A/N: Hey guys! :) New chapter up. Last chapter was definitely more of a prelude chapter, setting up the conflicts of the characters and the upcoming plot points. This chapter is when plot starts to thicken ... and the real setting of this story can begin. I hope you like this one, and I'm really happy at the support! :D I know this has a more specified audience (There's a Buffy and Supernatural fan, but not everyone is both), but I really love writing this story. With the direction I plan to go with this fanfic, I can easily say this will be one of my best.

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke. This is only for entertainment.

Open to Constructive Criticism/OOC thoughts!


Not Not in Kansas Anymore

~~Buffy~~

Buffy scaled a large crypt, embedding her slayer scythe into one of it's ridges to hoist herself up. The blonde slayer landed on top in a crouch, unhooking her scythe effortlessly as she was given an impressive view of the large graveyard. The light of the moon shone down, turning the land to silver. The edge of the axe on her scythe glinted in the moonlight.

A week had passed since her talk with Giles. The outbreak of Porriggo Hounds was finally started to diminish, snuffed out by the squads of slayers, many of which Buffy had led herself. The patrol of slayers to the states hadn't returned yet. Buffy had given them strict orders to stay hidden and be as covert as possible. Last she heard of them, all sets of three were alive and slowly but surely cleansing the demon infestation.

Dawn wasn't talking to her again. Xander was being pushy and effectively lectured her on her "pit-bull" approach to anything involving a sister. Buffy ignored it all. While she fely bad and knew she could've handled it better, the thing that mattered most to Buffy was knowing that Dawn would sulk it out for at least another week. For once in her life, she had decided not to push her.

The blonde slayer overlooked the landscape alertly, checking for any immediate signs of newly risen vampires. Catching none, she leaped down the crypt and cautiously began searching for the tell-tale signs of disturbed dirt and snarling.

Buffy's mood was considerably better. She hadn't done a proper staking in at least four months. Demons were abundant. Vampires? Not so much. Buffy suspected her calling of the slayers was dwindling their numbers or at least sent a lot of them into hiding. When the resource team had reported signs of vampire activity around Scotland, it had been a pleasant surprise.

It was back to the basics: vampires. No slayer armor, no slayer squad, no fancy tech. Just Buffy, a stake, and a graveyard. A strange sort of peace had settled over her. If her life can never be normal, then at least she'd have her version of normal.

The small blonde jumped on top of another crypt for a better vantage point. Of course, this gig was easier when I had a slay buddy. Buffy thought wistfully. Angel, Spike, and Riley once had filled that role. They hadn't just helped her slay, but gave her someone to talk to. They listened to her problems. It had saved her from a lot of lonely patrolling nights.

Buffy was jolted out of memory lane. Four vampires were emerging from one of the crypts, catching the slayer who was in plain sight. Snarls and voices of hated recognition erupted, their faces instantly shifting into their "game faces". Jackpot. The slayer's expression hardened and she leaped off the crypt.

"Hey, guys. Long time no see." The blonde greeted casually as she approached. One of the vampires, she could tell the youngest, lunged. Buffy dodged and kicked him from behind, unbalancing it. She swung her scythe and beheaded him in one clean stroke. Her eyes locked on the other ones. "Aw. I missed you too." She deadpanned.

The three remaining vampires attacked. The blonde hit one bluntly with the middle of her scythe, then elbowed another forcefully. Before the third could close in, Buffy embedded the stake side of her scythe directly in her heart. She wasn't given enough time to watch it turn to dust when the second bear-hugged her from behind, lifting her off the ground. Buffy squirmed and lost her grip on her scythe, the tight hold straining her stomach.

"So you're her. The real bitch slayer." The third vampire breathed close to her neck, his fangs uncomfortably close. "You called all those damned slayers. You're the reason our kind keeps dropping like flies!" He accused, rage in his voice.

Okay. Enough of this.

"I am?" Buffy tried to wrench his hands away, succeeding for just enough space. "Oops." She struck him harshly in the stomach, free of his grasp. "Darn. See, I'm really trying to feel sorry about that." She mocked further as she threw out her hands, kicking up her scythe. "But I think I lost my spell receipt somewhere in a crater." Buffy knocked the vampire the ground, lunging with her scythe. "Here, let me make it up to you."

"Edward! Help!" The vampire below her shrieked to the other one, who was still recovering from the burned affects touching the scythe gave vampires.

Buffy stopped abruptly. She frowned. "You know a vampire named Edward?" She said incredulously.

Using her moment of distraction, the vampire on the ground tripped her. He was on top of her instantly, his fangs aiming for her neck. Buffy fended him off, grabbing his hands to keep him away from feeding off her. The two struggled against each others' strength a moment until finally the blonde rolled and flipped them over. Straddling him, Buffy pulled out a spare stake in her jean pocket and jammed it right in the heart.

The blonde slayer raised her head, glaring up at the last vampire. He had short, thick, dark hair and a delicate-looking face, but definitely big-looking and strong. He was closing in, his game face on and now having fully recovered from her last attack. His golden eyes gleamed with purpose and dark promise.

Buffy stood up cautiously, reclaiming her scythe. "Sorry about your friends." She began, gesturing to the specks of dust littered across the graveyard soil. "You ever trying changing your name? I mean, after that horror show, Edward is ... well, only my bunny slippers are running." The blonde slayer snarked, nodding her head meaningfully.

"Edward" blinked, looking confused. "That has always been my name."

The slayer smirked. "Good for you. Everyone likes a little dose of laughingstock vampire." She quipped, readying her scythe as her expression steeled back to 'slay' mode. As fury spread across Edward's face, Buffy vaulted back in the foray.

Buffy and Edward fought. Despite the vampire's humiliating name, the slayer quickly realized he was a lot stronger than he looked. Every punch and kick she tried to land, he responded with a block or counterattack of his own. At one point, when Buffy was close to staking his heart, he had dodged and hit her hard in the face with a gravestone. Buffy had recovered quick enough for a solid roundhouse kick, but it had still surprised her.

It was at this point Buffy figured out she wasn't dealing with an every day fledge or one only a few decades old. Edward was a little older, probably closer to Spike's age when he died. Interesting ... but not good.

The blonde slayer swung in wide arcs with her scythe. Edward dodged her swings, though one narrowly got his head. He charged, grabbing her scythe with lightning movement and wrenching it away. Ignoring the burning of the scythe (the patented holy water-like effect if any vampire dared touch it), he pinned her against the wall of the crypt. He pushed the scythe towards her neck with bruising force. The slayer struggled.

He leaned into her, the gritting of his teeth and twitching muscles the only indication of the pain. " ... I hear your boyfriends bit the dust. What was their names again?" Edward suddenly brought up, mockery in his voice. Buffy tensed. "Ah, yes. Angelus and Spike. The famous two."

