I walked carefully in the silent school. Just because it was gloomy and quiet didn't mean that no one was about. Though pretty much everywhere in town as of late had been gloomy and quiet.

I found myself, out of habit, making my way to H hall and the band room. It had been three years, almost. Three years since I graduated high school. And yet this path stayed etched in my mind.

What had I done in those years? Attempted to go to college, gotten called as a vampire slayer, attempted to stay in college at UC Sunnydale...And here I was, back in Fort Wayne, my hometown, finding out that this place was another ticking time bomb, a suddenly all-too-active hellmouth - with my name on it.

I pushed open the swinging door and stepped into the band room, laughing as a thought occurred to me. Here I was, back at the beginning. The very place that they'd all told me to go to Hell. Back then, I'd been convinced this was place was Hell. I'd had no idea how right I was.

I glanced around the room. Still smelled the same. Like rain. Paper. Sweat. I kicked a stray gym shoe out of my way. I stared up at the huge orange number one, the 1983 band members and staff scrawled on it. The brown wall behind it, clad with plaques and carpet sound-proofing tiles. The circle of fifths painted on the opposite side of the blackboard.

My gaze lingered on the centered blackboard. It was littered with colored chalk, sectional times scrawled by different hands on the left side. The dates and times of upcoming marching band competitions, all written in my former band director's still-familiar hand. ISSMA District - October 2nd. I gave a rueful smile. Today was September 30th. The high school had been closed indefinitely by the mayor, as had almost all local schools. Technically, I was breaking the law by being here, but considering the police force had dwindled by about three-fourths, I really wasn't concerned.

The band room existed in perpetual disarray, especially during marching band season. Stray pages of music and drill littered the floor. Various articles of clothing, flags, props, and gym and jazz shoes tumbled out of the tiny color guard room, ending in a pile by a bank of instrument lockers.

I took the far way around to the back room to the rest of the lockers. I passed the band office, then decided to go inside. I pushed open the door.Thehead director'soffice door remained shut, as did the connecting door to the choir room.

I saw nothing in the immediate area, nothing supernatural at least. I spotted a picture of my brother on the bulletin board amid various other student pics. It had been taken my freshman year at band camp. He had been on staff as EMT, as he had for all my years in band. There were pictures of Italy, from the trip in '97. Other past trips, band members, family members. I recognized some of the faces.

The head director's office looked the same. He'd pulled me in here a few times my senior year to check on me. Cheering me on, basically. And I still appreciated that. I remember him offering to mediate between Kyle and I. Though I think that was motivated by a need to smooth things over between a section leader and a drum major, rather than friends.

I turned and closed that door again. I stepped past the main desk, mountains of papers, trophies, and the filing cabinets of music. The assistant director's office sat here. He'd called me in to talk me out of quitting band my sophomore year. I left the band office. And was out in the land of music stands and marching band trophies. I continued to the back room, ignoring the thousands of memories flooding my mind.

Band lockers galore. An even messier floor. There - that had been Amy's locker. Over there, Tim's. And my mello locker. I still had a picture, somewhere, of me sitting in it.

The lights flickered and I realized I was not alone.

"Not so different, are we?" Jake Reynolds uttered. He lay on a drum shelf, stretched out. "Returning to old comforts when things get crazy."

I didn't say anything and kept my stake hidden. Even in the shadows, or maybe more so because of, my former friend had "vampire" written all over him. With all the evil what-not in Fort Wayne, with the town about to be swallowed whole into Hell, maybe this wouldn't come to death. For him. Then again, Jake didn't even know I was a vampire slayer.

"Why are you here, Jessica?" he asked, sitting up and dangling his legs.

"Guess I had to see the place one last time," I replied as he stood.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too. I mean, we all would have been back here this weekend anyway for District, right?" He waited for a response. When I gave none, he continued, "Kyle and Melissa and I were supposed to meet up Saturday. Hey, you knew she had a baby, right?" I couldn't suppress a smirk and a snicker. "Got what she deserved?"

