Fic: Intervention 2/7
Mar. 14th, 2012 03:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crys_lochVampire Stories, story 3
BtVS / Buffy/Willow/Xander
NC- 17
Summery: There are some who know what happened. There are some who have also been betrayed. Enter Giles, Jenny and Cordelia.
Intervention, part 2.
Disclaimers and warnings are listed in part 1 and still apply.
East Holly Street. Buffy, Willow and Xander stopped a few blocks down the hill under the street sign indicating what street their new home to be was on. Retail stores and lunch counter restaurants lined the streets here: futon shop, clothing store, toys, travel, books, art gallery; all closed. The streets were quiet, deserted. They looked around them, then back to each other, deciding what to do.
"I'm hungry." Xander paced a short circle in front of Buffy and Willow, stopping at times to bounce on the balls of his feet.
Buffy casually watched him. "Well, there's a whole city full of people out there. I'm sure you can find something as we check this place out."
"Should we split up? We could see more of the city that way and compare notes." Willow suggested.
Buffy shrugged. "Sure, sounds good. The motel is back up the road and a right on Samish Way, right?"
"Yeah," Willow confirmed. "I was thinking I'd head back towards the college anyway, only down by the water. With the moon out tonight, it'll be nice."
"Well then, I'll just take off. See where this road goes. Maybe find the edge of the city." Xander gave a quick kiss to each of the women and not waiting for a reply, set off quickly down the road.
Willow watched him disappear. "It's different for him, isn't it?"
"This is different for all of us." Buffy gently reminded Willow.
"I mean it's different for him than it is for us." Willow clarified. Anxious eyes looked into Buffy's for some reassurance.
Buffy shrugged and looked down at the sidewalk. "I get it. He's fine, Will. He's a vampire... he's fine." She looked back up and into Willow's eyes. "You're going to hunt, right? Not just walk by the water."
Willow stepped up to Buffy and placing her arms around her shoulders, started playing with Buffy's hair. She gave Buffy a quick kiss then smiled as she looked deeply into her eyes. "The way you keep asking me that, I'm starting to think you're worried about me or something. Haven't I hunted every night?"
Buffy matched her gaze and shook her head slightly. "Not really. Hunted is a definite stretch of the term for you."
Willow glanced at the ground as she considered Buffy's words. She raised her eyes back to Buffy's, letting a touch of self assurance shine clear in her look. "Well 'hunting' as you call it is a little new for me. I do feed. Besides, do you forget who turned you?"
Buffy wrapped her arms around Willow and pulled her close against her. "I never forget that."
Willow's eyes hardened and she kissed Buffy again. Lowering her arms around Buffy's back, Willow crushed her to herself with a vampire's strength. The kiss was hard, passionate, consuming, possessive and she only let up when she heard Buffy's moan. Willow pulled back and smiled when she saw the touch of defiance mixed with passion in Buffy's eyes. Willow softened her face, started stroking Buffy's hair again and whispered, "I've always been able to do what I felt I had to do. I even worried less about the consequences than I think you did. Don't worry. I'm just trying not to lose myself again. But I remember what I am."
Buffy stepped back when she felt Willow's arms release her. She ran a hand through her hair and slowly a smile formed as she looked at the woman, the only person, that could have turned her. "Okay, okay, you're right. Besides, I don't want to lose you either, Will. Go on, grab a bite, take your midnight stroll. I'm just gonna check it out around here I think."
"Okay." Willow stepped back a few paces. "I'll meet you back at the motel." She turned to start down the side street and towards the bay then stopped and smiled back at Buffy. "And maybe one of these nights, you'll teach me how to hunt." Not waiting for a reply, Willow took off quickly down the side street.
Buffy watched as Willow disappeared down the now abandoned street. A small smile formed when she remembered the Willow she first met and her head shook slightly at the image of teaching that Willow, this Willow, any Willow to hunt. She had assumed it was instinctive to the demon and thought Willow had just been fighting it. Maybe Willow's personality really was overwhelming the demon. There had always been a prevailing force inside her. However unsure or insecure she seemed, a determination would spark in her eyes and suddenly a great force was standing beside you, or sometimes in front of you: opposing. It wasn't just with the magic, Buffy realized. She remembered it was Willow who stopped her from running away again after that summer in LA. It was just Willow who confronted her, called her out on everything. Buffy shook the thoughts from her mind, her hunger roaring past the din of her musings. This wasn't the time to figure it all out. Heading downhill on East Holly street, Buffy considered that maybe she should make the time, though.