The blonde slayer stare on him was as cold and icy as a glacier. The look of raw fury and promise of death in her eyes should've been enough for him to quit talking and take his kill already, but unfortunately this vampire was stupid.

"You know, I crossed paths with them once or twice. Truly amazing beasts of destruction, they were." Edward's hands started to steam and shake from the scythe, but his voice was still even. He pushed the scythe deeper towards her, making them both wince. " ... But then they met you. You broke them. Made them weak. Filled them with delusions of grandeur and warped them to going out do-gooders. Destroyed legends!" There was pure disgust in his voice. "I guess, in a way, ... you were the one that killed them."

Buffy inwardly shriveled, her still-raw guilty conscience dug up and left out again to bleed. If only she could believe that wasn't true. It felt like even agreeing with that in her head would still give him the satisfaction, but her heart was just too bruised. It was like getting pierced with a shard of glass shattering on impact, infecting every crevice and making sure it would never heal. She did. She did kill them.

"Serves them right. I always knew you would be the death of them." Edward said in pure cruelty, smirking.

The lashes to her soul seemed worse and worse with every word, but Buffy refused to show that weepy little girl inside. She stared at him directly in the eyes, showing nothing but her rage and disgust.

Suddenly Edward's eyes widened. An orb had sailed in their direction, hitting him right in the back. The pressure on Buffy's neck left as he lost his handle on the scythe. Not asking any questions, the blonde slayer shoved the paralyzed vampire away. She upper-cutted him, then kicked him with fierce strength. He crashed to the ground.

The blonde slayer snatched her scythe and advanced, radiating with fury. Without hesitation, Buffy staked the immobile vampire. He gasped. The blonde slayer watched with cold calculation. "... Angel and Spike were twice the man you ever were." She said in low anger. Soon enough, dust was all she saw.

"I thought you needed an hand."

Buffy raised her head at the voice. Willow was levitating (a new magic skill of hers she had obtained over the years) in front of her, her arms crossed and dressed in a long, flowing light green-and-white dress. A choker was around her neck and she wore a green corset, looking as wiccan as was ever possible.

The red-head smiled softly at the slayer's dumbfounded expression. "Hey, Buffy. Been a while?"

Willow landed in front of her softly. Buffy could still only stare a moment, certain she was dreaming. Reality crashed down on her.

"Wil!" Buffy cried in immediate realization, throwing her arms around her best friend fiercely as happy tears pricked her eyelids.

Willow hugged more tentatively. "Buff ... ease up a little on the bear hug, y'know."

Sensing the pained strain in her best friend's voice, Buffy let go and pulled back to get a better look at her. Willow relaxed, letting out a breath and looking a bit embarrassed. The blonde slayer hardly noticed. For the first time in a long while, her eyes were bright and a feeling she dimly remembered as happiness swelled inside.

"It's been so long ... how you've been?" The blonde slayer asked with a smile, still holding her arms. "Tell me. Tell me everything. The good, the bad, the ugly."

"Mostly of the good." Willow began thoughtfully, nodding. "Just been keeping the witch punch in the slayer squads in the field. They need a little magic morale." The red-headed witch's green eyes sparking with enthusiasm. "I'm like a, a witch Pai Mei! Y'know, without the misogyny and racism and little funny pin sticking out ..."

"Good to know." Buffy said in amusement, cutting off her friend's rambling. "How's finding covens going?"

"Oh, uh, real good! I recruited some at least, thirty percent of the time." Her best friend answered in forced optimism.

"Which is better than the twenty-five percent three months ago. Progress." The small slayer replied dryly.

Willow looked uncomfortable. "Covens are real secret-society types. They're pretty squeamish ... and paranoid. " She admitted a bit regretfully. "But I've just been finding the meanies. I'm sure there's nice ones out there to join the Slay Crew. Y'know, get over that whole ... terrorist-y vibe."

Buffy forced a smile, hiding her sudden dismay. Once again, her little band of slayers continued to get bit in the ass. Even after two years of no direct conflict, the government was still finding new ways to tear down their image. It was even affecting covens' opinions of them now, which were massive allies for them to have.

"So, uh, you're patrolling! For vampires ... with actual stakes." Willow changed the topic quickly, smiling nervously. The blonde slayer had the dim sense she hadn't hid her own discomfort as well as she thought.

"Easy. I'm still recovering from that heart attack." The slayer quipped back, smiling more genuinely. She looked back at the dusty remains littered across the graveyard. "Eh, it was just your typical batch. Except for Twilight over here ... Edward." She explained with more bitterness, gesturing vaguely to the cloud of dust behind her.

Willow smiled. "His name was Edward?"

"All the more reason he had to be staked." Buffy said in deep feeling, giving her a look.

The red-head frowned slightly. "Y'know, I never really understood why you hated it. I mean, I get the movies. But Edward was so much like ..." She went on in confusion, trailing off under the might of Buffy's withering stare. " ... wasn't like him at all." Willow finished quickly, nodding nervously.

That's what I thought. Buffy thought, disgusted at that particular comparison. She held her stare on her friend a moment more before they started walking together through the graveyard. "So anything else new in Wil Meets World?" She prompted as she crossed her arms, back to casual conversation.

"Just the world." Willow quipped. "In the demon-free downtime, I was able to tourist some. The Coliseum, those funny Easter Island Heads, the Parthenon. Oh, and Stonehenge? Really is just a pile of rocks by the way." She told her cheerfully.

Buffy shook her head, smiling in amusement. "The history buff in you just never dies, does it?"

"You're darn tootin'." Willow replied meaningfully, nodding adamantly. Excitement sparked in her eyes. "It's been great, Buffy. Visiting all these historical sites ... and helping while I'm at it. Before I was small-town girl. Sometimes just room-girl." She reflected, smiling wider. "Now I got the wind in my hair and making a world of difference."

Something sank in Buffy then. Difference. There was that word again. It looks like everyone really has found their mission. The blonde slayer realized.

Her closest friends finally found real purpose and the closest thing for them to peace. For them, it was a new start. The pains of Sunnydale and trials of the Scooby Gang were light years away. Even with the exile to Europe, nothing broke their spirits.

Buffy tuned Willow out as she went on and on about the sites' historical value, her thoughts clouding. Why couldn't she feel it too? She could barely even manage to be happy for them. Is there something wrong with me? The small blonde wondered ashamedly. How could she be this selfish?

"What about you?"

Roused out of herself, the blonde turned distractedly to her friend. "What?"

"What about you?" Willow repeated in friendly camaraderie, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging in the slayer's mind.