"No," I responded honestly. "I feel for the baby. Nine months and dilated, and Melissa didn't even know."

Jake threw me a withering glance. So, okay. Here we were, standing in the back room, just like old times. Only too much had changed. Hell, the last time the two of us were back here, we weren't friends. We weren't talking. Whatever words spoken had been accusatory, in anger and hurt.

I thought back to Jake's comment about meeting Kyle and Melissa and whomever else on Saturday. If this was so, it was safe to assume Jake had been sired in the past few days. Ergo, the chances were slim that he knew of vampire slayers, and slimmer still that he would recognize me as a slayer.

"I really did mean it when I apologized to you?" Jake said.

"Mmm. Okay." He was drawing nearer. My adrenaline started pumping automatically. But I didn't fear him. "Still planning on meeting up with everyone on Saturday?"

"Doubt they'll hold the competition now. This town seems to have a funny effect on people lately. But I think Kyle's back in town. I'll send him your love."

Never attack in anger, I told myself. No matter what. But he mentioned Kyle, and Jake knew damn well...I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down and focus. I looked in Jake's eyes and saw the bloodlust.

"I have missed being around you," he tried again. "Senior year for marching band, that was a blast, you have to admit."

"Uh, sure. I broke the senior protocol. You three got pissed. I couldn't help it. You, Kyle, and Melissa annoyed the crap out of me." I grinned.

"The feeling was mutual." Jake scowled again. I laughed.

"Funny, I never gave a damn. Guess that's why you all kicked off your way less-than-stellar careers as poets."

Another scowl. Good. I just needed to push him past the boiling point. Which really shouldn't be too hard.

"Yeah, well, you gave us plenty to write about. Colin and Nick and all. Not to mention your fat ass."

I snorted.

"God knows I asked you every day to write about me. I begged and pleaded! Right. And after all these years, the best you can come up with is insulting my butt? Still? Do you not get new material?" Jake's eyes flashed while I rolled mine. "It's okay, though. I understand. Leah's not around anymore to tell you what to say and when to say it. She always was jealous of me. And you and Kyle never had the balls to stand up to her. Or to anyone, for that matter."

Bingo! I could feel the heat radiating off him. If he had a pulse, it would be racing and his breathing would be a lot faster. Jake was royally pissed. Ah, this would be...well, okay. Not so enjoyable. I was getting carried away. But I'd started this. I'd picked a fight with a former best friend. A former best friend that was now a vampire. And being the slayer, I was going to have to kill the demon that had claimed his soul. Funny, I never used to believe he'd had one in the first place.

"I never had the balls to stand up to her? To you?" he repeated, uber-annoyed now.

"Is there an echo? And, no. Never. Hell, I said jump, you said how high. Your only method of retaliation was talking about people behind their backs! Pathetic." I made myself sound bored. I hoped he'd vamp out soon. I wanted to play, to get this over with.

"Maybe I've got some 'new material'. Maybe I do have other ways," Jake replied menacingly.

Whee! My time spent as a theatre major flashed through my mind. This time, though tempted, I suppressed a smile. Instead, I shrank back.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" I faltered.

"This." Jake vamped. I threw in a scream for good measure. Here we go! Jake seized me. I froze, then promptly began struggling. He was strong.

"No," I moaned. "Jake! Please! No!" I anticipated kicking his butt. I was stronger.

"Going to scream for help next? Go ahead, Blondie. You're alone. Just like always. No one cares about you. Just like senior year, slut," he hissed. Jake slammed me against a wall of lockers. Ouch! Damn it, he was going to pay for bruising me! I bided my time. "I've changed since high school, for the better"

"You - you're a vampire!" I shrieked.

"Yeah, seems I am." Jake gave a hideous grin. "Guess all your stories were true, after all. Now hold still, Jess. This won't hurt. For long."

I stopped struggling and went limp. This threw him off.

"Biting my neck now?" I whispered. "I'm not doing the blood drinking thing. Though I know I'm not cool enough to be in your little undead clique."