Buffy strolled down the street, peeking in the windows of closed shops. When she caught herself pausing in front of a travel agency and staring at the pictures of a tropical beach, she picked up the pace and walked determinedly towards the lights and noise of the part of the city still open and awake. Railroad Ave. the sign named the still busy cross street. Cars slowly circled its length, searching for parking down the side and even against the center median. It seemed more parking lot than road. Open stores and restaurants lined the area on either side. This, it seemed, was one of the centers of nightlife in the city. Buffy turned down Railroad and started her hunt.
Groups of friends, couples, solitary men ducking into the adult video store: Buffy could hear the roar of hearts beating, smell the unique scent of everyone walking past her, ahead, behind, all around her on the sidewalk. She walked slowly, allowing someone to approach her if they liked, hoping that no one would, that it wouldn't be that easy. Her mood was growing more predatory as she passed an easy victim standing alone and checking his watch. She hoped to find someone who would give her more trouble. The street ended at a city transportation station. Busses pulled up and left, train tracks laid in close. Buffy crossed over to the station and started towards its shadows, hoping she would find the element that always seemed to hang out at these places.
There it was, at the end of a parking lot; two guys in sports team jackets and baseball caps standing around a car off and away from everything. Buffy watched as another car pulled up beside them and a short conversation took place through the window. A moment at most, the guys stepped back and the car pulled away. Buffy smiled as she crossed the parking lot. She needed a fight as much as a kill.
"Hey guys, what'cha doin'?" Buffy called over to them as she neared. They eyed her warily and willingly as she approached. Buffy kept her hands loosely at her sides and her face a calm mask. Only her eyes betrayed an edge of aggression as she stared unerringly into theirs and stopped a few feet away. Buffy could see their breaths faintly in the cool night air. She easily picked up the skip of their heartbeats. Her tight t-shirt and jeans were in sharp contrast to their oversized jackets and baggy pants. They were large men; their posture and gestures designed to make them appear powerful.
They eyed her appreciatively and their surroundings suspiciously. Finding no one else in the vicinity and nothing out of place, they nodded and smiled in belated confidence. "Well, hello and welcome. You needing something to keep you going tonight?"
Buffy smiled as she appeared thoughtful. "You know... I do."
One of the men stepped closer. He quickly glanced around again then let his eyes travel over her body completely. "We can be enterprising."
"And accommodating," his partner added.
In the end, they proved very accommodating, fight for their life included. Two guns lay kicked aside under the nearby car. Two men lay dropped on the pavement, broken bones jutting their limbs at odd angles. Buffy rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms and back. There was a bruise fading on her jaw and another on her eye. She had let them take their swings; needed to feel raged aggression directed at her, engrave itself on her. They were tentative at first, then foolish and assuming, and finally mindless as the violence escalated in pain and fear. When they realized they were fighting a monster, she got from them what she needed and took from them what she wanted. It was over now and she should move away from the scene. Satisfied was too strong a word, but it took the edge off.
Buffy kept to the shadows and reemerged at East Holly. Turning right and keeping an eye out for Xander in case he was still around, she continued down the now busy street. It was a personable town. Not bright lights, big city: this wasn't LA. But there were restaurants and clubs, the odd retail store still open. People were busy parking and walking, meeting up or just wandering around. She didn't detect an implied threat or a scene. It all felt laid back and casual. A drug store that stocked a bit of everything was still open. The fish taco place was busy. A record store held a large population of the college. Buffy started to cut randomly down the darker side streets between the closed office buildings. Somewhat lost, she came back out to the busier streets downtown. She noted an underground parking garage and continued down the road and found the city's main theater. Posters advertised upcoming concerts and traveling Broadway shows. Buffy pocketed one of the calendars and decided to circle back.