Buffy gained her wits. "Well ... me and the other slayers have been cleaning up after the Porrigo outbreak. Even the states patrol, factoring in actual states, are flushing them out, big on the cool and discrete." The small blonde informed matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's great, Buff. Really great." Willow replied with a strange pitch, giving her a cursory glance. "But I mean you you, not Slayer general you."

What's the difference? Only the look of concern in Willow's eyes stopped Buffy from uttering the thought. She half-shrugged awkwardly. "You know me. Same old, same old. Generaling all day, every day." Buffy brushed off in practiced flippancy. "Maybe I should get one of those medals, y'know. Like 'Most Fashionable General' or 'Medal of Pointing and Scowling'." The blonde slayer said jokingly.

"Buffy ..." Willow stopped walking, giving her a long look.

"Right. Not on the military friends' list. Besides, they probably have, like, no sense of humor." Buffy acknowledged with a casual frown, purposely misinterpreting her best friend's admonishing expression.

"I can read the joke subtext." The red-head said, her green gaze serious. The blonde slayer froze guiltily, waiting for the witch to continue. " ... You're doing great, Buffy. These girls and their slayer skills are growing like weeds! I've seen it. And it's because of you. You don't need to keep worrying." Willow said earnestly.

If only it was that simple. Buffy thought wearily. " ... And it's because of me that they can't set one foot in the U.S. without getting hunted down." The blonde said regretfully, her look meaningful.

"That wasn't your fault!" Her best friend argued. "It was the government. They're big, paranoid, scaredy-cats and they should've given you a chance! Who cares what they think? Pfft!" Willow went on passionately, her expressive face twisted in a scowl.

"They're afraid ... and they're wrong." Buffy agreed, serious. She shook her head. "But the girls don't deserve this, Wil. Maybe if I just cut them loose earlier ... maybe some of them would still be able to go home."

"I don't hear them complaining." The witch pointed out, frowning. "Buffy, the slayers love it here! Fighting, travelling, living their birthright. None of them blame you. And you've taught them so much about being a slayer! Without you, who knows where they would've ended up."

Buffy said nothing, considering the words. Willow was right at least partly. The slayers had needed someone to explain their power and teach them how to not to abuse it. Who had been better at that than her? But no matter how hard she tried, her best friend's warm words couldn't touch her heart completely.

I know where Dana ended up ... and those seven slayers. Because of me. The blonde slayer thought, the weight of failure crushing. She certainly hadn't helped them. Whatever the seven slayers had learned from her had only gotten them killed. Buffy didn't even know what happened to Dana. How could anyone, even Willow, deny what was right in front of them?

"Come on, Buffy! Where's Miss Brightside?" Her friend looked pained.

Buffy sighed. "I think I lost her a couple apocalypses ago."

Willow's face brightened. "See! There's a shiny! No apocalypse."

"Don't jinx it." The blonde slayer remarked, slightly glaring.

"Oh, don't rain on your own parade." Willow responded, her brows drawing together sternly. "Things could be a lot worse, Buffy! No apocalypse is a plus. And you really aren't screwing things up. You gotta kick Debbie Downer out sometimes, y'know." The red-headed witch advised, empathetic now.

The blonde slayer watched her friend guiltily. Willow was trying so hard to cheer her up. "Got it. Debbie Downer evicted." Buffy assured firmly, spreading out her arms. "No apocalypse is good. It's just ... you save the world as much as I have and you start to get a panic button."

"Believe me, I know. Been part of the World-Saving-Crusaders myself." Her best friend agreed, smiling ruefully. "Luckily I've come to eventually embrace the liberating land of retirement." She stated light-heartedly.

"Guess I'm the only one who still needs therapy then." Buffy quipped, sitting down on one of the more sturdier gravestones. She looked up at Willow, shifting her expression into a curious one. "How are things between you and Kennedy?"

Willow blinked and blushed a bit. "Great. Really great. I mean, she's not that all into the history stuff or ... diplomacy with the covens, but she's trying. She's really helped me with the slayers. " The red-headed witch informed, sounding awkward but sincere.

"Let me guess. The slayers find a couple demons and Kennedy elects herself faux general." Buffy remarked without looking at her friend, absentmindedly scraping the lingering vampire dust off the edge of her scythe.

"Just let her pretend." The witch told her in fond weariness, shaking her head.

The blonde slayer half-nodded. Kennedy had this impeccably annoying habit to question Buffy's orders and act like she's boss, but she had stubbornly stuck around when the Slayer Organization was formed. Whether it was just for Willow or wanting to be a part of something in general she didn't know. However, there was no denying she had natural talent for a slayer. Buffy just felt sorry for any squad being subjected to her constant ego.

"So you're happy?" The blonde slayer prompted, looking back at her.

Willow smiled. "I am."

Buffy paused, studying the red-headed witch. It was no smokescreen. She truly was happy. Even after the tragedy with Tara, her best friend had still found stability. In that respect, maybe that's why Kennedy was good for her. Finally the slayer smiled. "That's good."

She meant it. With the way their lives were, Buffy sometimes wondered if they were all just meant to be miserable and alone. What was the point of being with someone when it was just going to end badly? Seeing little moments of a lasting relationship like this made her glad. Buffy no longer saw it as hope for herself. She knew her fate. It was just nice to see at least one of them happy.

"So what about you?" The red-headed witch asked suddenly, startling Buffy. Willow crossed her arms, smirking a bit. "Need to fill me in on any juicy, love life tidbits?" She asked teasingly.

"Dry as the Sahara. Don't even bother." Buffy said with feeling, her lips twitching wryly.

The red-headed witch smiled sympathetically. "That bad, huh?"

"My only dates are with demons ... and the occasional vampire." The blonde slayer went on matter-of-factly. She raised her scythe slightly. "My wingman usually being this." Buffy remarked, gesturing to her weapon with her free hand.

"... Maybe that can change a little?" Willow offered hesitantly with an supportive smile.

Buffy gave her a look. "Yes. Let me just pencil in five minutes a day in my busy schedule to talk to some random hottie. A guy that knows my slayerness, my daily dosage of monster-killing, and running an organization of super girls and says 'Hey, I like you!'" The blonde summed up sarcastically, swinging her arm.

"It's happened before." Her best friend pointed out patiently.

Yeah, and how well did those work out? She thought skeptically. Buffy had three major relationships in her life and they all ended badly. Two left town, two died (both twice, but who's counting), and her only serious human boyfriend was now married. Her track record was a disaster. How Willow could still find something salvageable in her tattered remains of a love life was beyond her.

Buffy shook her head. "Let's be realistic, Wil. I don't have the time."

