.” Willow nodded shyly at the Englishman.

“Take all the time you need, my dears,” Ethan said and took the right hand of both girls, gallantly placing a kiss on the back of their hands – first Buffy, and then Willow, making both girls blush, but especially Willow.  He smiled, and as he left he said, “If you need any assistance, do call – I’ll be at the cash register, waiting patiently.”

“Thank you,” Buffy said, and slowly felt the heat from her cheeks recede, annoyed with herself for the reaction.  “So what do /you/ think I should wear?”

“Well . . .” Willow guiltily suggested, “why not go with what Xander said?  Something in spandex?”

“Ugh,” the blonde frowned at her friend, “and give hard-ons to every perverted freak out on the streets, not to mention at our school?  Pass.  Hey, what was Xander looking at over there anyway?” she pointed towards the swords bin, “Maybe I’ll go as G.I. Jane or something.”

“Yeah,” Willow tried to laugh along with the perceived joke, but it trailed off before it could even begin and Buffy didn’t even notice as she was already walking away.

“Hey, cool!  Swords.  Giles tried to teach me fencing, but when I kept slapping him on the butt with the flat of the blade he cut the lessons short,” she shared with her red-haired friend.

“Yeah . . .” Willow trailed off as an idea suddenly struck her.  “Hey!  Hey, hey, hey, HEY!” she excitedly started tapping Buffy’s arm to get her attention.

“Willow!” the Slayer snapped, “No more mochas for you if you don’t cut that out.  Now what is it?  Geez, I think I’m going to bruise . . .”

“You could go as the Highlander!”

“Huh?” Buffy was lost all of a sudden.

“Well, maybe not /the/ Highlander, but as somebody from the TV show . . . like . . . Oh! Amanda, you could go as Amanda!” Willow was really excited now.

“And again with the, huh?” the blonde repeated.

“It’s a show on TV, based off a few movies from the 80’s, called “Highlander”.  It’s about this one warrior that is over 400 years old, he’s Immortal, except when another Immortal cuts off his head and then the power of the defeated Immortal is given to the winner by something called the Quickening, which is really cool special effects that make it look like lightning and explosions and whatnot.  Anyway, one of the characters they introduced on the TV show was Amanda, an Immortal who’s over 1000 years old but she still looks like she’s twenty-something, oh!  And she’s a professional thief!”

“And I would want to dress up as an immortal thief . . . why?” Buffy’s confused expression remained.

“You said it yourself Buffy, Halloween is about coming as who you aren’t!” Willow turned the Slayer’s own words against her.  “You being a superhero normally, and being an immortal thief, a woman with very few morals, for a night is as opposite as you can get without going completely evil!  Not to mention you’d get to pretend for a night that you and Angel really could live together forever for the rest of eternity.”

That was what cinched it for Buffy, though Willow continued her arguments for several more minutes, all it really took was mentioning fantasy material with Angel and she was hooked, lined, and sunk.  They wound up buying a slim hard-plastic short sword and a black short trench coat from the Noir movie section.

After they left the costume shop, with their loot, Willow told Buffy, “We should stop along at my place first.”

“Why?”

“To get a tape of an episode with Amanda in it, then you have an idea how she behaves, moves, and talks, you know, so you can act like her now and then?  She can wrap men around her finger just as easily as we walk, might wanna try it out on Angel,” Willow told Buffy conspiratorially, and Buffy eagerly nodded.

Buffy then frowned, and asked, “You got the show taped?”

“Uh, well,” Willow stammered lightly, and then said, “It’s good, and it’s kinda like our life, with all the supernatural, and uhm . . .”

“Spill, Will,” Buffy demanded.

Willow grinned cheekily as the two friends walked down the sidewalk.  Blushing, she admitted, “The main character is really hot.”

“Ooh, wanna see that,” Buffy said, then the two giggled together.

*****

Meanwhile, Xander was making his own preparations for Halloween.  He had taken the fatigues and placed them on an old cardboard plate in the garage.  Thus having made sure he wouldn’t ruin anything, he spray painted the fatigues totally black.  Then he left it to dry and went back into the house.  He walked through the hallway and reached the stairs up to his room.  He could see through a door into the living room, where his mother had fallen asleep at the table.  He ignored her and walked up the stairs.  His father wasn’t home yet from work – which was good, not getting on the bad side of one drunk was a full time job, he really wasn’t in the mood to manage that with two, and with the fatigues he’d left back in the garage, it was going to be even more difficult.

Swiftly but silently he went up the stairs.  He had to find something to cover the most obvious features of the fatigues . . .

*****

The keys unlocked the door smoothly, and it opened.  “Your mom and dad not home?” Buffy asked, as she and Willow entered Willow’s home.

“Nah,” Willow replied as she closed the door behind them.  “They went to some convention, each a different one.”

“Oh,” Buffy answered and took the time to really look around.  She had been here a few times now and Buffy didn’t want to seem like she was snooping around, but either Willow’s parents were gone, or it was late at night, and it was either straight up to Willow’s room – or to Willow’s room through the French door windows.  The walls of the wide hallway were painted green, and a coat hanger was mounted left on the wall.  Stairs going up were to the right.  Two doors were in the hallway, one straight at the end, and one just before on the end on the right. The right side of the hallway, in front of the stairs was open and showed the living room.  It was reasonably big, and had a mixture of light green and blue hues, among some brown wood.  A TV was in the far right front corner, with next to it lining the wall cupboard that held books, some closed compartments and video tapes.  Two couches and a table were in front of the TV.

“Come on,” Willow said, beckoning Buffy over and they entered the living room, revealing the rest of it, which stretched to the other side of the house.  A high table with chairs was in the back, as well as two more cupboards.  An ironing table with iron and a completed set of laundry in a big basket stood in the middle of the living room, one piece of garment lying on it, but the girls didn’t pay attention to that.

With the curtains closed, the two teens maneuvered around the furniture, and Willow went all the way to the cupboard.  “You can sit,” Willow suggested to Buffy and the blonde found herself a position on the couch.  Meanwhile Willow started pulling out video tapes to check on them.  With every wrong tape, Willow would say, ‘no’, until she finally said, slightly triumphantly, “Yes.”  Willow turned around and presented the tape to Buffy, having some stuff written on the stickers which had helped Willow identify the right tape.  “This has an episode with Amanda on it,” Willow said, and quickly went to the TV and its stand.  She turned on the TV and VCR and then put the tape in.

Willow turned the VCR on as she walked over and sat down as well.  The Highlander show was visible a moment later.  Willow fast forwarded past the teaser and the opening credits and put it on normal speed; one Duncan MacLeod was doing exercises in his dojo – wearing nothing but a pair of white gi pants – his chest bare for all to see, and girls to drool over.  His long wavy hair done in a pony tail smoothly falling down over his back.

“Wow,” Buffy muttered, taking in the sight.

“Yeah, Duncan MacLeod, just say that name, Buffy, Duncan,” Willow said with a grin, “A body to drool over, and a name that sends shivers down your spine.”

“He’s . . . he might be hotter than Angel,” Buffy exclaimed in a breathless voice that showed her heart had starting beating a little faster.

Willow turned her head to Buffy, and baffled, asked, “Might be?  Face it, Buffy, Duncan MacLeod, aka Adrian Paul, leaves Angel in the dust!  Uh . . . no pun intended.  He’s a thousand times hotter than Angel!”

Buffy nodded lightly, and then said, “Why didn’t I know about this show!?”

“Anti-geek prejudice?” Willow offered slyly.  Buffy turned her head to face Willow annoyed.  “Hey, you said you were a Cordelia-clone back in LA . . . Uh, I can lend you my collection, starting with season one?”

“Great!” Buffy said with a smile.

Willow nodded and quickly stopped the tape, then pushed the fast forward button to speed the tape along to find the episode with Amanda in it.  Buffy quickly grew bored with Willow stopping the tape, checking where it was for a moment, and then stopping playback and going back to fast forward again.  So the Slayer laid her arm on the couch back rest and casually looked around some.  Soon she was looking behind her, and focusing on the ironing table holding the last finished garment.  Buffy looked again, was she really seeing what she was seeing?  Buffy still couldn’t believe it, but grinned.

“Willow!” Buffy exclaimed with mock outrage, as she grasped for the garment.  It and the ironing table it was laying on, was just about out of reach, so she had to try twice more before she managed to grab it and pull it over between her and Willow.  “You’ve been holding out on me!”

Willow was looking over, and looking directly at the piece of clothing her best friend was holding up by the collar and shoulder pieces – being sleeveless.  She knew it well, oh, how she knew it well, and wished she had never seen it, and never knew about it.  The clothing, a half-body leotard type, was a darker color gray.  The bathing suit not made for bathing closed around the neck in a tight embrace leaving the arms bare, but that was hardly the bad thing.  The crotch area was quite high cut, narrowing down between where the legs would be, until it finally would be nothing but a thong going back up between the buttocks.  Suffice to say, Willow was beet red instantly, and stammered out, “Th-that’s not mine.”  Willow felt no need to clarify beyond that, and focused all her attention back on the TV, determined not to look back at the flimsy piece of clothing again, until well after Buffy had returned it, they had left the house, and she’d returned much, much later.

“You certain?” Buffy frowned, not quite able to keep the grin off her face as she did so.

“I-it’s my mom’s,” Willow answered, continuing her search for the Amanda episode, with her gaze fixed on the TV.  Buffy studied the article of clothing.  The body was awfully small- . . . wait a minute!  No one would wear this underneath their normal clothing, would day? A less naked version perhaps, but most certainly not Willow’s mother!  She had met her once – not exactly the “Let’s make every man in a one-mile radius stare with my sexed-up look”-type. In fact she had seemed more like an icicle – utterly cool, if not cold.

“Oh, my god!  You walked in on your mom and dad . . .” Buffy trailed off, leaving the horror of horrors unsaid.  It was enough to break Willow out of her concentration though, and snapped her head back at Buffy – then immediately back at the TV, as the bane of her existence, actually one of several banes of her existence, was still held up between her and Buffy.  “Oh, you poor girl,” Buffy said, and immediately went over to hug Willow.

“Buffy!” Willow whined, and Buffy quickly backed off, realizing she was still holding Willow’s mother sex-clothes.

“Sorry,” Buffy said, putting the body back up in the air again.  “Are you certain?  It’s small.”  Very small in fact.  Buffy’s critical eye tested the body, and figured it was about right to fit her skin tightly.  Willow’s mom was taller than Willow, and Willow was taller than her, than a body this small would . . .

“They like k-k-kinky,” Willow muttered ashamed, her head fiery again, still looking for the episode.

. . . hurt and chafe like hell, Buffy finished her thought, and swallowed.  Kinky indeed!

.

.

.

“You walked in on your mom and dad having kinky sex!” Buffy blurted out as the sudden realization hit her!

“Don’t say it!  It’s bad enough as it is!” Willow exclaimed back, then pointed at the TV. “I found the episode anyway!”

Buffy crumpled the body downward, and looked at the TV.  On it, visibly and audibly, a brunette walked like she was sex personified.  Put her finger on the chest of a young man with red hair in curls.  He practically started hyperventilating as Amanda played with him like a cat did with a mouse – having him excited, aroused, and confused in no time, while she fired off a barrage of questions while he was completely distracted by nothing but a finger, and an undulating body.

“That’s Amanda?” Buffy asked, lightly jealous as the young man obviously answered a question he shouldn’t have, Amanda turned around and walked off like it didn’t matter and she had just flipped a switch.  “Whoa!”

“Yeah, I wish I could do that too,” Willow agreed wistfully, envisioning herself seducing Xander like that.  Maybe this costume Buffy helped pick for her wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Rewind,” Buffy said, and got up, leaving the body carelessly on the couch.  Willow did her duty, and ran the tape once again,  Buffy started mimicking Amanda’s motions.  Willow watched Buffy go through the moves.  “I could do this for a night.  One more time,” Buffy said again, and looked at the TV, ready to rehearse one more time.  Willow again rewound the tape, and as Buffy was half-way imitating the seduction scene, she suddenly stopped and looked better at Amanda and what she was wearing.  Buffy quickly stepped to the couch and took the body, holding it up.  On the screen Amanda was wearing about the same thing above her pants – it was completely black, instead of almost-black gray, and probably was a shirt, not a body – probably – but other than that it was an equally tight top that strained around the Immortal woman’s ample chest.  Then it went off screen as Amanda turned around and sashayed with swaying hips and backside off the screen.

Buffy looked at the body, and then thought of her sashaying up to Angel in it and the rest of the outfit.  A little fake sword to the neck kink – appropriate – while she rode her body up against his . . . Cordelia’d be /soo/ out of the picture.  Buffy gave Willow a smiling look, holding up the body.  “What?” Willow asked confused, and then the color started draining from her face. “Buffy?  What are you thinking?  You can’t be thinking what I think your thinking?  Because that’d be just . . . wrong thinking?”

“Why not?  It’s pretty much what Amanda is wearing,” Buffy grinned evilly at Willow.

“Buffy!  I’d be scarred for life!  My best friend wearing my mom’s kinky sex clothes that I was a witness too!  I’d have three therapy sessions a week instead of one!” Willow said half-joking.

“Hey, if you’re going to therapy already . . .” Buffy nonchalantly mock shrugged.

“Buffy Summers,” Willow said solemnly, apprehension, horror – a lot less than she thought there’d be – and thus hope she wouldn’t be scarred for life after all, coursing through her body, “you are an /evil/ woman.”

Buffy’s grin widened, and grew more evil.  “Hey, maybe your mom’s kinkiness can rub off on me for a night, so I can /really/ show Angel,” she teased.

“AARGH!” Willow screamed, grabbing her head as she jumped up from the couch.  She started running around, holding her head, yelling, “It burns!  Give some metal wire so I can yank my brain out through my nose!  It burns!  It burns!”  Buffy was in a full on giggle fit by now, and let herself fall in the second couch.  “Yeah, you can laugh!  This is not funny, Buffy.”  Buffy just smirked at that, before going back to giggling.  “You are truly evil!”

Buffy forced herself out of her laughter, and said, “Ah, come on, Will.  It’s washed and ironed.”

“Xander’s right, Angel is bad for you.  Some of his demonic evil must be seeping out and settling in you,” Willow said sagely.

“Now, who’s evil,” Buffy said, but still smiling.  She got up, and said, “Come on, turn off the TV.  We still gotta get to my house and get ready.  And we need a bag for this.”

“You really going to do it?” Willow said with a sad, disbelieving face.

“Well, yeah, unless you say I can’t of course.  I promise your mom will never find out.  I can borrow this, right?” Buffy said, finishing with puppy-dog eyes.  Willow started to think she knew how Xander felt whenever she, Buffy, or other girls, had turned those on him.

*****

Xander was rummaging through his small room, and had yet to find something for his final dilemma to his costume.  How to cover up . . .

Ooh!  Idea!  He walked out of his room, and turned right along the bare minimum upper hallway.  He entered a door to the left, and looked inside.  It was his mother’s sewing room, filled with pieces of cloth, old sheets, a sewing machine, other things like that.  And the best of all, he hadn’t seen his mom go in here in ages.  Which meant that if he took anything she’d probably never miss it.  He looked around, and finally settled on a white sheet hanging from a hook in a corner.  It wasn’t perfectly clean, somewhat dirty, and was a broken white, possibly due to accumulated dirt.  Inspiration hit, big dirty sheets were just perfect!  Xander took the sheet down.  Then he grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut two holes in the sheet.  He put his arms through, and bent down.  Finding the right length he made a cut, and then did the same on the side of him.  Then he pulled the sheet out of the room, and laying it down he cut a reasonably straight line from one cut to the other.  Then he cut off a side strip that was too long.

Satisfied he put the sheet back on, and it worked pretty well, apart from two things.  The first were the points now flopping about half in front of his chin.  The scissors came back into play and he cut the points off in a large curve.  That left the final thing – the sheet was falling open, which meant not much covering up.  He took one of the pieces he had cut off, and from that, cut a narrow belt.  Now he could pull the sheet closed and tie it off with the belt.  He checked his makeshift covering out, and was sure it would cover up the key-parts of fatigues well enough.  All he had to do now, was put the scissors and the leftover pieces of sheet back in the sowing room, get his hopefully dry, black-painted fatigues, and put them and his plastic katana on.  Then he could go to Buffy dressed as a traveling samurai – a ronin.

*****

Buffy’s bedroom

“You look hot!” Buffy said with a grin, peering over Willow’s shoulder into the mirror.  The redhead gulped as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“I-I’m not sure,” Willow said weakly.  This couldn’t be looking good on her – this had to look ridiculous.  She wasn’t ‘hot’ material – she was a geek, a nerd – and they weren’t hot.

“Trust me, after today, you’ll need to beat guys off of you with a stick,” Buffy enthused with a big grin, herself already in costume, minus a wig and the short coat.  A short leather skirt she had found she was wearing over the body.  A pair of short boots with high heels on her feet. The body was riding up the cleft up her ass, as small at it was, but today it made her feel sexy and powerful instead of uncomfortable.  At Willow’s pout, Buffy amended, “Actually, you won’t have to, because Xander will be the one doing it for you, not using a stick.  He’ll be drooling all over you, and just a little wink with your finger will make him yours.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Willow muttered still uncertain.

“Nope, I’m telling the truth.  Girl scout’s honor,” Buffy said, raising her right index- and middle finger to show her honor.

“You were a girl scout?” Willow asked a little surprised.

Buffy blinked, her hand slowly came down again, and she answered, “Well, no, but it’s still the truth.”

Willow looked back at herself in the mirror.  Black latex boots with high heels went all the way up to her thighs, a gold band at the top.  The latex gloves on hands had the same golden band trim at top.  The coup de gras was a black latex body, that had the same golden trim around the edges that ran around her hips and ass, another golden band in the middle of her upper arms, and a strip that ran up from that over the shoulders to the collar, which was also golden.  A zipper ran from that to in the middle of her breasts, which were pushed up by the latex body, the support strips underneath them also made of the golden color.  The body was all but a corset around her middle, accentuating her own curves, additionally accentuated by a silver belt.  The body wasn’t completely even, having several lanes of latex popping out – some part of the corset function, but all accentuating feminine curves.  Underneath it, she wore a cloth, broken-white, somewhat skin-tone full body suit, which kept the latex off of her skin – thus not needing powder – as well as allowing the skin to breath for more comfort.  Her red hair, which Buffy had put upward to give more volume and still hung low enough to hang around her face and to her shoulders, gave a magnificent contrast with the black and gold.  It made her look both strong and capable, as well as young, playful and sexy.

In short, she looked like a female Star Trek captain from the original series – if the female uniform was a latex fetish wet dream that made the original mini-skirt uniform look like something a nun would wear.

Willow swallowed, wondering how Buffy had managed to convince her of this, remembering the event in the costume shop.

~~O~~

“Mini-skirts, leather mini-skirts,” Buffy announced and Willow seemed even less convinced. “Trust me, Willow.  It’s Halloween, it’s the one time in the world you can be anything you want to be, anything you normally are not, without having to fear any repercussions.  It’s just a costume, after all.  So stop hiding, and show yourself off.”  Buffy gently pushed Willow in front of her into the direction of the type of costumes she had in mind.  The two stopped and looked around the new section of the costume shop.  It was filled with super heroine costumes, and similar attire – all tight, all revealing, and all somewhat leather, latex, or spandex.  A little onward, the costumes changed from the tight and sexy back to more frilly stuff, but this is where they had to be.

Both girls’ eyes widened, Willow’s with apprehension, and Buffy’s with excitement, especially when she saw what she had envisioned.  She reached for what her eyes had seen, and pulled the clothes hanger with the costume on it off of the rack.  “Look,” Buffy said, and presented it to Willow.  It was a short blue tank top, and an even shorter, equally blue, leather miniskirt.  A pair of thigh high blue boots were standing underneath where the costume had been hanging.

“I’m not dressing up as a hooker!” Willow exclaimed, and then quickly hushed down, looking around if someone had heard her outburst, blushing.

“It’ll be fun, it’s a costume!” Buffy exclaimed, examining the costume from all sides. Damn, these were some good, and realistic looking costumes.

“I am /not/ dressing up as a hooker,” Willow repeated, this time quieter and with clear finality.

Buffy sighed and as she went to hang the costume, and said, “Okay, fine, no hooker.” The blonde Slayer continued.  “So what else do we have to work with?  What would Xander really notice?  Besides just ‘spandex’?”

“I’m not dressing up as an Orion slave girl either!” Willow said hurriedly – having had visions of the things Xander might like ever since Buffy dragged her into this, and a little perturbed she was starting to feel good about this – just not certain things.

“A what?  What the heck is an Orion slave girl?” Buffy asked her friend.

“Oh,” Willow squeaked, now thoroughly embarrassed.  “Uh, it’s something from the Original Star Trek series, and I’m not telling you any more.”

“Star Trek, huh?” Buffy got a mischievous and evil look in her eyes.  Willow swallowed nervously, as she watched Buffy’s keen fashion eyes look across the different costumes.  Willow couldn’t see much beyond a row of meaningless side sections of clothes, only able to distinguish clothes from each other and what they were by going up close and concentrate.  Buffy seemed to have no such trouble.  The gleam in Buffy’s eyes intensified and Willow felt herself getting pulled toward whatever Buffy had seen.

Having reached the destination, Willow looked and saw several black costumes with different colors on it – purple, dark green, and gold.  Buffy instantly took the color that would fit Willow’s red hair best – dark green – and yanked it out.  It was a body, latex from what Willow could make out, a skin-tone broken white body suit from a more manageable material folded out from within it.  “Does this look Star-Trek-uniformy enough?” Buffy asked, smiling broadly. The green trimming, under the breasts, middle of the arms and up it into the collar and finally around the edge that would go around the hips and buttocks, along with several patches made it look quite a bit like a uniform.

Willow gave a short squeak and peeped out, “A fetish, porn version of Star Trek perhaps.”  To Willow’s shock, Buffy’s smile and the evil gleam only grew as she nodded.  “You can’t be serious!”

“Come on, Will, think about it.  It’s like super heroine spandex, but it’s a space, sci-fi babe uniform, and on top of that, it will make you look strong, competent, and in charge – like a . . . captain, or commander, or whatever the big boss is called – like; me, a little . . .” Buffy gave Willow a pointed look – after all, it was no secret that Xander had the hots for her, “. . . and on top of that, you get to look blisteringly hot!  Perfect for any girl wanting to seduce one Xander Harris!”

“I-I don’t wanna-” Willow started to protest nervously.  Seducing?  No.  Getting swept of her feet by him?  Hell, yes.

Buffy interrupted her though, and said somewhat disappointed, “Willow, of course you do.  You’ve only been obsessing about him forever, not to mention fenced him off from me, the day I arrived.”

Willow hesitated, and internal battle raging inside her.  On the one hand: EEP!  On the other: Xander.  Suddenly she said, “Star Trek doesn’t have dark green and purple.  Gold is the original series captain’s color though.”

Buffy’s grin was back full burn instantly, while Willow wondered why the hell she had said that.  Buffy hung the dark green back, and pulled out a gold version, saying, “Gold it is! Now we’ve got to do a big linky!”

“Linky?” Willow asked confused, and a pair of boots was thrust in her hands, and then she was yanked along.

“Link the porn to the real deal,” Buffy muttered, as she and Willow walked onward, making the latter swallow.  A moment later Buffy had found the gun department, and quickly identified more expansive looking ones than simple even-colored plastic, and one tray in particular was easily identified as the wrapping contained the words ‘Star Trek’.  Buffy pulled the more dangerous looking of the weapon variants – the original series pistol out of one tray – and then found a tray next to it with something called tricorders.  Correctly deducing they were some type of scanning and recording devices she examined the variants there for a moment, and then pulled a smooth silver one out.

“They’re from different centuries,” Willow protested a little at the miss match.

As Buffy pulled Willow back towards the costumes – she still need her own one, and that dress kept looking better by the minute – Buffy said, “Doesn’t matter.  We’re not going to diminish your sexiness by having you carry around something that looks like a stuffy, old lady’s handbag.”

~~O~~

And so, Space Babe Captain Willow Rosenberg had come to be.  She still looked at herself, growing more nervous by the moment.  This was ridiculous.  She couldn’t possibly look good right now, not to mention this was embarrassing.  There was knocking at the door down below.

“That’s got to be Xander,” Buffy said, and turned to her bed to grab the short coat off of it, along with the sword.  As she put the coat on, she said, “Go get the props, and then you’re ready to go.”  Buffy slowly walked out of her room, putting the sword on her at the same time.

When Buffy was gone, Willow swallowed and turned around to the bed.  She grabbed the phaser and the tricorder and put them in the holders hanging from the silver belt.  Then her eye caught the ghost costume – still in its plastic – lying on the floor next to the belt, sticking out of the plastic bag that the shop owner had put all her purchases in.  She had completely forgotten to put it back in the shop in all the excitement of her new costume and convincing Buffy to go with something less girly, and so had bought it along with her new costume.

Willow turned around and looked back at her reflection, then back down at the ghost sheet.

*****

Xander grinned as he walked up to the Summers front door, feeling oddly confident in his black and white over robe samurai costume.  Quite frankly he thought it was inspired in what he managed to cobble together along with the sword and the black paint he’d bought from the store. It was actually an old sheet from his mother’s sewing room with some strategic holes cut in it. On a whim he’d used the paint to put a black number nine on the back, only to discover when he actually put it on that it wound up being a six instead.

He had wanted to reference the movie “The Nine Ronin”, a really cool Japanese Samurai flick he’d seen a while back, and that way he could also be the last of the nine, who was the strongest.  It had been too late to do anything about it though, and he didn’t want to risk stealing another white sheet from his mother’s sewing room.

Catching his reflection in the window as he stepped up to the door, he had to admit he looked good.  The black samurai robe cinched tight, the white over robe hanging open and loose, and his samurai sword tied at his waist, making him look even more real than any of the other parts.  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if something was missing.

He shrugged it off and knocked on the door to announce his arrival.  A few seconds later, when he detected nobody coming to answer the door, he rang the doorbell instead.  Moments later, he could hear somebody coming down the stairs, but it was impossible to see who through the door-windows.

He got his answer very shortly as the door was very slowly, and in hindsight, sexily opened to reveal a wet dream come true.

Buffy Summers in nothing but an overcoat.  A very short overcoat, showcasing a /lot/ of leg.  At least it looked like she was wearing nothing but an overcoat, a pair of high heels that made her taller than normal and then the way she draped herself in the door way like the frame of a masterpiece portrait.

“If I’m dreaming, I /so/ do not want to wake up,” he muttered under his breath.

“Darling,” Buffy drawled in a faux-European accent, “So glad you could make it, and so ravishing as well that one could eat you right up.  /Entre Vous mon Chevalier/.”

She then stepped back and opened the door further, while at the same time undoing the overcoat and allowing it to slip open, revealing a skin-tight gray-black top and a dangerously small mini-skirt that sat low on the hips and was cut even with the bottom of her waist.  The ankle-high four-inch black pumps arched her legs, making them more defined in their stance and added to her height enough that she could actually pass for Amanda’s height from the show.  He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed, relieved, or twice as turned on as before that she wasn’t naked under the black overcoat.  She /was/ still showcasing a /lot/ of leg . . .

After stepping in and having the door closed, seductively he might add, behind him Xander weakly asked to clarify, “Is... is that spandex?”

“Better: leather,” Buffy just grinned at him and then, as he watched, pulled on a brunette wig and strapped the costume sword to the inside of the coat, not to where it could be easily noticed, but where it was still in easy reach.  Without saying a word, she walked back over to him like a model on a runway, or a seductress on the prowl, or . . .

“You’re Amanda, from the Highlander TV series,” it finally clicked for him.

“A pleasure, darling,” she drawled out in that fake accent again.

“You don’t have to ham it up that much, Buff,” he assured her.

“Oh but it’s so much fun,” she immediately switched back to a 16-year-old blonde Californian.  “And did you see the look on your face?  I wish I had a camera.”

“Sorry, I missed it,” he sarcastically retorted.

“Looking good, Xander.  Samurai right?”

“What was your first guess?” he remarked with a grin.

