A mist hung in the air over a Sunnydale graveyard late one summer evening. Droplets of water flecked the face of a girl there whose blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her feet were apart, her hands on her hips, and she was staring straight into the eyes of a vampire.
"Slayer," The vampire snarled, baring his dripping yellow fangs.
"The one and only," the girl replied.
He launched at her, grasping for her neck. She rolled backwards, sending the assailant headfirst into a gravestone. As he stood from the dizzying collision, the vampire received a kick in the jaw from a small black boot. He grabbed the foot and threw the girl flat on her back. He pounced on her, teeth flashing as he roughly twisted and trapped her slender arm underneath her back.
"You know, you should really see a dental hygienist about that little problem," she struggled to push him way as his face inched closer to hers. "For a guy with no breath, you've got a really bad case of halitosis."
Delight crossed the vamp's face as he descended upon the girl. Just as one of his canines sunk into her neck, she managed to free her arm and toss him away, catching a glimpse of his confused visage as he sailed through the air.
From the ground, the girl heard the familiar sound of a body being reduced to dust and looked up to see a gentle face draped in bright red hair.
"Are you ok?" Willow asked, rubbing the gritty dust from her hands.
"Willow," the girl said, "he injured me."
As Willow helped her up, the worsening rain rolled down the girls blonde head and trickled into the wound on her neck. It began to spark, blue-white lights emanating from the tear there. And she said in an unusually urgent and cheerful voice. "I need service."
Xander came running toward them and stopped, leaning forward hands resting on his knees. "This," he panted, "has gotten a lot harder without Giles."
"It doesn't help that Buffybot keeps letting herself almost get bitten," the three of them jogged towards the graveyard gate, Willow keeping the machine close. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong with her programming." They took shelter underneath a marquee left behind from a funeral previously that day. "And, almost every time I've seen her fighting a vamp, she gets pinned to the ground, if only for a second."
"I am programmed to behave exactly as Buffy Summers," Buffybot said matter-of-factly.
"Well, at least you've got her quipping at full capacity, right?"
"Wrong," answered Willow. "She just keeps insulting the vampires' breath, or well, lack of. She can't even smell!"
"Maybe she just doesn't have what it stakes," joked Xander.
Willow shot him an exasperated look.
"Or," Xander went on, "she doesn't have the heart."
"Xander!"
"Why so tense, Will? Usually you'd have the decency to laugh at a good Tin Slayer joke."
"Sorry, I'm just not big on inappropriate allusions to The Wizard of Oz tonight…it's just…I just wish --"
"Face it, Will, you can't expect she-bot to fill the leather pants of the Slayer. The Slayer's power is mystical, she's just technology. Look," he searched her somber face, "I miss her too. I'd give my left eye to see Buffy again. Which, I'm hoping wont have to happen because --"
"Tomorrow night," Willow interjected, "it has to be. Mercury's in retrograde, and --"
"Yadda, yadda, super witchy-slash-science genius speak. I know all I need to."
The rain let up, and they were soon back at the house on Revello Drive. Anya met them in the hall as they hung their dripping coats.
"Dawn's sleeping -- but look!" she held the thing in her hands out to Willow. "Shiny, brand-new Urn of Osiris. Well, both adjectives inaccurately describe it, but it's the real thing."
"Ok, thanks Anya," Willow said, handling the urn with care. She said to Buffybot, "C'mon let's go upstairs and I'll take a look at your neck."
"I thought she'd be more excited," said Anya as Willow's ankles disappeared up the steps. "I mean, it's practically autographed by Osiris himself. Did you see all the pretty little hieroglyphs on there?"
"I think Willow's wound a little tight about tomorrow night," Xander said, moving toward the kitchen sink and staring out the window. He felt two small arms slip around his waist.
"She's not the only one," Anya started to work the kinks out of his stiff neck.
"If Willow's nervous it makes me nervous. It could make the whole thing go ka-phooey. Willow's my best friend, and I have total faith in her, but you've seen how some of her spells can go wrong. Summoning trolls, making Giles blind, almost wedding Spike and Buffy--"
"Wedding!" shouted Anya and a startled Xander shushed her. She said in a quieter voice, "You still haven't let me wear this stupid thing!" She pulled her engagement ring from her pocket.
"I know, but we have to wait. If everything goes as planned, then we'll tell everyone."
"It will, Xander, Willow has gotten much better even in the last few months. She can speak to us using just her thoughts, for crying out loud. And she's managed to not vanish my cash register or endanger the money in any way lately."
"Still, Anya, this is different. She's talking about raising the dead."
Xander stood at the doorway of Willow's room and knocked.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open to see Buffybot sitting at the edge of the bed and Willow rummaging through her magic books and supplies.
"How're ya feeling, Robobuff?"
"Oh, much better! Willow serviced me!"
"Well…Good," Xander said.
"Ok, time for bed," said Willow walking over to the robot and powering her down.
"So, Will," he said to her hunched back as she continued to organize her materials. "Looking forward to the big day?"
"Yeah," she said distractedly. "What was Anya shouting about a minute ago?"