"Sure you do, if you tried." The red-headed witch encouraged. At the blonde slayer's skeptical expression, Willow softened. "You really need to start looking. Find someone new. It's been so long since ... Maybe a new guy would take the edge off all that new kind of stress." She suggested. Sympathy sparked in her eyes. "Buffy ... you spend too much time alone."

Buffy said nothing. She hadn't had anything even resembling a relationship since Spike died the first time. When the Slayer Organization was first being formed, she hadn't had any time whatsoever to think about that stuff. And then when Angel and Spike died again ... a lot of her interest in her love life must've been buried somewhere in the ruins of L.A.

Willow was right about one thing though. Buffy did spent a lot of time alone and she certainly felt it's toll. Companionship and connecting with someone again ... she missed that. Some nights were harder than others. Not that that changed anything.

"I live in a castle with hundreds of girls. I think 'lonely' is the least of my worries." The blonde slayer responded dismissively. When her friend still didn't look all that convinced, Buffy turned back to her meaningfully. "I have an army to worry about now, Wil. Cupid's arrow isn't hitting it's mark on my anytime soon."

Why couldn't her friend just understand that? With all the problems with the U.S. government, the steadily increasing population of demons, and leading at least eight hundred slayers, her love life needed to be nonexistent. Her relationship with her own sister was even suffering from that.

"Buffy ... you've been a Slayer Leigh Anne Hester for three years. And I get it, you got the Mama Bear Complex going, but the slayers ... they've come so far! Pulling back a notch and letting them leave the nest ... that's not always bad, y'know?" The red-headed witch appealed hopefully, smiling slightly.

"I don't mother them, Wil." How was barking orders day and night and bossing them around in touch with her maternal side?

"You mother." Willow insisted, smiling.

Buffy gave her a look. "Is this the part where I say 'They grow up so fast'?" She said sarcastically.

"You've given up a lot for the slayers, Buffy. Don't think we haven't noticed. But you don't need to monitor them 24/7 anymore. They've grown a lot, and they're happy. You can let yourself be happy once and while too." Willow declared empathetically, sympathy in her green eyes.

Buffy stared at her friend bleakly. 'Happy' wasn't a common Word of the Day for her. For a moment, she tried to entertain the idea of being with a new guy and she only pictured two scenarios. One ended in destroying the life of yet another guy who fell head over heels for her and the other ended with her alone. Not exactly a happily ever after.

The red-headed witch watched with quiet dismay. Silence settled between them a moment " ... It's Angel and Spike, isn't?" Willow suddenly brought up softly, sounding sure. Buffy startled, looking at her with wide eyes. Her friend smiled sadly. "I know it's more than the busy bee 'tude. You haven't been the same ever since ... y'know."

The blonde slayer lowered her eyes, her unreadable expression not matching the kaleidoscope of misery and frustration wringing her heart. Everyone automatically seemed to know much she hadn't moved on from their deaths. Her defense mechanisms had been up to an eleven these past couple years and they still failed her. It just wasn't fair.

" ... They died doing what they were supposed to. Could've just as easily been me." Buffy said resignedly.

Willow's stare grew forceful. "No. No, you don't get to be Push-Away Girl with me, missy!" She began sternly, waggling her finger. "Buffy, it's okay. They were special to you. And Angel and Spike ... they were good guys! I'm not judging. Do you see my Judgy Face?" The witch pointed to her face, which was determined and sympathetic.

Buffy gazed at her tiredly. She knew Willow wouldn't judge. She never did. The problem was Buffy herself. She just didn't want to dig up that can of worms (or maybe at this point it was a can of snakes). When she ignored it and pretended she was fine ... it was just simpler.

"Buffy ... you barely even said anything about it since you got the news. That's scary." Actual sparks of worry were in her best friend's eyes. "Don't keep trying to bottle. You remember what happens when you do that, don't you? It comes back and you get bit right in the patoodie. Bottle is not a friend."

Bottle is my best friend right now, Wil. Buffy thought wearily. There was so many feelings inside her locked away. It was exhausting holding it all in, but it was still the only thing keeping her going. Buffy couldn't open up on really anything that was troubling her, let alone her regrets with Angel and Spike. It was just too much.

"What happened with Angel and Spike ... there's no way I could've been there. I needed to stay with the slayers." Every word was tore out of her in crippling protest, but her voice was even. "It ... hurt. And I wish things could've turned out different ... but that's the breaks when you live like us. It just happens."

Willow did not look convinced. "Buffy ..."

The blonde slayer stood up, holding her friend's hands loosely down in front of them. Buffy cracked a small smile. "I'm okay, Wil. It's been two years. We all need to move on sometime." She reasoned, trying to sound reassuring.

The red-headed still looked uncertain, studying her face a long moment. " ... There's someone out there, Buffy. Just because it ended badly with Angel and Spike doesn't mean the next guy will be a dud. There's the right guy for you, I know it. You don't need to be alone all the time." Willow mentioned sympathetically.

"I'll keep that in mind." Buffy answered gratefully. Hard as she tried though, she just wasn't really convinced. 'I don't need to be alone ' ... but the only ones who ever really made me feel that way, even for a second ... were Spike and Angel. They had understood her in ways not even her own friends had. Where would she find that again?

The blonde slayer suddenly tensed, sensing something. Footsteps broke the quiet of the graveyard. Buffy turned in that direction sharply, instinctively gripping her scythe. A lone vampire had appeared, partially hidden behind a crypt. He locked eyes on the slayer and froze.

"Well, look who missed the party." Buffy deadpanned, raising her weapon. Beside her, Willow smiled.

Fear filled his eyes. The vampire turned tail and fled. Buffy frowned incredulously. "I got this one." She told Willow quickly before she could offer, already taking off. "Hey!" She shouted indignantly, chasing the vampire in rapid strides.

Buffy streaked through the graveyard, the gravestones and crypts blurring together. Adrenaline pumped in her veins as she steadily gained on the vampire. She pulled back her slayer scythe, moments away from throwing her weapon at the bloodsucker like a javelin. "You know the saying. When in Scotland—"

Mid-quip, a flash of light invaded her vision. Before she even registered it, the vampire rapidly faded and the world fell out under Buffy's feet. The last she remembered was the sound of Willow's voice calling her name and then everything went dark ...

####

Foggy consciousness befriended the blonde slayer some time later. Uneven, uncomfortably coarse grass had taken the place of the hard graveyard dirt she had expected. Buffy frowned involuntarily, then slowly opened her eyes. The morning sunlight nearly blinded her, streaming into her face.

Wait a minute. Sunlight?