“There’s something missing though.  I mean you do look good and all, but for the most part you look like Xander in robes carrying a sword.  There must be something . . .” she tapped her finger on her chin as she stared at him, then held up her finger as the proverbial light bulb went off over her head, “Oh!  I know.”

She quickly went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.  “Here we go.”

“Huh?” he wondered what she was up to.

Rather than answer, she went ahead and dipped her hand into the glass and then raised it dripping onto his head.  She did this a few more times until his hair was completely soaked. Once that was to her satisfaction, Buffy reached up and began to slick back his hair, little by little until it was almost pasted to his head, the locks of black hair flowing back to give him a more distinguished, cultured appearance, and it did make him look more like a samurai rather than just himself wearing robes.

“What happened to impressing Dead Boy by dressing up as a noblewoman?” he asked while she did this.  She stopped long enough to answer and he took another look in the mirror as he listened to her.

“Willow talked me around to something better.  Plus,” she added with an evil grin as she noticed a flicker of movement at the top of the stairs, “I needed something to compete with her costume.  You’ll see what I mean when you see her . . .” Buffy trailed off her explanation when she looked up and saw a full-body, to-the-floor, white sheet stepping down the stairs, which incidentally had a printed ‘BOO!’ on the front of it, “. . . Boo.”

“Oh.  Yeah,” Xander acknowledged but was at a complete loss for what Buffy meant and was kinda disappointed himself, seeing Willow like this once more, especially after /Buffy/!

The three stood there in the foyer for a few moments, the two original-costume wearers staring at their generic ghost companion with disappointed stares.  The tension in the room skyrocketed, almost to the point where Willow thought of tearing her outer costume off as some kind of dramatic unveiling before her schoolgirl crush.  /Almost/.

As it was, they just stood there for another few seconds before Xander exclaimed, “OK then, shall we go?”  And they left.

*****

Sunnydale High

The way over from school had been rather uneventful, but Xander didn’t have enough luck that it remained that way.  Just as the three of them reached Sunnydale High, one particular student, dressed as a pirate, came barreling out of the school with some of his minions in tow.  The pirate collided with Xander, and as Xander still reeled from the impact, the pirate said, “Harris, watch where you’re going!”

“Me!?  Larry . . .” Xander tried to protest, but Larry was already moving past the three friends, pushing Xander aside forcing him to walk backward into Buffy, who easily steadied him.

Larry faltered a moment, and looked to Xander being steadied by Buffy to his right and back, and turned around.  Walking backward he looked to the ghost on his previous left, and said, “Yo, Rosenberg, nice ‘boo’ you got there.  Don’t let it scare you.”  The jock laughed and turned back around, and he and his friends left the three behind.

Willow had her head down, as the three reunited, and Xander and Buffy looked after the jocks.  “One of these days,” Xander whispered with some anger, still hating the fact that Buffy had saved him from the jock the day before.

“Yeah, karma will have a field day with him.  Just let it go, okay, Xand?” Buffy said, looking over at Willow, and gave an internal sigh.  If Willow hadn’t hidden beneath the sheet, Larry and his cronies would have been flat on their backs in amazement, worship and drool instead of teasing her more.  She had to try and convince Willow to get rid of the sheet; but if she didn’t want to embarrass her more, she would need to get rid of Xander temporarily first. How to go about doing that?

The three turned around and walked in the doors of the school.  Buffy was surprised that there were still so many students around.  They seemed to have made the school the place to gather, even if they weren’t forced into volunteering to chaperone some kids for trick-or-treating. Back in LA, the school had been the last place to gather, but she supposed there weren’t much places in Sunnydale to join up.  Several more dressed up students walked past them, leaving them behind.  Others were heading toward the student lounge as well – no doubt more ‘volunteers’.  All of them were dressed up in various outfits, apart from one guy who Xander’s eye locked onto.  The short-statured guy with dark hair was at his locker and was seemingly wearing his regular clothes.  That was until he locked the locker and turned around, showing he was wearing a tag on his shirt that read ‘God’.  Xander groaned inwardly – that was so cool, he wished he had thought of that.

While Buffy was furiously thinking of a way to be alone with Willow, and was about to resort to the cliché and classic, and in her mind far too obvious ‘I need to go to the girl’s room, could you come with me’, Willow was looking around nervously.  She was hoping the thin sheet wasn’t as see-through as it felt.  The only thing worse than to be seen in that outfit, would be to be seen in that outfit while wearing a sheet that told everyone she’d chickened out.

“Hey, loser!  Watch where you’re going!” the shrill voice unmistakably from Cordelia came from up ahead.  She was wearing a slutty cat costume.  With her Cordettes around her, she pushed the ‘loser’ aside and walked onward toward Xander, Buffy and Willow, with the destination being the exit.  “God,” she said out loud for all to hear, “I’m surrounded by fashion idiots!  It’s Halloween, and they still can’t come up with anything that looks even remotely good.”  The head cheerleader slowed down as she just passed the Scoobies, looked at the guy’s tag, rolled her eyes, and steamed past everyone to the exit.

Unseen by Xander, Willow shrank down a little at Cordelia’s comment – even if it wasn’t directed at her.  Buffy looked concerned at Willow and became even more determined to get Willow out of her closet.  What was underneath that sheet would change her friend instantly – for the better.  She was about to go with old trustee after all, when Xander had made up his mind.  If Cordelia hated it, it was too good to pass up.  “Hey, guys, I forgot something.  You guys go on to the kids, I’ll be right there, okay?” Xander said, and quickly left his two friends behind him.

*Great!* Buffy thought, as she watched Xander disappear around a corner.  She went closer to a forlorn Willow and put her arm around her friend’s ghostly waist, pulling her along. “Will, you gotta lose the sheet.  You can’t keep hiding all your life.”

Willow, underneath the sheet, felt annoyed.  Part of her wished she hadn’t put on the sheet, but a much larger part of her couldn’t think of doing anything else.  “Buffy,” Willow started softly, “I’m not like you.  I can’t wear that; I’d look ridiculous.”

The two walked onward, and Buffy tried again, “You don’t, Will.  Trust me, you’d look amazing.”

“I’m not as courageous as you, okay?  Could you please drop it?  I just want to get this over with,” Willow muttered under her breath, the two of them walking onward to the gray halls.

Buffy sighed, racking her brain for another angle, and having found one, tried, “You can’t hide all your life, Willow.  You gotta step out into the world.”

Buffy saw Willow sheet-covered head look down, and then Willow said, “Just not today, okay?”

Buffy gave a little groan, and looked at Willow with disappointment, finally accepting defeat.  “Okay.”

*****

Meanwhile Xander had managed to get inside a classroom.  There, it didn’t take long to find a piece of paper, some sticky tape, some scissors and a pen.  He was about to write down the word ‘God’, when he hesitated.  First, people would to easily see it as a rip-off, and second he wasn’t exactly dressed as God.  Besides, Xander reasoned, God was all nice and all, it should be possible to come up with something even cooler.  He thought for a moment more, and then grinned.  He brought the pen down, and wrote, ‘Death God.’  Yep, add ‘death’, and it just got cooler.  He cut off the words from the rest of the paper using the scissors, so he had a sign.  Then he used the tape to stick the note to the left side of his chest.

He had just promoted himself from ronin to Death God.

*****

Xander soon reached the auditorium where the kids were waiting for their chaperone’s and found his friends as well.  He smiled and Buffy smiled as well.  What Willow was doing except standing there he couldn’t say as she was still covered head to toe by the ghost sheet.  Buffy then frowned as she noticed his addition and he grinned wider.  He reached them, and when Buffy was finished reading the sign, she said, “You went from samurai to Death God?”

“You know what they say, clothes make the man,” Xander returned with a grin.

Buffy looked at him, smirked for a moment, suppressed it as best she could, and said, “Maybe we should change that to ‘Clothes go to a man’s head.’  What do you think, Willow?”

“I’m pretty sure I can see his head swelling,” Willow joined Buffy in the rimming.

“Live with it, I’m a Death God now, and if you don’t,” Xander shrugged, and then said menacingly, “I’ll carry your souls off into the afterlife and find you a not so nice spot.”

“Well,” Buffy drawled out, taking a step forward and swaying her hips seductively, “it’s a good thing then, I don’t have to worry about that, do I, Mister Powerless Before Me God? Being rather Immortal, and soul going to whoever does manage to kill me, all your threats slide down my spectacular body like so much old news.”  She let her right hand move down from her shoulders to the bottom of her right leg, sticking it out to accentuate its athletic beauty – not to mention the short, black, shiny skirt that was barely coming halfway her upper legs.  Xander’s heart skipped a beat, then another one when Buffy gave him a look of a cat that just ate a very tasty canary.

Willow’s heart was skipping a lot more than two beats.  Oh, why oh why, did she have to give Buffy the idea for Amanda?  What if all this flirting will allow her to see something in Xander she’d been seeing for the past years, at last?  Next thing you know . . . Ugh, why couldn’t she have the guts to not put on this sheet – or rip it off?

“Oh, don’t worry, I can do many more things than send you to an afterlife – the ghost, though, is screwed,” Xander said with a grin, making Willow jerk out of her reverie.

“Let’s get the kids,” Willow said quickly, and started walking to what would be her group, hoping her friends would follow her lead and they’d stop this evil business.

Buffy looked after her for a moment with a sad pout – if only she hadn’t been wearing that sheet.  When she turned back to Xander he was looking at her questioningly – to no doubt see if she knew something of Willow’s not so fun behavior all of a sudden.  Buffy shrugged, and in her usual self, she said a little down, “She’s right, gotta get the kids.”

Xander watched his friend give him a wistful smile, before turning around and finding the group of children she was assigned to.  Xander sighed, and went to do the same.  A little later he was with his group, and squatted down.  “All right, a little expert advice on getting extra candy.  Tears are always a winner, women fall for it easy, and most of the time men as well, especially if you’re a girl.  There’s always the ‘you missed me’-routine, but it’s risky.  Only go there for chocolate.”  Xander’s group nodded dutifully, eagerly filing the information away.

Xander stood back up and was ready to move his group, when one of the boys, asked, “Hey, mister, what’s a Death God?”

Xander smiled at him, organizing what he was gonna say, before saying it, “A Death God is a being that exists to punish the unjust, to send all the nasty spirits to hell, destroy demons, and take the good souls up to heaven.  Those who can’t find the way there on their own.”  His group of children nodded at that information, “All right then, squad – are we ready to destroy all those nasty things out there, and get the most candy in the process.”  All the children cheered, and Xander drew his katana dramatically, pointed to the exit and said, “Then squad, move out!”  He and his group promptly went to do exactly that, Xander sheathing his sword in the process.

A little bit off, Buffy paused her talk with her group, and took the time to watch Xander for a moment.  He’d make a great father some day, she realized, if only he could see the girl that would love to be a great mother to his children.  She turned around and looked as ghost Willow got her group moving.  Idiots – both of them.  She quickly turned back to her group, and said, “Are we gonna let the guy who thinks he’s so much and his little group get the best of us, or are we going to get the most candy?”

The kids turned to look at each other for a moment, and then turned back to Buffy. “Most candy!” they exclaimed happily, and Buffy smiled.

“Then pay attention,” Buffy said and stood up, “I know a few more tricks then he does, I’m the master of trick or treating.  First, look cute before you even reach the door; they’ll be looking through the windows to see what’s coming.”  She gestured to the exit and she and her group started moving, while she started explaining and showing a few tricks.

*****

In the back of Ethan’s shop, Ethan was kneeling in front of a small statue, a circle of candles around him.  He looks up at the ceiling, chanting a spell, and finishing up with, “Persona se corpum et sanguium commutandum est. Vestra sancta praesentia concrescet viscera. Janus! Sume noctem!”  With a pulse of energy and light, the spell finishes – the eyes of the statuette glowing orange momentarily.

*****

“Aren’t you cute . . .” the older woman started with a smile, bending over closer to the child dressed as a demon to take him in better.  Willow’s little group was doing well, and she was waiting patiently.  Suddenly some energy flickered over the boy, then he morphed into something, the mask ceasing to be a mask, the rim of human skin between it and the rest of the costume changing to become demon skin.  A moment later the little demon grabbed the woman by her throat, growling inhumanly.

“Hey!  What are you doing!” Willow exclaimed in surprise, stepping forward as the rest of the children transformed as well.  Willow grabbed the mini demon’s arm and was surprised when it didn’t immediately give.  Children shouldn’t be this strong.  With effort she managed to get the little arm free, and the old woman staggered back, her throat producing a sound that was a combination of screaming in fear, gurgling, and coughing for air.  The door slammed closed a moment later, at which time Willow suddenly felt dizzy.  She staggered back and collapsed to the floor.  The newly formed demons, looked at her, debating for a moment if she could be eaten. Then with a moan Willow rose from the floor, the ghost costume gone, only the fetish, Space Babe Captain costume remaining – and she was vaguely see-through.  The mini demons looked up at her, then down at the sheet, and body still lying there.  Too freaky for even demons, they ran off.

“Ugh,” Willow muttered, shaking her head, and then noticed her sheet lying on the floor. She looked down at herself, too panicked to notice the see-through effect disappearing for her to become fully visible, the body underneath the sheet was another matter though.  She quickly reached down, and her hand moved cleanly through the sheet and her body, which she noticed then.  “Oh, my god,” Willow muttered, looked at the door, and tentatively moved her hand to it – then through it.  Willow gulped, remaining rooted on the spot for a moment, until her brain kicked in again.  “I’m a ghost!” she said softly with shock.  “Buffy!  Xander!”  Then she ran off, not having enough time and wits to wonder why she wasn’t sinking through the ground.

*****

Buffy grabbed her head as she staggered under an onslaught . . . of what she couldn’t say, she groaned and then her awareness was gone.  Her body slowly morphed to match the character of her costume, her body adjusted to a new height, her bust grew to the type that was the envy of women everywhere: big, but not too big, and eternally defying gravity.  Her legs lengthened becoming more athletic and well-defined – something the short skirt showed off quite nicely.  At the same time, the heels shortened, becoming more practical in a fight.  Buffy Summers, bleached blonde, wearing a brunette wig, petite girl was gone, and a magnificent, tall brunette stood in her place.

“Ugh,” Amanda Derrieux, also going by Montrose and several other aliases, muttered as she staggered under a sudden assault of nausea.  Her head cleared quickly, as always, and she looked around.  “What the hell!?”  How had she gotten to this quaint USA little town?  Amanda Derrieux did not dwell in places like this.  Sometimes she visited a town like this for a short time when something valuable was to be – acquired – from a very rich resident; but remain in these things she never did.  And there was not a hint of knowledge inside her mind about a rich resident having something valuable, and even if she did, she still didn’t remember coming here.

But that was the least of her worries.  With undisguised disbelief she watched as little creatures – either demons from some horror movie, or aliens from some . . . horror movie SF style – were around her, and snarled at her.  She was about to reach for her sword, when across the street, another one of them attacked a sweet old lady.  She was about to fight her way through the demons surrounding her to go help – Amanda wasn’t the type to help anyone, but a demon attacking an old lady assaulted even her limited sense of right and wrong – except that the old lady easily caught the demon by the neck with her left hand, which then was struggling to get out of the steel grip . . . of the sweet old lady?  Her right hand rose to the air, and she said, “This is a job for Super Granny!”

“Super Granny!?” Amanda said in disbelief as the old lady rapidly hogtied the demon. The result of which was that the demons around her didn’t stick around, and scattered in all directions.  With a burst of speed that made an audible sonic boom super granny came over.

“Are you alright, sweety?” the sweet, old, super lady asked sweetly.

“Uh, yes?” Amanda answered uncertain.

“Good, be safe!” the lady told her, and then with another audible burst of speed the super grandma zipped away and around a corner two houses down the road – after one of the fleeing demons.

“Super Granny?” Amanda asked dumbfounded for the second time.  Something in her mind thought of something, and she said, “Isn’t that a TV show?”

After a moment of letting her mind catch up to reality, or whatever this place was, Amanda turned around and walked in the other direction, telling herself, “I have to stop after the twelfth cocktail, Immortal immune system or not – cause this is nuts.”  This became more evident when a horse appeared from a side street, whinnied loudly as it reared up, and the cowgirl on top yelled, “Yeeehaaw!” while shooting a six shouter in the air, before galloping off to wherever her destination was.  “Maybe the ninth is good place to stop,” Amanda muttered and walked onward.

*****

Xander was just about to direct his group of kids onto another porch for the next heist – uh, trick or treating – when it hit him.  He didn’t really know what hit him, just that it hurt, he doubled over . . .

And all awareness was gone.  His white, sheet-ribbon belt had just sunk through his sheet, while the sheet formed an actual over-robe, not fluttering open.  The number six on his back had changed to the Japanese symbol for six, encapsulated in a diamond border, all black. At the bottom in the middle of the robe, a split had formed, while next to it on either side, alternating symbols had formed, a vertical stripe, a large dot, a vertical strip, a large dot, and so onward.   The painted black fatigues had changed to actual robes.  Finally, a long white scarf had formed around his neck.  Three long, triangular hair ornaments had formed on the front of his head, through which long locks of hair fell in front of his face, two more of the same ornaments had formed on his right side of his head, through which hair was pulled back.  His face itself, had changed completely as well.  The pain that Xander had felt, had come from the light shimmering around the plastic sword, a light that extended into his chest, and then settled down.

The new figure staggered to his full height, just a little shorter than Xander himself had been.  He steadied himself, himself being Kuchiki Byakuya, Death God Captain of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Imperial Guard Divisions of Soul Society, a realm of the dead, where souls await reincarnation.  Disoriented he looked around and allowed his senses to notice the demons, the evil spirits that were behind him, and had started to circle.  Last thing he remembered was going to sleep in his home, now he was here.  Briefly he noticed this had to be some little town in America, but he refocused on the greater problem at hand.  The little demons, as well as a little cowboy and ballerina – the last two running off once they saw the demons that were focusing on him, no doubt because his far greater spirit force which probably looked like a nice snack to the demons.

These demons were strange though, all wrong.  Apart from Hollow, which were not demons per se, demons were rarely encountered, and many a Death God lived out their lives without ever encountering one at all.  In fact, up until today, he hadn’t seen even one demon either, but here were four of them just like that.  They were small, very small, but that wasn’t really what was off about these demons.  Kuchiki Byakuya was one of the most powerful, and most experienced Death Gods around, and his senses as a result were sharp.  These demons didn’t seem to be demons; it was as if he could see people – children – inside of them.  There were demons and evil spirits, sometimes even Hollow, that possessed the living – but then he’d be seeing it the other way around: humans, with demons inside of them.

“Xander!” a voice screamed.

Kuchiki Byakuya had but moments to decide, as the voice and the unfamiliar name attracted some of the demons’ attention – they would either attack the owner of the voice, or himself soon, but he was not yet ready to slay these monsters; he needed more information.

“Demon path, art of binding 16: Soul Cage,” Byakuya calmly intoned, and placed his right hand on the ground.  Four red energy crackles shout out from his hand to underneath each of the demons, and then they formed a red disc, bars of red light shot up from the edge, and then a another red disc served as a roof.  The demons snarled, attempted to grab or otherwise breach the cage, and staggered back as they got shocked by the energy.

To the Death God’s right, ghost Willow skidded to a halt, saying softly, “Holy shit.”  She became beat red the moment she realized what had slipped out of her mouth, but Xander, her very normal Xander, had just performed an incredible, high level of magic – energy cages to keep some of the little demons contained.  The Death God turned to face her, and Willow’s eyes widened.  This was not Xander, not at all.  He was dressed very similarly, and from the back he had looked rather the same, but he most definitely was not Xander.  In fact, this man, most definitely a man, a very handsome, not to mention cool and in control looking man, seemed even a little shorter than Xander.  The man’s face was also less rounded than Xander’s, more angular, with a much sharper nose that suited his face just fine.

Kuchiki Byakuya regarded the girl in the strange and titillating outfit in front of him.  It was obvious she was a spirit, a soul.  However, there was no chain linked to her heart, nor was there a hole where her heart should be.  Normally, a deceased person that did not cross over, had a chain linked to its heart that chained it to whatever place that held the unfinished business that kept them stuck here.  Less often, but still possible, there was the chain, but it was broken allowing the soul to move about.  In time, the pain of the unfinished business, and watching people move about, would get to the soul, it would grow angry and resentful, losing its humanity, and the chain – and heart – would disappear, leaving an empty hole.  Then is when it becomes a Hollow, a monster without conscience, and often without consciousness, a rabid beast that would instinctively seek out and devour other souls and often humans with high spirit power – to try and fill the empty hole in its chest.  This soul, however, had no chain, nor a hole, not even the tell tale signs of a soul beginning to lose its heart.  Things were getting stranger by the second.

Willow in the meantime had recovered somewhat.  Her hand moving through a door, and seeing her own body lying on the ground had freaked her out, and she had just instinctively run to seek out her friends for help.  With this approximation of Xander, demons safely contained in a cage, she had calmed down a bit, and her great intelligence had rapidly put the pieces together. Kids dressed as demons were demons, she was dressed as a ghost, and she was now a ghost, and Xander dressed as this – Death God – almost certainly was now this Death God.  They had become their costumes!  That meant . . .

“Don’t hurt the demons, they’re really just children wearing a costume!” Willow blurted out quickly, not quite sure if this Death God – which sounded ominous she had to say – would deal out some death.

“Indeed,” Byakuya said calmly, not a hint of surprise or being out of control on his face, as he casually turned around to look at the children to take them in again, and Willow noticed the six on his back no longer being a six, but being some Asian symbol.  Kuchiki examined the little monsters again, seeing the children inside, and with some more scanning of more than just his eyes, it was indeed obvious they were touched by magic – it did seem to fit, but how would this spirit know?  He turned back to Willow, and decided to see what her reaction was, when he said – as gently as he ever allowed himself to be, “I am Byakuya Kuchiki.  You are a lost soul, someone who did not pass on.  As a Death God, it is my duty to send you on your way to the realm of the dead, with a method called the Soul Burial . . .”

He had been planning to say more, but the strangely dressed girl soul interrupted him with a rapid fire several sentence that normally would have been difficult to follow, but for some reason he could understand her just fine.  With her hands up, shaking left to right in a warding off gesture, Willow rapidly burst out, “No, no, no!  I’m not really dead you see!  My name’s Willow Rosenberg by the way, and I’m just like them.  I was dressed as a ghost, we all turned into our costumes!”

Byakuya’s eyes quickly shot up and down Willow’s scantily clad body, and he said calmly, with just a hint of questioning, “Interesting concept for a ghost.”

Willow looked down at that statement and took herself in.  Her eyes widened, she had all but forgotten what she’d been wearing.  She instinctively crossed her arms in front of her, bending down a little to cover as much as possible and blushing.  She quickly blabbed out, “I wore this underneath the ghost sheet.”  She looked embarrassed at the newly minted Death God and whimpered, blushing a deeper shade of red, “I chickened out.”

“I see,” Byakuya simply said and started going over things.  He still didn’t understand how he got here without him knowing – obviously a Death God was needed here, but why a Captain?  And why was the last thing he remembered going to sleep?  Did something happen to his short term memory when he passed through the gateway from Soul Society to make him forget why and how he came here?  He dismissed it as something to find out later.  He had a job to do first, deal with this mess and blatant abuse of magics.  Whoever was responsible for this, was going to find himself in a lot of trouble – to put it mildly.

Willow in the meantime had been worried the Death God her best friend had turned into, was deciding whether or not he should perform this ‘Soul Burial’, so she told him, “So don’t send me to afterlife, okay?  When whatever is happening is over, I’m going back into my body and . . .”  Willow hadn’t thought of it before, but now that she voiced the words, it dawned on her.  What if?  Trying to keep her modesty was instantly forgotten, and she straightened up ramrod straight with panic.  “Oh, god, I /hope/ I go back into my body!  What if . . . what if it really killed me to turn me into a ghost?  What . . .”

“Calm yourself, Miss Rosenberg,” Byakuya said with his now obviously trade mark collected manner, and its assuring tone did actually calm Willow down a bit.  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes.  We must take this one step at a time, and . . .”

“No, you won’t!” Willow exclaimed somewhat frightened, “When this is over, you’re going to turn back into my best friend Xander.  He dressed as you, well, not specifically you, but he had a name tag with ‘Death God’ on it.  You see, you’re like me and them too!”

The whole concept was idiotic.  He was not a creation of some piece of magic.  Yet at the same time, it would explain how he got here – if he was not created, but parts of him, yanked out of his bed and placed here.  And since he had as of yet no chance to examine himself in this strange situation, he did just that.  It was only a moment later that he realized he was inside a body, yet he had his powers and his . . . His eyes widened in abject shock and horror, an extremely rare occurrence when Kuchiki Byakuya would lose his control, and only to the extreme of circumstances, and that was this indeed.  It was now finally that he became fully aware of the light throbbing in his mind that he had subconsciously ignored to deal with the situation at hand, a throbbing that came from /the/ Zanpakutō, /the/  Soul Slayer, /the/ sword – not /his/.  With a rapid movement, he grabbed the hilt, and violently yanked the katana from its sheath, holding the gleaming blade up.  Willow jerked back at the sudden movement, the sudden emotion on the previously calm face, and all with a deadly weapon – perhaps even to her, considering what this man was.  “This . . . is /not/ Senbonsakura!” Byakuya said almost violently, and looked at the sword with wide eyes, emotions ranging from shock, a little fear, and confusion.

It was indeed a Soul Slayer alright.  A gleaming blade from which, to anyone sensitive enough, energy was positively bursting forth, while at the same time to those, it would seem like the blade was bound in this spirit energy.  A simple circular guard, a simple hilt bound in leather, and two ribbons circling in opposite directions like a double helix on top of that - one ribbon orange-red, the other a cool, light blue.  To anyone experienced enough, they would also instinctively know, that there was more than met the eye about this seemingly simple katana.

It was absolutely shocking, that was what it was.  It was bad enough that Kuchiki Byakuya found himself here without his Soul Slayer, without a very piece of his soul, worse that somehow a different Soul Slayer had replaced it, even worse that this Soul Slayer was completely unfamiliar to him; but none of that, could prepare for the sense he got from his blade itself.  It felt . . . wrong, somehow, and it wasn’t whatever magic had taken him here – he was certain of that now – and no doubt given this blade to him.  No, it was the blade itself.  It felt like . . . it felt like it was trying to tear itself apart, that was what it felt like.  As if a rabid dog and a rabid cat were stuffed inside a far too small space – namely this Soul Slayer – and were waging a war with each other.

“Uhm . . . Senbonsakura?” Willow finally prompted, wondering if she was insane to potentially antagonize an obviously freaked out, very powerful man – Death /God/ – holding an deadly weapon.

“My Soul Slayer, and this is not it,” Byakuya stated somewhat harshly.  He realized this quickly and started taking slow, calming breaths, and worked to get himself back under control. He had to figure out this mystery, and get his own weapon back quickly – maybe he should find the nearest gateway to Soul Society and see if Senbonsakura was still there.

“You name your swords?” Willow asked a little perturbed, it seemed rather creepy.

Byakuya trained his gaze back upon Willow, lecturing on the essence of his blade an easy way to get himself back under control, “A Soul Slayer is no mere blade, Miss Rosenberg.  It is alive, it is the form of a spirit, in fact, it is an aspect of myself, of my soul.  It’s a piece of me, and it is not named, it has a name, one it teaches the bearer.”

Willow’s eyes blinked, her mind going back into over drive.  Still fearing a little for her life - this guy was so unreadable, despite that moment of shock there, there was no way she could tell whether he was still planning on sending her onward, so she felt she still had to find a way to convince him.  The key was here, and she was already starting to figure out – maybe she should ask the expert for a little confirmation.  “A little magic can’t simply destroy a soul, right?” Willow asked the Death God hopeful.

“Magic can destroy a soul, but it takes a lot of power – a soul isn’t so easily destroyed – nor can it be done with these . . . random parlor tricks.  The magic must be focused totally on destroying spirit or soul that is its target,” Byakuya explained with a light hint of intrigue.