Every part of the city held the scent of the sea in the air, the moisture carried through the streets by the wind. Moss clung to every crack in the sidewalk, the underside of benches, the crevices of buildings. Buffy could smell the rich earthen scent of it against the man made fumes of the city: the oil on the streets, the exhaust of cars, the perfumes and soaps of the people, and conflicting mix of foods from the restaurants. The natural aroma of moss and sea overlaid and overpowered all of it. Seeing the city only at night, and so mostly hidden in shadows, it left Buffy with the impression that the city was only a mirage on a scenic slope down to the sea. The conversations Buffy could overhear were filled with speculations of weather; plans for hiking and skiing and boating, tales of eagle and whale sightings. She heard there was a volcano that towered over a mountain range nearby and always overheard an evening update on how it looked that day. Buffy wondered if she would ever see it some night if the moon rose close.
A main street down the hill brought Buffy to a small park just before the main harbor and behind the old court house. Dutifully reading the sign, she smiled at the dedication to the maritime history. Buffy sat on a bench next to a fountain, deciding to take the moment alone to start to sort some things out. This wasn't her favorite activity, but events this staggering deserved some attention. She was a vampire. Xander was a vampire. And Willow was a vampire.
The fact that she was turned was mostly her not doing. She didn't fight it, accepting her death and relenting to Willow's intentions. She could have done any number of things instead she supposed, but it was Willow. And Willow had always surprised her. She always seemed to blindside her. Buffy focused her thoughts back over the years with Willow. Just when she thought she had Willow figured out, knew what was happening or would happen next... Willow manages to return Angel's soul, Willow gives up life plans to stay in Sunnydale, Willow confesses she has a girlfriend, Willow pulls her back from the dead. Buffy remembered all the wayward spells that came with Willow gaining power faster than proficiency and the havoc they caused. But she only smiled now when she thought of them. It wasn't like life on the Hellmouth was calm anyway. Besides, there were more times when it went right, in key moments, when she counted on her, or when Willow was blindly raging in grief. Willow always had an unerring accuracy when she was angry, with words or magic. It was just always surprising what Willow would choose to aim at. Willow's intentions over the years had played as much of a role in her life as her calling. And her calling changed Willow's life beyond the influence of intentions. Buffy relaxed her thoughts and laid her head back on the bench's backrest. She smiled when she accepted there wasn't anything else she could have done that night Willow turned her. From the moment she entered and altered Willow's life, Willow continually influenced hers. The dynamic spiral of their relationship was stronger than the mortal coil.
Buffy readjusted herself on the bench, leaned against the armrest and brought her feet up. She listened to the fountain and refocused her thoughts on Xander, confident now that this time spent going over events was actually helping. The fact that Xander was turned was all her doing. She remembered the reasons she told herself, used to convince Willow. She wondered every now and again why she really did it and what she was expecting. It had happened before. Her and her calling came barreling into his life and ever after she had felt responsible. Buffy smiled when she guessed how much Xander would hate to hear that. It was true, though. It was also true he had grown into a man she admired. His loyalty, courage, compassion: traits tempered to such strength by years in her life and over the Hellmouth that she knew these last years would not have been survived without him, that the world would not have survived without him. He saw everything from the sidelines she hoped to keep him safe at; and more than was comfortable, was the voice of nagging conscience. When he lost his eye, the group lost their focus. And now... what does it say when she stopped his heart. It was inevitable: Willow and her were turned, their heart had to stop. She had to do it. Before, she felt it was her responsibility to keep him safe, even against his own wishes. Now...what? Was she supposed to keep him in check? Years of controlling her darker nature gave her the strength of choice, the power of free will, even after the severing of the connection to humanity. She no longer felt the burden, the sacred duty, a righteous calling to keep humanity safe. She couldn't even sense a normal obligation to the morality and rules set within humanity to protect it. She could remember them, list them in her mind, but she couldn't feel it. She had choices though, and could choose not to seek its destruction or even to cause it pain. Buffy wondered how much choice Xander really had. He had tried to speak with them once about a calling he felt, and stopped when he realized they did not feel it. Xander was a vampire. Still, he chose to remain with them. Were they less evil? She had been the lawman for years and broke the law all the time, herself. She could never completely reason what was actually good or evil, and the checklist humanity offered was never really a help. Even Xander was for bending a law or two by the end. What right now did she have to influence him against his nature? Buffy ran her hand through her hair and considered purposely sighing for effect. She is his sire, his friend and now, even his lover. She has some rights. And he did choose them.