Buffy jolted upright, suddenly wide awake. The small blonde was nestled underneath a huge sign, lying on a hard patch of grass and encircled by weeds. The blonde slayer batted the weeds away, her green eyes widening as she got the rest of the view. Nothing but green fields and a few cars buzzing past on a single road leading towards town. Not a graveyard, Scottish village, or certain red-headed witch in sight.

Where the hell am I? The slayer wasn't hurt as far as she could tell, not from the vampires. It was morning, not night and she wasn't waking up at HQ looking at Willow right now.

I've been out cold all night? She realized, even more confused. When in the hell had that happened? The last thing she remembered was chasing that vampire. Also, what was up with the weather? It was so humid all of a sudden.

Buffy pulled herself up by the edge of the sign she had woken under. The blonde slayer glanced at it briefly, then did a startled a double take. It was large and rectangular, some of it's white paint peeling off and the letters on it faded. In earth-shattering words, it read, 'Welcome to Lebanon, Kansas! The Center of the U.S.A.'

Panic was beginning to set in. First of all, she was back in America again. It was pure luck the military hadn't found Buffy while unconscious. Secondly, there was no way Willow could've brought her here. Her friend knew the dangers for her as much as she did, and why Kansas anyway? It must've been someone else and given her situation, probably a new enemy. Thirdly ... she basically had no clue what was going on.

Buffy put her hand on the sign, frowning at it. "Looks like I'm not not in Kansas anymore." She muttered.

Thunder rumbled. The blonde slayer jerked her head up. Dark clouds were forming and lightning split the sky. Harsh, torrential rain followed, soaking into her clothes and ruining her neat thunder sounded again, so deafening this time the blonde slayer actually tensed.

Buffy looked up with narrowed eyes, ignoring the cold already seeping into her body. Where did this storm even come from? She thought. It had been bright and sunny it had been just a moment ago. Buffy didn't consider herself an expert on weather, but something seemed unnatural. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

Hail replaced rain quick enough, falling down on the slayer uncomfortably. She winced slightly when it hit her face and the cars on the road began swerving. Regardless of all her questions, Buffy knew at the moment it wasn't her immediate problem. Okay. Homeward bound or not, I really need to get to some shelter.


~~Dean~~

Dean crouched low beside his car, tracing his hand along the door. Every unflattering dent he felt underneath his fingers triggered a jolt of disbelief stronger than the last. "No, Baby, no." He said in dismay, travelling down to the backseat door as more dents followed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Baby. I shouldn't have left you." Dean muttered apologetically as he rubbed the dent, pain for his poor car jutting through him.

Sam was watching him a couple feet away, wearing a dark blue jacket over a dark orange plaid shirt and the picture of disinterest. "It could've been worse." At Dean's accusing look, his younger brother shrugged. "Mother Nature, Dean." He said simply.

"Yeah, well. Mother Nature's a bitch." Dean replied irritably as he stood up, moving around to check his car for more damages.

"You done?" Sam prompted, not impressed.

Shooting his brother a half-hearted glare, Dean forced himself to let it go. The Impala wasn't too banged up, save for the dents from all the hail. The storm had started suddenly yesterday and hadn't let up at all until today. It had been so severe even the hunters confined themselves to the bunker. The news was calling it the worst storm Kansas had seen in four years.

Dean leaned against his car door. Instant irritation rushed through him when he felt the dents, but he controlled it. "Okay, so what was up with last night? It was full-on eye of the storm out there."

"Storms are pretty common around here." The younger hunter began thoughtfully. "It came out of nowhere though. Not even the forecasters predicted it."

"Yeah, and they're always right." Dean muttered, glancing at his car again in some bitterness. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "We sure this thing was just a storm?" He questioned, glancing at his brother sharply. "What do we know that just pops up out of nowhere and raises hell around the place?"

Sam become more serious. "Demonic omen?"

The older hunter gave a small shrug. "Could be." He replied casually, though his expression was meaningful. "After the hit back in Michigan by that freak whatever it is, what better time for a demon Bat-Signal?"

"Yeah, but that was in Michigan. We're in Kansas." His younger brother pointed out.

True. Dean acknowledged. It'd been a week since that massacre back at the graveyard and two days since Castiel promised to try to track that new demon. The angel hadn't fed them any new info yet. Granted, a week was more than enough time to travel and Castiel wasn't exactly Dean's most reliable go-to at the moment, but they still didn't have enough information to go on.

"Eh, we need more proof. Could be regular demons, could be our mystery special, or just Bitch Nature." Dean admitted nonchalantly, walking over the driver's seat. "Just saying it seems like a hell of a coincidence if you ask me." He added, opening his door. He stared at the inside, scowling when further consequences of the dents made himself known. Those evil bastards.

"We should inspect the rest of the damages. See how much the rest of the town got hit." Sam remarked, coming over to the passenger's side. "If it's real bad, then I guess we're know what the culprit was."

Dean wasn't listening, still cursing insults in his head at any demon possibly behind the state of his poor car.

"Dean!"

Dean snapped out of it, raising his head. Sam was looking at him in exasperation. "Yeah." The older hunter agreed distractedly, pulling back and seating himself in the driver's seat. He made a silent promise to himself to douse the dents with boiling water and spruce his car back up when he got the chance.

Sam sat down on the passenger's side. Dean experimentally put his keys into ignition, managing a small smile when the Impala roared to life. "Alright. Let's go clean up after Hard Rain, huh?" The Winchester joked, glancing behind him as he started to back the car out. Sam scoffed.

The Men of Letters bunker was built on the outskirts of city, but the drive to town had still been relatively short. Dean wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but by the time he drove up he had gotten a pretty good picture. At least three car accidents had resulted from the storm. Windows in shops cracked under the hail, but those had been lucky. Many broke and shattered completely. Debris had just started getting cleared off the road. Cars had been dented by the hail and some drove in rickety movement. It was almost a picture out of a disaster movie.

Parking the Impala on a curb, the Winchester brothers stepped out. They rooted themselves to the edge of the street, keeping a careful distance from the thick of the action to get a better view of the whole scene. There wasn't too many people critically injured. Most just had a lot of bruises. There was one ambulance on the far street. It, for intents and purposes, could've been worse.

Problem was, Dean wasn't a glass half-full type of a guy. The whole glimpse of the case made his skin crawl. He had known something was off with that storm. His hunter instincts had screamed all kinds of wrong. Seriousness fell over the Winchester. Sam was pensive beside him and he knew without saying his brother was thinking the same.

"That look like a gift from Mother Nature to you?" Dean said pointedly, solemn.

"It's a demonic omen." Dean could almost hear the sigh in his little brother's voice. "You think it's from that demon?" He asked, turning to his older brother uncertainly.

"What else could it be?" The older hunter answered incredulously.