“Then I understand what’s going on,” Willow said a little excitedly, “and it proves what I said.  You’re not really here.  Xander’s body was changed to reflect yours, and your mind got control over it, but the magic couldn’t change, and in the process destroy Xander’s soul.  So when it tried to create your Soul Slayer-”

“It couldn’t do it,” Kuchiki Byakuya interrupted her, unnoticed admiring the sharpness of this girl.  “But it could create the Soul Slayer that belonged to the soul that /was/ here.  This is the Soul Slayer that your friend would have, if he were a Death God.”

“Exactly,” Willow said exactly, this guy wasn’t stupid – like that wasn’t already clear.

The sword in Byakuya’s hand vibrated – it did not like to be in the hands of someone it did not belong to . . . but at the same time, the soul it belonged to, was still here.  The sword itself was probably as confused and anxious as he was.  He gripped the hilt a little more tightly, and closed his eyes, allowing his awareness, his spirit to focus inward.  Now that he knew what he was looking for, and no shock of an unexpected weapon was in the way, he could find it easily.  Just like with the children, he could sense the real person that belonged here easily – trapped beneath a changed body and mind.  From that soul, it was easy to connect with the Soul Slayer, to bridge and meld the more limited connection that was already there.  It was easy for him to do – he had done it a long time ago with his own.  He got glimpses of the Soul Slayer’s avatar, and was not surprised that he was not allowed to see it fully.  He got a word, perhaps even its name, that slipped from his memory the moment he heard it – again, not surprisingly, this blade belonged to someone else.  He then gently sent, while allowing insight in his own mind and spirit, even if his soul was not present, *My name is Kuchiki Byakuya, magic has placed me in control of your bearer’s body, and separated me from my own Zanpakutō.  I am no more pleased with this situation as you are.  Allow me your allegiance, and together we shall find the one responsible, and rectify this situation.*

After a moment, agreement in the sense of an idea, not words, returned, and the blade settled down quite a bit – it still kept the feel of trying to rip itself to pieces though.  What kind of Soul Slayer was this?  And what kind of person would generate such a blade?

Willow waited expectantly, and then Byakuya moved – fast, faster than Buffy, Willow was certain.  All she had time for was to scream, “NO!!” in horror.  The Death God had casually, in no more than two seconds, if it hadn’t been faster, cut down the children in cold blood.  A slice through a heart, a diagonal cut from shoulder to side, a decapitation strike, and another cut through the heart was all it took, the energy cages shattering under the might of the mystical weapon.

Willow looked in shock at the event, nailed to the floor, and looked as the demon-children screamed in pain and agony, sinking to the floor, one head flying through the air . . . leaving an intact child’s head behind, with a demon body underneath.  The demon bodies – and one decapitated head - evaporated and dissolved, the screams dying away, leaving behind four completely unharmed, without even a scratch on them, very alive children.  Very loud children, because the shock of the event made them all burst out crying, most asking either for their mother or father.  “Not just a sword, definitely,” Willow said with wide eyes.

Byakuya had already sheathed the Soul Slayer, and took a deep breath, looking around the town, and Willow, still shocked into silence, got the distinct impressions he was looking with more than his eyes and much further than just the immediate street.  “I cannot pinpoint the origin of the magic, too much magical and spiritual energy is around,” Byakuya said calmly.

“The Hellmouth,” Willow said with a wry smile and a shrug.

Byakuya gave her a look for a moment, and then down at the children.  “Removing all the transformations like this one by one will take too long, and with some,” Byakuya turned his head to pointedly look at Willow, “I may not be able to do it like this at all.  We’ll have to go to the source directly, and we’ll have to find it the mundane way.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m with you,” Willow answered him, and then looked at the sobbing children.

“Children, may I have your attention please,” Byakuya said, and Willow was surprised. The tone was his cool self, with enough command to make all the children look up and forget their crying, but at the same time sound gentle, almost sweet, that reassured the children.  “Do you know who I am?”

Why would he ask that? Willow wondered.

One boy, the bravest, managed to say with dying sobs, “You’re . . . dressed like the guy . . . that’s supposed to take us trick or treating . . . and keep us safe?”

“I am ‘the guy’ in question, just changed by the same magic that changed you,” Byakuya said with a cool, but gentle smile, and squatted down to get to the children’s level – his intimidating height having done it’s job, now it was time to look less frightening.  He calmly put the finger tips of his hands together, once again looking completely in control.  “I’m the one that changed you back, and I know the guy still trapped inside me, it means that I have to keep you safe, like he had to.”  The Death God paused his cool but gentle words, surprising Willow, how he could talk with such frank, almost adult words, remain as utterly cool and collected as he had been minus one moment, yet sound simple and gentle enough to reach children.  It was a skill she wouldn’t mind having.  “But I must protect the boy inside me, and all the other people changed by this magic spell as well, and I can only protect both you and everyone else, if you go with me on my search, and do exactly as I say, no matter how harsh urgency might make me tell you things to do.  So, are you four ready to dry your tears, be big boys and girls, and go on an exciting adventure to defeat an evil wizard with me?”

There was a momentary silence, and then the children nodded, before there was a smile, and they gave varying shouts of excitement.  “Get up then,” Byakuya said and rose back to his feet.  He turned halfway to face both Willow and the children with no more than a head turn, and moved his right hand casually through Willow’s form.  Willow jumped a little with shock, looking with large eyes at the odd occurrence, trying to wrap her mind around the sensation. The children looked with wide eyes at her and the hand moving through it.  “Same spell, she was dressed as a ghost over what she’s wearing now.  First, we’ll see about putting her back in her body, then we go looking for the wizard, okay?”

“Yeah,” the boy said, and the other three agreed.

“Stay close,” he told them gently, and the Death God than turned fully to Willow, and said, a little less gentle, “Lead the way.”

Willow looked at him, then quickly nodded and turned around.  She walked back up the pavement and to the steps leading to the porch that held her body, and she asked, “Can you really do that?”

Byakuya told her, as they walked on, with the children right behind him, “Yes.  There are souls, ghosts, who after remaining on Earth long, lose their sense of self, of their compassion and feelings.  They lose their hearts, and become Hollows.  They eat other lost souls to try and fill the hole, and sometimes go after humans with much spirit power.  In order to do so, they pull the souls out of the body.  Should we be there before the Hollow finishes, we’ve learned to place the souls back inside.”

Willow nodded, and said, “Here.”  Pointing down at the sheet covered body.  Byakuya squatted down and removed the sheet.  He reached out toward her, and to Willow’s surprise this time Byakuya took hold of her ghostly form as if it was solid.  His other hand was placed upon her body’s chest, and then he was silent for a few moments.  He rose to his feet again, like a nobleman or king, Willow felt a brief pressure, and then he let go of her.  Willow looked at him with trepidation.  He explained calmly, “The magic is resisting my efforts.  I could force my way through, but I’d risk harming your soul or body.  Rest assured, you are not dead.  Your body is merely in a magically induced stasis.  When this is over, you’ll wake up in your body.”

“Oh, thank god,” Willow sighed out with relief, more relief than she had expected to feel. It felt like the whole world fell off her shoulders with the realization that the spell had not killed her to turn her into a ghost.

“Well, then, children, Miss Rosenberg, let us find a nasty wizard to defeat,” Byakuya said, and turned to his right, and started walking, without even looking back to make sure his little party followed him.

“Can we find Buffy first?” she asked quietly.

*****

Spike and a few of his minions walked through the Chaos of Sunnydale – smiling.  He looked left and right, saw a few people getting beat up, one “demon” snack on a middle-aged woman. “I can work with this.  A Slayer without her strength, and the town gone to hell,” he said with a drawl, his leather duster fluttering about.  “Now, we just have to take one of our like-minded new brethren, then find the Slayer, and kill her.”

“Uhm, how, sir?” one vampire asked.

Spike whirled around angrily and looked directly at the glass-wearing offender.  “What kind of question is that, Dalton?  We search.  I thought you were supposed to be a bloody brainiac?”

Dalton skittered back a little, afraid for his unlife and added nervously, “What I mean is; the kids turned into demons – bodily.  Depending on what costume she wore, she could look like anyone or anything.  She could be that flower for all we know.”  Dalton pointed down at a yellow-pedaled flower in the grass next to the road and before the pavement to his right.

Spike turned his head to the flower.  “Bloody hell,” Spike said annoyed.  The brainiac had a point – one that had the other four vampires, including himself, hadn’t thought of yet.  He supposed that was why he was a brainiac.  “We’ll just search and hope she, or at least one of the bloody pups practically sewed to her hips, is still recognizable.”  Spike turned back around, preparing to move forward gather up some reinforcements from the magically formed crowd of miniature and not so miniature demons, when he looked back at the flower.  A moment later he flattened it with his food, grimacing from the looks he knew his fellow vampires were giving him.  “Just to be sure,” he said, and started walking forward.

*****

Amanda blew out a huff of frustration.  And it wasn’t easy to get her frustrated in the first place. And yet Cordelia Chase had managed to do that inside of the fifteen minutes since Amanda had met her.  After rescuing the cat-costumed cheerleader from something resembling a Yeti, a werewolf, and a smelly old Viking that looked like one Amanda had once met, the SoCal princess had latched onto Amanda.  And Amanda, at first, had liked the company of the kindred spirit.

“Gawd, what the hell am I going to do now?  Party Town is never going to return my deposit now!” Cordelia screeched, picking at a tear in her costume.

“Cordelia, my dear, if you don’t stop screaming like that, I’m afraid that you are going to attract a great deal of unwanted attention towards us,” Amanda softly warned the girl, “As fun as that normally would be, let me assure you, that if we get outnumbered and outgunned, as the saying goes, you are on your own, my dear.”

The teen brunette might have screeched again, until she saw the cold and uncaring look on the Immortal brunette’s face, not to mention the fact that she looked completely serious. “What’s your problem anyway?  We were getting along great a moment ago,” Cordelia finally asked her, but much quieter.

“A moment ago I still thought you weren’t an airhead who can’t think past her own clothes.  Clothes are magnificent, sweety, but they’re useless if you’re dead, and all your loud complaining will draw attention,” Amanda answered her, calm still, but with a hint of irritation and nervousness.  She finished, “Attention from the things that want to maul us, and I’m trying to keep us unmauled.”  Taking this, at first, kindred spirit along seemed less and less like a good idea.  This place was utterly ridiculous.  Demons and characters from fiction everywhere – demons, and they seemed to be real – no different from the fictional characters of course.  Then she froze, her posture stiffening as she felt something, but not the something she expected. Cordelia stepped up beside her and saw that she was starring at a tall guy in robes carrying a sword and surrounded by a bunch of kids.

Before she even knew it, Amanda reached reflexively into her coat and seemingly out of nowhere, pulled her sword and held it defensively before her.  “I am Amanda Derrieux, and I have no wish to fight you at this time, but I will defend myself!”

The man in the robes tilted his head slightly, as though confused, and replied with an equally formal tone, “I am Byakuya Kuchiki, Captain of the Sixth Squad of the 13 Imperial Court  Guard Divisions of Death Gods of Soul Society.  I defend the innocent souls from Hollows and all evil.  Unless you attack an innocent under my charge or in my presence, I will not fight you either.”

Amanda took a step back at that introduction, more than just a little stunned.  She suppressed the urge to curse up a storm and instead switched to her classic defense mechanism. Putting forth a sly smirk and a seductive pose with one hand on her hips and putting her sword at her side, she purred, “Oh my, that is an impressive resume.”

Amanda frowned for a moment, it was rare indeed that any man did not react to her charms – even gay men usually had a reaction, even if it was close to the opposite she was going for.  But this Byakuya’s reaction was unreadable, perhaps a flicker of annoyance in his eyes was the best she could come up with.  She still didn’t quite trust the self-proclaimed ‘Death God’ who felt more powerful and far older than Methos, the oldest of their kind at 5000, ever did.  But different too.  It wasn’t a “buzz” like with other Immortals.  In fact, if she had to put a description to the feeling, it felt like being at the epicenter of an earthquake while simultaneously being in the eye of a hurricane, at the center of a tornado, and on the bottom of the ocean all at the same time.

Then everything got flipped on its axis when the redheaded ghost stepped out from behind the ‘Death God’ and stepped forward.  Not that Amanda knew immediately that the hot little red haired tart was a ghost at the time, but you know what they say about hindsight.

“Oh.  My.  God!  Buffy?!” Willow exclaimed when she stepped forward after hearing a familiar voice, even if it was speaking things that were not at all familiar.

“I thought you said your name was Cordelia?” Amanda turned to the cat-costumed mortal at her side.

“It is!” the girl insisted, “She’s talking to you!  Wait!  /She’s/ Buffy!?  How did that happen!?”  This last the brunette cat-girl directed at Willow before turning back to Amanda and take her in.  There was not a hint that this was Buffy – for one thing, Amanda was as tall as Cordelia was.

Arching an elegant eyebrow at that, she turned to face the young woman that looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a porn parody of the original Star Trek series, and questioned with almost regal disdain, “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

“I don’t believe it!” Willow exclaimed out loud.  “You actually look like Amanda!” Willow then turned at looked at “Xander” and realized she probably could have expected this.

Frowning at the mention of her name, and idly wondering why anybody would pretend to be her . . . aside from the obvious that is . . . she stepped back from the redheaded porn star and turned to face the Death God once more.

Before she could say anything though, he said to her, “You have a unique and very powerful /reiatsu/.  Both powerful and almost . . . electric, but solid and strong like the earth itself.  And normally one who can see spirits is rather unique in their own way, I have since discovered that this spirit in particular is able to be seen by even those with hardly any power at all.”

/Spirit Force/ Amanda translated the unfamiliar term.  Amanda had been to Japan several times in her long life, and knew the language as such.  It didn’t take long for her to put the dots together; he felt it – like she felt it, specifically his – along with electric and powerful – he was talking about her Quickening.  The power that made her Immortal.  This man could sense it. Amanda considered for a moment, but he could sense it, there were demons, super grannies and what not around, what did it really matter?  “I was born immortal,” Amanda offered as explanation, a light tremor of nervousness about saying out loud in the presence of mortals. “What’s a Death God?”

“I send the spirits of the deceased when they can’t find their way onward to the realm of the dead, and destroy those spirits that have turned evil,” Kuchiki simply answered, thinking about the woman’s comment.  Humans born immortal?  This was new to him, and interesting. He wondered if this costume, like the one the boy wore, had pulled forth a real being like him, or whether this Immortal woman was simply a creation from an imaginative mind.  “We need to keep moving; many have transformed into the costume they were wearing, to set things right, we must find the source and end the spell,” Byakuya said calmly, while the little children looked from behind him at the two new women.

“What!?” Cordelia exclaimed in disbelief, looking at Amanda and then at Byakuya, while Amanda went over his words.

“He’s Xander,” Willow clarified for Cordelia, who’s eyes bugged out at the transformed dork.

Amanda finished processing the information and said, “That would explain Super Granny, and how I got here.”

Byakuya was used to leading, so he lead, and continued on his trek.  The children following immediately, and Willow and the other two soon following, he looked at Cordelia as their little entourage moved through the streets of Sunnydale, ignoring the chaos around them. Above Spider-man swung by, screaming as he was chased by Ranma and Ryoga, wondering why ordinary humans could now kick super heroes’ asses – behind them, several females were in hot pursuit.  Off to the left a pirate started to dig for a treasure in a garden that his map indicated – not knowing the person who had made the map was the same person locked inside of him, and there was no treasure, just a joke to complete the costume.  And to the right a demon decided to eat a tasty looking bunny – the demon never stood a chance, as evidenced by the stiletto the bunny opened before it charged the demon.

“The effects of the spell are very arbitrary,” Captain Kuchiki mused out loud. “For instance, it put Miss Rosenberg’s body in stasis while it released her soul in the clothes she wore underneath her ghost costume to wander freely, yet it gave me control over a body, while retaining my spirit powers.  Normally, a Death God is every bit as much a spirit as Miss Rosenberg is, and inside a body I should have no spirit powers.  One would think it would have put this body into stasis the same way.  And Miss Cordelia . . .”

“Chase,” Cordelia supplied as she and the others paid close attention to Death God’s observation.

“. . . Miss Chase is not transformed at all,” Byakuya finished.

“That’s right!  Cordelia didn’t change at all, I didn’t even notice!  Why didn’t she?” Willow exclaimed and started thinking.

Cordelia wouldn’t be Cordelia if she didn’t have an answer ready, “Because I have enough money to go to a reputable business, and pay for the best quality at Party Town.”

As Byakuya pondered Cordelia’s answer, Amanda asked sweetly from beside him, “What about the children?”  She had gotten ahead of the others to walk right next to Death God. She smiled a seductive smile at him.

The only reaction as they continued onward was the answer, “I broke the spell’s hold on them earlier.  And Miss Chase, I find it hard to believe that a franchise chain would provide costumes with protections against magic.  However, you may have a point.”

Amanda didn’t let up.  She had pretty much accepted that the Death God was no threat to her, and all of this was indeed real.  However, Kuchiki’s reactions to her flirtations, namely no reaction at all, had hit on her own personal sense of pride.  She was going to get a positive reaction out of him before all this was over.  “Japanese, and knowing Party Town, the breadth of knowledge you have astounds me,” she said, taking a step closer to his personal space.

Byakuya simply answered her, “There is nothing astounding about it, Miss Derrieux.  I’m a Death God, we serve the whole world.  As such, during our education, which is kept up to date, we are taught a variety of languages, cultures and facts about the different regions in the living world, for we must make contact with the spirits of the deceased in all regions, and sometimes even contact is necessary with the living.”

“Oh,” Amanda said with a smile, and spoke a sentence which sounded suspiciously like Russian to Willow, even though she could understand not a word of it.  Much worse the obvious look in Amanda’s face, the way she had been behaving around ‘her’ “Xander”.

The Death God returned a sentence with an obvious dismissive tone in Russian, and continued in English, “More importantly, we may have gotten a lead.  Miss Rosenberg, where have ‘we’ bought our costumes?  Miss Rosenberg?”

Willow was busy glowering at “Buffy”, and was jerked out of her reverie by the second more forceful prompt.  “Oh, uh, a shop called Ethan’s,” she answered quickly.

She saw Amanda take the useful prompt by bending over – at the waist, to show off her ass – to talk to the children, asking them gently, “And where did you buy your costumes?”  She was obviously trying to impress ‘her’ “Xander” with her body, as well as score brownie points by being helpful.

As the children answered they didn’t know, they’re mothers had taken them along, Willow muttered to herself, “Why couldn’t I have convinced her to go as Xena?  But no, I had to be helpful and pick a man-eating costume.”  Willow shook her head to clear, reminding her that neither Buffy nor Xander were really here, not even in the flesh, and “Xander” didn’t even seem to be impressed anyway.  She bent herself, lightly, nothing as excessive as Amanda and asked the children, “Did you see the salesman?  Older man, sandy, curly hair?”

“Yeah, that’s what he looked like,” the girl of the four said quickly.

Willow straightened up, and said, “Same shop.”

“Then the most likely conclusion is that we can find the source of this chaos at that shop, please lead the way, Miss Rosenberg,” Byakuya said with certainty, and then suddenly his face showed he had a revelation.  “I should have noticed this earlier – not arbitrary: chaotic.  Chaos magic, I may have been able to find the source based on that earlier, despite the interference of all the ambient mystical energy.”

“Ambient . . . ?” Amanda said with some surprise, as Willow pointed in the right direction of Ethan’s and started going in that direction.  “I knew I felt something wrong despite the obvious.”

*****

Spike grinned.  Around him were several of his men, and even more, some 15, demons and monsters he gathered about.  A masked monster that looked like a cross between a mime and a giant lizard – one that could shoot red orbs of destruction out of its mouth and had a massive and pitch-dark hole in its chest, and impressive for Spike’s group – more so on how he convinced what was essentially a mindless monster to follow him.  The demons, in contrast, were a piece of cake.  They easily deferred to the bigger, and implied stronger demons.  The monsters, though, had taken a little bit more convincing.  But more importantly, with them hidden behind a house, their prey was in sight – three women, a male and a bunch of kids they were obviously protecting – out of costume for some reason, actually wearing simple jeans and t-shirts.

One of the women Spike had recognized immediately: the mousy, shy redhead that was never far away from the Slayer.  The man, although definitely not actually like the whelp always hovering about the Slayer, did have enough similarities with him to make it obvious.  A second female, some vapid cheerleader if her remembered correctly, he had recognized a little later. Which only left the last woman.  She looked nothing like the Slayer – she was taller, a much more athletic frame, breasts that would make most women weep with jealousy, and finally had short, dark brown hair.  But, it had to be the Slayer, the redhead just made it undeniable.

“Alright – here’s the plan,” Spike said with a grin.  The Slayer, his Drusilla had prophesied, would be weak, but he had seen enough things with power around – not in the least of which was that freaky mime-lizard – he wasn’t about to go see what the boy had up his sleeve right now.  “We set up an ambush up ahead, kill the Slayer with surprise before anyone of them can do anything, and get out.”

“/If/ that is the Slayer,” Dalton said again.

Spike whirled around, took a step forward, grabbed Dalton by the neck and put a stake on his heart.  “You’re really starting to piss me off, Dalton,” Spike hissed at him angrily, while Dalton choked.  Vampires didn’t need to breathe, and as such wouldn’t kill him, but it was powerful enough to hurt, and he was trying to talk.  “Trust me, I know that redhead.  That’s the Slayer.  One more word, and it’s poof.”

“What I meant was . . .” Dalton wheezed and choked out, clawing at Spike’s hand around his throat, “. . . the man could be the Slayer.”

Spike let go with a frustrated grunt, making Dalton grab his painful throat and coughed and gargled to get it functioning properly again.  Damn that Dalton!  He was right.  Spike hated when other people were right – even if it didn’t strictly mean that he was wrong.  Dalton was most definitely not ever coming out with him again.  “Fine, we’ll kill them all.  Mask-face, demons, and monsters focus on the man, take him out first, the spell might have given him power, so don’t give him the chance to use it.  /We’ll/ take out the Slayer,” Spike said with a grin – even though Dalton was right, the Slayer /could/ be the boy, he still felt it was much more likely the woman.  Spike grinned in anticipation.  He would kill himself another Slayer, drink some of her blood, take more of it to Dru, who would most certainly be restored to full strength by the mystically enhanced blood, and then – with Dru back to her old self, and no Slayer – this town would burn, and then they could finally get out of this hell hole.

*****

Their little troop was moving along at a brisk pace, all eager to end this nightmare.  Even Cordelia was uncharacteristically quiet and focused on keeping up.  Amanda though was a whole other matter.  She wasn’t just walking, she was positively oozing sex, and talking happily about swords, complimenting Byakuya’s katana, and comparing it to her sword, and to a katana of a good friend she knew.  Byakuya was politely, but distantly, answering.  It wasn’t like the woman’s casually sexy demeanor didn’t touch him at all, he was a man after all, but the memory of his dead wife was far too important to him to let even a bit of it get to him.  It was difficult though, the woman, some 1200 years old according to her, wasn’t simply sexy like any two-bit hussy could be; she was charming, intelligent, natural, and oh, so knowledgeable – he supposed being 3 times his age would help with the latter a lot.  Willow, at the same time, was simply glowering at the two in front of her, how she was positively certain that “Xander” was falling for it.  “Xena, Gabrielle, Tweety bird, /anything/,” she whispered pissed off.  What was worse, was that even with the fetish outfit she was wearing, Buffy, or rather Amanda, was still stealing the show.

Kuchiki Byakuya stopped, and Amanda did a moment later.  The others behind her did so just in time to avoid bumping into them.  “Ambush, get ready,” the Death God simply stated.  He had his senses open – enough mystical auras around, so he hadn’t been particularly worried, at first, but one group of among others demonic spirit force had gone from a systematic method to their movements, to a much quicker circular path.  A path that led them to just a bit in front of them, behind the houses of either side of a crossroads.  And it was made worse as one in particular of those demonic reiatsus just so happened to be a /Hollow/ of all things.

Amanda grabbed for her sword at the announcement, her charming and sexy demeanor gone while Cordelia protested, confused.  The moment it was obvious the ambushers were made, they rushed out from behind their hiding spot, and came straight for the group.

“Spike,” Willow whispered unheard as she recognized the bleach blonde vampire.

“Oh, no, I’m too young and too beautiful to die!” Cordelia exclaimed at the horrible sight of what looked like a stampede of monsters coming for them.

“Stay behind me,” Byakuya said, calmly awaited the attack, having spread his legs to widen himself into a more effective obstacle in front of the children and two females.  Twin beams of energy shot forth from a sizable lizard with a mask on its face and a hole in its chest, and the demons beside it seemed to look on with glee.  To their surprise the robed man maneuvered his sword and caught both beams on blade.  Byakuya grunted, straining to hold the hilt of the sword – this hollow was powerful.  But a moment later the attack dissipated, and there was no damage.  Two red-skinned demons, man-sized as well, shot forward with amazing speed – but Byakuya’s sword skills were even faster and the unarmed attacks were deflected.  Not that the rock-solid hides on the spiked arms were much less than an armed attack – especially seeing as the arms only got several cuts, instead of being cleanly cut off.  These things were quite powerful, and heavily armored.  A smaller demon behind the first two was less fortunate though, the Soul Slayer cleanly sliced through its heart, and it reverted back to its human boy real alter ego.

“Cordelia!” Willow screamed, and with an annoyed growl the cheerleader quickly grabbed the child and pulled her with the others safely behind the Death God captain.

*****

The first attack of the five vampires had been spectacular – spectacularly bad, with the exception of one of them.  They were strong, and fast, but to someone with 1200 years of experience and skill, they didn’t even amount to rank amateurs – they were pathetic.  Amanda though, didn’t want to kill a few innocent people in costume, so she had merely cordoned off a circle, and had only given them nicks – the result being that their superior numbers, strength and speed had managed to get a few good hits in, and so she was separated from the others, and surrounded.

She grimaced as two vampires attacked simultaneously, growling and grinning with anticipation.  She ducked, kicked the left charging vampire in the heel, while her sword sliced across the right vampire’s upper leg.  Both staggered back with pain, but she could already see them right themselves - both with determination and their supernatural healing kicking in.  She was used to that though, she just wasn’t used to facing off against four opponents at the same time while trying not to kill them – or permanently maim them.

The other two that were not the blonde leader attacked almost immediately afterward, while the blonde remained waiting with a grin, without the disfigured, yellow-eyed face the other vampires were sporting.  The speed of the left vampire of the second set was impressive. He came over in a moment, grabbing her left, free arm.  It made her move toward the vampire in a moment, turning away from the right vampire as well as moving away from.  The sudden movement toward the vampire was an action it was not expecting, and a moment later she skewered the vampire through: it would heal, the person locked inside should not be hurt.  She twisted around instantly and made a slice at the final lackey’s neck, which the vampire easily avoided – no wonder, since that was the intent.  Amanda was quickly reaching the point of no return though – soon the people inside were just out of luck; after all, Amanda was not a murderer, but every Immortal was a killer.  In self-defense, heads literally rolled – so leaving the people inside crippled to defend herself and the person’s life inside of her was just the way chops rolled.

“You’re good,” the leader said in a thick British accent and with an evil grin.  Amanda focused warily on him, “Nowhere near what the Slayer can do though, it’s time for you to die.”

“Many have said the same, vampire,” Amanda answered, even smiling at him, “they all lost their heads.”  The vampire attacked, his face changing at the same time.  He was far faster and far stronger than the others.  He knocked her sword aside and slammed a fist in her chest, and a headbut to her forehead.  It felt almost like her rib cage broke inward with the punch, her head rang, but it and the dizziness was rapidly evaporating with her immortal healing.  Faster and stronger indeed – of course, she had 1200 years of experience, she had faced Immortals every bit as fast as the vamp had been, and unlike the vampire, they had not left a hundred openings to cut him to pieces.  The vampire had her by the throat, grinning victoriously, but the tip of her sword, which she was still very much holding, sliced into his knee, and Spike staggered back with a yell of pain.  It wouldn’t last, Amanda knew, she hadn’t done anything drastic, so his vampire healing would solve the problem soon.  Vampire healing . . . “If I ever tell MacLeod this, he’ll declare me insane,” she muttered to herself, as the last bit of her own pains were removed.  But several more of those attacks and it would have been over for her, as these vampires were strong.