"Oh, nothing," Xander glanced at the door. "Look, Will, I just wanted to let you know that I have complete total confidence in your witchy abilities and I know you'll be a huge success tomorrow."
"Thanks, Xand. I knew I could always count on you."
"Yeah Will, and we're all counting on you."
* * *
No one asked where the blood that Willow poured into the Urn of Osiris came from. They knelt in the damp grass surrounding Buffy's grave, holding their long black candles, silent even as Willow dipped two fingers into the small urn and smeared the deep red liquid on her pale cheeks and forehead. The high, full moon cast pale ribbons of light and shadows over the faces of Xander, Tara, and Anya. Tara watched Willow concernedly, while Xander breathed deeply with closed eyes, and Anya stared at the ground in front of her. The air was heavy and the trees surrounding the grave site were still as if, like the three members of the circle, anticipating Willow's next move,
"Osiris," Willow's voice stabbed the still night, "Keeper of the Gate. Master of all Fate," she poured the contents of the urn, and the queasy sound of blood splattering on the cold, stiff ground accompanied her voice in the still night air.
"Before time, and after. Before knowing, and nothing. Accept our offering. Know our prayer -- Aghh!"
Long lacerations appeared on the witch's bare arms, and her own blood ran across her pale skin and dripped on the ground.
"Willow!" Xander cried.
"It's ok!" said Tara, with a worried expression similar to Xander's on her face. "She's being tested. She told me this would happen."
The atmosphere surrounding them began to stir, causing the trees to groan and hiss.
Willow raised her voice over the whispering leaves. "Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people! Let her cross over!" Black pools occupied her eye sockets now and her whole body trembled. She felt her skin crawl, or rather felt things creep under it, but fought back the repulsiveness and stared intensely forward.
"Osiris!" Egg-sized bulges swam under her skin. "Let her cross over!"
The horrid urge to vomit overcame Willow and she fell forward, gripping the green grass, dry heaving. She retched and retched, grasping at her throat with one hand. She couldn't breathe, the tantalizing air swirled around her and blew her red hair about her face.
Just when she thought she would lose consciousness she felt something surging up her throat. A thick, hissing mass of scales slithered from her mouth and coiled onto the ground. Willow became encased in visible mystical energy, magicks were surging through her as she sucked in the night air and continued to bargain with the god of the afterlife.
"Release her!"
The snake hissed at Willow's companions and writhed about their knees and ankles but Willow was looking at the sky and her black eyes seemed to reflect it. Her outstretched arms looked as though she meant to carry a cadaver to the grave or a grooms bride over the threshold.
Xander started at a loud bird cry from above, but Willow did not lose concentration, even when the massive black bird swooped onto the gravesite. Its gnarly talons sank deeply into the squirming flesh of the serpent and it carried its victim away into the sighing trees.
"Osiris! I command you," Willow roared into the black abyss, let her cross over!" The small body ceased convulsing and with a cacophonous crash of mystical energy, wat thrust several yards through the air and lay limp and oddly angled in the damp grass.
Her three companions barely had time to react to the devastating event when the earth began to move. The ground in front of them began to churn and fold inside itself. Stunned, they all watched the center of the movement. And there, out of the writhing earth, something erupted. Not the soft, slender hand of their beloved friend but one that was gnarled and twisted with sharp black claws the size of meat locker hooks.
The appearance of the scabbed, gray flesh cued the stupefied trio to run.
By the time they staggered trough the ploughed dirt and Xander was lifting the frail form of Willow, the creature had unearthed itself. They trembled at the sight of the form that rose from the disturbed gravesite. It was just a black silhouette in the pallid moonlight, but its great claws flashed as it examined their sharp tips. The three friends endeavors to be silent were thwarted by the fear that rolled over them in waves. Tara couldn't help but whimper at the spectacle before her, this earth-covered creature that stunk of rotting meat.
They started to move for the cover of the trees but as Anya turned back to glimpse at the hideous being it threw its head back to the pale moon and unleashed an unearthly, ear-splitting shriek that penetrated every corner of the woods. It had spotted them.
With one swing of it's massive fist, it pulverized Buffy's gravestone into crumbling dust. Jumpstarted by the deafening screech, the three friends broke into a run, blood streaming from their ears, and a limp Willow in tow. The moving of her body had reopened some of the cuts on her arms and blood spattered Xander's jacket. The crunching of the demon's footsteps propelled the group faster through the vegetation.
Anya yelped as she planted face first in the dirt and struggled to extricate herself from the tree roots that tangled her feet. Tara turned back to see the monster gaining on Anya. It seemed to still be adjusting to its new mobility; however it leaped forward with another one of its devastating cries. Tara fell backwards but threw one arm in front of her and a jet of light pierced the creatures yellow eyes. Momentarily stunned, it fell back but did not release its grip on Anya's ankle. Tara pulled at her and the creature's claws cut into Anya's flesh but the two escaped its grasp.
Just then two bright lights invaded the woods and a sedan squeezed itself between the trees. The demon shied from the light but Tara and a hobbling Anya threw themselves both into the front passenger seat and the tires screeched as rubber gripped blacktop and the four friends sped down the road.