"We still don't know anything about it ... but a omen, this close to our home base?" Sam began meaningfully, concern in his green eyes. "I mean, if it really is that thing ... doesn't that bother you?"

The older Winchester paused to let the words sink in. His brother was right. That was cause for concern. The Men Of Letters bunker was warded against nearly everything, but this new kind of demon was in an entire different field altogether. That realization startled him. Whatever was different about it, did it make them detectable?

"If our new secret clubhouse is already being tagged ... great. Nice going, Men of Letters." Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. They used the bunker as their base not even a full month and already it might've been too good to be true. He almost snorted at their luck. Like he had ever really believed in that secret society warding crap anyway.

"What does it want, Dean?" His brother asked uneasily.

The older hunter said nothing. The weight of the question settled on his shoulders himself. He swept his eyes once again over the disheveled and damaged street, focusing on the shaken and bruised citizens. " ... Well, it ain't gonna be sending us a basket of roses, I'll tell you that much." He answered at last grimly.

Tense silence settled between the brothers, feeding off each other's apprehension and pensiveness like a lightning rod. At last, Sam broke the silence with the sigh. "I guess we'll just have to keep looking. 'Cause it looks like this thing isn't going to give us a break anytime soon." The brown-haired hunter stated wearily.

Dean nodded slowly, already planning out their next moves. The demon was hanging around somewhere, and whatever it was trying to find, one thing was for certain: it was out for blood. Resignation and a tingle of frustration shot through him. He sighed. Looks like it's back to hitting the net and hitting the books.


~~Buffy~~

Buffy paced in front of a quilted grayish-brown bed, enclosed by four blank walls. The gray dawn of morning dared to show itself through the window by peaking between the aged blue curtains, but they were firmly shut. Not a single lamp was lit, keeping the room shadowed. The blonde slayer's posture was rigid, arms crossed and deeply troubled.

In the thick of the storm, the blonde slayer managed to reach the nearest motel. Checking in under a different name and "borrowing" a duffel bag in the motel reserves to hide her scythe (she had found it a few feet away from where she woke up) had been relatively easy. Holed up in there for two days and in country out on an international manhunt for her? Not so much with the easy.

Two days. Two days of being caged in by weather, still dressed in the same clothes, and still having absolutely no idea what the hell was going on. Naturally, that had left Buffy alone with the things she hated most: confusion, restlessness, and anxiety. Overall, a lot of thinking and a hell of a lot of nothing to do. When had that ever been her friend?

Buffy sighed, standing in place. Snatching her cell out of her back pocket, she played with it. No signal.

Still no signal. She called her friends as soon she found shelter, but her phone was completely obsolete. It couldn't have been the storm. Could've had to do with the area. She was in the middle of nowhere and Kansas was the poster state for the middle of nowhere. Whatever the reason, it just flat-out refused to work.

The blonde slayer glanced at the motel phone longingly. She tried that too. All she had gotten was disconnecting beeps and that was only when no one answered. When someone did, it was never one of her friends. In fact, all of them said she had the wrong number when she knew she had gotten them right.

None of this can be good ... what if someone finally found our secret hideout? Maybe that was why the military hadn't located her yet. They already stormed the castle and were either killing or arresting her friends.

A deep, dark pit opened down in Buffy's stomach. If that was the case, she hadn't been there to protect them. The slayers would fight, but ... how many more of them would die? How many humans would die?

Buffy shook herself, trying to get herself together. She needed action, not stress. If she couldn't reach her friends, then she had to contact them in other ways. If that didn't work, then ship herself off to Scotland and find out for herself. Okay. So what are my options? The blonde thought again, focused.

The Slayer Organization had an emergency contact set up. Buffy also still had slayers deployed in Arizona, Florida, and California. The only problem was that risked exposure. The government could follow the emergency contact through the phone lines and if Buffy used the slayers, she'd attract attention to them like a lightning rod. Buffy was the one America hated most. If she wanted to get herself and all her slayers killed, there would be no better way than that.

I am not risking their hides by jumping in and putting 'Kick me' signs on the backs. So check those off the list. Buffy thought, expression hard with certainty.

After a couple moments assessing the situation, the blonde realized the doors were closing. What else was left? Faith? Her frenemy slash sometimes friend was living in Ohio now, guarding the Cleveland hellmouth and had slipped into obscurity. If Buffy contacted the dark slayer, she could help her evade the government and hitch a ride back to Scotland.

Have I really sunk that low to Faith? The blonde slayer thought, too weary to care. That was when you knew she was desperate. Resigned to her fate, Buffy didn't complain. She would track down the wayward slayer soon enough ... but not yet.

I was sent here for a reason. By another Big Bad or the Powers, I don't know and I don't care. Either way, it all chalks up to one thing: more hoops. Buffy thought grimly. She knew the game. Ten years of a being slayer and some things never changed. Someone was either out to kill her ... or out to use her. Three years of finally being left alone and it was over. Just like that.

Buffy let out an annoyed breath. Why is that she was just never allowed to have a life? It didn't matter what she did or hard she fought. She always ended up in the same place: standing alone carrying a weapon and beating back some supernatural force.

Her tumultuous thoughts turned back to her friends. Anxiety swallowed back her anger. Buffy couldn't remember a time the organization had ever been this untraceable to her. The silence was eerie. Whatever was going on with her, the uncertainty of not knowing what was happening to them bothered her more.

Something's wrong ... I-I have to do something. Buffy thought uneasily.

She didn't know if the military had anything to do with this, but it certainly made sense. A little striking up a partnership with some random demon to remove her and then attack headquarters? It could happen. If the government had finally taken them down, then it would be everywhere in the papers.

A tangle of fear and reluctance weaved it's way through Buffy when she realized what she had to do. It was reckless, uncertain, and could easily get her locked up or killed ... but if it meant she might find out if her friends were alright, that didn't really matter. She had to go out on the town and start asking questions. It was an uncomfortable level of exposure Buffy hadn't dared try since Los Angeles ... but at least this time the only person to risk was her.

The slayer tried to rationalize it. The government hadn't openly targeted her or the Slayer Organization in at least two years. They may have given up by now and called off the searches, like Xander guessed.

Did Buffy truly believe that?

Hell no.

It was a nice thought for her nerve though.

Buffy walked over to the window, pulling the curtains back. She stared past the motel parking lot to the damaged trees and kicked up debris from yesterday's storm to the small buildings and shops until resting on the cars driving ignorantly on their way. The whole sight looked so normal it was easy to forget the last four years had ever happened, as if she was just on vacation with nothing to worry about but slaying and finding a way back to Sunnydale. She was "home".

Reality set in and with it, the burden on her shoulders. " ... Yep. No place like home." Buffy said tiredly, staring out the window wearily.