*****

Kuchiki Byakuya was frustrated, and it was not often he felt that way.  The two red demons were fast – nothing like his true speed, or even his own now, but between the two of them, and having to fend off the lizard Hollow’s cero blasts, as well as keeping the children and teen girl safe from them and the rest of the demons, was taxing.  He wished he could just cut them down, but the red demons were both fast enough and had a strong enough hide, he couldn’t easily make a killing blow, and after returning two more of the little demons to humans, those themselves had learned to keep their distance unless there was a huge opening, and knew how to retreat the moment he closed it.

This really was beneath him.  This body was getting taxed.  It may have gotten all his skills and a huge chunk of his power, but it was still a body; and a body inherently burned through its reserves faster than a spirit did.  Since he didn’t have his own Soul Slayer, he couldn’t release it either and get the boost in power and speed.  Hell, if he had Senbonsakura here, just releasing it would be enough to free all the enchanted people from their costumes and wipe out those demon-animated corpses – those vampires – that were attacking the temporarily Immortal human.  And to think, none of these demons and monsters could hold a candle to the slightly above average Hollow – with the exception of the Hollow that was present of course – let alone a Menos Grande, and he was used to cutting them down like they were nothing.  And here he was slowly being whittled down – he had to admit, it was an effective method – if none of these demons lost their patience or temper and gave him the opportunity to finish one of the more powerful ones off, they might actually succeed.

Willow was concerned, she was directing the children and Cordelia around from her own position, which was away from the others and walking around.  As a ghost, she had no fear of the corporeal monsters, they couldn’t even touch her, which allowed her to move around and get a better view of the fight, and thus help direct the children and Cordelia to best help the Death God fight, and protect them as well as was possible.  Sometimes it was moving backward so Byakuya could move backward himself to absorb a blow or blast better, sometimes it was moving left so a he could safely push a demon in that direction.  They were quite a well-oiled machine, but Willow could tell the being inhabiting Xander was starting to get worn down, which was no surprise, really.  Willow had always thought Buffy was fast – she had been surprised at the speed Kuchiki Byakuya possessed when he freed the children the first time around, but these demons were even faster than he was back then, and the Death God was even faster now, and what Willow’s analytical mind had already figured out, was that judging from Byakuya’s once in a while visible frustration, he considered this a snail’s pace.  The implication of that was almost mind boggling, Willow just didn’t have the time to dwell on it.  No, Willow, just like Byakuya, she figured, was busy thinking of a way out of this mess.  If the little demons and fast demons couldn’t attack him and the children pretty much simultaneously, if Byakuya wasn’t forced to remain almost stationary.

“Look out!” Willow yellowed with a frightened shout, as she saw the lizard Hollow open its mouth to reveal the red-glow of another massive cero blast, while Byakuya’s back was turned.  

She needn’t worry though, the changed Xander had turned in time, already having sensed it.  A wide field of red fire burned forth from the mutated lizard Hollow’s mouth, and Willow felt an ice cold block form around her heart: it was too wide, the sword could never block it, it would pass Byakuya by on both sides, the children . . . okay, and Cordelia . . . would never be able to dodge.  A moment later a wide plate of see-through white energy emerged in front of Byakuya, wide enough to deflect the blast of fire fully, and it did.  It slammed audibly against the wall of energy and burst off along its length, almost incinerating a few of the smaller demons.  It had to be another magic spell like the cages Byakuya had used earlier, except that he hadn’t spoken any spells.  Wow!  With all the supernatural and research into it with Buffy and Giles, Willow had found out by now, that performing a spell without invoking it, through a ritual, or words, and without any catalysts was something only the best, and most experienced could do.

The cages!  That was it!  “Mr Kuchiki, lock the children in a soul cage!” Willow shouted rapidly, without waiting for an acknowledgment; he was too busy deflecting new attacks from little demons on the children and Cordelia, while driving back one of the fast demons.

“Cage!?  You can’t lock us up!  You idiot nerd!” Cordelia screamed panicked, and hurled more insults at Willow.

Willow ignored them, and simply added as she noticed the Death God slowing down just minutely to assess her suggestion.  “It should keep the demons out as much as they are kept safely inside, shouldn’t it?” Willow yelled.

The concept had never occurred to Kuchiki Byakuya.  Death Gods never had to protect humans from hordes of demons or Hollow for that matter.  Barely any demons present, and Hollow being just about all loners, meant that even when a human was attacked, it was simply a matter of killing the Hollow.  On top of that, Hollow’s came for high levels of reiatsu, of spirit force, since there were but few and far between humans who had that, that meant that even if humans were attacked by groups of Hollows – it was but one human.  Finally, the humans usually weren’t aware anything was going on around them, and a Death God was meant to keep it that way.  Three compounding reasons that using the Soul Cage magic as protection was never used, and the few times some Death God might have thought of it, he or she would have summarily dismissed it as impossible.  It was thus no wonder, even if he was a Captain, that Byakuya had never considered the option.

“Most unorthodox method, Ms Rosenberg,” Byakuya said, amazing how he managed to say it so calm, even as he carved another cut inside one red demon, driving it back.  It had potential, most definitely.  He had been forced to dismiss all uses of his magic, for the simple reason that with the constant attacks on both himself and the children meant he was forced to constantly flash around to get as close to being in two places at the same time as was possible. Without having access to his full power without releasing his soul slayer, let alone the power of releasing it, and spells being slower, it was all he could do to keep the children safe.  He might be able to pull off a spell, but with all these monsters so spread out and two of them so fast, none of them would be able to take out a whole lot of them, requiring him to cast any spell multiple times, and leaving either him or the children open to a successful attack.  Any use of magic, would have to make a decisive difference with just one cast – and the girl had just given him that use.

He tasked his body to the fullest to push out some extra speed, allowing him to push back both speedy demons, and block the new attacks from the Hollow, giving him enough of an opening to jump back, point his open hand down, and said, “Art of binding 16: Soul Cage.”  This time around, the cage started forming from top down, and a few seconds later the frightened children and frightened Cordelia were encased in the pulsing bars of red energy.  The moment it was finished, Byakuya sped off, straight for the lizard-like Hollow.  It had to go first – it was the one being that could still hurt his charges – it’s ranged attacks could simply pass in between the bars of mystical energy and reach those inside.

Willow meanwhile, convinced and relieved the children were safe, and that Byakuya needed no more help in keeping them thus, focused on her best friend.  She had been sure, that even though Buffy, or rather Amanda right now - despite not having the strength and speed of the Slayer - was more than a match for a couple of vamps.  After all, chopping off heads was the very purpose of an Immortal’s life.  It was thus with no small amount of shock to find Amanda not only not covered in dust of at least a few vamps, but that she was losing.  She was just witness to how a new attack by Spike with the help of another vampire got through her defenses, and several nasty blows and kicks left her definitely hurt – her right arm, her sword arm, seemed to be hanging lifelessly and covered in blood next to her body.  This couldn’t be.  Amanda was never depicted as being the best of the best like MacLeod was, but 1200 years of surviving “The Game” should mean Amanda was no pushover.  She couldn’t really be this bad, could she? Then she understood!

“BU- AMANDA!  THEY’RE REAL VAMPIRES!  NO COSTUMES!  YOU CAN KILL THEM!” Willow screamed desperately.

The change was instant.

*****

Amanda gritted her teeth.  She had obviously waited for too long with taking drastic measures. In that last attack the blonde’s nails – claws really – had cut into her right shoulder and made the arm useless for the next minute or so while it healed.  The bleached-blonde Billy Idol wannabe had torn tendons and muscle and veins to shreds, and she felt them hanging down along her side. If the bastard had managed to get a hold of it, or cut a little higher, it wouldn’t even be attached anymore.  She had already switched her sword to her left hand – and was pushing her conscience aside.  No more miss nice Immortal-

“BU- AMANDA!  THEY’RE REAL VAMPIRES!  NO COSTUMES!  YOU CAN KILL THEM!”

The vampires froze at the scream for a moment, and the feral grin that formed on Amanda couldn’t be seen long enough because she was already moving – she had been ready to inflict this on people, innocent bystander people – now that they were simply monsters, nothing was in the way anymore.  With a smooth slice one head came loose, to turn to dust before it even hit the floor, the body following soon after.  She twisted to the right and bent down, hacking off the left leg of the vamp there at the knee, and it went down screaming, “My leg!  My leg!”  The fight was over.  The hurt sword arm, and multiple internal injuries still healing had slowed her down too much.  Spike kicked the sword from her hand from behind, grabbed her by the throat tightly and pulled her up, sinking his teeth into her neck.  As he drank from the nectar, he yanked, and her neck broke.  Then he unceremoniously dropped the now limp bag of bones and flesh to the ground.

Spike shivered.  It was amazing!  Whatever this spell had turned the Slayer into, it was powerful – or maybe it was the spell itself.  The blood of the woman tasted like sweet ambrosia, it was like drinking liquefied energy.  Shivers went down his spine as the power infused him.  Its taste and the sensation of it coursing through his veins was practically orgasmic.  The rather deep cut on his knee, that he had simply ignored, was already healed.  It would have taken another few hours to heal completely normally.  Oh, this blood, corpse and all, was going to his Dru alright, she’d be restored to her full glory and power and more in no time at all.  This hell hole would burn soon after, and then he and Dru would get out of this godforsaken place.  He was tired of Slayers with family and friends to make his life miserable.

For the same amount of time that Spike was reveling in the blood of his enemy, the entire situation had changed completely.  Willow stared, stunned into silence at the sight of the woman that was her best and first female friend be brutally killed, meanwhile her other best friend faced off against monsters from nightmares and worse.  It all came spilling out at once.

“*/BUFFY!!!/*” she screamed, her terror and fear causing it to reach into high-screeching volumes towards the end.  Unfortunately it also distracted Byakuya enough that he held off attacking, choosing to defend another volley of high-speed and long-range attacks from the other monsters.  Glancing back over his shoulder, he frowned, pity and sorrow filling him, yet his cold and indifferent facade did not shift in the slightest.

He needed to end this.  Now.

Pushing the body beyond its limits for a single moment, Byakuya forced himself to move at his true speed and as the world around him virtually froze, he landed in front of the Hollow and glared up into its soulless mask as he made the final strike.  The Hollow, recognizing he was a Death God on some level attempted to give that distinctive roar that all Hollows let out.  It was already too late, and it started to disintegrate, the young man inside, some 18 or 19 years old, was revealed in the process.  Wearing half a Godzilla costume with a mime/opera mask over his face, he fell blissfully unconscious to the floor by the transition from Hollow to living human.

Byakuya wasted no time, and went after the red demons next.  The Death God smoothly ducked under one swipe and then drove the sword straight into the demon’s chest.  Deflecting a blow with an arm was one thing, but stopping a sword thrust with full power directly into its chest, was another.  The point pressed inside, and slid further with some resistance.  The moment the deed was done, the magic-induced demon started to dissolve into its true guise.  With a sudden jump high over the cage, the Death God went after its other target.  The demon reacted as Byakuya had intended it would: looking up at the high flying robed figure with some surprise. The Soul Slayer blade sliced cleanly down through the demon, from head to crotch.

Once that was done, he made sure to mop up the other demons – these being no challenge at all.  When he was assured that all of his opponents were defeated and nothing else would be attacking him, as well the cage that was still around the children and cheerleader, Captain Kuchiki quickly turned to regard the other fight that was still ongoing, doing his best to ignore the fatigue that was threatening to make him fall to his knees in exhaustion.

Surprisingly, there was no need, he discovered, as in the same amount of time it took him to defeat all his opponents, Willow had run over and was screaming at the vampires.  Greatly distracting them, and even terrifying one.  It left Amanda untouched for the time being, time her body used to heal.

By some strange inspiration, Willow pulled out her phaser pistol, and hoped seemingly beyond hope that Buffy wasn’t dead and that the pistol actually worked.  She pointed it at Spike’s head and pulled the trigger.  Even the preternatural speed of the master vampire couldn’t save him from the surprising action of the mad redhead.  It worked!  The powerful beam of blue energy blasted forward, straight through Spike’s head . . . and left him completely unharmed, the beam slicing equally harmless through several buildings before dissipating.

“NO!” Willow screamed in horror, and smashed the pistol to pieces on the ground, it strangely still resisting a ghost’s pass-through.  Willow didn’t dwell on it, returning to her previous strategy of loudly interfering with the vampires as best she could.

“Bugger off you crazy bloodless bint!” Spike growled, swiping his hands through Willow’s latex-covered body.  It was damn annoying when he initially discovered that he couldn’t touch her, let alone kill her and now here she was screaming her head off at him.  Now it was positively hell.

When she suddenly cut off mid-scream though, Spike allowed himself true relief for just a second, before the realization that she wouldn’t just stop screaming for no reason.  Then that itch in the back of his neck started to tingle.  The one that had saved his undead arse more times than he could count.  Hadn’t he heard a snap, like a neck being broken, just before the redhead stopped screaming and crying?

Slowly, for a vampire, he turned around and saw an extremely pissed-looking costumed-slayer smoothly rolling, grabbing her sword, and then standing up, dried blood staining her clothes and skin, starting from the neck, but otherwise completely healthy.  The sword now smoothly swinging, promising death.

“We,” she hissed at him in a tone that froze him to the spot in sheer terror, “are not done!”

“Bloody hell . . .” Spike cursed softly, the shock of what he’d just seen leaving him frozen.

Then Amanda started in on her retribution.

“Normally I’m lenient towards the ignorant, but every girl has her limits,” she remarked as she raised her sword.  “And you just seriously crossed mine!”  She lashed out, slashing her sword just above Spike’s wrist, the hand falling to the ground.  In one smooth movement, the head of the vampire she made one-legged earlier came off a moment later.  The final vampire, not counting Spike, went a moment later, the vamp might as well have lost his leg as well, frozen in shock and terror at a human rising from the dead.

“Aaarrghhhh!!” Spike screamed out loud, falling back, but was stopped by Amanda slashing off one of his legs, halfway through the thigh, forcing him to fall on his back, screaming even louder.  Faster than thought, she cut off his other leg, both dropping to the floor after the cut was made.

“YOU CRAZY BINT!!” he screamed, looking down at his helpless form.

With an almost devil-may-care gesture, she cut off his remaining arm at the shoulder and then did the same to the one she’d cut his hand off of.  Then she stepped over him, over his crotch, and grinned with an evil smirk.  “What was your name again?  Oh yes!  Spike.”  She lifted her heel and gave him another little smirk as his eyes went wide and he screamed out, “NOOOOOO!”

Then she ‘spiked’ her heel down.  Over and over and over and over and over again.

*****

“How long is she going to keep doing that?” Byakuya asked the red-haired ghost quietly.

“I don’t know, but I hope it doesn’t become the way she usually kills vampires,” Willow helplessly whimpered.  She and the Death God both winced as Spike let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as Amanda landed her high heel boots into his crotch for the 25^th time.

Finally, after over thirty stomps, Amanda stopped, a wicked little grin settling on her face as she stared down at the pitiful whimpering mass of vampire.  Then she switched to her other foot and continued as though she never intended to stop.

“Uh, Buffy . . . I mean, Amanda?  Don’t you think he’s had enough?” Willow timidly asked.

“Not really, no,” the brash immortal replied.

“We kind of have to get going, to, you know stop the spell that’s affecting everybody?” she then reminded Amanda.

“Oh, all right, spoil my fun,” she acquiesced and with no fanfare or further torment, decapitated the master vampire Spike, the slayer of two Slayers, William the Bloody was destroyed forever.

“Well, that was fun,” Amanda said with a dark tone.  “Where to next?” Amanda questioned then, turning her frown up into a sexy grin pointed at the Captain Kuchiki.

“It is Miss Rosenberg you should point that question at,” Kuchiki Byakuya said as he calmly sheathed his, or rather Xander’s, Soul Slayer.  He walked over to the soul cages, while Amanda looked at Willow with a grin, this one not so sexy.  The Death God Captain dispelled the cages, and questioned, “Is everyone alright?”

The children, looking with awe at Byakuya all nodded, while Cordelia folded her arms across her chest, and said tersely, “Yes, no thanks to you, Mr. Deathly.  Locking us up in a damn cage!”

“I apologize, Miss Chase, it was forward of me, but necessary to protect your lives,” Kuchiki answered her with a slight bow, making Willow and Amanda look on in surprise and amusement.

Cordelia, out of fodder to complain, was stumped for a moment.  It was hardly becoming to be nasty to the guy who humbly apologized as he should.  “Yes, well, okay then.  Thanks for saving our lives and stuff,” she said uncomfortably.

Her own arms folded across her chest, Amanda got closer to the surprised Willow, and told her, “You know, I’m still thinking whether humbling myself is worth shutting her up.” Willow blinked and turned her head with astonishment at Amanda, and then grinned.

Captain Kuchiki then turned to the newly freed children and one teen, and asked of them the same question.  Tried, in the case of the teen, who after finally getting his wits back ran off in fright.

“Miss Rosenberg,” Byakuya said, coming up to Willow, with the awed, and excited kids and one cat woman following him.  It pulled the redhead from her reverie, and the Death God finished, “the costume shop, if you would please lead us.”

“Uh, yes, of course, this way,” Willow answered and preceded them down the street.

*****

“This is it,” Willow pointed at the entrance of Ethan’s costume show.  After finishing off Spike and the other vamps, and freeing more demons, any monsters and evil people stayed clear of them, so the trek to the costume shop had been uneventful.

“Miss Rosenberg, Miss Chase, if you will stay here with the children to keep an eye out, then Miss Derrieux and I shall enter and deal with the – man who unleashed this chaos,” Byakuya said calmly, and Willow nodded.

“Sure,” Cordelia managed.  Normally it would have been a put upon ‘fine’, but somehow she felt like the Death God’s courteous behavior warranted that she be on, if not her best, at least better behavior.

Kuchiki and Amanda stepped through the door, and entered the costume shop.  The place still had quite a few unsold costumes left hanging on the hooks.  Kuchiki and Amanda paid them no mind as they entered the darkened store.  It expanded to the left just behind the counter, revealing a room cleaned of costumes, holding a table with an idol on it.  To both Death God and Immortal it was obvious it was the source of the spell, waves of magical energy pulsing from it.

“So we smash it, right?” Amanda said in a low tone.

“No, although that may end the spell, it may also make it more difficult to break,” Byakuya replied calmly, looking around the shop and spotting a door in the back, no doubt leading to some storage area.  The Death God was about to walk to it when it opened, letting in the man that the children and Miss Rosenberg had described.

“Well, well, well, my esteemed creations come looking for me.  How delightfully unexpected,” Ethan grinned walking still unafraid into his shop, his British accent thick.  “I don’t think I recognize the costumes,” he added with a critical look.

“You sold us the swords,” Amanda said with a biting tone.

Ethan smiled as he said, “Ah, creative people.  Rare.  For what purpose have you entered my humble establishment?”

“How do we break the spell?” Kuchiki asked with a stone cold face.

“And what happens if I choose not to answer?” Ethan asked with a grin.  He didn’t even have the chance to change the expression on his face before two swords were pointing at his neck only centimeters away from it.  Ethan swallowed a moment, looking into the two angry faces, and said after some mustering of courage, “Kill me, and you can’t break the spell.”

“Of course I can, it will just take a little longer than if you tell us,” Byakuya told him with no uncertain terms.

Amanda’s face gave a sexy smile of a sudden, and then her sword went down, Ethan followed it as it reached his crotch.  “I’ve already crunched the balls of one man . . .” Amanda paused a moment, long enough to give a quick sideways nod, and continued, “vampire tonight, so it might be a little less exciting for me to cut some off, but I’m eager to find out. You game?”

Ethan swallowed heavily, and managed to force out with a frightened face, “The bust – smash the bust.”

Death God and Immortal gave each other a look, and Kuchiki gave her a nod.  Amanda backed off from Ethan and went over to the bust.  “Can I . . .?” Ethan whined, pointing to the door he came from.

“No,” Kuchiki said, but that was all he had time for.  With a loud crash, the bust was smashed to pieces and then the Death God staggered back, groaning at the sudden withdrawal of magical energy.  Amanda too, staggered under the onslaught, her body shrinking back to Buffy’s height.  Ethan, not surprisingly, wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation, and slipped out the back like the weasel he was.

Xander, now Xander again, was assaulted more greatly than Buffy and he had to grasp and hang onto one of the costume racks for support.  The rack almost toppled over but he managed to steady it and himself.  “Ugh,” Xander groaned, moving his left hand, holding his sheathed sword to his forehead and rubbed it with the back of his hand.  Somewhere in his need to free his hands to find purchase, he had sheathed the sword, but he didn’t even know that.

“Oh, god, you can say that again,” a girl’s pained voice sounded.  A voice that made Xander force himself to his feet and take a few steps toward it instantly.  Buffy sounding exhausted and pained was one thing that could make Xander rise from the grave – a little exhaustion mattered not.  “Buffy,” he questioned seeing the girl still in her costume staggering to stand straight.

“Xan?  What happened?” Buffy asked confused, looking around, and vaguely recognizing the costume shop she’d bought her sword from, a plastic sword she was now holding.  How had she gotten here?  When she asked the mental question vague recollections from too high a place filtered into her mind.

“No clue, but I’m exhausted as hell.  I feel like I ran non-stop around the country,” he said, sounding indeed completely wiped.

“And I feel like I could drink dry an ocean,” Buffy muttered, her voice sounding like sandpaper.  She slowly walked over to her friend.

With a signal bell the shop door opened, and Cordelia stepped inside.  “Of course, dork face and blondie are back and bumbling about as usual.  Thought so when Willow disappeared,” Cordelia commented imperiously.

“Willow!?” Buffy and Xander exclaimed at the same time.

Cordelia sighed, “Great, now I’m stuck explaining everything, and probably have to help you losers get the kids you had to baby sit get home too.”  Buffy and Xander just looked at each other.

*****

At Sunnydale High Xander, Buffy and Willow watched as the last of the kids were taken home by their parents.  Three hours they’d spent, first Buffy getting a bottle of water and gulping it down like she’d been in the desert for a week, and then looking for all the kids they’d lost and been responsible for and bring them safely to the high school to be picked up by their parents – who, mercifully, were all thankful and not furious at them being late.  Most likely because they had seen what had happened outside, maybe they were even a victim of it, and never mentioning it and being glad their kids were okay was the fastest way out of having to acknowledge something not natural had happened tonight.  To illustrate just how tired he had been, let alone now was, when they’d met up with Willow, without her sheet this time, and in the hottest, spandex, porn-version of a Starfleet uniform, that had made his best friend drool worthy, he hadn’t even been able manage to comment on it.  He’d simply got them all moving on to find the kids, and he’d had spent doing the rest of their night by sheer determination alone.

That was the most annoying of this whole situation.  It should have been a night off.  A night without the supernatural, as Giles had said.  A night where they should have gone trick or treating with the kids, return them home, and then go out together to the Bronze and have fun. And maybe get a chance to flirt some more with super hot Amanda Buffy, and maybe even impress her with his Death God slash Samurai costume.  But no, instead they got turned into their costumes, get their bodies put through such a mangler that the mere idea of going to the Bronze now made him eager to run screaming to his home.

“Buffy!  Buffy!” a familiar voice screamed.

*Not him again,* Xander thought as he needed all his strength to turn to the new arrival. In contrast, Buffy – with her Slayer healing – and former ghost Willow had turned around like they always turned around, if perhaps a little less enthusiastic.

Angel, the souled vampire, arrived hurriedly, somewhat tired.  “Buffy!  I’ve been looking all over Sunnydale for you all night!  Your house!  The high school!  You must come quick! The town’s gone haywire!”

Three sets of tired eyes looked at the vampire, then momentarily looked at each other, and returned back to the vampire.  “We know, we saw, we solved.  Like three hours ago,” Buffy told him emotionlessly; if this whole event hadn’t been so draining, she may have reacted more favorably.  She pointed behind Angel, and the vampire turned around.  Now that Buffy mentioned it and pointed it out, all did seem in order.

“Oh,” said Angel.

*****

Exhaustion.  The type of exhaustion that Xander felt as he stepped into his bedroom did not have a word for it.  It felt like he was about ready to keel over and just die right there from it alone. Every muscle, every bone hurt.  Every movement, even just breathing, felt like he was doing it with a boulder the height of the Statue of Liberty strapped to his chest.  With effort, he managed to unbuckle his makeshift scabbard and let it drop to the carpeted floor, where it landed with a loud thud and a clang.

Xander managed to stagger over to his bed, turn around, and let himself lie down in it with a sigh of relief.  He’d been bone tired back when he’d first got released from that freaky spell; now it was horrendous.  That idiot Angel, and then that idiot Larry returning and trying some more hadn’t helped.  Xander had been this close to pounding Larry into the pavement until he was paste.  There was a serious question whether he would have been even physically able to do so, but he would have given it an honest to god try.  Xander’s pissed statement had actually backed the bully off, though.  Now he just wanted to go to sleep, and forget this whole ordeal ever happened.  Wake up, get some breakfast, and then go back to sleep for another solid day.

Clang.  Xander’s eyes snapped open.  The sound hadn’t actually been heard, his mind had simply finally caught up with when his ears had picked it up.  The sword had clanged!  A plastic sword did not clang.  A hard plastic sword could make some clicking-like sounds, but it did not clang.  Yet, as the sword had dropped to floor but moments ago, it had had landed with a heavy thud, and then clanged inside the scabbard.

Xander got up rapidly, his body protesting against the sudden movement by making him groan out.  He took a step and looked down.  The scabbard looked real, a smoothly polished wood, not plastic.  The hilt sticking out of it, was the orange and blue wrapped hilt of his Soul Slayer he, or rather Kuchicki Byakuya, vaguely remembered wielding, not the plastic piece of junk he’d bought in that bastard’s store.  Xander blinked.  It couldn’t be.  His mind practically refused to believe it.  He took several steps and picked up the weapon with his left hand.  Heavy, and definitely wood, not plastic.  He hadn’t even noticed as he had dragged it around Sunnydale looking for the kids.  He brought his right hand up, his mouth slightly ajar with the sudden shock.  He grabbed the hilt just underneath the round guard, and swallowed.  Leather, not plastic, as his eyes had already told him.  Yet, for some reason he had had the irrational need to feel it. Would the sword inside it be metal as well?  Of course it would be, he knew.  And yet, for that same irrational reason, he just had to see it, he had to know beyond any shadow of a doubt.  He pulled gently, hearing the now familiar click as the katana loosened form the scabbard.  Xander swallowed, and pulled, then stopped after some fifteen centimeters was visible.  A gleaming blade was revealed, a very real, metal blade – not plastic.