Buffy got up from the bench and started to wander slowly around the park, no longer able to sit still. The level of contemplation had inevitably sunk to a depth she always found suffocating. Good and evil. Layers and layers of gray seemed to bury her when she thought about it. If she had simply allowed herself to be molded by the Council instead of just trained, she was sure the questions in her mind would have been long muted. Of course, so would her life. She was certain of that as well. So she had always trusted her gut when the questions came up and shot from the hip. Now her gut was eerily silent. Were they simply all evil now? Willow was adamant that they weren't. Willow was a vampire now. Buffy stopped and stared unseeing at the lights of ships in the harbor, a full moon giving a surreal glow to the unfocussed scene. The fact that Willow was turned was what... a vampire's doing? A sublime act of chaos? It couldn't have been fated. After everything they had been through, after defeating the blackest of gray and what claimed to be and clearly was actual evil, it couldn't have been fate. Maybe Willow was right, and there is no God. If this could happen, after all that, and there is a God; she only questioned more the line between good and evil. It could have been Karma, Buffy reasoned, then shook her head and the thoughts purposely away. It had happened, and everything past that had been carried along. Buffy knew Willow had a deep need to make everything all right in the aftermath. Willow formed a plan and set everything up as her way of easing consequences, and Buffy simply went along with it; supporting Willow till she slowed down enough to find her balance. Here they stood. In a city that felt far from the Hellmouth and as open to possibilities as the sea it merged into. Buffy took a deep breath, letting the scent settle her. Questions remained unanswered but events that had happened anyway lay easier in her mind now. It was time to move on.
Buffy noticed it was Holly street that crossed the front of the park and started back. At Railroad Ave., she turned to dutifully explore the other side; remembering she was supposed to give a report of what she found in the city. This side of the road ended in a parking lot surrounded by a no-tell motel and what used to be warehouses. The buildings now held restaurants, condos and clubs. The two buildings at the end had blacked out windows at street level. Curious, Buffy walked down to check it out. The first building at the end was obviously a club. Music slipped out the door as college age kids walked down dark stairs and inside. A discreet sign over the entrance named the club Rumors. Remembering what Willow said about how you can always tell by the sign, Buffy followed her hunch and entered the club.
Flyers tacked to posts and a wall were the only real give-away. It felt like a college hangout. It felt a little like the Bronze back home. There were a couple of pool tables up front. Booths lined the walls, tables with comfortable chairs filled the center, and of course a bar along the side. Men, women, the odd couple; it seemed to be just friends talking with friends, though she was sure there was some flirting and pick-up lines tossed in. Buffy heard the music drifting into the space from a hallway beside the bar and investigated further. Peering around the corner at the end of the short hall she found the dance floor in the room behind the bar wall. It was filled; gay, straight, groups; a good DJ keeping everyone moving. Buffy smiled. It was a slightly bent, over 21 only Bronze. It was a spot of normalcy and she couldn't wait to tell the others about it. Buffy slipped out of the bar and continued down to the other building at the very end of Railroad.
Again, a small sign: The Hungry Ghost. A heavy steel door blocked most sound from escaping and made entry uninvited and intentional. Buffy decided to try it anyway, never fearing to enter a place before. The music was much louder here, stronger; an industrial, dark, penetrating vibration. A bar opened to tables that opened to a small dance floor. A balcony lined the far wall, the edge crowded with onlookers and people seeking conversation. It took a moment to register over the music, but as Buffy made her way to the bar, she heard all her internal warning bells go off, every latent Slayer sense assaulted. There were demons here, and vampires, and looking again around the place, the distinct scent and heartbeats of humans. Buffy smiled as some memories came to mind. She missed the good ol' days when she would just bust into a place like this and feel the fear of the patrons as she'd confidently get what she came for like an old west sheriff. She missed the confrontations. People just weren't a challenge and she wasn't the law anymore and had no reason to come storming in now. Buffy quietly made her way to the end of the bar and sat down. She wanted to sit back and see what a place like this was about.