####

The blonde slayer walked down a busy little street, blending in with the crowds. Tension pooled in a tight cord in her stomach as she tried to act natural, unable to stop herself from giving brief, superstitious looks around. She had no disguise. No back up. Just her in all her glory, back in her birth country and surrounded by a sea of enemies. She was walking through a minefield and with every step, a bomb could go off.

This was a terrible idea. Truly her worst. Someone could see her, report to police, and next thing you know she'd have a one-way express on American's Most Wanted train. Buffy scoffed ironically. She went to all this trouble telling her slayers to keep to the shadows yet here their general was, out in the open. She couldn't even follow her own advice.

To keep herself from seriously considering she was having another dumb blonde attack, Buffy busied herself with studying the streets. When she was deeper into the city, she eventually found a local bar called Midwest Goods on the far side.

Original. The small blonde slayer thought dryly, staring at the sign.

If she wanted to figure out if the Slayer Organization was still in hiding, then this place would be it. A demon bar would've been nicer. She wouldn't have to worry about subtleties and could just beat the information out, but she guessed this would do.

I need to know what happened to my friends. Time to mingle and go fishing. Buffy resolved.

Of course, there was that tiny hitch all her questioning would get her recognized, leading to exposure and being on the run, all in all ending in a colossally bad day, but ... what were the odds?

Great. The slayer grumbled, not even able to psych herself out of it. Using her friends as motivation, Buffy let out a breath and braced herself. Feeling like she was walking on needles, the blonde took a step forward and proceeded cautiously inside.

The place was packed. Loud rock music played in the background, overlapped by the clamor of the kitchen and the guests. A large menu sign was propped up close to the door, listing specials ten percent off. It was all cheap and obnoxious and far from the places she had frequented in Europe, but still Buffy found herself smiling a little. She was definitely back in America again.

Scanning the bar, the slayer mentally assessed her next move. Looking between the booths or the front bar, Buffy chose the front bar. She was definitely not out to drink today, but it was the easiest link to start off a conversation for any kind of information. The blonde slayer seated herself on the stool, sliding in beside a man.

Buffy let a quiet breath, her mind working a mile a minute and trying to hide how on edge she was. She wasn't that good at fishing for information in ways that didn't include violence ... but she wasn't dealing with demons. She was dealing with people. People that if she was too obvious with may very well call her good friend the government.

But no pressure, no pressure. The blonde slayer chanted in her head, willing away her nervousness. God, this was humiliating. Whatever the military said about her, she hadn't done anything wrong. Why did she have to let them make her uncomfortable in her own skin in her own country?

"Hello, ma'am. What would you like to today?"

Startled, Buffy raised her head. Out of habit, she expected the person to be one of her slayers, but the young woman in front of her was normal. She was filling a glass with beer from a dispenser, her dark hair pulled in a bun and wearing a dark green apron. Nothing but clinical politeness and a hint of curiosity was in her expression.

"Nothing thanks." The blonde mumbled.

"Well, tell me if you change your mind." The waitress gave a small smile, then took the beer and rushed over to another customer a few seats down.

Buffy breathed a sign of relief, relaxing the tension in her muscles. Not a single sign of recognition for Buffy Summers, leader of a terrorist organization and Public Enemy Number One. This was already going better than she had expected.

"You sure you're old enough to be up here, little lady?"

The blonde slayer turned. It was the man seated beside her, a beer between his hands. He was older, lanky and tall and probably somewhere in his fifties. He had brown graying hair and a slight scruff on his face (equally as graying), dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans. He was staring with near-amusement, his blue eyes crinkling.

Buffy smiled. "I'm old at heart." She quipped.

"Rough night?" He prompted, more as a fact than a question.

The blonde slayer gave him a look. "You would not believe me if I told you." She said with feeling.

The old man chuckled. "Ah, figures. No one comes around to places like this and doesn't have something going on." He remarked, taking a sip of his beer. "Let me guess. Up too late partying, woke up hung over?" At the slayer's surprised expression, he smiled slightly. "You got the look."

Recovering from her surprise, she smiled. "Hung over. The worst. Blackouts, waking up somewhere else, headaches, the whole enchilada." Buffy went along with flippantly, nodding her head vigorously. Considering the past couple days, that actually wasn't too far from the truth.

He snorted. "In that case, you're lucky that's all you got. That storm could've carried away a tiny thing like you." The older man replied a bit more seriously, drinking his beer. "I'm Tom by the way. Tom Hendrick."

Buffy studied the man a second. "... Anne. Anne Hamill." She answered, keeping her voice cool. No way was she was giving away her real name. Even if this man seemed friendly and clearly did not know who she was, she was still in a country out to get her. She wasn't taking any chances.

"Nice to meet ya, Anne." Tom looked over his beer at her, curiosity in his eyes. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

"Y-yeah. I just got in a few days ago." The blonde slayer suppressed the tension that was trying to fight it's way to surface again. "Too bad I'm not one of those storm chasers, 'cause otherwise that welcoming party would've been a real turnaround." Buffy remarked as she stared at her hands, tone carefully casual.

"Yeah, that storm was somethin'. Worst one Kansas' seen in years. Came out of the damn blue. Cracked a few of my windows. I mean, damn." The older man said meaningfully, holding his beer. "Those weather forecasters ain't good for nothing." He muttered, shaking his head.

Buffy observed Tom, relieved he was making this information thing so easy. "Mother Nature. She's always got a few surprises up her sleeve." She agreed casually. "Beats terrorist trouble though, if you ask me. Says probably every person from California." The slayer brought up nonchalantly, ignoring the prick of hurt her own statement caused.

Tom looked curious. "Why California?"

"Y'know, the big ka-boom. Rained down fire and brimstone, shortened them by one small-town city." The small slayer answered with a shrug. Buffy braced herself for outrage and disgust, but when she looked back at Tom there was only confusion on his face. She gave him a look. "Sunnydale." She emphasized meaningfully.

"You mean Sunnyvale?"

"No, Sunnydale." Buffy almost snapped. How was this guy not grasping this?

Tom frowned, then shook his head. "Never head of it. You must've got it mixed up, missy." He answered matter-of-factly, regarding her with a skeptical eye. "Only thing close to that I know of is Sunnyvale, and that city's fine. No terrorist trouble."

"You're kidding. You've never heard of Sunnydale." The blonde slayer replied in disbelief. "Three years ago? The evacuation?" At the old man's still uncomprehending expression, her outrage levels skyrocketed. "It was on the news! The huge, town-size crater?!" Buffy said incredulously, throwing out her hands.

Tom looked baffled. "California doesn't have a crater. At least not from any town. Now I don't know where you heard this, but I know for damn sure it's not true." He told her, sounding certain.