Slowly, carefully even, Xander locked the sword back into its scabbard.  “Holy crap.”

~~~~Part 2~~~~

With a groan that sounded suspiciously like a zombie rising from the dead, Xander’s body forced him awake.  His eyes opened to see his blurry room, and he had the wherewithal to check his alarm clock.  He jerked upright with haste when he found it showed 11:48, the room coming into focus as his mind kicked into fully awake mode, only to slow down again when he realized hurrying didn’t matter any longer.  He was so late already that the two minutes he could get to school quicker made no difference at all.

After pulling his legs and feet out of bed and setting them down on the floor he looked around.  The clothes on the floor were not for this day, he had to put on clean ones.  He looked over at the clothes closet, some three meters away, and he spent a minute contemplating if it was worth getting up to get dressed.  It was the sword, the very real sword, lying on the chair where he had placed it the night before that prompted him to get up and get dressed.  He had to get that thing to Giles, Buffy and Willow and ask especially the first what it meant.  It was scary to think of all the possibilities.  If only a spirit, thus dead person, could wield such a sword, did that mean he was some form of zombie now?  Or heaven forbid, some form of vampire?  He couldn’t be a vampire, he just couldn’t be.

Having finished dressing, he took the sword and grimaced.  How the hell could he manage to bring it along without anyone noticing?  Granted, the town was terrible when it came to noticing the supernatural, but even though the sword came into existence through magic, it really was just a sword, or at least looked like it.  He looked at the belt that the sheath was attached to, and got an idea.  After some effort he managed to fit it around his torso, from right shoulder to left side and the sword was on his back.  With some more effort he managed to put the sword low enough, that if he put his longest coat over it, and pulled up the collar it was reasonably concealed.  Thus, he was off to school . . . and his destiny.

*****

Buffy and Willow were slowly walking from their class towards the library, having pulled some snacks from the vending machine.  This morning Giles had told them he wanted a report of last night during lunch, since it was too late to do it before school.  Apparently Angel had showed up once or twice in the library the night before while he’d been running around trying to find Buffy, and thus had a reasonable idea on what had happened.

“You don’t think something bad happened to Xander, right?  I mean he hasn’t been to school all morning,” Willow questioned her best friend, worried.

“Nah,” Buffy answered, waving the idea away, “I’m the Slayer and after last night I was wiped.  Did I really get my neck, or rather Amanda’s neck broken and came back from the dead?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Willow said, still being a little shook up.  It had slammed home just how vulnerable Buffy really was: if it wasn’t being outnumbered it’d be magic that could do her in.

“Anyway, Amanda wasn’t tossing around magic and moving so fast to make the Flash jealous, and Xander doesn’t have a Slayer’s constitution. You saw how exhausted he was, I think he walked the kids home on pure determination.  Trust me, Will, he just slept through his alarm clock if he even had the mind to set it.  He’ll be here, eventually, even if it is tomorrow,” Buffy reassured her redheaded friend, being certain she was right, since she was still a little tired even now, and as she had said, she was the Slayer.  Willow nodded, reassured as they reached the library doors.

“Hey, guys,” a weak voice called, and they turned around, seeing Xander slowly come toward them.  He was obviously still not entirely refreshed.

“See,” Buffy told Willow, and she nodded again, blushing lightly as she remembered what Xander had seen her in the night before.

As Xander reached them, they greeted their friend back.  “What’s with the long coat?” Buffy asked him casually.

“In the library,” he said, mindful of the other students around.  Buffy and Willow nodded and they entered said library.

“I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence, Xander,” Giles commented as the trio walked into his sanctuary.  The Brit walked around the counter and stood in front of it, looking at them.

“It’s not his fault, last night exhausted him,” Buffy commented in a lightly sour tone.

“Yeah, it was the spell,” Willow added for good measure, looking at the Brit.

“I meant no offense,” Giles said, raising his hands as a symbol of his innocence. “Will you three please sit down, so we can discuss last night?”

After a moment Buffy and Willow gave in and walked onward to the table center stage.  Xander hesitated, waiting a little.  As his two friends were seating, and Giles stood near the table, he walked forward and said, “Yeah, about last night.”  Walking forward he took off his coat and tossed it gently onto the counter with his right hand.  In doing so, he revealed the sword, it’s scabbard sticking out over his shoulder.  He grabbed the hilt and pulled it forth, saying, “It didn’t turn back into plastic.”  While presenting the unsheathed sword with his right hand, he started undoing the belt holding the sheath with his left.

“Most intriguing,” Giles said, studying the sword as Xander came closer holding out the katana.

“Cool,” Buffy said, her eyes sparkling as she took in the weapon and its expert craftsmanship.  As the Slayer, she had more than a little eye and appreciation for weapons that could cut vampires and demons down to size, and with the expert knowledge of swords that any Immortal had by necessity added to her brain, she was more than a little excited at the sparkly new toy . . . er, weapon.

Willow just looked with wide eyes, her mind grinding through the possibilities.

“May I?” Giles asked, reaching out with both hands.  Xander shrugged and placed the weapon in Giles’ outstretched hands.  Giles examined it, and twisted it back and forth, testing the weight and balance.  “It is a magnificent blade, what were you dressed as again?” he asked, prompting Buffy to stand up and excitedly take the sword from him to do her own examination.

“A Death God,” Xander supplied nervously, reminding himself of his train of thought earlier this morning.

“And that would be?” Giles prompted impeccably, lightly keeping an eye on Buffy turning the sword this way and that, and making a few practice swipes, thrusts and slices while talking with Xander.

“A . . .” Xander frowned, trying to come up with the best explanation, “A Death God is kind of a spirit guardian of a realm of the dead.  They guide lost souls to the afterlife and destroy evil spirits.  Sort of a Japanese Grim Reaper, I guess.”

“Nice sword,” Buffy said with a smile.

“Xander’s sword,” Willow pointed out, and Buffy gave a little pout at her best friend, but then handed it back to him, making Giles frown.  Willow continued, “It’s a Spirit Slayer, or at least it was last night.”  Willow suspected it still was, and explained further, “It’s a weapon made to kill spirits and cut spiritual energy, and is also used in the method to guide the souls to heaven.  It’s actually the manifestation of a part of the Death God’s soul.”

“Interesting indeed,” Giles said, looking at Xander holding the blade a little awkwardly.  “I’m not sure if such a deadly weapon should be in the hands of someone so inexperienced at handling it, Xander, nor should it be carried around like you did.  I think it is best if we give it a place with the other weapons here – should you wish to wield it, you must train in the art of sword fighting.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Buffy said, already picturing herself getting to take it out on patrols.  She favored stakes, but then the weapons kept here in the library were crude and purely functional – she more than gladly would make an exception for a beauty like Xander’s new katana.

“Ah,” Xander just said, not sure.

“Also, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like the opportunity to examine it, Xander,” Giles said matter-of-factly, looking directly at him and the sword.  “It would be good to know how much of this sword is a sword, and how much of whatever mystical properties a ‘Spirit Slayer’ possesses has remained.  Would you mind?”

Xander frowned.  He had to admit, keeping the sword here did seem logical; he’d hate to think what his father would do if he ever caught him trying to sneak the katana into or out of the house.  And it seemed to him Giles was all but offering to train him, didn’t it?  It would also be good to know if the weapon was still mystical, wasn’t it?  Yet, it didn’t feel entirely right to just hand over the sword entirely.  “Uh, okay,” Xander finally decided and sheathed the sword, handing the whole thing to Giles.

“Thank you,” Giles said as he took the sword and turned around toward the counter and his office behind it.  As he walked toward it, he spoke, “There are some recollections of magical and mystical weapons in the annals.  Some are known to be true, others just myth and legend.  It will be fascinating to find out if, and how this one stands up-”  Giles stopped in his tracks and speech as the sword just disappeared from his grasp.

“Whoa!” Buffy commented, while Xander and Willow looked at the event with wide eyes.  “What happened!?”

Giles reset his glasses as he turned back around to the trio.  “Curious, it seems to have just taken longer for the spell to wear off from the sword,” Giles speculated quite perplexed.

“That’s weird,” Buffy said, and Willow looked at Xander with a frown.  The boy simply looked with large eyes, equally unable to understand what happened.  Somehow though, he wondered if the spell taking longer to wear off was what really happened.

Giles turned back to his charges, and said, “Well, I suppose we can get on with reporting on last night.  Xander, you changed physically?”

“Uh,” Xander said, seeing as ‘he’d’ been inside the body, there wasn’t really a way to tell.

“Yes,” Willow supplied with certainty.  “Both of them did, Xander got a little shorter and turned into this Byakuya, Buffy was Amanda, completely.  Just like the demons all the kids turned into.”  Then she muttered under her breath, “Right down to the magnificent boobs.”

“That is most interesting,” Giles commented, and spent a moment going over something in his mind.  “Xander, did anything else remain of the possession other than the sword?”

“Well, I’ve got some vague personal memories, and last night is mostly vague, but some of the skills and knowledge are pretty clear, I believe.  I’m pretty certain I can speak Spanish, German and Japanese pretty well.  Especially Japanese because that was his native language,” Xander muttered, looking up to get his brain to access as much of the information.

“Xander-kun,” Buffy spoke up with a grin – Amanda spent quite some time in Japan. Willow watched with slightly jealous frown, while Giles just looked astonished as Buffy continued what they could only hear as gibberish, but contained enough rhythm to know it was a language – obviously Japanese.  Xander answered her in the same gibberish, two more sentences, one by each of the friends, of gibberish followed, before Buffy shifted back to English.  “Can you read and write it too?” she asked excitedly.

Xander looked up again, no doubt, Willow realized, trying out the symbols and how to write them in his head.  “Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Xander answered.

“Cool!  Me too!” Buffy said with an evil grin.

“That is quite remarkable,” Giles started, wanting to take off his glasses to put one of its paws in his mouth allowing to think.

Buffy stopped him though, when she continued, “This is going to take cheating on tests to a whole new level!”

Xander grinned cautiously, while Willow sighed, and Giles said, “What!?”

“Think of it!” Buffy continued with a huge grin, “Put some meaningless doodles on a paper, and some Japanese symbols in between, no teacher’ll be the wiser!”

“Buffy, I must protest,” Giles started greatly concerned, “Academic achievements can not be gained by cheating, nor would anyone want to.”

Willow sighed again, “Don’t worry, Giles.  You two aren’t smart enough to cheat off of each other.”

Giles nodded, and Buffy went, “Ah, dang it!”  Giles’ eyes widened at Buffy thought out loud pensively, “There’s got to be a way around that.  Xan, maybe we should teach Willow?”  Willow perked up at that, she was always in to learn more.

“Aw, I kinda like it that we know something she doesn’t,” Xander offered to that suggestion, making Willow glare at him.

“Yeah, that is fun, isn’t it?” Buffy agreed with a nod, and Willow added her to the glare.

Giles groaned, and took his glasses off, then started pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the head ache.  “How this world is still spinning is beyond me,” he grumbled under his breath, as Buffy continued her cheating schemes using Japanese.

*****

Xander walked back into his bedroom.  School was over, and the group had remained at the library to test out more what they all kept from the possession.  Super speedy healing, and thus immortality, hadn’t been part of it.  A small cut to her finger hadn’t healed up in front of everyone’s eyes, much to Buffy’s disappointment.  After that, they had done their homework in the library, and Buffy had started her daily training.  Xander had gotten a pizza that the four of them had shared after Buffy’s training.  Now he was back, having maneuvered around his drunk of a father.

He sat down on his bed and laid back.  The disappeared sword still bothered him.  He had put on a smile and continued onward in the library after it did its disappearing act, but it had bothered him nonetheless.  On the one hand, he was rather glad the sword was gone, so he didn’t have to worry about any nasty surprises.  On the other, there was some disappointment, but most importantly an unease, something didn’t seem entirely right.

It didn’t really matter, he told himself.  He closed his eyes for a moment; he was still a little tired.  He was confident he’d be at 100% if he got a good night’s rest by morning, but now he was still a little wiped from what the possession had put his body through.

Freezing cold.

Xander’s eyes shot open and he looked up at black clouds, or perhaps even smoke.  He jerked up right, and took in the scenery in disbelief as he stood up.  Lightning flashed up ahead, its thunder being drowned out by a much bigger thunder.  Up above, no more than some thirty odd meters or so, black soot and ash shot upward with an explosion, fiery orange lava spurting upward.  Xander himself stood on a ledge covered in freezing snow, and some twenty meters to his left a glowing river of lava rapidly flowed down the mountain.  Not much further to his right, there was another.  Lightning flashed again, and a small tornado settled down beyond the river of lava and twisted toward it, freezing a boulder solid.  It reached the river of lava and attempted to freeze it similarly.  Not surprisingly to anyone with a little knowledge of physics, a devastating explosion followed, ending the twister.  Lava sprang up with the explosion spraying about in a spherical fashion, and as it landed on the snow and instantly vaporized it, more explosions of water vapor followed.  Lightning and thunder flashed again.

“Comfy, don’t you agree?” a voice sounded, and Xander whirled around, giving him the view of the fire and ice volcanic hellhole on that side of him.  A figure stood there, a figure that seemed to be made of fire, or lava, or perhaps even orange plasma.  Vague features of a face were visible where it should be, except for the eyes, they were anything but vague. Twin cool blue orbs, that seemed like ice, served as the being’s eyes, and a little bit of freezing water vapor floated away from them.  The final two things that Xander could see were two tails, but being behind the body he couldn’t make out any details, except that they seemed to be moving of their own accord.

As lightning once more flashed and thundered overhead, Xander asked, “Who are you?”

The being grimaced, and became obviously more angry.  The tails suddenly snapping forth at waist-height attested to that as well; one was revealed to be of the fiery plasma, and had a narrow snake’s head, with eyes, tongue and fangs of ice, the other in contrast was made of ice, had an hyena’s head, with eyes of fire.  The snake’s head hissed at Xander’, while the hyena barked and then growled.  “You know who and what I am,” they said dangerously.

Xander considered for a moment; it couldn’t be.  It would also mean his sword wasn’t gone yet.  “But you can’t be; it should take years, no decades before a Death God gets to meet the Spirit Slayer in his mind,” Xander finally dared to observe, some, quite a lot actually, of Kuchiki Byakuya’s knowledge of Death Gods and their weapons filtering back to the fore of his mind.  Perhaps he had actually been repressing it for some reason.

The tails returned back to behind the man, and then seemed to be moving somewhat of their own accord, not mention snapping at each other.  “Yeah, well, they didn’t have a captain-level Death God possess them and make contact with their Spirit Slayers for them, did they?” asked the being with a flat grin.  “Oh, by the way, welcome to our mindscape.”

All of a sudden the avatar of Xander’s Spirit Slayer moved; practically flashed across the distance.  Before Xander could do anything but raise his eyelids the being’s fist slammed into his chin, and he was launched backward.  Pain blossomed throughout his jaw, and he heard a painful groan, that after a few moments of catching up he realized to be his own.  He slammed painfully to the cold ground, and felt heat from the close by lava assault the top of his head.  He had no chance to do anything about it though, as the being landed on him, and slammed another fist into his face, and another and another as it yelled, “You, were, going, to, give me, to the, Watcher!   A, piece of, your very soul, to examine!  Willow, even reminded, you!   What, friggin’, experiments, did, you think, he was, going, to do, you bastard!?  On ME!  Even if, he’s trustworthy, can you, trust, all the watchers, you piece of shit!?”

Xander’s face was a bruised mess by now, and Xander felt he’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson having sledge hammers for hands.  “Stop it!” he called partially afraid and fully hurting, aware of the two animal tails snapping at him from next to the avatar’s waist.

“Fuck you!” the embodiment of Xander’s blade called back, and continued his abuse.

“STOP IT!” Xander snarled, suddenly angry and lashed out with his fist – and disappeared into the fiery face without hitting the avatar.  Xander was only momentarily astonished, but then pulled the fist back and with a growl slammed both hands up, this time instinctively with something mental, something more than just a movement of his arm.  The hands hit this time, and the avatar was launched off of him.  The avatar twisted in the air and landed on his feet, and Xander got up.  “YOU DON’T HIT ME!” he yelled at the fire and ice being.

The avatar grinned at him, and said, “So, there’s a backbone in there somewhere after all, huh?”

“FUCK YOU!” Xander yelled back, seeing red.  He’d been the butt joke of fate, destiny, girls and his own father; he wasn’t going to become the butt joke of his own spirit as well.  He launched himself forward, actually managing to hit the being in the face.  He didn’t stop and pressed his attack, following it up with a flurry of punches.

“Hm, if only you showed this to that piece of shit father of yours, and kicked his ass instead, maybe you’d be less black and blue all the time,” the avatar mocked him as it blocked a punch.  A scream of rage came from Xander as he performed a devastating uppercut - thunder rolling again at the event: this time from the volcano letting out another explosion of lava.  The uppercut connected and with an actual grunt the avatar was launched into the air, Xander following to continue the assault.  The avatar came down, and its tails moved downward to absorb the impact and do more than land on it.  Immediately the tails pushed, making the avatar twist around, and then up.  Having made a full circle, the avatar moved up, and his right leg slammed into Xander’s chin, surprising the young man with the Avatar’s use of his animal tails.  With a groan Xander was launched into the air and slammed onto the ground, moaning again with the pain.

The avatar didn’t press his advantage this time, not physically at least, and instead said, “You disgust me.  Nearly a year Buffy’s here, for nearly a year you imagine yourself her protector, and what have you done in that near year?  Nothing, you’ve been sitting on your ass letting things pass by.  You never trained, you never worked to get better, never asked for training, never went to get it anywhere!  And why?”  The avatar switched to a winy voice, mock shivering in fear, he finished, “I don’t want to turn into my father.”

“I am /not/ like my father,” Xander snarled struggling to get up.

“Of course you’re not, that’s why you can train and become a fighter, and you don’t have to cower in the background,” the avatar snarled angrily.  Then more gentle, but still with a dangerous edge, “Tell me, are you going to waste me?”  Xander looked puzzled at the being, it had suddenly switched from heaping on more abuse, to asking rather serious questions with an almost benign tone.  The avatar ran out of patience and clarified, “Come on, Harris!  It was bad enough you sat on your ass when you had nothing, but now you have me! My knowledge, my power, are you going get off your ass, or are you going to toss me aside? Will you finally step up and actually protect your girls!?”

“How?” Xander asked him, uncertain.  “You know how quick a body even with the power of a captain depleted its strength, I probably can’t do a damn thing.  And we have no way to pop out of the body and be purely spiritual.”

“We’ll just have to remedy that, won’t we?” the avatar said forcefully, taking a few steps to stand right in front of him, looking fiercely into Xander’s eyes, the tails less snappy now.  “We’ll train, we’ll make sure we get the stamina and spirit force necessary to do everything from within a body.  We’ll have to train in every human art and martial art that’ll strengthen the spirit – Tai Chi, Raikiri, mediation, from books to the internet, we’ll try it. And to give the body the strength to handle the spirit, we’ll train it, every day, we’ll get up at six, if not five if it’s necessary, run, lift weights.  After school, all the time; and let’s not forget the Death God magic, and all of Kuchiki’s knowledge.”

“His memories are vague, and his knowledge, he didn’t have a photographic memory for me to inherit, I still have to relearn everything he knew, find it in my brain!” Xander answered, but much less vehemently, he was starting to warm up to the idea, but still hating the bastard that had tried to kick his ass – and some might say succeeded in doing it.  “Then I have to adapt it to a body.”

“Not after this, you’ll have access to all his knowledge through me,” the avatar said with a grin.

Xander remained silent for a few moments, and then with a determined look said, “Let’s do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” the avatar said with a growl that was accompanied by a bark from the hyena, a hiss from the snake, and several explosions from the volcano and thunder storm. The avatar turned around and started walking away.  Then he turned around and said, “You’ve shown me not to be a total wuss, Xander, that means you’ve earned my name.  It’s Ferissfenyur.  And somebody’s at the window.”

*****

That last statement jerked Xander out of his dream state, and sat up.  A knocking came across from him, a knocking on glass.  Xander looked at saw Willow gently tap the glass.  He quickly went over and opened the window.  “What are you doing here?” he asked as Willow crawled inside with a smile.  He hated it when Willow did this.  He had forbidden her once to do it unless it was an emergency, and even then he had wanted her to just toss pebbles against the window.  In order to get at his window on the second floor, Willow had to climb up a trellis on which a climbing plant was growing.  One slip, and she’d fall, possibly to her death. But, after once being at the receiving end of Xander’s father’s ire, Xander didn’t want her to go through that anymore either.  Willow had happily agreed, but when she felt she had to go to Xander’s, she went inside using the method that avoided Xander’s father ever knowing she was there.

“I came here to talk,” Willow said excitedly.  With Buffy as an actual honest to god female friend, and all the rest going on, they didn’t talk as often as they used to.  Through Jesse’s death and Xander’s crush on Buffy, a light rift had regrettably formed, even while she had a thing for him.  But now, they had something to tie them closer together again, perhaps closer than ever.  She stepped inside, and Xander closed the window behind her.  She turned around and said with a smile, “Your sword isn’t gone, is it?”

Xander looked astonished at her, and then asked, “H-how did you know?”

Willow’s grin brightened, and she explained, “If the magic couldn’t change your soul to make Captain Kuchiki’s Spirit Slayer, than it stands to reason it can’t destroy a piece of that soul either as it wears off.”  Willow smiled and then shrugged, “Besides, if the magic had worn off, it wouldn’t have disappeared, it would have turned back into the plastic sword it once was.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Xander said a little uncertain and Willow remained expectantly silent.

After a bit, Willow lost her patience, and said, “Well, come on!  Show it to me!”

“Oh, right,” Xander said, and then looked nervously around.  “Well, I haven’t actually tried getting it back yet after it disappeared.  So here goes.”  Willow frowned at that, and Xander held out his right hand, frowning for a moment thinking on how to get it back.  He settled for a part demand, part need somewhere in his mind, and suddenly the sword materialized in his hand, and he closed it around the hilt entirely.  He grinned as he looked at the gleaming blade, and felt the scabbard and the belt reform around his torso so the scabbard was on his back.  He hadn’t even realized it had gone from his back until now!

Willow looked at the weapon, gleaming in the dim bedroom light.  “Wow,” Willow said, stepping closer, and gently touched the side of the blade, feeling its cold surface, and something else too.  Probably its spiritual power, but she had no way of really knowing.  She looked away from it and smiled at Xander.  She asked him, “Xan, how come you knew the sword wasn’t gone, when you hadn’t summoned it back yet?”

“Uh . . .” Xander frowned and wondered how to explain this.  He settled for saying, “Would you believe we had a little conversation in my head?”

Willow’s smile broadened, and she nodded.  “Yes, the Death God that possessed you hinted at something like that.  What did you talk about?”

“About training,” Xander said, deciding to leave out the whole kicking each other’s ass thing – mostly his ass getting kicked, but he was already on planning on some payback after enough training. He was pretty sure that with increase in his spiritual strength as Ferissfenyur had put it, he’d be much better at fighting in there as well.  “About using this sword, about growing stronger.”

Willow’s eyes twinkled, and said, “To protect Buffy, right?”  And again time for Xander to look astonished.  “Let me show you, sit,” Willow said excitedly and sat down in a lotus position on the floor, Xander followed suit, placing the sword on his knees.  Willow fished inside the pocket of her jeans, and pulled out a small wax light.  She put the small white candle in a tin covering on the ground, and then put her hands on either side of it. Some five centimeters away and her hands curved, her hands had the wax light all but surrounded, and she started whispering something Xander couldn’t make out.  He bent forward a little though, to take in the candle fully.  A few moments later, the wax light was aflame, seemingly of its own accord.  Willow sat up straight again, pulling her hands away, and looking proudly at Xander.

“How did you do that?” Xander asked astonished, examining the light, for an irrational moment wondering if it had been a trick.

“I’ve been practicing for a while now,” Willow said both proud and conspiratorially. “I’ve wanted to help Buffy with more than just reading books, you know?”  She blushed lightly as Xander looked directly at her.  “Last night, when I saw her die, or Amanda die, or – you know – that was horrible.  I’ve been practicing it every moment that I've had  the chance today and I finally got it right.”

“Why fire?” Xander asked, examining the candle again.

“Burns vamps,” Willow said, shrugging and Xander looked back up again.  “I know, too small, but you gotta start with baby steps, right?”  Xander nodded with a smile.  “I wanted to ask, but, uhm, Giles keeps any real magic books away from just about anybody – that magic stuff the Death God did; can you do it?  I mean . . .”

Xander looked up at her, and then sighed.  “When I was done with our conversation, you know . . .” Xander indicated the katana on his knees, “. . . a lot of the Death God’s stuff has gotten much clearer.  And Will, I’m pretty sure most of the exhaustion I felt, came from casting those spells while in a body – even with his level of spirit force . . . magical power . . . mana, you know?”  Willow nodded in understanding and gestured for Xander to continue, “And he was like . . . Mr. Top of the Line.  That magic was developed for spirits, beings that are all energy.  If you and I, or even the average magical user tried to cast those things, while in a body that is, it’d put us in a coma, or even kill us.”

“Oh,” Willow said a little deflated.

“But, you know, I am planning on modifying the stuff for the use of people inside a body,” Xander said, indeed planning on it, and wanted to lift Willow’s spirits.

Willow perked up, and looked amazed at Xander, “You can do that?”

Xander frowned, and then replied, “I think so, with the help of the sword.  And you know, if I succeed, and I think it’s safe enough for you, I’ll teach you.  Until then, you could practice human magic.”  Willow looked up, a little deflated.  Xander smiled at her, and added, “There should be other sources than Giles, right?  Books, libraries, the internet, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I could look around . . . maybe even try magic from totally different schools, philosophies and religions?” Willow asked with wide excited eyes, as if she had found a new toy.  “And maybe even find a way inside Giles’ vault.”

Xander frowned at that, and said, “But promise me you’ll be careful, okay, Will?  You learn everything there is to learn, from the ground up, okay?  And not just the flashy spells but also the less flashy ones, and all the dangers of this stuff.  I don’t think Giles would just lock books away for the heck of it.  Hell, knowing Giles, he probably thinks that’s a punishable offense; so there must some danger about it.  And saving Buffy’s life, just to exchange it for yours, just isn’t worth it, you know?  Hm, maybe you should ask someone to look after you whenever you try something that might be dangerous.  I’m offering.”

Willow looked at him, her smile slowly broadening.  She nodded, and then held out her right hand.  “All right, I’ll ask you for help, and you mine, if we need it during training. I’ll learn everything there is to learn about magic, from the ground up, be safe, and grow stronger, be the best, if you become strongest and be the best at using that sword as you can possibly be, and the Death God’s magic too.  To protect Buffy, deal?”

Xander didn’t need to think about that one.  “To protect Buffy,” he said, grabbing his longest friend’s hand.  Shaking it, he added, “Deal.”

After a moment to let the momentous occasion of the birth of their pact pass, they let go of each other’s hands, and Willow said, “I need to get home before mom and dad find out.”

“Sure,” Xander said, and got up as Willow blew out little candle, and took it as she herself got up.  He walked over to his window and opened it.  As Willow started climbing up, he said softly, “Be careful.”

“I am,” Willow said, and climbed out on the rack with the climbing plant.  “See ya tomorrow, Xan,” Willow told him with a smile and then started climbing down.

“See you tomorrow,” Xander returned the goodbye, and waited with closing the window until after Willow was down on the ground and on her way back home.

*****

Two weeks later

Dirty brown hair framed her face.  She looked timidly around, keeping the rags that made up her clothes - a barely holding together skirt that reached her ankles and white blouse - tightly wrapped around her, but not because it was cold – no, she was hiding something precious beneath the folds.  The dirt road she walked along, filled with holes and mud was the main road of a town.  The town itself, was a mixture of wood and stone houses, mostly a stone foundation with wood on top of them.  Buffy didn’t quite understand, she was pretty sure this was a scene from the past, yet here she was walking through it and it felt too familiar to be the past.  She felt horrendously dirty too, the smudges on her skin, and smell of sweat, dirt, and even urine that clung to her, and more so her clothes felt disgusting.  Yet at the same time it felt natural – she wasn’t due for a scrub and barely useful clothes washing in the cold river for another day or two.

She walked past a horse-drawn carriage, the smell of rotting flesh assaulting her nose. This time if felt horrible to her entire being, yet still a part of her had smelled it before – which didn’t seem to make any sense to Buffy.  She was pretty sure she never saw a pile of plague-ridden corpses on a carriage, or at least wasn’t meant to have seen it.  Two men in heavy cloaks and some gauze covering her faces unceremoniously tossed another body on top of the pile.

Buffy quickly walked on, and checking back and forth to see if no one saw, she checked on her precious cargo.  The lump of bread’s smell was making her mouth water and reminding her of her hunger.  The smell was easily overpowering that of her dirtied clothes, even though it probably shouldn’t.  She just couldn’t wait any longer – she knew she should wait till she was in her hideout, but she just had to have at least one bite right now.  She quickly tore a chunk of bread free and stuffed it in her mouth, hungrily starting to chew.

“STOP, THIEF!”

Buffy recognized the voice instantly, it was the baker’s she’d stolen the bread from. Panicked she looked around, hoping against hope it wasn’t him after all, or he was shouting about some other thief.  The baker though, came running straight at her, a vicious wooden stick with a bulb at the end in his hands.

Buffy immediately started running, breathing heavily, people looking after her.  She could feel the heavy foot steps of the medieval baker getting closer.  Tears sprung in her eyes as she noticed no matter how much she tried she couldn’t get more speed out of her body.

“Please!” she cried out desperately, looking back at the nearly on her baker.  “I just need something to eat!  I’m sorry.  I’m starving, just let me . . .”  She shouldn’t have looked back; she trailed off as she stumbled over a stone and tumbled to the ground.  She twisted around and put her hands in front of her in a futile gesture to ward off the baker.  “Please, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and pain blossomed in her torso as the baker’s foot found her belly.  She didn’t even manage to cry out with the immense pain as the air in her lungs rushed out with the impact.  A moment later, a much sharper pain jabbed in her side.  With gritted teeth she let out a gurgle, while her entire body went rigid.

Then another even sharper pain, this one to the back of her head – but it never developed like the first two impacts on her body; this pain simply drowned in nothingness.

Blackness, it might not seem like that different from nothingness, but to someone who awoke from the latter into the former, the difference was immense.  It was a relief, but only for a moment.  Things were touching her body, things that felt wrong.  The smell of death and rotting flesh was stronger now than she’d ever smelled.  Her brain somehow put the things together, and she realized where she was – in a grave, in a mass plague-victim grave. Revulsion and terror like she never felt before assaulted, and she started pushed herself to what she thought was up.  She clawed, pushed and scratched in the direction, trying to get the bodies out of her way – rotting skin and flesh more than once let go and stuck to her fingers and nails.  She screamed, as she struggled, harder when dirt and then more dirt came falling down on top of her.  How she managed it, she did not know, as it felt like dirt and dead bodies – maybe zombies or vampires – were trying to squeeze her to death, starting with forcing air from her lungs, but she somehow felt no more dirt at the tips of her fingers.  She reached the ground!  Scratching, pulling and pushing with increasing panic, yet hope, she forced herself up.  Up!  Up!  Out!  Out!