Jake stared at me in confusion, still holding me fast against the lockers.

"And you know? I am so having a lock or two dig into my back right now," I said conversationally. "Not a very nice way to treat an old friend. Attacking the innocent, attempting to drink her blood." He continued staring, completely taken aback. "Yeah, Jake. I guess I forgot to mention something to you. We've been so busy catching up! You telling me, well, showing me, how much you've changed since we were here last...Well, I so appreciate it."

"Wh-what are you getting at, Jessica?" Same odd look on his face.

"I've changed too, baby." I brought my arms up between his and knocked them away. The force would have broken any human's arms, but Jake would be merely bruised. "Ooh. That had to hurt. Consider it payback for the locks in my back, 'kay?"

Jake was ready to spit nails. Sparks flew from his eyes as he charged me.

"Jakiepoo," I said, reverting to an old nickname I'd given him, "sweetie, who sired you? You know, vamped your sorry butt?"

"You wouldn't know her," he spat at me.

"Oh, got some action, did we?" I laughed, which infuriated him further. He lunged, and I dodged. Jake crashed into the lockers, wood splintering everywhere. "You'll want to be careful of that! Wood kills, babe."

"Why are you so cocky?" he asked. "I could kill you easy if I wanted! I'm just messing with you now. It'll be even worse later."

"You'll torture me, drive me insane, finally kill me, yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before, okay?" Confused, dumb look on Jake's face. "So, back to your sire. If I don't know her, then it's someone local. Had to be within the past couple weeks. Which means, basically, your sire is no one of consequence. Because she obviously didn't teach you crap."

"Didn't need to."

"Right. What'd she tell you, then?"

"Fort Wayne's a hellmouth. The place is going to Hell, so I might as well stick around for a bit and get the hang of all this. Then get the hell out of here before the place blows."

"Ah, well, I've been saying for years that Fort Wayne blows. And that it was Hell. But no one listened. Even small towns in California are more fun."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You were in California?"

"Yeah. Little town by the name of Sunnydale. It kind of...blew up last spring. Seemed it was another hellmouth. They're popping up everywhere these days." I leaned back against the wall. Jake was still poised, ready to spring. Me, state of relaxed readiness. Works for actors, works for slayers.

"S-sunnydale?" A shadow crossed his bumpy face.

"Oh, so your sire told you about that?"

"Uh, well, it was mentioned," he said, his eyes slits.

"Yeah. I figured. So, pop quiz time. What was so important about Sunnydale, other than the whole hellmouth thing?"

"She mentioned the vampire slayer, said the slayer was still out there."

"The slayer? Ooh, that's gonna cost you. There's actually multiple slayers. Buffy Summers, a really sweet, cute blonde. She and her friends did a little mojo before the hellmouth killed the town. Now there are tons of slayers. Hundreds, all around the world. It was pretty damn cool, let me tell you."

"Like you'd know."

"Actually, Jake, I would." He struck out at me before I could go on. Darn him! I wanted to keep talking! This was fun! My own brand of torture. Giles would kill me if he knew. Buffy, on the other hand, well, she and Faith, Faith especially, would think this entertaining. As long as I didn't get too cocky. I punched back, swung my leg out and knocked him down.

Jake came at me again, full force. He sent me flying into the drum rack. Which promptly broke. I fought back and we went careening through the doors into the band room. He fell down the tiers of the floor, down to the flute section. He was in front of the band director's music stand and chair. Music flew in all directions, as did the chairs I shoved out of my way.

"You see, Jake, I have changed. You only died. Me? I was called."

"What the hell are you, then?"

"I'm a vampire slayer." I grabbed the baton off the director's stand and thrust the baton into Jake's chest. I sank down to the cool floor as ash fluttered about and finally settled. On me, on the floor, floating about the room. All that remained of my former friend.

I stood but didn't bother dusting myself off. What now? My eyes traveled to another door. This one led to the connecting hallway between the band room and the drama room. Two practice rooms just off that hallway. The one on the right, more music, miscellaneous drum equipment. The room on the left...