The bartender, a young handsome vampire with a friendly smile, quickly came over to Buffy to take her order. "You're new here," he called over the music. "I'd have remembered you. I'm great with faces, especially the pretty ones. What can I get ya?"
Buffy smiled at the compliment but hesitated, not sure what to order. She didn't really drink and the few times she did, she didn't really enjoy Spike's brand of whatever it was. The bartender seemed sweet, and she didn't want to call much attention to herself, so she tried some charming innocence. "Hi. I am new. At this. What do you recommend?"
The bartender considered quickly and his smile grew when he had just the thing. Leaning closer to Buffy, he kept his voice low as he made his suggestion, knowing she could hear him. "A Long Sloe Comfortable Screw."
"Excuse me?!" Buffy pulled back slightly.
The bartender laughed gently and straightened back, giving her some space again. He raised his hands up in mock defense. "It's the name of a drink. I swear. You've never had one?" He paused and let the double meaning play. Seeing her raise her eyebrow, he continued. "I can do that for you. You'll try one now." He winked at her and turned to the center of the bar to make the order. He guessed she was a newbie. They were so much fun to play with. Still, the boss wanted to know each time one came in. The bartender caught the attention of a young man standing amid the crowd at the other end of the bar and motioned with a nod of his head towards Buffy.
Buffy caught the look, the motion, and watched as the man excused himself and started slowly over to her. She hoped the young vampire tending bar couldn't sense she had been a Slayer. She missed parts of the old days, but had a whole new life to think about now. She really was trying to fit in.
The bartender set the drink in front of Buffy and waved her off when she tried to pay. "First time is on the house." He smiled, winked again, and returned to helping other customers.
Buffy warily turned the tall glass in her hand. She recognized orange juice, but had no idea what else to expect. Taking an experimental sip, her eyes widened as the hard alcohol burned her throat slightly. Still, it wasn't that bad. The juice mellowed most of it. Plus, she admitted, it had a fun name. Buffy noticed the man was completing the circuit of handshaking around the bar and was almost to her. She took a deeper drink and braced herself.
Buffy watched as he silently took the seat next to her. Asian eyes, short black hair, black slacks, black button-up silk shirt: all of it well cut, tailored, styled. Clearly, he was the owner, Buffy realized. She remained as silent as he. It was a simple, old game; and she would wait and drink her drink.
The bar owner gave this new vampire a moment to say something. He always gained information from the way they first reacted towards him. This one, he realized quickly, wasn't near as young as she first seemed. So he would take the time to get to know what might be a new player in town. It always proved the best way to keep his place peaceful. He motioned for the bartender to bring him a drink and settled comfortably and confidently in his seat. Turning to the young woman, he held out his hand. "Hi. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Jack."
Buffy smiled to him and shook his hand. She caught herself as she started to reply 'Buffy' and switched to her alias. "Joan. Joan Morte." He didn't start off with calling her 'Slayer', so she thought maybe no-one had guessed it. Maybe it was just the owner checking out the newest demon in his bar for trouble. Buffy tried to relax, continued to sip her drink and appear non-threatening. "So you're the owner?"
"Yes." Jack nodded gratefully to the bartender and accepted his martini. "Yes, this place is my sanctuary."
Buffy smiled and nodded her understanding. "So, you're here to give the rules and regulations, then?"
Jack smiled and sipped his drink. "Something like that. You're new here, aren't you?"
Buffy nodded. An easy enough question but she worried how many more would follow. She kept her eyes mostly on her drink but stayed aware of his demeanor. "Yeah, we just came into town."
"We?" Jack tried to keep his voice conversational.
Buffy ran her finger down the length of the glass. "A couple of friends and I."
"And, you've been to places such as mine before?" Jack gently pressed. He leaned back, offering her space and sipped at his drink.