That was it!  The ground gave away, fresh air . . .

No fresh air!  Still trapped!  Buffy trashed, dug, and clawed.  The ground felt like sheets and covers now, but they were no less constricting her lungs.  Finally they parted away, and she desperately forced her head past the bed covers, and thankfully relatively fresh air entered her lungs.  She didn’t stop, continuing to claw and kick until she was completely free from the covers, which were now mostly on the ground.  She scooted backward, only stopping against the head of the bed and the wall it was standing against.  She drew up her knees in front of her, wrapping her hands around them, and shivered as she slowly calmed down.

It wasn’t until a while later that she had processed what happened.  She had had a nightmare, but not just any nightmare: this was Amanda’s first death.  She shivered, thanking god she wasn’t Amanda, and this was just a nightmare – but also worrying what this could mean.

Trying to get back to sleep proved futile.  After checking her alarm clock, which showed it was just before half past five, she decided she might as well put in another patrol. And so she dressed and climbed out of her window.

*****

Buffy was strolling past the last cemetery on her patrol for the night, half her mind on her surroundings and any signs of vampires or anything else for that matter, and the other half on the terrifying vision she had gotten to experience in her nightmare.

It was ironic, Buffy reflected.  Being possessed by Amanda for a night was the best thing to happen to her since becoming the Slayer.

She didn’t even notice it until the middle of last week, after conversing with Xander all day in a number of different languages, the restart of her sword lessons with Giles – and promptly leaving Giles behind and continuing to master Amanda’s skills herself, watcher and thus Slayer training may be something, but was pathetic in comparison to 1200 years of continuous sword improvements of an Immortal.  Acing her French test with ease was a lovely perk.  Yes, she’d been using Amanda’s leftover knowledge almost non-stop.  So much knowledge, so many languages, so much experience, so many skills – even if but a little remained, it was still more than a human could learn in a single lifetime.

Amanda had lived for over a twelve hundred years.  In all that time she had lived, she had seen, done, and experienced so many things.  Many were very terrible and awful things. A few were sparkling gems of joy and happiness.  But above all that, what Buffy cherished was her confidence.

Every time that Buffy tapped into the remnants of Amanda, beyond the skills of language, swordsmanship, etiquette, thievery, and seduction, she had an abundant and overwhelming sense of confidence in herself.  And that confidence is what Buffy felt every time she spoke with Xander in Japanese, what she felt every time she dueled with Giles during training.

Most, especially Xander and Willow, seemed to think that just because she was the Slayer, that she was some kind of role model super heroine, that she always knew exactly what to do in every situation and how to save the day without even trying.  Although that had taken a hit after she got Willow captured falling for a trap, it had steadily returned.  Only Giles seemed to be immune to that.  She tried to live up to the ideal, she really did most days. But she was still just a 16 year old girl.

Sixteen year old girls aren’t /supposed/ to be responsible for saving the world! Sixteen-year-old-girls are supposed to be enjoying life, dating boys, having slumber parties, sweet sixteens, and getting ready to grow up.  It wasn’t fair that she got this when there were probably tons of people with a lot more knowledge and experience and passion that wanted to take her place!

Buffy Summers was the most /un/-confident sixteen year-old-girl that there was.  Oh, she made it seem like she was – or at least thought she managed it quite well – but it was really just a bluff.  Amanda’s confidence had stopped being a bluff a millennium ago; hers was genuine – living that long and becoming ever more powerful had a habit of doing that.  It, in fact, got most old Immortals killed – so confident it became arrogance, believing they had already won when they faced another Immortal in combat.  One moment of carelessness, of taking things too easy, moving slowly, or showing off, and their heads came off.

When she learned how tapping into Amanda’s knowledge let her feel a thousand years worth of pure feminine confidence all at once . . . Buffy really should have known this wouldn’t be a free ride, especially not on the Hellmouth, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.  She shivered again as the memory of the nightmare flashed through her.  If she ever heard the words “Black Plague” again, it’d be too soon.

“Oh look,” a creepy sing-song voice called out suddenly from the darkness.

Buffy froze, turning towards the too-familiar voice, facing the woods and focusing entirely upon the here and now.  Damn, she’d spent too much time wallowing in her nightmare induced terrifying thoughts, and paid too little mind to her surroundings.  Now she was in a real terrifying situation.

“The big bad wolf has gone and put on its sheepskin and now all the other wolves have come to eat it all up like a lost little lamb,” Drusilla stepped out of the shadows, a whole hoard of demonic glowing eyes behind her.  “Whatever shall it do?”

Buffy chose not to reply to the question, instead she pulled out her stake and eyeballed the odds stacked against her.  She swallowed the growing nervousness in the top of her chest.

“You killed my Spike,” the insane master vampire spoke, suddenly and disturbingly lucid.  “Now it’s your turn, Slayer!”

*****

Xander stepped out into the cool, early morning air.  He took a deep breath, and smiled.  After some Tai Chi exercises he came out to do some running, as he had vowed to do two weeks earlier.  Surprising him, though, was that it didn’t feel like a chore, not anymore.  The first few days, but after that he found he was looking forward to Tai Chi and the running.  He had noticed it work too, he felt fitter, could run longer before having to slow down, and the exercises with his sword, actually using spiritual energy seemed to go easier as well.

So, Xander started off on his morning run, heading right, toward the park and main cemeteries.  Best thing was, it was too close to dawn for any vampire to still be braving the world outside, and too early for any demons who could brave the day to be up and about – like most humans, except the occasional other runner Xander had come across.  Four days earlier, he had met one particular brave vampire though, but as it was all alone, Xander had a magnificent mystical sword, and it was stupid as vampires were, perhaps more so if it wasn’t bravery that had it out and about so early in the morning. Suffice it to say, it did not last long.

Thus Xander was running happily along the pavement, until he reached the entrance to the park, and ran along the dirt path.  He ran along with the pleasant tingling sensation of a good workout throughout his body, until he heard a commotion.  He paused his run, listened carefully, hearing voices and changed course when the voice stopped.  The only thing he heard now was a mumbo jumbo of sounds, that only cleared up into the sounds of a fight as he got closer.

His heart nearly stopped when he got close enough to see what was going on.  Buffy was fighting vamps, lots of them.  Possibly as many as twenty, and it was obvious there were simply too many of them for Buffy to handle.  He raced forward again, noticing one vamp attacking Buffy from behind while she was struggling with a particularly strong vampire. Xander jumped out of the bushes into the clearing, his Spirit Slayer materializing in his hand with barely a thought.  Just as the vamp was about to put the hurt on Buffy, the mystical sword smoothly cut through its neck, and it disintegrated.  Xander landed, turning around, and stood back to back with Buffy.  The Slayer had already been startled and had managed to kick the strong vampire away, without killing him, she relaxed a little, only to grow more anxious, when she found it was Xander.

“Hey, Buffy, cavalry is here,” Xander commented as he eyed the vampires, who were returning the favor, not quite sure how to deal with the new arrival. “Cavalry is a rookie with a mystical sword he only just got, but it’s here.”

The concerned friend part of Buffy wanted to ask what he was doing here, yell that he should be safe at home, and tell him to run, the warrior part of Buffy though, overrode them, realizing there were more pressing concerns.  “Thanks, but if you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Buffy told him with a smirk – always keep your enemies off center.  Back to back, did feel somewhat comforting, even if it was only so she wouldn’t die alone as she had been expecting with such number advantages.  “Thought the sword was gone,” she did ask though.  She simply felt Xander shrugging.

“Oh, how touching, the little reaper would like to guide his precious Slayer to the afterlife,” Drusilla singsonged, followed by a deranged cackle that made the hairs on everyone present’s neck stand up – including the vampires.  Drusilla seemed to return to reality again for a moment, as she snarled, “Kill them both!”

The vampires attacked en masse.  Buffy grabbed the one nearest, to her left, and tossed it to her right, where it slammed into another vampire keeping them both away.  A quick step out from their back to back position, in tandem with a rapid jab of her stake and a vampire turned to dust.  Another vamp slammed his foot in the arm holding her stake, but determination made sure she kept a hold of it.  She returned to kick at the vamp, and send it staggering back.  Another vamp attacked with a quick punch, but she deflected it and immediately locked it up away from its chest.  Even as her stake slammed home, and the vamp dusted, another vamp’s fist hit her square in the face, and she staggered under the force. The numbers game even now was getting to them.

Next to her, Xander was giving it his best, but it was obvious he was not on the level of vampires yet.  A vampire punch landed on his face, but being against Buffy’s back made sure he remained upright.  The slice with his sword forced the vamp to back off, but another one from the side attacked.  Xander grabbed his stake from inside his jacket with his left hand, while slicing his Zanpakutō towards his right to keep a vampire at bay.  The stake landed in the vampire’s shoulder making it jerk back in some pain, then it snarled angrily.

Xander ducked underneath a punch he didn’t see, realizing his fight and awareness training with his sword were paying off.  The punching arm made an enticing target, and a moment later the weapon sliced it off just under the elbow.  The vampire screamed in pain and staggered back, but then froze in shock as the severed part of his arm turned to dust.   Severed limbs did not turn to dust!  Not unless the vampire was killed.  Vampires were supposed to be able to reattach the arm with a little sewing and watch it heal over some time. His shock cost him its un-life, as Xander wasted no time impaling his sword into the easy target’s heart.

As that one turned to dust, a vampire with ash blonde hair gave Xander a bone shattering punch to his jaw, making Xander stagger.  Lucky for Xander it didn’t actually do any bone shattering.  Forced toward another vampire, Xander had to leave the punch unretaliated for now.  He swung the sword horizontally at chest level and as the new vampire jumped back to avoid it, he turned slightly and moved a bit and jabbed his stake towards its heart.  The vampire simply deflected the strike though.  Xander stuck his sword straight out to catch an advancing vampire into its stomach.  It screamed and staggered back off of the sword and then dropped to the floor, continuing to scream and holding his wound, which obviously hurt a lot more than it should.

Xander felt Buffy stagger away from him from an especially powerful punch, and decided reducing numbers against them was important – especially as the strong ash-blond vamp from before was coming at him from the side again.  Taking a few steps, he sliced off the head of the vampire with the belly wound.  As it turned to dust he found himself surrounded by four of the significantly diminished vampires.  He saw Buffy in the same predicament but with six or seven vamps, and knew that if they didn’t link back up soon they’d be finished.  Deciding it was time to pull his own particular brand of kamikaze attack back out the closet, he simply charged straight toward her, slicing the sword back and forth to open a path for him.

One vampire backed away to Xander’s left, and he jumped up.  Scared, the vamp backed away from the blade coming for its neck, that was good, so Xander had almost a free path toward Buffy: only a vampire preoccupied with the Slayer was in his way.  Too bad for Xander, the ash-blond vampire once again showed it was the toughest and smartest of the bunch.  It had charged and now jumped and kicked powerfully at Xander’s right wrist.  With a yell of pain he let go of the mystical sword, and it flew onward.

Buffy had dispatched another vampire to wherever vampires go when they die, kicked another away from her, and punched another in the jaw.  She brought the stake around, but the vampire move at the last moment, making the stake embed itself in its shoulder instead of its heart.  She jerked it back, being only narrowly in time to raise her arms up to block a powerful forward kick – still, it hurt like hell, her arms ringing with the impact.

She gritted her teeth, for a moment with Xander at her back, she had dared hoped they might both get out of this alive.  How come Drusilla had known she was out so early in the morning anyway?  Oh, right, she was psychic, wasn’t she?  Stupid psychic crap.

A reflex, fueled by something in the corner of her mind, made her grab up, and to her light surprise she was holding Xander’s weapon.  “USE IT!” came Xander’s yell.  She wanted to protest she didn’t need it and he did, but saw Xander yank his stake from a vampire’s lung, elbow it to the ground, and then while falling down on top of it, dust the vampire firmly. While he got up, he pulled out a cross to join the stake.  Maybe he could handle himself, but even if he didn’t, the only way to help him was to thin the horde.

She moved gracefully, shifting the sword to her left hand, avoiding a particular powerful running punch and sliced off the offending arm, which promptly turned to dust. Shifting the sword back to her right, she twirled around and severed the vampire’s head. With a fluid motion, twisted around, and with a particular vicious idea of a defense she held the sharp end forward.  The vampire that attacked there, sliced its fist in two parts, then its arm.  Buffy jabbed the sword down into the ground, cutting further up the arm, and jabbing on it for good measure too.  The vampire screamed in pain, pulling back, part of the split open arm, including the entire hand dusted, leaving a nasty bleeding dusty stump.

Buffy was rather surprised as she was already aware of another vampire attacking behind and moved in for the kill.  She didn’t know whether it was the mystical blade, whether it enhanced or let her tap into heretofore untapped Slayer’s potential, or whether it was just remnants of Amanda’s far superior skill with swords, or a combination of all three, but she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth; she had become a dance of death.  On one leg, already twirling around, she impaled the vampire in its heart, turning it to dust, and finishing the twirl a vampire lost his head, and with it, his cohesion.

A smooth, quick motion to her right, while stepping, allowed her to bring the blade down toward a vampire, who brought up his arms defensively while trying to back away. Wrong move, for the Spirit Slayer sliced through the vampire’s arms like a hot knife through butter.  One turned to dust, the other was cut half-way and useless, with the vampire screaming in unnatural pain, unsuccessfully trying to cradle his arms.

Buffy ducked low, a kick going over her and she already twisted around.  Her initial step back had made her move to the right place, to get close enough, and to entice the vampire to kick.  His other leg got severed halfway above the knee, and as it dusted it fell screaming in pain to the floor.  A quick jump forward - which was now toward the just felled vampire - made her avoid a vampire’s swipe.  A quick jab downward ended the downed vampire’s screams and un-life.

She turned back, a hard strike forward impaled a vampire in the heart, and he joined his comrades twirling to the floor.  A crescent kick backward found a vampire in the chin and launched him away from her.  When her leg was back on the ground, she ducked underneath a punch from another vampire, and speared the mystical sword sharply up, through its heart and head.  Fluttering dust followed.

What had been seven or eight, was soon reduced to three.  It was then that Drusilla chose to join the fight, unleashing her hypnotizing power on Buffy.  She had faced both Lothos’ and the Master’s though, and wouldn’t fall for it again.  Still, fighting off the weakened vampiress’ psychic onslaught was enough of a distraction for one vampire to kick the sword from her hand.  As she gasped in pain and grasped her hurt wrist, the sword chunked onto the sandy ground.  A moment later the two other vampires tackled her to the floor and held her down by her arms and shoulders.

“Damn you,” Buffy snarled as she struggled to no avail. “I hope you all choke on my blood.”

“Ooh, the stars are bright and happy tonight,” Drusilla muttered as she sauntered over, her dress flowing hypnotically in the slowly lightening sky.  The third vampire that had kicked the sword out of Buffy’s hand bared his fangs and produced its claws.

“Time to die, bitch,” he snarled, moving his claws down to Buffy’s neck, intent on leaving the healing Slayer blood for his hurt mistress who stood smiling over Buffy head.

Xander in the meantime, had lost his stake, even if he had hurt the three vampires dealing with him before they had gotten rid of it.  Falling down after a kick, he raised his left hand holding the cross, even as another vamp grabbed him by his other shoulder and arm like Buffy.  The third vamp was at Xander’s hand, scrambling up from where Xander had kicked him down.  The vamp approaching the cross flinched for a moment, then chuckled sinisterly, “Do you really that little cross is going save you?”

Xander wasn’t listening to the vamp, he had heard Buffy’s curse, and was watching her predicament.  He had to do something, but what!?  Instinctively he searched for the separated piece of his soul, and found the weapon lying just a bit beyond Buffy.  He dropped the cross, and reached his left hand toward it, and demanding it come to him, needing it.  The Spirit Slayer suddenly jumped up, flying rapidly end over end, and sliced smoothly through the head and upper torso of the vampire about to kill Buffy.

Buffy looked astonished as the katana flipped rapidly by her head, and cut through the vampire about to slice her neck open with its claws. She watched astonished as the head and upper torso started to peel sideways, but it never got the chance to finish: a part of the heart had been cut in half as well.  The vampire dusted, and Buffy lifted her head, watching the sword flip through the air onward – a small part of her annoyed she got vampire dust on her clothes again.  She watched as the blade smoothly flew into Xander’s hand, in the perfect position for him to simply yank the sword backward to slice through the neck of the vampire that was about to sink its fangs into Xander’s neck.  “I want one,” she muttered in astonishment.

Buffy, and the vampires still near her, including Drusilla, watched as Xander made use of the other vampires’ surprise.  He twisted around, and cut the leg off the vampire that had been holding him.  It let go as it screamed, sinking to its remaining knee, holding the remains of his other leg.  Buffy watched as Xander turned while getting to his knees, and then stabbed the sword forward as he jumped up, getting the third vampire trying to attack in its heart.  As it dusted, Xander turned around, and with a two handed strike downward, severed the head of the one-legged vampire.

Then, with a storm of fury on his face, Xander came rapidly marching over.  The vampires holding Buffy panicked and let her go.  The left one suddenly grabbed the other, and tossed him toward Xander as she – for the vampire was female – turned around and ran. The tossed vampire didn’t have long to live, and Buffy got up, instantly turning around.

“Damnit!” she cursed, as Xander arrived next to her. “Drusilla got away,” she said, scanning the trees but finding no trace of the deranged vampire mistress.

Xander looked incredulously at Buffy, and said, “Shouldn’t that be, ‘Thank god, we’re alive and my hot best friend didn’t even get his sexy ass disfigured in the process?’”

Buffy blinked, looked at him, and gave an embarrassed shrug. Then she realized something, “Hey, what about my sexy ass?”

Xander looked deadpan at her, and answered, “You’re the Slayer, it’d heal.”  Buffy crossed her hands across her chest, huffed indignantly and pouted.

Xander grinned and smoothly slid his Zanpakutō into the sheath on his back, which promptly, along with the blade, disappeared.  Buffy watched it happen, and realized just how damn useful that was; she’d never be without a weapon, and she could take it anywhere.  “I /sooo/ want one,” she said with wide eager eyes still trained on where the sword had disappeared.

“You’re not getting mine,” Xander told her, seeking her eyes.

Buffy gave him her best puppy dog eyes, and uttered pitifully, “Aw.”

Xander didn’t let it show, but he hated that a small part of him was actually debating giving it to her.  She just looked so pitifully cute, not to mention that sexy tongue plainly visible in a perfect ‘o’ mouth.  Curse his teenage male hormones!

*****

Same time

Sewers

Drusilla cursed and spat and moaned and wailed as she stumbled her way through the underground labyrinth of the Sunnydale sewer system.  Spike hadn’t ever let her leave the warehouse before, unless it was for something special and he always took care that he never left her side so he could protect her.  Ever since Prague, she’d been awfully weak . . .

Suddenly, just as she entered the warehouse district, coincidentally just as she was passing the tunnels that would lead to the Bronze, Mrs. Edith began to sing to her in a whispering melody that almost couldn’t be heard.

Stopping in place, the insane vampiress seer swayed back and forth for a minute or two, before her eyes snapped open and a mischievous and deviously content grin crossed her porcelain features.  She had just had a vision, though she herself would use more colorful terms to describe it.

Instead of going back to the warehouse where she would be safe until the big bad Slayer found her, she stumbled down the tunnel leading towards the Bronze, following the trailing whisper that spoke of a new daddy, a new and more loyal Spike, a way of getting her family all back.

All to find her Hobbit in the Night . . .

*****

Meanwhile, Xander was walking Buffy back to her house.  Thankfully, despite this being California, there was still some time until the sun fully rose, so there was no rush.

Nevertheless, the hardest part of any conversation is starting one.  Although it helps if you’re a couple of teen heroes that get a real kick out of conversing in flawless Japanese.

“So, Xander, what exactly are you doing out and about at five in the AM?” she asked. “And come to think of it, I thought that sword had disappeared!”

“Well... technically, it did,” he stalled, while silently glad he was already sweating from exercise so she wouldn’t see the cold sweat he was now feeling.

“I meant permanently,” she scowled at him, “And don’t avoid the question!”

“I was saving one of my best friends, if it’s any of your concern,” he teased back.

“You know what I mean,” her scowl deepened. “Before the vampires.  Because if you really did come out for the sole reason to help me with Dru’s ambush that only happened a few seconds before you showed up, I’m going to have to recheck you for stalker vibes and make sure that you can’t go out and do something stupid.  Like patrol on your own without any back-up.  I’m the Slayer, Xan, not you.  It’s my job to patrol. Plus, even with your sword, which don’t think you’re getting out of explaining that by the way, you aren’t strong enough to handle a bunch of vamps by yourself.  I can.”

“Yeah, OK, I was running, all right?  Happy now?  I was running,” Xander huffed.

“From what?” Buffy pouted in concern.

Xander raised an eyebrow at the blonde’s apparent thought process.

“OK, I think we’ve both been on the Hellmouth too long if your first assumption is that I got up early for the sole benefit of having something chase me until I came across you fighting a bunch of vamps.  Geez Buff!  I was running for exercise.  You know, early-morning jogging?  Admittedly it is a skill that I am working on honing so I can better run away from certain... things, but in this instance, no, I was running just to run, Buff.”

“Oh, uh . . . oops?” she shrugged sheepishly.

He waved it off. “Like I said, we’ve both been on the Hellmouth too long.  What were you doing up?  It’s early for the rest of the world, but I’m pretty sure Giles doesn’t make you patrol until sunrise.”

She shrugged, no longer smiling and replied shortly, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?” he frowned with concern.

“Never mind that, tell me about the sword.  It disappeared in front of our eyes and now all of a sudden, a week later, you’re swinging it around killing vampires with it.  It never did change back, did it?  It’s still that... what did Willow call it again?  Oh right, Soul Slayer?”

Xander sighed and weighed the pros and cons within a second.  Giles might be Buffy’s Watcher, but even he knew that there were some things that she was still keeping from him.  Some of them were things she had confided to him and Willow about, others were things she hadn’t told anybody about, but he knew anyway.  Buffy could be trusted.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he answered. “Although Spirit Slayer is better name for it; it slays all kinds of spirits, not just souls.”

“So?” she prodded.

“Like Willow said, it’s not just a sword, it’s a piece of my soul, the more dangerous parts anyway, made into a living, spiritual weapon.  Hence the killing vampires part,” he began. “Turns out that the guy I dressed as, Kuchiki Byakuya, was a Shinigami Captain, Shinigami translated as . . .”

“Death God,” she interrupted, reminding him she could speak Japanese as well as he.

“Right.  Well, there are only a one or /maybe/ two ranks of power above Captain in the system of rank according to the Shinigami government.  Byakuya could even match with the rank above his, but he was satisfied with his position and did not seek power for power’s sake.  But that also means, I found out the day after I visited you guys, that I have all of his knowledge and experience.  The power didn’t stay, but then again you’re no longer an Immortal either, so there ya go.”

“Night after I showed up at the Library and the sword disappeared, I did something that should’ve been impossible.  I spoke to the spirit of my Soul Slayer,” he told her.

Buffy pouted again, confused. “How does that even work, if the sword is a part of your soul, then wouldn’t you just basically be talking to yourself?”

Xander shrugged, then said, “Not exactly.  It’s sorta like when Native Americans, gotta be politically correct otherwise Willow will throw a fit, meditate and commune with their spirit animals, or when Australians go on Walkabout until they ’meet themselves’.  Sort of communicating with a part of yourself that normally you’re not aware of.  Plus, Soul Slayers are separate from the soul, but still apart of it.  It’s this whole existential thing, I don’t think too much about it.  Makes my head hurt.”

“Mine too,” she confessed, rubbing her temples.

“Anyway, a Shinigami only meets the spirit of their Zanpakutō after maybe a full century or two of having it and meditating with it and fighting with it.  Then, after that, they’re supposedly allowed to learn the name of their weapon, which allows for the next stage of development.”

“Did you learn the name of yours?” she couldn’t help asking.  He nodded. “Well?”

He shook his head and said, “Sorry Buff.  It’s private.  This isn’t just any favorite stake or specially made crossbow.  Not to mention, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, names have power.  And you don’t go around saying the name of a weapon with this much power casually, if you know what I mean.”

She didn’t, but said nothing about it.  Just nodded her head as they walked along.

“So, running?” she asked after about ten paces.

He shrugged again. “Hard to explain in a way that won’t make you angry, or me sound like some kind of wuss.”

“Come on,” she whined.

“Oh all right.  I’m training myself,” Xander said. “To be honest, I’m not sure why it never occurred to me before this, but from the day you got here and I learned about vamps and demons and the Hellmouth, I could have been training to get stronger, faster, and joining you in working with Giles.  I may never be /as/ strong and fast, but the better I am, the better my chances of survival are!  Oh, and I’ve been training myself to use a sword based on Byakuya’s left over knowledge.”

“What was that last part?” Buffy deadpanned.

“I’ve been training myself to use a sword,” he said casually while dedicatedly not looking in her direction at all.

“Want a sparring partner?” she asked, just as casually.

“Huh?!” he did a double-take.

“You said it yourself,” she replied, “The better you, and heck even Willow are, the better your chances of survival as you apparently are no longer going to jet at the concept of working out, and after a year, you’re clearly not going to shun me because of all the demons and vampires that attack.

“Plus, I’ve left Giles in the dust as far as sword skills, and you’re still learning so you can at least get better.  He keeps falling back into basic fencing habits.  Amanda learned original swordplay, no fancy moves, no flashy techniques.  You pick up your sword and you cut him then you kill him.  It!  I meant it,” she flushed and looked away.

“Nightmares, huh?” he asked after a minute of silence.

She looked up at him, startled, but didn’t deny anything.

“Me too,” was all he said.

“But what are you doing running in the middle of the night, though, Xan!  It’s dangerous at night, you should know!” Buffy said, still concerned for her friend.

“It’s not in the middle of the night, Buff,” Xander said with a reassuring smile, “It’s close to sunrise.  Vamps don’t dare to stay out this late, and the demons are still asleep like most humans. This is the safest time.”

Buffy thought about a minute, and realized he was right, feeling the icy grip concern had around her heart ease up.  “Please be careful,” she pleaded.

“Careful is my middle name, don’t worry,” Xander reassured her again, and Buffy nodded.

“I thought it was Lavelle?” she asked with an impish grin.

“I’m gonna kill Willow for letting that slip,” he said with a groan.

“Oops,” Buffy said, mortified, now remembering Willow had sworn not to tell anyone including Xander she knew his middle name.

They walked another block before either of them said anything else.

“Willow know?” she asked.  He nodded.

“She wants to learn the demon killing magic that Kuchiki used that night.  I made her promise to learn earth-bound magic first and to make sure she learned it safely, no shortcuts first.  Sides, I don’t think I could do it, much less teach any of it to her.”

“What time do you go running most days?” Buffy asked him as they got to her street.

“Wake up about 5AM, do stretching and so forth for about half an hour and eat a light breakfast, then I run to the park, do some sword and martial arts training, then I run some more, do some more stretching, then I run back and take a shower just in time to get ready for school.  I plan on catching up on sleep in History and Free Period.  Then, usually, seeing as we haven’t yet had a big research party since Halloween, I do most of my martial arts and sword training in the afternoon, while Willow works with reading up on magic and helps me with homework, then we meet you at the Bronze, do a quick sweeping patrol, then I do easy exercises; push-ups, sit-ups, strength training and those sorts of things.”

“How about I join you?” she offered.  He just smiled and nodded.  He wondered about signs as it just so happened that at that moment, the sun came up over the horizon, directly behind the blonde Slayer’s head.

*****

Since their agreement, Xander and Willow had begun walking to school together.  Normally that would be quite a hike for him as they lived in completely different parts of town, but since he was running in the mornings anyway, he didn’t mind that so much these days.

When he popped up on her balcony at 7AM on the dot, she briefly wondered about the grin that was occupying his face.  Then she didn’t have to wonder as he blurted out the reason the moment she opened the doors for him.

“I ran into Buffy this morning, we dusted some vamps that had been trying to ambush her, she saw me use my sword, and I had to tell her everything,” he said all in one breath, then started gasping. “I swear, I don’t know, how you, do that, Willow,” he gasped between heaving breaths.

“Greater lung capacity,” she replied shortly, then asked, “Buffy knows?  About . . . well, about everything?  Everything everything?”

He just nodded, still getting his breath back, but he managed, “All except our pact to keep her safe.”

“OK, how’d she take it?  Is she gonna tell Giles?”  He shook his head. “No, she didn’t take it well, or no she’s not gonna tell Giles?”  He held up his hand in the Peace sign. “XANDER!”

“All . . . right . . . geez, gimme a sec Wills!” he gasped.

“Oh stop it, you didn’t even say thirty words!” she admonished him.

“She actually took it pretty well,” he finally stopped his gasping. “She wants to join me for my morning runs and has offered to spar with me and actually requested /my/ help in /her/ sword training!”

“So, she’s not gonna tell Giles?” Willow clarified.  He just shook his head again.

“Oh good,” the redhead gasped.

After about a minute of standing there, she then asked him, “Now what?”

“Now,” Xander shrugged, “we pick up where we left off.  You said last night that you found this meditation technique that is supposed to allow a person to sense their own spiritual awareness, right?  Sort of opening the third eye or something like that?”

“Something like that,” she nodded. “It’s actually designed to teach novices how to access their spiritual senses and at the same time increase the potency, or effectiveness of those senses.  Most people refer to spiritual senses as the Third Eye, but basically it is nothing more than spiritual awareness, being /aware/ of the spirit world and the spirits around us all the time.  I think it can help with sensing what Byakuya called /reiatsu/.”

“Here, I can show you that it’s not harmful in the least and I can walk you through it in like five minutes!” she excitedly pulled him to the floor of the bedroom.

Chuckling at his friend’s enthusiasm, Xander sat down and crossed his legs and paid close attention as Willow began to show him the meditation that was supposed to increase their spiritual awareness, or at the very least show them how to use it.

*****

Abandoned Warehouse

Drusilla was sobbing inconsolably.  She’d broken all her dollies, then she’d staked and dusted all the remainder of her minions, those that had been trying to kill her anyway, which had been all of them.  Now she was all alone and even Miss Edith wasn’t speaking to her any longer.  She needed her daddy.  She needed her Spike.  Fuck, she’d even settle for grandmummy and that bitch had gotten herself staked over a year ago!

She knew though.  She knew that her new Hobbit in the Night was going to help her. He’d come and make her strong and he would be so powerful.  She just had to be patient.

She would find him soon, and once she did, all she had to do was sing softly to him and take him in her arms and give him the Gift of the Night and he would be hers, then he would take her and make her his.  Ohhh . . . it was going to be so /wonderful/!

She just had to be patient.

The sun would be setting soon, and she would find her Hobbit in the Night . . .

