Episode 1: Girl can't help it

Chapter 1: There was a boy

Disclaimer: I do not own any Glee or Buffy characters, they belong to their creators.

Requiem Aeternam
Dona eis Domine
Et lux perpetua
Luceat eis

Finn didn't know why he'd agreed to that.

But, after a moment of thinking, he knew - he was just too good. Too chivalrous. Maybe it was because of that fairytales his mother read him when he was a child? The same fairytales she encouraged him to read when he grew up a little? Well, she never succeeded. Instead of knights, dragons and damsels in distress, he was shaped by the TV - Power Rangers, Dragonball and things like that. Contrary to the popular opinion, Finn knew that those series were encouraging; always be good, don't hesitate to defend a lady. Yeah, thanks to them he was who he was.

And that brought him that night to the cemetery with Rachel.

"I can't honor him like I would like to."

He looked at her from above (that wasn't hard with his height), simultaneously raising one of his eyebrows. Unintentionally of course, though some people asked from time to time if his eyebrows were ok, but that was just his expression for showing surprise. And the world was surprising him every day.

"With a song, of course."

"Ah," he sighed. Now he was just surprised by his own stupidity. How could he not know that?

Rachel slammed her locker's door.

"Thanks." She gave him a bright, Jewish smile. The one that showed her pure joy and the joy of manipulating another man to do what she would like to be done.

Another thing that Finn was confused about: why it had to be at night. And why that particular night. But he'd rather not interrupt her with his pointless questions. He'd have to remember to ask about that later (but he'd surely forget about that). He sometimes liked to play computer games. The characters hardest to understand (for him) were berserkers. The wild warriors, turned on by the rage of fight. Even if they were cut, bleeding from every hole in their bodies and aware of their fast approaching death, they still kept fighting. In a rage, possessed by fury. He couldn't imagine that - how it looks, how a man can feel such fury and ecstasy at once. And then he saw Rachel sing for the first time.

Te Decet
Hymnus deus in Sion
Et tibi redetur votum
In Jerusalem

Actually, he'd already had an opportunity to hear her singing at night. They'd been similarly surrounded by trees that sometimes resembled human shapes, which was giving him goosebumps. It was dark everywhere, and the faint moonlight wasn't encouraging either. And to top it all off, every whisper of the wind seemed to harmonize with Rachel, and yet… threaten him? He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't get rid of that annoying feeling. It just kept coming back. Time after time, too persistently.

Of course he hadn't mentioned it then, and he wouldn't do it now. He didn't want to look like a coward to her. They may not be a couple anymore, but he cared about the image of a knight without flaws, ready to help every woman and person in need. Well, maybe Jesus who looked at him kissing Quinn had a different opinion, but in fact - Jesus had no influence on his image in school, right?

It was a good thing that the cemetery was kept in good condition. Nothing cracked under his feet, not a smallest, accidentally stepped on branch had to remind him of the sound of cracking bone. The only annoying thing were the leaves falling and dancing in the wind between the two of them. One of the leaves had just grazed Finn's neck.

He had to admit - it was kind of nice. He felt a thrill, like a soft hand touched him. Can a leaf be soft?

He tried to touch that place on his neck to strengthen that feeling. But instead of his goosebumped skin he felt something cold and smooth. He turned around.

And screamed.

Ex audi
Orationem meam

Rachel was the leader of that trip. Finn was there to keep her spirits up. And to act as a listener, of course. She didn't like to sing to empty spaces - at home she had a mirror, so she could imagine she was the singer and the spectator at the same time. But on the cemetery? At night? There was no doubt - she needed someone to protect her. And to listen to her. Not necessarily in that order. She began the next verse more powerfully, more deeply, as she tried to reach her very heart.

Ad te omnis caro
Veniet
Requiem

Obviously, she couldn't sing that at home! It was a song for someone — a memorandum — a prayer. It would be… rude to sing it to the mirror. He could have felt offended. And even though there was a possibility that he was in heaven right now, she wouldn't want to make him mad. He could still be dangerous. She took a deeper, yet still discreet breath. She needed a lot of air to finish the song the way she wanted to - on a hard, high pitch. With power. Like a diva.

Requiem Aeternam
Requiem Aeternam

A few more times, silently, murmurando, she repeated the last words. She stopped and took a breath. Her heart was beating like crazy - contrary to the popular opinion, singing is an extremely tiring and extraordinarily emotional activity. Sometimes she thought of herself as an instrument - to effectively interpret the tone she had to pull the right strings – the accurate memories. She had to feel moved enough. So what if she was making ridiculous faces? That was a surprisingly low price for an amazing show.

She smiled and turned on her tip-toes. Like a . Her cotton dress whirled. Jak pensjonarce.

"Donna eis, my dear, donna eis," said an extremely ugly woman. And when Rachel thought "ugly", she really meant it, although she usually tried to be reserved in her judgments. But the unnatural angle of her eyebrows, bared, unequal and sharp teeth, earthy-dirty hair, and her whole face was covered with furrows (that couldn't even be called wrinkles!). Well, if her friends sometimes pictured Beiste to "cool down", then Rachel couldn't imagine how effective this woman would be.

She would probably turn every boy into a eunuch.

Even her voice was unpleasant. Scratchy. Like every spoken word hurt her throat. Disgusted, Rachel could bet that the mysterious woman couldn't sing.

But that wasn't the worst thing.

In her claws (claws! God, Kurt would weep if he could only see what ridiculous fingers that dreadful woman had) the stranger was holding Finn's neck, leaving only a part of it uncovered. She was rubbing, massaging it with one of her fingers. To encourage better blood flow. That was what her dads used to say - that massaging encourages better blood flow.