Buffy shrugged. "Never much of a patron before, but ya." She sipped more of her drink, enjoying the slight burn of it now, and wondered how much to reveal. She liked him. There was something peaceful about the man. He wasn't challenging, though he did seem curious. He was confident and she had no doubt he could hold his own if provoked. Buffy had the sense it would take a great deal of provoking to move this man into violence. He reminded her a little of Giles. She was suddenly surprised he wasn't drinking tea.
Jack continued to watch her patiently. There was something familiar about her. There was something he should know, something she wouldn't tell him. He was certain the name she gave him was new, not only by her hesitation, but the name itself, Morte, was clearly a name given to the vampire. She appeared controlled, confident and tired. He could tell she was exhausted. He guessed it was the accumulation of experiences that led to the confidence more than a cocky self assurance. She kept looking at her drink and away from him. He grew less worried and only more curious. He hoped she wanted peace. "You look familiar. Forgive me, have we met before? Forgive me again, may I ask how old you are?"
Buffy laughed. "You aren't supposed to ask a girl that question." She turned to look at him. "No, we haven't met. I could counter with how old do I look to you?"
Jack laughed. "I'm old enough to know better than to answer that. I only meant... I swear, I should know you."
Buffy shook her head slightly. "I'm sure we've never met. You'd have remembered me. How about you start. How old are you?"
Jack noticed her drink was getting low and signaled the bartender to refill it. He motioned away any protest. "Again, on me. It is not often I get to know such a beautiful woman. I am old, I'll admit it. Perhaps even too old for you. This place, it keeps me feeling young, though."
"I'm not here to find anyone," Buffy gently asserted. "Moving on though, I don't think I have a 'too old for me'. Trust me. And you didn't answer the question."
Jack laughed again. It felt good to laugh. She was quick, aware his 'getting to know you' questions weren't simply mild flirtations and skilled at answering without revealing anything more. Plus, she took the opportunity to gain information as well. All while remaining civilized and even playful. There were very few he considered friends, and even less who intrigued him. He hoped this strange woman whose name he still didn't know could become one. "I am a little over 600 years old. Passed 300, you really stop counting between them."
Buffy was surprised. She thought by that age, vampires looked less and less human. This one appeared no older than 25 and handsome as well. "Wow. Okay, you win. You are old."
"And you?" Jack gently reminded her it was her turn.
"Oh, I'm 22." Buffy accepted the drink refill with a silent thank you to the bartender. "I promise, legal to drink. I can show you my ID."
Jack shook his head. "I meant total years."
"That is total years." Buffy shrugged. "I'm totally 22. Your bartender guessed it right, you know. I'm new."
Jack shook his head slightly again and leaned back in his seat. "Then may I ask where you're from?"
Buffy considered the question and her answer. She took a few sips of her drink and wished her gut could tell her something. Her mind liked him, though. He was treading softly and respectfully in his inquiries. She reasoned that if there were enough demons in this city to support a bar then someone, someday would recognize her. It would come out. She didn't want it to come out just yet, though. She could hint and see how he reacted. "I'm from Sunnydale. Have you heard of it?"
Jack was grateful she decided to honestly answer the question. He had watched her and knew this was a deliberate choice. Her answer helped to piece some of the puzzle together in his mind. And it was enough for now. He was certain he hadn't gained any real knowledge of her yet, but experience told him he would not gain it by pressing. "I've heard of it. Rough town. A Hellmouth and a Slayer. The greatest Slayer by all the accounts that drifted up here." Jack was surprised by her short laugh as she waved off his comment. "I didn't mean to pry. As you guessed, I came over to clarify the rules in this establishment." He smiled when she turned to him, clearly open and listening to him. "As I said, this is my sanctuary. I only want peace. So, please, no fighting inside, and no hunting. If you find prey here, take them far, far away. I deplore police even more than violence." He watched as she nodded her assent and held her eyes with his own for as long as he could, hoping to show her he meant no harm. "And I honestly hope I'll see you here again soon, Joan." He rose from his chair and offered his hand again. When she brought her hand to his, he raised it to his lips. He returned her smile and went back to mingle with the patrons.