~~~~Part 3~~~~

Buffy swung her sword in a graceful arc, only to quickly switch to the other side. The library echoed with the sound of her blade being blocked by the back of Xander’s Spirit Slayer. Xander backed off a moment and looked wearily at the smiling Slayer.

“Good, Xan. Don’t forget again; the back of the katana is hardened to block other swords, the cutting edge can get damaged much more easily. You block with the back if you can,” Buffy told her friend with a smirk. This training with Xander thing turned out better then expected. He had started off quite knowledgeable about sword fighting to begin with – gained apparently from his possession and the sword itself. He had even taught her a few things about using her spirit to enhance her fighting and the sword she was holding – to be one with it in more than just body. Of course, with her being very low on spiritual power and holding an ordinary, normal, old sword, it had far less impact than it had for Xander with his awesome, beautiful, shining, mystical sword. Dang she really wanted to give it a whirl again. Hmm . . .

“Yes, yes, you’ve told me several times over already,” Xander told her, a little tired having heard it again. He blocked Buffy’s next attack once again with the back of his Spirit Slayer, and went on the offensive himself, Buffy smoothly and easily blocking Xander's combination of thrusts, slices and cuts. “Don’t think it’s going to matter much, as I’m using mystical manifestation of my soul,” Xander told, her, blocking a rapid slice from Buffy – with the front of the blade this time, it was all he could do to get the weapon up in time.

“Against normal old swords, no, but what about some ancient, magical weapon some evil demon dug up? You want that extension of your soul of yours to shatter because you were too lazy to learn proper blocking techniques during your training?” Buffy asked him with a smile. Xander frowned, obviously agreeing with her, but was searching for some rebuttal. A burst of Slayer speed, a lock-up, a twist with the swords, and she had disarmed Xander, taking his magnificent sword away from him.

“Hey!” Xander protested.

“My turn with the beauty,” Buffy singsonged lazily tossing her normal sword to Xander who caught it.

“We said no Slayer super powers I’m not ready for yet!” Xander said indignantly.

“Vamps won’t care about what you’re ready for, Xander,” Buffy said, taking her time to admire the magnificent blade and its perfect balance.

“Dealing with super powers is tomorrow, today we’d be pushing each other to get better and faster,” Xander told her, feeling half-betrayed at Buffy taking his zanpakutō away from him.

“Learn to deal with the unexpected,” Buffy said with a smile, bringing the sword up and doing the channeling her spirit technique on the sword that Xander had taught her.

“Okay, how about a bet,” Xander said told her with a smile. He let Buffy’s sword fall to the libraries wooden floor, relaxed, and spread his arms out as he said it. Buffy looked confused. “I’ll bet you, you won’t be able to hit me even once, even with your Slayer speed.”

“Bet for what?” Buffy asked, intrigued despite herself.

“If you can’t hit me, I get a kiss from you,” Xander told her confidently.

Buffy raised her eyebrows and then smiled. “What do I get out of it?”

Xander shrugged, “You tell me.”

Buffy raised her left index finger to her lip, lowering the sword with her right. She relaxed her pose a moment as she thought her options over. “You’ll be my slave for a month,” Buffy said with a grin.

“It’s a bet,” Xander nodded with a confident smile and relaxed.

Buffy looked at him for a moment. He still didn’t move, not to minimize his profile, not to tense his muscles to be able to move, not even to pick up the sword. Then she shrugged, and charged forward with all her Slayer might and speed – only to stop after barely a centimeter, the mystical blade remained unmoved above her head by her attempts to move it. “Hey!” she exclaimed as she pulled, pushed, and yanked to try to move it – it still refused to budge. Until with a sudden twist the weapon wrenched itself free from Buffy’s hand and landed smoothly in Xander’s hand, who smiled at her.

“You lose,” he told her, the grin widening further. “You didn’t really think you could get to use a manifestation of my soul without my permission, did you?”

“That’s so not fair!” Buffy complained, stamping her foot on the ground, “It was my turn with the shiny magic weapon!”

From behind the counter a tired voice sounded, “Buffy.” Giles rose into visibility, holding a stack of books that he started carrying back to the rear book cases. “Stop treating Xander’s highly dangerous mystical weapon like it’s a toy.”

“But I’m the Slayer, /I/ should have a cool, fantastic, super weapon. It’s completely not fair! Where’s /my/ magic sword?” Buffy whined, weakly stomping the ground.

“And please stop acting like a six-year-old, you’re giving me a bloody headache,” the librarian added, a tired sigh audible in his voice as he continued his trek toward the book case.

“But it’s not right,” Buffy said, this time seriously. “If I come across some kind of ghoul that is as immune to wood as vampires are to steel – or a ghost -” Buffy nodded pointedly at the ‘Death God’ with his ‘Spirit Slayer’ across from her, “I’m completely screwed. I can’t carry every possible weapon I might ever need on me. Why haven’t the Watchers ever created a nice kill-all magic weapon for Slayers?” Giles slowed his gate for a moment as he pondered the admittedly valid question, something Slayer senses did not fail to pick up, “See, you agree with me!”

“Yes, well, life isn’t fair and all that. There isn’t anything I can do about it, now is there?” Giles answered her as he disappeared behind a book case.

Buffy sighed deeply, and looked at Xander who had waited patiently. “I’m so not in the mood for training anymore, Xander,” she said a little disappointed.

“Me neither,” Xander told her and sheathed his blade in the invisible sheath on his back – the katana disappearing from view afterward.

Buffy started for the exit, when Xander said with a grin, “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something – like a lost bet.”

Buffy jerked to a halt, looked at Xander a moment, and said, “Fine.” She walked over to him, and Xander smiled in anticipation. He was pulled down gently, and her lips touched his left cheek, and then she continued on her path toward the library’s exit, smiling to herself.

“Hey, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Xander said, quickly following after her.

“You should have been more precise then, huh?” Buffy told him with a grin.

“You are a cruel, cruel friend!” Xander exclaimed indignantly with his hands in the air, “How can you screw me, your bestest best bud out of my fairly earned reward!” In the back of the library, as he packed away the books, Giles shook his head.

*****

The Lunchroom
Later

Larry was loudly bragging about his football skills. He and his friends reached the lunchroom cashier. He reached to the back of his pants to get his wallet, and found the pocket empty. He looked surprised and padded his pocket some more. Looking stricken now, he started feeling the rest of his pockets, and for good measure all over himself.

“Are you gonna pay, or not?” the lunch lady demanded coarsely.

“I can’t find my wallet,” he said, and snickers and outright laughs came from the students hearing him. They all loved the arrogant jerk and bully getting his. A few tables over Buffy watched the proceedings from the corner of her eyes with a smirk on her face. Next to her was Willow, and across from them Xander, with Willow talking to, or maybe at Xander. Embarrassed, angry, and blushing, Larry requested help from his friends – or maybe sycophants was a better word – and, perhaps miraculously, they lent him the money to pay for his lunch.

“Hey, Buffy!”

“Huh?” Buffy jerked her head back to her two friends.

Willow repeated her question, “What do you think about how Hitler assumed power in Germany?”

“Oh, Hitler’s nasty,” Buffy answered her best friend, and then turned to Xander and asked softly, “What does she mean?”

Willow let out a sigh as Xander answered with a grin, “Torching the Reichstag and blaming the communists and taking control over all communication.”

“Buffy, this is important stuff, you know?” the redhead complained, and then looked at Xander with wide eyes. “You /did/ pay attention,” she said with some relieved happiness and pride.

“I’m not a total lazy ass,” Xander shrugged, and then turned around looking at where Buffy had been looking. “Hey, Buff, what was so interesting over there anyway.”

Buffy answered while smiling, “Oh, Larry couldn’t find his wallet and had to borrow from his friends. It was like karma for the people he bullied out of their lunch money playing out right in front of our eyes.”

“Sorry, I missed it,” Xander said as he turned back to face his friend.

“Me too!” Willow eagerly agreed.

After lunch the three started walking to their next class. Once out of the lunchroom they passed a garbage bin, and surreptitiously Buffy pulled a wallet from her back pocket. An empty wallet which she quickly dumped into the garbage bin. Next to her Willow was chattering on about how exciting the physics class would be and the experiment they all would be doing. The redhead turned her head just in time to see Buffy let go of the wallet.

“Buffy!” Willow exclaimed in a hiss.

Buffy blushed and attempted to look innocent, saying, “What?” She failed miserably, more so when Xander turned around to look at his two friends and Buffy in particular.

“Did you steal Larry’s wallet?” Willow asked shocked, looking at her friend.

Buffy grinned, looking around to see if no one was in earshot, then blushing she scratched the back of her neck nervously, and said “Well, Amanda has all these interesting skills – and uh, he’s a bully, not some innocent guy. I thought it'd be a nice payback for all the lunch money he must have bullied out of people and the way he’s treated one of my best friends.” Willow looked at her with undisguised disbelief.

“Buffy-chan, you rock, and I appreciate the gesture,” Xander said with a huge grin, making Willow turn to gape at him.

“Why thank you, Xander-san,” Buffy answered with just a light bow, smirking.

Willow looked from one of her smiling friends to the other, and then said sourly, “You two are a bad influence on each other.”

“Oh, come on, Will, it isn’t like she emptied out his bank account and left him bankrupt,” Xander said with a grin, nudging her with his elbow gently. “Admit it, it’s funny.”

Willow’s sour look slowly broke into grin, “It /is/ nicely appropriate.” Willow was silent for a moment, guiltily contemplating the concept, and then said, “Maybe you can pickpocket Cordelia?”

“She can do what with me?!” a harsh voice asked, and Willow turned to see Cordelia close the distance between them and her quickly.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Willow babbled quickly, blushing in embarrassed.

Cordelia’s piercing gaze settled on the nervous Willow for a bit, then moved over her two nervous, guilty maybe, compatriots. “Know this, if Buffy beats me up, I will sue all your asses off,” Cordelia hissed at the three and then stalked off.

“That was a close one,” Xander muttered, looking after the retreating cheerleader. He allowed his eyes to move down to Cordelia’s skirt-clad ass, and then averted his eyes guiltily. Cordelia wasn’t exactly evil, in fact she had helped out on occasion, but especially Willow still considered the girl ‘the enemy’. She /was/ rather bitchy, and thinking of her in /that/ way just brought out guilt.

“I say ‘go’ for Operation Pick Pocket Cordelia,” Willow muttered in annoyance.

*****

Sunnydale Public Library
Nighttime

Jonathan Levinson was just leaving the library just in front of the head librarian, who was just about to lock the doors. He’d been doing some minor studying after school, and where normally one might expect him to use the school’s library, after a very strange encounter early on in the year where the school librarian, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris and Buffy Summers had . . . well, not really kicked him out, but they made it seem like it was their personal club house or something like that. So, he’d taken to doing his studying here at the Public Library.

He had actually finished his homework and other school studies early in the afternoon, but what had kept him there so late was some very cool books in Latin!

And not just any Latin, like the modern variations used for scientific classification, or even the humorous Pig Latin, but real, written during the time of Rome, authentic Latin script! Ever since he was a kid he’d been interested in old facts and myths and legends and whatnot, and it helped that many of those inspired later works of popular science fiction or fantasy!

So, he’d been reading all afternoon and into the evening every single one of those old tomes written in authentic Latin. The fact that they talked about demons, monsters, and ancient magics just made it all the more interesting to him.

Now it was nighttime, and it was getting really late. Jonathan hoped his mother wouldn’t be mad when he finally got home, but then again, she hardly ever showed she cared about him in the first place. He doubted she would know even if he disappeared forever.

“On your way back to the boring old Shire, are we?” a voice suddenly spoke from the darkness around him. Jonathan jumped, turning every which way, trying to see exactly who or what had spoken to him.

He spun around about three times, jumping at the slightest noises before he calmed down and turned back towards the direction to his home. He jumped and screamed when he saw a beautiful dark-haired woman standing before him. She had porcelain skin and was wearing a lacy white dress. If he wasn’t so freaked out right now, he would be enraptured by her ethereal beauty.

“Hi-huh-hi-huh... Who a-are you?” Jonathan stammered.

“Hmm,” the beautiful woman floated, yes floated up to him and then circled him like a shark around wounded prey. It wasn’t a nice thought, but one that was accurate he felt.

“Such pretty words floating round and round,” she dreamily sang as she floated along, staring not at his head but above and around it. Jonathan believed she really saw something circling and coming out of his head.

“Uhm... can I help you?” he nervously asked, very freaked out right now.

Suddenly she was right there in front of him, looking him right in the eye. He didn’t know what else to do, so he looked right back in hers, confusion and fear radiating from every pore of his body. She made no expression, just looking him right in the eye, before saying some words that sounded like they echoed throughout his very mind.

“So much potential, so much promise, so much . . . strength,” she gasped as she uttered the last word. “You are the one I have been searching for, the one I need. Mrs. Edith told me about you after my Spike was taken from me by the mean, old, joking reaper. You are my Hobbit in the Night!”

“Ooookkaaayyyy . . . I-I’m gonna go now,” Jonathan tried to edge around her. A hand stopped him, and lingered – gently. He looked at it in confusion and then looked up at her, into her deep brown eyes.

“Why would you wish to leave so quickly, handsome?” she said strangely gently. “This is where romances that make the stars sing and weep for joy start. You don’t want to run away and ruin the stars’ and your fun, would you?”

“Ah, well . . .” Jonathan started, but was cut off when cool lips touches his. A moment later her tongue touched his, and electricity shot through his body as his first kiss got stolen from him. The kiss was heaven, so much he couldn’t believe it, and he started kissing back, tongues worked to give each other pleasure. She broke the kiss suddenly, and then she started kissing gently down his neck, giving him erotic fluttering kissing. His manhood painfully hard, he somehow managed to say, “I’m under age.”

“Silly, Jon,” she told him, her left hand stroked along the other side of his neck and collarbone as the lips were now gone from the left side. “Great romances don’t care about age. It would make the stars sad not to see great romances blocked so.” Her mouth up to his earlobe and sucked on it for a moment, sending shivers down his spine. Then she whispered exotically, “Come to me. If you want more, come to Drusilla.” She finished with the name of a cemetery, and seemingly floated off, swaying back and forth as though listening to music only she could hear.

Jonathan swallowed, still rock hard, and frustrated as all hell. He didn’t know whether to run after her right away, or consider her dangerous. Fear and arousal warring inside him. Finally he decided to go home. He ran all the way home. But he did remember the strange woman’s name and the cemetery. Because he dreamed about her all night long. When he woke up the next morning, he was shaking, but from fear or some other intense emotion, he couldn’t begin to say.

*****

The man walked onto Sunnydale High campus, entering the courtyard. It was evening, and already dark. He was wearing a brown suit, and carrying dark brown, leather bag. As he walked, he looked timidly back and forth. In fact, his walk and every step he took betrayed his timidness. He was obviously afraid of something. He came across a janitor taking out a full trash bag from a bin, and putting an empty one back in.

“Excuse me,” the fearful man spoke with an English accent. “Would you mind pointing me toward the library, please?”

The janitor looked up, studied the man for a moment and then turned to his left, right for the Englishman. The janitor pointed at a square outcropping from the rest of the school, right at the end of the courtyard, a simple door in the building. “That’s the library,” the janitor told him.

“Oh, thank you kindly,” the Englishman said politely, and the janitor simply shrugged, as if gesturing it wasn’t necessary. The janitor moved on to his next target as the Englishman hurried on toward the building indicated.

The Englishman kept looking frightened back and forth as he hurried across the courtyard. He made it! He knocked on the door. “Hello?” he asked, knocking harder on the door. No answer seemed forthcoming. “Is someone there!? Open the door, please. Rupert!?”

There was a growl directly behind him, and oppressive feeling of death and horror filling the area. The Englishman turned around instantly, looking into the hideously deformed, green face of a well-dressed woman. Her eyes flashed orange, and the man said, “Oh, god. Deirdre?”

The demon grinned nastily and spoke with a throaty voice, “Phillip.” Terror was instantly on Phillip’s face as he tried to back away – but he was standing against the door.

“Hey!”

Xander was late. He was running onward, jumping over a narrow strip of vegetation as he ran toward the library. He was supposed to be participating in training with Buffy, but his meditations, and helping Willow trying to figure out the magic book she was learning from, had taken longer than expected. Since he didn’t have a watch, he was later than he liked. With his schedule these days, maybe it was time to buy one? If Willow didn’t have an alarm clock in her room, he might still not have known he was late. He rounded the corner, while fishing his key out of his left pocket. He saw a man up against the library door, a woman across from him. She spoke his name, ‘Phillip.’

“Hey,” he called just as the man started looking afraid. Both the man and the woman turned their heads toward him, and he could see her face. It was green, it was deformed, and her eyes flashed orange.

He was surprised for only a moment, then he reached with his right hand to his right shoulder, his Spirit Slayer appearing in its familiar scabbard. “Alright, she-bitch,” Xander said, taking hold of the red and blue ribbons encircled hilt. He pulled the katana free, and finished, “Come get some.”

The woman managed a real nasty and loud combination of a hiss and a growl and jumped toward him. Xander ran forward, while Phillip managed to stammer, “No-no, a sword won’t . . .”

Too late, the blade of Xander’s weapon smoothly sliced into woman’s heart – she didn’t seem to care much for dodging. She let out a sudden screech of pain while looking surprised and confused. Then she screamed even louder – a low growling scream. Her eyes glowed green, and the light seemed to leech out of them through her veins. With an inhuman howl the light suddenly turned outward, and with bright flash in all directions it snapped away. The green skin turned a more human color, and the deformities mostly disappeared, but she didn’t manage to look entirely human either. She went limp and heavy, and Xander retracted his sword, which was now coated in blood. Deirdre’s corpse dropped to the floor, dead.

“Shit, she was- human, possessed,” Xander muttered shocked.

“Don’t worry, she was already a corpse,” Phillip said with a frown as he slowly came over. Relieved, Xander pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket’s pocket and started cleaning his weapon.

Phillip looked astonished at the corpse on the ground. He waited a few moments, and then as Xander put his sword away, once more disappearing from view, Phillip said, “You killed him. You actually killed him. You destroyed Eyghon.”

“That’s what you usually do with demons, don’t you?” Xander asked him confused.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Phillip started to explain, still in shocked relief over his life being saved. “He is a demon in spirit form; he has to possess a body to be on this world, this plane of existence. That means you should only be able to banish him back his own dimension. But if you had done that, if Eyghon were still alive, Deirdre’s corpse would have disintegrated into a green slime.”

Xander grinned lightly, tapped his right shoulder and said, “It isn’t called a Spirit Slayer for nothing.” He lifted his left hand up, once again holding the key to the library back door, and said, “I take it you came here for Giles.”

“Yes, quite,” Phillip nodded, his breathing slowly going back to normal.

“Well, let’s get him and Buffy to help deal with the corpse,” Xander said and stepped over said corpse. He quickly reached the door, unlocked it with the key and opened it. Loud techno music assaulted his and Phillip’s ears as the door opened.

“Good song,” Phillip commented, making Xander look at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What?”

Xander just shook his head and grinned. “Nothing. It’s just Giles hates this kind of music. Calls it ’noise’ most of the time. And here I thought all stuffy prim and proper Englishmen were like Giles. Go figure!”

Phillip now sported the ‘second head’ look, and repeated in a barely heard whisper, “Giles? Rupert Giles, a stuffy Englishman? I think there might be some mistake, I’m looking for...”

Right at that moment, the music suddenly cut off as Xander and Phillip came out of the stacks onto the balcony of the high school library. Once the noise was silenced, Phillip stopped and stared, as Xander stood beside him, appreciating the view of Buffy in her workout outfit.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Giles breathed a sigh of relief as the noise was silenced.

“Rupert . . . ?” Phillip stammered at seeing his old college friend dressed in a tweed suit and presenting the full image of the stereotypical Watcher they’d always used to make fun of.

“Phillip!” Giles exclaimed, startled and surprised to see a face he’d thought he’d never see again after who knows how many years. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” the visiting Englishman sheepishly replied, “that’s a bit of a tale to tell. Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he subtly gestured to the very tense Slayer standing next to Giles.

“Oh, yes,” Giles jumped to at being reminded of his manners. “Phillip, this is my . . . protégé, Buffy Summers. And it would seem that you already know Xander Harris, the young man next to you. Speaking of whom, you are late.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Xander scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got held up with Wills and some other stuff. The other stuff is how I came across Phillip here. He was banging on the back door, begging to be let in when this demon-zombie lady came up to him and tried to reenact one of the worse scenes from ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Might want to consider headphones in the future, Buff.”

The blond arched a single eyebrow, glanced back and forth between Giles and Xander, then slowly relaxed. If the two men that she trusted most in life believed that this stranger was no threat, then she’d let him stick around for a while. Then the mention of ‘demon zombie’ finally filtered through her brain, as well as Xander’s subtle comment about the noise. “Yeah, well, I need a beat to do my exercises to,” Buffy said sheepishly, “So who’s your friend?”

“Actually, he says he’s a friend of Giles,” Xander replied, stepping down from the balcony to be at Buffy’s side. The two teens stared expectantly at the two middle-aged Englishmen, whom were suddenly very uncomfortable.

“Ah, yes, well . . .” Giles trailed off, pulling his glasses off to thoroughly clean them.

“Very sorry to drop in on you like this, Rupert,” Phillip said in hopes of moving past the unpleasantness. “But there is . . . was some rather urgent matters I had needed to discuss with you. However, after meeting this brilliant young man, there hardly seems a point anymore.”

Buffy snorted and Giles was flabbergasted.

“Um, excuse me,” Giles apologized, then looked at Phillip as though he’d just claimed the sun was purple and the sky made of applesauce. “Xander? Brilliant?”

“Hey!” the teen protested.

“Eyghon is dead,” Phillip stated plainly. Giles dropped his glasses.

“Whose Egon?” Buffy whispered to Xander.

“Demon zombie. Killed it with you-know-what. Guy was kinda surprised by it,” he said.

Phillip added somberly, “As is Deirdre, Eyghon had possessed her.”

“Oh dear lord,” Giles sat heavily in one of the chairs by the table.

“You’d better put some tea on, it’s going to be a long night,” Phillip said.

“About that,” Xander popped in, his finger raised in the air, “I know you Englishmen are sticklers for the tea and ceremony, but the body’s still outside . . .”

Buffy looked with wide eyes at him, while Giles reset his glasses and said, “Good heavens.” Giles took a few steps toward the short staircase that would bring him to the second level where the back door that Xander and Phillip had come from resided, and then paused. He turned back toward the other three occupants of the room, and said, “I know a ritual that will burn her remains completely, leave no biological trace of her. Afterwards, we can spread her ashes into the garden.”

“Whoa!” Buffy exclaimed a little shocked, Xander next to her had his mouth agape as well. “I know once or twice I’ve buried a demon body, but she’s human, right? And wouldn’t this Deirdre’s family want to bury her remains?”

“If the police find the body of a British woman with sword stab wounds, and find the only other two British people in Sunnydale had a personal history with her, and one of them has a collection of swords for “historical references” for history class in his library, who do you think they’re going to lock up for murdering her?” Giles asked Buffy pointedly, making subtle quotes with his hands at just above waist height for ‘historical references’.

“And we’d no doubt go down as accomplices,” Xander nodded sagely.

Buffy frowned, and said, “Damn. I never thought I’d ever be cleaning up a murder crime scene.”

“There is a first for everything, my dear,” Phillip commented with a smile and a humorous twinkle in his eyes. Buffy looked over at him with a frown. “I assure you, Miss Summers, this is only my second.”

“Second?” Buffy asked, looking at Phillip with a stern gaze, that made him nervous.

Giles pulled his glasses off and started cleaning them, nervously saying, “Yes, well, that’s a story for later, let’s just get on with it, shall we?” Buffy looked at Giles, it was almost as if the story included her prim and proper Watcher.