I pushed aside the music stands and chairs that Jake and I had broken in the midst of our fight. At least the 10,000 marimba had not been injured. Not that it really mattered anymore. I walked to the hallway door and pushed it open. The practice room doors were closed. I bypassed them and continued on to the drama room. I'd only taken a couple drama courses in high school before I'd gone all band. Okay, one course and about two weeks of another. Then I'd switched to orchestra and my schedule had been full.

This had been the jazz band III room. We'd move the desks, grab some chairs, pull out the piano, set up the stands, and as soon as our director arrived, we were ready to roll. I had tons of pictures, somewhere, of jazz band. All us Jazz III peeps. It'd been fun. The first three years. My senior year, I didn't bother joining. Being stuck with a bunch of freshmen just didn't appeal to me anymore. Well, not that it had in the first place. I sat on the steps to the small staging area. Still the same old nappy green carpet. The huge canvases advertising past productions. I sighed and went back across to the practice room hallway. I had one more thing to face, then I was done.

I tried the knob on the left door. Locked. Figuring the keys had gone the way of the directors, I hauled up and kicked the door in. Wood splintered and flew. In a strange way, I had a feeling of triumph. But now, now I was faced with the room. Where Colin had...Well, where everything in my life had changed. I leaned against the wall and slid down. Tears stung my eyes and threatened to fall.

I was reliving every moment. Running out of the room, scared, shocked. Calling Rachel. Telling my mom a week later. The school administration. The other band members. My best friends. God, everything. Every single memory that had skirted the edges of my conscious mind since I stepped into my alma mater this day flooded back.

And I sobbed. I pulled my legs up to my chest, hid my face in my knees, and bawled. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. And then I fell asleep.

"Jessica? Come on." Someone shook me awake. I opened my eyes and looked up. It was Xander. "Come on, we've got to go. Giles is wigging."

I rolled over and slowly got up. I felt stiff and I know I was bruised from the fighting. How long had I been asleep? I asked Xander that.

"Not sure when you feel asleep, Jess. But you've been gone for about five hours. Freaked us out. Buffy wanted to come with to look for you, but she and Giles have their hands full with the mini-slayers."

"Ah. So you came alone?"

"Not exactly. Wil's here somewhere." Xander dropped his voice. "And hopefully Andrew's had the good sense to just get lost."

"So, you found me."

"Huge school. But it really didn't take too long to find you. I mean, we figured you were at the band room." Xander looked me over. "What happened? You look terrible."

I caught a glance of myself in a mirror. Discarded prop from a play or the show choir, I guessed. My mascara and eyeliner had run, then dried on my face in odd lines. My blonde hair was completely askew. Clothes were rumpled, of course, and filthy.

"Fought a, uh, vampire," I managed, annoyed that my voice caught.

Xander called Willow, told her to grab Andrew and head back to the Marriott across the highway, about a mile from the high school. Buffy, Giles, and some of the other "mini-slayers" were there, along with Dawn. I pulled my hair back in a neater ponytail and I led Xander to the guard room. I pulled my shirt off, found a clean one that fit me, and put it on. Someone had kindly left their make-up kit behind, so I borrowed a cleansing cloth and reapplied a bit of make-up. I left Xander standing there, ran to the band office, and grabbed the picture of my brother off the bulletin board. I returned to Xander.

"Better," I said. "Sorry. Just didn't feel like going back to the hotel and having everyone go all 'awww' on me." I palmed the pic. "And of everything here, this doesn't deserve to go down."

We stood at the band room doors. I took a last look around the room. I needed to. Because in a few days, a few hours, even, it wouldn't exist. My alma mater would be a thing of the past. As would the marching band of which I used to be so proud. The last member this room would see was me. Not Sparkles, Squeepy, or Larry. Not even Jessica the Vampire Slayer. But me. The real me. Jessica Renee Nicholas. Indeed, this was the true end of an era.