She was struck by a sudden thought. You idiot! How haven't you thought about this earlier?

She's planning to do bad things with Finn! Maybe even kill him? At least if she wanted to pet them, she wouldn't lurk on a cemetery at night. Or maybe… maybe she was hunting for Rachel? Maybe her plan was to destroy her talent and Finn was just in the way. That made him her defender! Her champion!

"Oh, Finn…" she smiled. She would've loved to say how grateful she was.

But it wasn't the right time, probably.

What should she do? Scream? She screamed.

"Idiot. Nobody can hear you." Oh, if only that woman would shut up. Her voice was incredibly annoying.

She clenched her fists. She felt helpless. She couldn't hit her, it was pointless. She would love to stomp her leg, but she could see the pointlessness and the overdramatic aspect of that behavior. Run? She couldn't leave Finn alone… with that woman.

And then something disturbed the peaceful flow of the wind. Rachel couldn't see what that was, everything was going too fast. She wasn't even able to make a single sound. Only after a short moment she could see a part of a beige trench coat and a loosely flowing strap. According to Kurt, it was the latest trend in fashion.

The trench coat knocked the ugly woman down, setting Finn free of her grip. He made a clumsy step to the side, held his throat and started gulping down air in a grotesque way. He looked funny and cute at the same time. Rachel leaped to him and embraced his waist.

"Oh, Finn, oh, Finn," she whispered, touching his face with her hand. "Is everything okay, my hero?"

Big-eyed from hypoxia and a sudden rise in his blood pressure, Finn only nodded his head. He pointed his finger at the tackled woman. Until then Rachel hadn't realized what knocked that woman down. Of course it wasn't a trench coat. Trench coats, by definition, don't disarm people. It was the trench coat's owner. He was as fast as… prestissimo.

The one sitting on the ugly woman was Kurt.

The boy immobilized his enemy in a very simple way. First he knocked her down by pushing with his elbow. When she was stunned he hopped to her, kicked with his knee and knelt. He passed his leg over her belly and with a hand holding a stick of some kind, he held her hands above her head. But this plan wasn't flawless. That left Kurt was only one free hand, but he'd rather press it on the enemy's stomach to be sure. So what else he could do? He arranged his lips so that the air was directed to the left side of his temple. He blew again, harder. This time his bangs stopped falling over his eyes, but it was far from the perfect arrangement over which he labored before he left home.

"I should say some clever and witty pun now, but you made me angry," he said in his high-pitched voice. In spite of its timbre it was still kind of scary. As if their countertenor had some kind of experience at being angry and cynical. He paid no attention to Rachel and Finn. "You've ruined my hair."

He moved his hand from her belly to her throat. He freed the hand with the stick, raised it a little to gain momentum and stabbed her chest with the stick just where the heart supposed to be.

Rachel screamed. She was too sensitive to watch such a barbaric act as murder! Especially murder committed by someone as delicate as Kurt. She knew that he had a lot of anger inside of him, and it manifested often, sometimes pointlessly (but that's just the nature of natural stars, at least she wanted to think so)… But murder!

She'd probably have more sad thoughts, but she didn't see the expected fountain of blood that would splatter them all, she saw the woman… slowly, but steadily; at first the hair and limbs, then the rest of the body… turning into dust. Why?

Kurt got up from the ground and dusted his knee, the trench. He held one of the flaps in his fingers and looked at it closely.

"Fuck."

He licked his finger and started wiping at the grass stain. He gave up after a few seconds.

"Thanks, bitch," he said angrily to… emptiness. The dust was taken by the wind.

Then he raised his eyes and looked directly at Finn and Rachel, who seemed slightly confused. Kurt couldn't decide who looked dumber: his step-brother with his gaping mouth and wide open eyes or Rachel, whose eyes expressed total surprise and lips tightened with fear.

"A vampire. A vampiress," he announced, as if those two words (or two variations on one word) could explain everything. They stood in silence for a moment. "And Rachel. Your finish was a little over the top. You should've ended it softer, maybe a little march-like, not like an aria."

"What are you doing at the cemetery… at night?" Finally Finn managed to ask the stupid question.

Rachel gave him one for her I'm-better-than-you looks - like those words erased all her emotions and replaced them with quasi-indignation, which seized her whole.

"Is that all you can ask after that… vampiress, that fight, dust and…"

"Actually," Kurt interrupted the stream of words, "I'm waiting for someone."

Rachel felt like she was on an emotional rollercoaster. She forgot all about the anger. It was replaced by an undeniable surprise.

Something rustled in the nearest bush right behind a row of gravestones. Rachel couldn't miss that in one second every one of Kurt's muscles tensed, and he raised his stick to the level of his chest. His response to a slightest mysterious noise was just like a Pavlov's dog's response to a light. What had happened to him?

From behind a tall, weeping angel sculpture came a handsome man. They definitely could see his muscled form in the dark, but he had to make a few steps (slow, but confident steps) before they could make out his face in the moonlight.

Kurt slowly turned around. He calmed down.

Finn couldn't remember that man, but he knew he was familiar in some way.

"Who is this?" He whispered, leaning close to Rachel. He wouldn't want to disrupt the silence. It had to be important, or someone would say something, but everybody seemed to celebrate that silence.

"Karofsky," she replied, swallowing loudly.

Right! He couldn't recognize him at first. He wasn't used to seeing Dave in a suit. He usually wore sweaty t-shirts and jock jackets. Now, with his neck imprisoned by a tight collar and a black tie with silver dots he looked like… a businessman?

"You're here," he said in a deep voice. He went silent, like that "you're here" covered everything what he had to say.

"I was waiting for you," Kurt replied. He tried to sound serious and confident. He couldn't let Karofsky see how scared he was.