“I’m always up for a little cleaning after a good murder at night. I like to keep my ass out of jail,” Xander added jovially, half excited at the elicit event.

“Same goes for me, let’s get started, Ripper,” Phillip added with a smile.

Giles blanched as twin voices sounded, “Ripper!?”

*****

The four of them sat on a pentacle, the body of Deirdre in the middle. Candles were at the five points of the pentagram in the circle. The flame that consumed Deirdre had started out sickly green and then purified into an ethereal blue. Afterwards, only some ashes remained. The group stood up as Giles grabbed a broom. As he started to sweep the ashes together so he could gather them on a dustpan, Xander and Buffy came to stand close to him. Xander with his hands folded across his chest and leaning back against the library’s counter, while Buffy was standing closer. Phillip had placed himself in one of the chairs at the table.

“So, Ripper?” Buffy asked innocently. Giles sighed, pausing in his sweeping for a moment.

“Do tell,” Xander supplied in addition.

“The follies of a misspent youth,” Giles said, and placed the broom against the counter. He grabbed the brush and dustpan and started gathering up the ashes.

“Not entirely misspent,” Phillip added from his position at the library table, smiling impishly.

“What does that mean?” Buffy asked him with a confused face. She walked over to the table, and Xander followed her.

Phillip smiled, and said, “I say we let Ripper here start, and then I can clarify.”

“I'd rather you didn’t, Phillip,” Giles said as he walked closer to the table, where Xander now joined the other two.

“Afraid I’ll ruin your reputation, old chap?” Phillip asked him with some mirth.

Giles sighed again, and said, “I wasn’t always dressing in tweed. My father had spent his time hammering home my responsibility to continue the family tradition of being a Watcher. I hated it. So I went to London when I was nineteen, and soon found myself in the esteemed company of Phillip, Deirdre, Thomas, Randall, and the not so esteemed company of Ethan Rayne, although I wasn’t aware of that last bit at the time.”

“I think you’re giving the rest of us back then a bit too much credit, Rupert,” Phillip said with a light smile that turned sour. “Thomas is dead as well, his and Deirdre’s death prompted me to seek you out.”

“Thomas too? I suppose I am giving us too much credit. I joined the worst lot that would have me that wasn’t the mob,” Giles said reminiscing bitterly.

“Ethan Rayne!?” Xander asked a little surprised, “You mean the bastard that turned us into our costumes for Halloween?”

“Ethan is here?” Phillip asked as Giles nodded to Xander.

“He better not still be,” Giles said darkly, “And he probably isn’t, from what I’ve heard Buffy and Xander’s alter egos weren’t exactly gentle with him.” Phillip looked over at them. Buffy smiled, and Xander gave his own smirk.

“Anyway, we practiced magics, small stuff really, amongst some more mundane hell-raising,” Giles explained grimly.

“Don’t forget you moonlighted as the local rock god, Rupert, my friend,” Phillip said with a grin.

“A rock god!?” the twin voices of Xander and Buffy said in shock, making Giles groan.

“He’s good with a guitar and he had an amazing singing voice; got us all the girls, he did,” Phillip told them with a smile, making Giles groan even louder, and making Xander’s and Buffy’s eyes bug out even more. “The only one who it never seemed to work on, was Deirdre.”

Getting away from that subject quickly, Giles continued, “Then Ethan and I stumbled onto something bigger.”

“The Mark of god-damned Eyghon, the sleepwalker,” Phillip spoke bitterly. “Can only possess the dead or the unconscious.”

Giles continued, “One of us would go under, and the rest of us would summon Eyghon.”

“It was a most interesting high,” Phillip said with some enthusiasm, smiling even.

“God, we were blithering idiots,” Giles said, shaking his head, and Phillip lowered his.

Silence reigned for a few moments, and Buffy prompted, “Then things went wrong, didn’t it?”

“Randall couldn’t control it, Eyghon consumed him whole,” Giles said, staring off in the distance remembering the horrific events.

“We tried exorcism, but Eyghon was just too strong,” Phillip finished for the librarian.

Giles looked bleakly at Buffy and Xander, “Eyghon killed him . . . we killed him, we were forced to.”

*****

Library
Next Day

“So what did I miss?” Willow chirped as she walked alongside her two friends.

“Two old guys, both from England, playing catch-up,” Xander replied.

“Yeah, who knew Giles was actually kind of cool when he was a kid?” Buffy shrugged. Then she paused and added, “Who knew he was ever a kid!?”

“That’s of course after I kicked demon ass,” Xander said softly so no one would over hear. He grinned, and he said, “You should have been there, I was like Ash from Evil dead. ‘Yo, she-bitch, come get some.’ I never imagined I could get to do that . . . and survive to tell about it.”

Willow looked at him with wide eyes, “Really . . . you gotta be careful, Xan.”

“Heh, isn’t that supposed to be the guy’s line?” Xander asked with a half smile.

“No, that’s supposed to be the the mystically enhanced person’s line,” Buffy corrected in a low voice as they reached their lockers. They stopped there to change books before heading for their next class. Thank god that the California School Board decided that it would be much better for there to be ten to fifteen minutes between classes in all high schools in the LA/Hollywood areas. “Don’t let it get to your head, Xand. That’s the way to your grave,” Buffy warned.

Xander gave her salute with the words, “Yes, ma’am. Sjeez, instead of complimenting me on my awesomeness- I really wish the only eye-witness isn’t already going back home.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but smiling while doing it. “So, Bronzing tonight?” Buffy asked her friends as they slowly made their way past the lounge area. “The renovations should be done, right?”

“If you mean are they finished repairing from the last vampire attack, yeah I think so,” Xander commented, then winced as Willow poked him in the back. “But unfortunately Wills and I have . . . well, not really plan plans, but we’ve got plans. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” He winced again as he received another poke in the back.

“Oh,” Buffy sounded a bit disappointed. “What kind of plans?”

“Training,” Xander answered, briefly touching the hilt of his blade to make it appear, then let it disappear again. “I’ve kind of made a deal with the sword. Part of that is giving up my free time so that I can eventually become a wielder worthy of using its power. But like I said, you’re welcome to join up.”

“Nah, I get enough of that from Giles and you during the day, I don’t need to start volunteering my little remaining normal time,” Buffy sighed. “I think I’ll swing by the Bronze if only to vaguely remember what it was once like to be a normal teenager. And to take care of any vamps too. Then I’ll probably go on patrol about 11. Meet you at Hyde Park?”

“Sure thing,” Xander nodded. “And I’m not as fast a sprinter as you, so probably expect me closer to 11:30, OK?”

Buffy giggled and nodded her head. Then she turned to Willow, who walked off without a word before the blonde could say anything. She frowned, concerned for a moment, but finally just shrugged and let it go. Besides, they had class to get to.

*****

Willow’s room
That night

Willow looked around the room and nodded. Xander was sitting on the bed, and watched Willow prepare a pentacle, put a crystal star in the middle, and candles on each pentagram point. Red ones at the top and two bottoms, and blacks at the side points. She opened the book she’d been using and checked the diagram in it, then checked it with her own set up. The book was heavy, very thick, rather big, was hard-covered and had an old look to it. She nodded, and then to be certain took out her compass again.

“High point exactly due north, yep,” Willow said and smiled at Xander. “All ready. So, the point of this exercise is to place some of my own magical energy inside the crystal star. I can then use it as an anchor and sensor for doing magic exercises. The first steps will be to learn to do more and to more control my own magic energy, and learn to focus it. Apparently if you just start casting, especially big, powerful, and nasty spells, you can cause a backlash in your own magic and soul.” She looked up from the book at Xander, and said, “W-which is bad.” She looked down again and read some of the description, as well as a picture of a veiny, demon-eye-glowy, worse-than-a-vampire, more-like-a-zombie warlock who screwed it up. “V-very bad.” She felt glad Xander had made her promise to take this slow, and not just dabbled about with whatever she’d get her hands on. “If I’m forced to do this badly in defense of life, it should also help me in purging the corruption before it gets nasty,” Willow commented, nodding.

“So, we’re ready to do this?” Xander asked with a light smile. The bed he was sitting on was light brown wood. The walls were blue and had a poster of Stephen Hawking pinned on it, and next to it a poster of the Spice girls. It was his Willow to a tee, obviously. The sheets of the bed were pink, while a computer was standing on her power desk. Girly in some ways, and the rest a total intellectual – but he knew the games Willow liked to play on her computer were as far removed from girly as you could get. When she was driving over pedestrians in Carmageddon, she could be downright scary.

“Yeah, I have to sit on the north side of the circle, and you on the south side,” Willow told him as she walked over to her position. She sat down into the lotus position as Xander reached his spot. He then did the same.

“Okay, here, I go,” Willow said. With her hands on her knees, she closed her eyes, and concentrated. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked at Xander, allowing his presence to focus her. She gently murmured words Xander couldn’t decipher, he suspected they weren’t even words, just an action to let Willow focus better. He became aware of energy slowly building in the room, an odd tingling sensation alongside his senses, and he attempted to open his sixth sense to it – a sense for energy he knew existed through Byakuya Kuchiki’s knowledge, a sense he was still developing. And then the energy was gone.

“Dang it,” Willow said, and then breathed in deep.

“I could feel it building, just try it again,” Xander told her calmly, allowing his calm tone to calm Willow down.

Xander’s redhead friend nodded, and gently breathed in and out. “OK, here I go again,” Willow said, and let her senses go inward. She went to look for the magic energy she knew everyone had to a certain extent. Some had more, some had less, and she had felt and trained with her energy before. Mostly to just let it flow; in fact, she had sensed varying energies inside of her. Xander had told her as much, body energy, chi; mind energy, or the energy contained in the body’s most basic parts, called jing; and finally spirit energy, reiryoku in Death God terms, or shen in Eastern terms, and in RPG terms mana, basically magic energy. It was that last magical energy she was seeking to harness. With some effort she pulled on her magic energy, it felt like trying to fish one specific noodle out of soup with a fork. Every time you though you had it, pulling it partially out of the liquid and free from the other noodles, it would slip again from your fork and back into the soup.

So once again, just as the energy started to form and pulled up to obey her command, it slipped again and disappeared inside her. “Ugh,” Willow muttered in disgust as she once again failed.

After she failed a third time, Xander asked her, “Hey, Will, does the book say anything about the reason why I’m sitting here?”

Willow nodded, and said, “It says someone else’s presence you know well, and has some power himself should allow me to be more calm and at ease in taking a hold of my power.”

“Nothing else?” Xander asked, and the redhead shook her head. “Okay, then I have a better idea,” he told her and got up.

“But the book says this is the best way,” Willow said as she saw Xander getting out of the pentacle and walk around her.

As Xander sat down behind her, he replied, “For some people, maybe, but every person is different. What is best and easiest for another, may not be necessarily best for you.” Sitting behind, he breathed in gently, and placed his hand on Willow’s back, taking care not to have his arm low enough the candle below could hurt him. “Try again,” Xander said, as he projected his chi forward and into Willow. Until now, all he had been able to do with his chi was cause some goosebumps on himself and others; nothing to help in a fight, but it could be helpful here.

As Willow felt Xander’s hand gently touch her back dead center, it felt good, and she felt herself relax. She knew him, and Xander gently touching her was a good feeling. Maybe a little too good a feeling. *Bad Willow,* the redhead admonished herself, she was here to get better at magic so she could help protect Buffy, not indulge in selfish romantic fantasies.

She took a deep but gentle breath, and focused again, eyes closed. She noticed the difference instantly – where before Xander’s energy had been a vague concept beyond her immediate world, and hadn’t seem very helpful in identifying and tapping into her own, right now Xander’s chi was obvious. It mixed some with her own, making her magic energy stand out in stark contrast to her chi. Delicately she took it, and brought it forward. Xander’s touching hand’s calming influence helped her to remain relaxed, not rushing things. And so, three minutes after Xander’s hand was placed on her back, a gently, flowing, airy white energy floated inside the cavity that her legs, arms and torso made.

“I did it,” Willow whispered gently as she brought her hands back and very gently put them on either side of the small, mist-surrounded orb, and pulled it along. A few moments later she slipped the energy into the crystal star, it’s properties trapping the energy inside. Thus the crystal was gently glowing from the inside out. “I did it!” Willow exclaimed once again, this time louder and with more enthusiasm.

Xander took the hand from Willow’s back, and crawled around Willow, looking at the crystal with the glowing energy inside. “That’s impressive, Will,” Xander said with a smile.

Willow nodded with a big grin. “Now that I've placed a little bit of my magical energy in there, I should be able to get much more out of my meditation sessions, and more easily go into meditation. But the best yet, it allows me to see whether anything’s affecting my magic.” Willow turned away from Xander and looked at her crystal. “Let’s try that out, if I use my magic, I should be able to let it react to it, and probably even my emotions,” Willow said, and closed her eyes for a moment. After a little effort she felt like she was moving her magic around inside of her.

“Heh, it’s moving,” Xander said with a smile. Willow opened her eyes, and the light inside the crystal indeed was moving about; like an ultra dense galaxy far far away, having lighter currents and darker currents as it swirled around. Willow smiled brightly, and the whitish light of before gained more yellow to it.

“It works!” Willow said triumphantly.

*****

The Bronze
Night

Jonathan sighed, drinking the last of his soda as he stared forlornly out on the dance floor. Where, of course, all the pretty people, popular kids, and attractive girls were dancing and flaunting their perfect, lustful bodies. He sighed again, looking down at the ice melting in his glass.

He didn’t even know what he was doing here. What had possessed him to come to the /Bronze/ of all places? This was not where people like him hung out. Not even on the pretense of hanging out.

Fed up with himself and his own attitude, he got up and left. Instead of going out the front though, where he knew everyone would see him leave and would notice the geek trying to act cool and finally going home like a kicked puppy with its tail between its legs, he went around to the side and then went out the back door.

Surprisingly, the alley was completely deserted when he came out. He could have sworn that he saw a few people walking out this way earlier. Although, he sniffed, there was something in the air that totally reeked, which could explain why they might have left fairly quickly.

Jonathan stepped out fully into the alley and tried to see where he needed to go from here, scuffing his shoes along the pavement as he walked. He idly noted that there seemed to be a lot of dust in the alley, judging from how much was kicked up just from him walking.

He stopped.

Frowning, he slowly turned around, not really knowing why, even as he did it. He nearly jumped when he fully turned around, but managed to contain himself. Standing there, only a couple feet away from him, was the same woman from a couple nights ago. She was just standing there, staring at him with her deep, dark brown eyes, her porcelain skin and lacy white dress shining in the light from the moon and the street lamp.

“Uh . . . hi?” Jonathan nervously waved.

“Hello,” the woman, Drusilla - he finally remembered her name - replied. “You did not come our place of romance, Jonathan,” she voice singsonged seductively. “The stars were not pleased.”

“Ah, well, I had homework to do,” Jonathan answered weakly, noticing Drusilla’s hips sway enticingly; mesmerizing him.

“Hm, but what is a beautiful boy doing all alone on a night when the stars sing of romance?” Drusilla purred, walking over and sashaying her hips hypnotically. She had reached Jonathan awfully fast, faster than she had any right to. Now she was just standing there, her breasts just below chin height - she was wearing no bra. He knew this, because in the pale light of the moon and nearby out lamp, the dress became semi-translucent, allowing him to see her twin globes “You should be conquering maidens’ hearts, and make them sing for joy, my Hobbit in the Night.”

“Ah, I uh, took a break. Gets old after a while,” Jonathan bluffed, wanting to use his words to sneak backwards and away before running off. But he was moving too slowly, she may seem crazy, but she was so hot, and mysterious, and this might be his only chance to /ever/ have sex in his entire lifetime!

Seeming to glide once again, Drusilla closed the small gap near instantly. “Then it is time to soar to a new peak, my love. Make my body sweeten with joy,” she murmured, circling around Jonathan, gently taking his arms. She placed a fluttering kiss on Jonathan’s neck. Jonathan turned around, half afraid, half aroused, and then his head was taken in a grip and her lips touched his. A scorching kiss followed, one that took all resistance away from Jonathan, he kissed back, letting tongue massage tongue, too caught up in the pleasure to notice the coldness of hers. Feeling her breasts touch on the top of his chest broke whatever reluctance may have remained. When Drusilla finally broke the kiss, Jonathan was looking at her with wide lustful and adoring eyes. He was able to admit to himself he had wanted her from the first kiss onward, only fear holding him back. Not anymore.

“Come, my pet, for what we are about to do, the stars wish to be the only witnesses,” Drusilla murmured at him, and Jonathan nodded with a bright grin.

Less then half an hour later they were on a bed with red sheets in some abandoned factory. Jonathan didn’t know what sort of abandoned factory would have a bed, but he didn’t care. He was massaging an honest to god woman’s breasts, and licking and kissing them. The moans coming from Drusilla told him he was doing good. “Bite them,” the goddess hissed, and he complied, sinking his teeth into the supple flesh. He took the nipple of her other breasts between his index finger and thumb and squeezed. His teeth roamed over the one, and an erotic growl came from Drusilla.

Suddenly he was pushed down, and felt his pants quickly leaving his legs. He looked down, and watched in amazement as the beauty raised his already hard cock up, and her open mouth moved towards the tip. Then, as heaven took him, he leaned back, his head in the back of neck and groaned with the pleasure. Wet, tight, sucking lips moved up and down, and he just laid all the way back to enjoy. Not too long after that, he entered a higher heaven as he felt tight, wet, massaging flesh wrap around his engorged member. He looked back up in astonishment as the beauty started a gentle pace riding him, a pace that steadily increased. Her inner muscles squeezed and massaged, while moving up and down, back and fourth. “Oh, god, this is . . .” he muttered.

“Yes, my magnificent, enjoy, enjoy, and come inside of me. Let this union be consummated with your future life fluid blessing my inner unholiest. Miss Edith will be cross with me, you now,” Drusilla murmured, and Jonathan just nodded, the only thing registering with him was the sensation of the supple wetness enveloping his erection. Drusilla bent forward, continuing her riding motions, kissing Jonathan on his mouth, and then onward alongside his right cheek, until she was kissing, nuzzling and licking the side of his neck. Just wait a little longer, and all the sweet nectar flowing there would be hers.

“Oh, god, oh, god, I’m gonna . . .” Jonathan trailed off. Drusilla vamped out, and firmly but sensually sank her fangs into his neck. His eyes widened and the sudden pain, the oh so erotic pain of feeling incisors entering his flesh. It was heaven, it only enhanced the pleasure down below. The feeling of his life blood flowing from him more so. “Ugh,” he groaned and moaned out, as it felt like a volcano of pure pleasure erupted throughout his body, and especially his cock. His seed coated the vampire’s pussy, as she greedily drank from his other nectar. Her own orgasm claiming her making her suck and swallow up the blood faster. “Oh . . . oh, god, that was amazing,” Jonathan muttered, feeling weaker by the second, but not really caring as he basked in the afterglow.

Drusilla sat up, and quickly sliced open a gash just above her breasts. “Here, my hobbit, drink,” she said as she pulled him up, and his mouth to her blood.

He was too drowsy to register the yellow eyes, blood coated mouth, the fangs, or the nails on his sex partner. He simply obeyed, and found the blood tasted oddly sweet yet bitter, drinking thirstily from the generous flow. But then, it was over, darkness claimed him, and he fell back. Jonathan Levinson was dead, forever live Jonathan Levinson. Drusilla laughed a laugh part derangement and part orgasmic afterglow.

A long while later his eyes opened, and despite it being night, everything seemed clearer right away. The former Jonathan Levinson rose from the dead, and growled. Vamped out, his eyes settled on Drusilla. “My goddess,” he said with a throaty aroused growl, as he took in the sheer red negligee that clung to his maker’s curves.

“Ooh,” Drusilla purred with pleasure, looking at the still naked form of the new vampire. “My Hobbit in the Night, so beautiful.” Jonathan had crossed the distance between the two, and grabbed Drusilla by her hair. He pulled her face down with force and kissed her fiercely. He broke the kiss apart, and Drusilla murmured, “The streets shall run red with blood.”

“Speaking of blood, I’m a little peckish, my goddess. You won’t mind if I go out for a little while, will you?” Jonathan asked with a grin.

“Bring me something?” Drusilla pouted sweetly.

“Any preferences, Dru-baby?” Jonathan asked with a smirk. He could practically taste the blood sliding down his throat, delicious blood of the still living.

“Surprise me, Jon,” Drusilla whispered, as she sensually laid herself down onto the bed.

Jonathan looked at his clothes and made a face, “Yeugh, and get some new clothes while I’m at it.”

*****

Inside The Bronze
Same Time

Buffy sat in the corner booth that she and her friends usually occupied when just hanging at the Bronze, but without said friends it really wasn’t doing much for her. She’d done a sweep earlier, as soon as she got here in fact. Just in time too, as she’d caught sight of a couple vamps leading some not-too-bright-teens out the back towards the alley. She’d swooped in at the last second just to save the terrified coeds who couldn’t be bothered to stop screaming long enough to say thank you. Who knew Sunnydale High’s starting quarterback was a soprano?

Anyway, the slaying had gone well. Well... well enough she supposed. She’d pulled out the rapier short sword that she felt a compulsion to wear on her person that night when gearing up for patrol. Thankfully the suede jacket she’d also worn with her outfit made the perfect hiding spot for it, as well as making it easy to retrieve.

On a whim, after cutting up the first two vamps piece by piece, she pulled out a bottle of holy water and practically soaked her blade with it. Upon contact with the next vamp, it screamed and started to smoke, and the funny part was that it wasn’t a scream of pain, but anger and it shouted about scars instead of being more worried about being killed by the Slayer. She sighed and proceeded to take it apart as she had the others. A hand here, a piece of arm over there, and an ear somewhere. Finally, the vamp had enough and tried running. She couldn’t have that now, so, with a quick burst of Slayer agility and some improvisation from a little voice in her head, she cut off a power line going to one of the other buildings and watched as it slowly swung down and caught the vampire square in the back.

After the maneuver was over, Buffy realized how incredibly lucky she was. First off, she was holding a /metal/ sword, covered in highly conductive water, but the worst she got from cutting the live wire was a small tingle and a warm palm. Another piece of luck, she realized as the wire struck the vamp just as his foot landed in a puddle of gutter water, was that thanks to the water on her sword, the wire had a few drops on it, making it primed for exactly what she had in mind. In short, electrocuting the vampire into paralysis.

When all was said and done, the vampire was burned to ash thanks to the sparks starting a fire in the vamp’s own clothes, but it left a funky smell afterwards. Looking around and seeing no other vamps, Buffy had put her sword away and walked around to the main entrance. She vaguely remembered hearing the alley door open again, but shrugged it off as kids sneaking out to smoke. She certainly didn’t sense any more vampires in the area.

Her civic duty done for the evening, she’d settled down to have a good time as a normal teenager, only for her to get bored a minute after she’d finished her drink and been listening to a song she’d heard almost a hundred times already in her lifetime. Normally she might engage Xander in conversation, or beg him to play with his sword some more. She’d prefer gossiping and talking with Willow, but with them off doing /training/, she had little else to occupy herself with.

Suddenly, she got an idea. She smirked, remembering Willow’s permission. Eying Cordelia and her Cordettes, she briefly considered what she was doing when the idea turned into an urge. Her face adopted one of conscious superiority, one that had been all too present on Amanda’s visage in the day to day. After all, just because Buffy didn’t have anything to occupy herself with did not mean that /Amanda/ didn’t.

She briefly considered and rejected several approaches and ways of getting what she wanted, and then finally settled on testing just how good she really was. After all, anybody can do the pickpocket thing with a distraction or a second getting the mark in just the right position. She’d also proven that she could slide right past a person, have them look her in the eye even, and still get away clean, as she’d proven several days ago with Larry. But she had not yet undergone the ultimate test, being able to steal from a person, right under their nose, without them even suspecting that you were there in the first place.

Less than ten minutes later, Buffy was at the bar, struggling to contain her giggles as she watched Cordelia and all of her posse scramble and search their purses for the cash, or even credit cards to pay for the drinks they’d already ordered and the ones they were trying to order. After watching them run around like chickens with their heads cut off, (disturbingly she had actual memories of what that looked like), before they finally just gave up and left, presumably to go home. On their way out, Buffy proved just how good she could be by reverse pickpocketing Harmony - she put Cordelia’s and most of the other girls’ credit cards into Harmony’s purse. Harmony’s credit cards went to the Bronze Lost & Found.

Meanwhile, with all the extra cash she suddenly had on hand, Buffy bought everybody in the nightclub a free drink and made sure that for the rest of the night the DJ only played her favorite songs. Settling back into her booth with her ‘free drink’, Buffy smirked and enjoyed the rest of her stress free evening.

*****

For someone with his technological prowess, turning off the alarms of the clothing stores had been easy. Afterwards, he had picked out his new clothes. He had always imagined himself better dressed than he was now – more sophisticated, but had never had the guts, instead sticking with his nerd threads. No longer, this was a new world, his goddess had made him see that. He had gathered several pairs of trousers, and more stylish jeans, along with button shirts, and smooth T-Shirts in various colors. Finally he’d gotten several jackets, some from suits, others leather. He had stuffed them in some of the store’s bags after using a pair of scissors to cut off the price tags. Leaving only the outfit he was putting on – jeans, a blue t-shirt and a dark green suit jacket – and his old outfit free. He thought for a moment, and noticed the store sold Zippo lighters. He took multiple. One he opened up and poured the lighter fluid over his old clothes. A second he lit up, and tossed onto the pile, which was immediately set ablaze. Then he took the bags containing his ‘purchases’ and left.

As he walked away from the burning store, an evil smile on his face, he thought, *Now for take out.*

He headed toward the Bronze area, deciding some of his former classmates would make great dinner. It was not long after that he came across a couple walking away from the Bronze. The guy was average height, and the girl was blond, a little shorter then the guy. Jonathan grinned, recognizing them easily.

“Scottie!” he called. “Scott Hope, and Michelle, fancy meeting you here.”

“Jonathan?” Scott asked, checking a second time. The young man before him, dressed in immaculate clothing, was a far cry from the nerd he knew. “What happened to you?”

“Something wonderful, something you wouldn’t understand, or believe,” Jonathan told him with a grin.

“You look ridiculous,” the girl told him.

Jonathan peered at the pretty blond, one of the more popular girls. “Of course, I do. A nerd that’s dressed sophisticatedly and with great care, couldn’t possibly be anything other than ridiculous, right, Michelle? Might mean the cool crowd gets dethroned – quickly, put them down in their places,” Jonathan mocked happily.

Scott Hope felt the need to stand up for his date, and said, “And you think you’re cool now, is that it, Jonathan?”

Jonathan smiled eerily gently, evil glittering in his eyes, and said, “Oh, I don’t know, is room temperature enough?” Michelle and Scott looked confused, and then Jonathan vamped out. Michelle screamed, Scott yelled with shock, but Jonathan was already on him. A kick to the stomach doubled the boy over with impossible ease and with impossible strength that a terrified Scott found he had no hope of defeating, Jonathan brought Scott’s arms behind his back. Then his fangs sank into the back of Scott’s neck, and he screamed with pain and fear as he felt his blood and life drain out of him.

Michelle screamed again, and attempted to run, but Jonathan’s predatory yellow eyes switched to her, and bore into her via her eyes. *Sit down, and shut up,* was the mental command, and she did so like a puppet on a string. Unable to scream she watched with large terrified eyes as Jonathan continued draining Scott dry.

*Who would have thought all that dabbling in magic would pay off this well,* Jonathan thought to himself with a grin that made him spill a little of Scott’s blood.

Less then a minutes later, depriving his brain of blood by drinking it from his neck before it could get there, Scott was dead. It took Jonathan another minute to drain him completely dry, and then he unceremoniously dumped him in a nearby alleyway. “Ah, that hit the spot,” he said to no one in particular, and looked down at the terrified Michelle. “Now, Michelle, you will make a fine gift to my goddess Drusilla.” Finally, he picked up the bags with his new clothes once again, and dragged the motionless blond along by her mane of golden locks.

To Be Continued . . .

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