Buffy finished her drink and waved good bye to the cute bartender. It was deep into the night now, but there was still plenty of time before daylight. The air was sharply cold and she could almost see the moisture condensing through it. The cars, the road, even her skin collected the droplets. Buffy smiled and started towards the motel. This wasn't her old home, this clearly wasn't Sunnydale. Sunnydale held its heat long into the night, the dry pavement radiating the days sun back into the wee hours. This could be a new start. Buffy was sure by the way that Jack said her name at the end that he was aware it was only an alias. She knew that the Slayer part of her had teased the edges of his senses. He would probably figure it out. She was cautiously certain of two things after that: that he would be all right with the knowledge and that he would be more curious than ever. She hoped so, at least. If he asked her questions, she could do the same. A 600 year old vampire who looked that well preserved and deplored violence intrigued her.
The alcohol swayed her walk a little and Buffy giggled in concentration. She should grab something to eat before making it back to their room. She had entered and exited a demon bar without even threatening anyone. My, how the world had changed. She looked up at the stars and almost expected them to be in different patterns. She did miss the violence. She could admit it now as she missed it more and more. People couldn't provide the challenge she was used to. She shouldn't even call it hunting anymore. It felt nothing more than selecting and killing. Even earlier tonight, it wasn't a real fight. Buffy wasn't sure what she felt about that. She craved the blood; and the power of their life as she drew it inside herself felt amazing still, and sated her. But she was used to some risk: an adrenaline rush very different than what she experienced now. Buffy noticed a young man leaving a group of friends and walking to his car. She approached him vampire visage in place. Maybe she could at least have the chase.
* * * * * * * * *
Jenny Calendar lay curled in a tight ball on the motel bed. The room remained darkened; even the pale, broad illumination of the now setting full moon burned too vivid. The sound and smell of the sea washed into the room through an open window and she breathed slowly through the pain and willed the ocean outside to carry her out of this jagged and rusted reality. Jenny wished for anything and anyone to take her away from this. The tribe, her people, they brought her to this place, the last place Buffy, Willow and Xander were alive. They provided a little food, some water, clothes, money and the reason she had been summoned. Their voices remained calm and neutral even as they detailed a great injustice that would forever haunt this place, the tear in the order of things they felt so compelled to mend. She would be their seamstress in this darkness. They tied her to the thread of these three lives and charged her to fix it. Then they left.
Jenny replayed their stories again and again in her mind. They would be canon Romani tales soon: these three friends who rose to battle every challenge; who passed stumbling and bloody, yet standing at the end of each gauntlet; who stood through their trials free at each verdict. Her tribesmen retold the journeys of heroes as myths with an already practiced ease and she was certain these three kids she barely remembered were to be legends. She replayed their story because she couldn't remember the epilogue to her own. She could only remember the last act, her own attempt at a redemption and the face of her beast, the feel of his hands on her head and then there was nothing. She had failed. They had lived on and Angelus faded into their past as just another trial. The climatic end of her own story was just an early chapter in their own. Years had gone on since she passed out of the tales and she could scarcely believe what the fates put these three children through. The tribe had continued to watch them since Angelus intersected their destinies and ancient Romani magics were resurrected at the crossroads. They loved them now as their own. Romani traditions allowed her tribesmen to recognize the journeys for what they were even as it passed unknown to the participants. And the end to the tale of heroes was not an undead existence as vampires. For her people, stories were the order of the world. People were only players in tales retold over ages: tales of love, vengeance, and honor. And ever so rarely, tales of heroes. There was a tear in the order of this world, and she was summoned to repair it.
Jenny's only memory of the years passing since her death was a deep feeling and understanding of warmth that was now gone to the pain of being confined to a body, to the constant assault of physical sensations in this world. She couldn't imagine living again. So she replayed impossible tales that really happened and let herself love these children too. She couldn't believe her own people would do this to her, yet she clung here near the shore to the corner stone of her life before: loyalty to the tribe above all others and the tales that kept the order of the world. They told her where to find the vampires. As dry sobs shook her body again, she despaired at the fate that would ask her to do this alone. She would find Rupert. He had remained a part: entering and exiting the stories. He still lived.
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