"You don't—" The slayer broke herself off in a noise of exasperation. Am I with stupid or something? She wondered. Buffy crossed her arms, weighing him with an unimpressed look. "... Now do you permanently live under a rock or is just on weekends?" She asked sarcastically, looking at him innocently.

The old man looked amused. "Wow, Anne. That hangover sure did a number on you." He remarked, completely unaffected. He even chuckled a little.

Buffy was shocked. She knew what happened in Sunnydale. It was the very catalyst that gave them a bad terrorist rap and why the government started going after them in the first place. It had ruined her life and exiled the Slayer Organization and she sure as hell remembered all that. It was absolutely impossible that anyone, especially in the U.S., didn't have this as common knowledge.

Not in the mood for smokescreens anymore, the blonde slayer voted to hell with subtlety. "What about the Slayer Organization? The ... terrorist group." Buffy pushed with only slight discomfort, her green gaze intent.

"Slayer Organization?" Tom was bewildered again. "Never heard of it. Not like there's been much terrorist trouble anyway."

If Buffy had been shocked before, now she was disturbed. He looked genuinely lost. That's impossible ... Everyone knows about us. There's no way this .. even if they stopped looking ... Shaken as she was, the blonde slayer could hardly think. A strong, intense feeling tugged at her gut. A dark feeling. Something was so wrong. Why did it suddenly seem like her friends had been wiped off the face of the Earth?

"Listen, Anne ..." Tom began, his features twisting in meaning. "If you ask me, you should lay off on any more alcohol. Go home. Take coffee, pills, sleep a little. Whatever nurses that little hangover of yours." He advised.

Too unnerved to push the subject any further, Buffy nodded slowly. "You're right. It's j-just the hangover talking. Not fully functioning yet on the brain waves." She said, trying to be humorous and a bit embarrassed as she forced a smile. "Thanks, Tom."

The old man grunted, downing the rest of his beer. He pushed himself off the stool, standing to his feet. "Well, I gotta go. " Tom announced, shoving the empty glass away. "It was nice meeting you, Anne."

"You too." Buffy answered back quietly, still keeping the ghost of a smile on her face.

Tom was already walking away, giving one half-hearted wave as he headed towards the front doors. The blonde slayer was left alone, watching as the bar doors closed.

The blonde slayer swiveled her stool back to facing the bar, her arms on the table. What ... was that? Buffy found herself asking, shell-shocked. Her biggest concern when she started this was the risk of getting caught. Now ... she honestly didn't know anymore. She envisioned many scenarios before she set out, but this definitely hadn't been one of them.

Why were none of her friends answering? Why were some of her numbers wrong? Why was no one recognizing her? Where was the Slayer Organization? Why did someone tell her Sunnydale didn't exist? Why, why, why, lined up one after another. The questions tormented her. Buffy hardly cared anymore why she was sent here. She just wanted to know her friends were alright.

It was just one guy. Maybe he just doesn't watch the news. It doesn't have to mean anything. The blonde slayer rationalized.

The part that screeched Buffy to a halt though was her and her organization had been the hot topic of the country. Propaganda posters, acts of violence, wanted signs. Anything pinned international manhunt, it had been aimed at her. How could anyone not know that or at least heard about it? Especially the crater in California?

Buffy shook her head, trying to compartmentalize the worry to a different corner in her mind. She had only questioned one person. His opinion didn't reflect everyone's. It was impossible for no one to know about the Slayer Organization. Absolutely impossible.

Maybe it wasn't the military. Maybe it was something else. She considered seriously. Buffy woke up all the way in Kansas, miles and miles away from Scotland, and now none of her friends knew how to answer a phone. Coincidence? Buffy thought not. Looks like that Big Bad finally stepped out of the bushes.

"Great. Just what I needed." Buffy muttered to herself.

Factoring everything, if that was indeed what this was, that led to one conclusion. A new evil figured cutting off the Slayer Organization from the leader (her) would make the rest vulnerable and attacked HQ when her back was turned. Likely ended in cutting off all phone lines and retreat or ... the other option. The option Buffy didn't want to think about.

Buffy sighed. She knew how evil worked. It'd be just like them to do something stupid like that, but she knew her slayers could handle themselves. There's no way they could all be gone. No. They're not. They're must've ... retreated or something. I just need to find them. The blonde slayer thought, certain. But what about Dawn? What if that happened and she got caught up on that?

The slayer's whole world seemed to lurch. Instant fear and anxiety pumped through her veins. Oh, Dawnie ... She thought, pained. Whatever was going on back at the base, whatever their differences ... Dawn needed to be safe. She had to be. Buffy had lost so much. She had lost their mother, Angel, and Spike. She could not lose her sister too.

The fear was like a virus, threatening to extinguish her under the weight of her friends and everything she cared about, but it was about as useless to her as wisdom teeth. All these were just guesses. She didn't know if she was right. Not without anything to go one. Slow down, Buffy. You're letting your imagination run away with you.

Instinct suddenly screamed alerts to Buffy as a chill crept up the base of her spine. The blonde slayer turned around sharply, scanning the bar for the source of the bad vibe. It was early nighttime now and the bar had cleared out some, allowing her a better casing of the place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until reaching a corner in the back.

There was a young girl, dressed in a black-and-white dress and with short, blonde hair. A man towered over her, one hand on the wall as the blonde smiled and looked up at him adoringly. Buffy focused on the man, her whole rigid. He was skinny, dressed in a long-sleeved green dress shirt and dark pants. He had a bald patch on his head and a brown mustache, smirking down at the girl. Completely normal. Except ...

His smirk wasn't just a seductive smirk. It seemed darker, in certain angles even a hint of cruel. Buffy stared at him so intensely she was certain she could burn a hole through him. There was something about that man ... a feeling. He just didn't seem human.

Vampire? Buffy wondered warily. It definitely fit the pattern of how and when they caught prey, but something about that didn't feel right either. She knew vampires. This guy had the vibe down, but it wasn't quite the same? The blonde slayer couldn't explain it.

The man leaned down, whispering something in the girl's ear. Warning bells inside the slayer's head rang louder as the girl nodded, smiling as the man grabbed her hand and led her towards the back door. Buffy tensed. That girl's in trouble. With only brief hesitation, she rose from the stool and followed. Whatever that thing was ... she was killing it.


~~Dean~~

The liquid went satisfyingly down Dean's throat as he set the beer back on the table, letting out a sigh. His eyes followed the waitress as she milled between customers at the booth and the bar, tracing over the lines of her body when she wasn't looking. The Winchester couldn't stop a smirk. Hot waitresses? Always a perk.

Dean had been on a run for food to stash in the bunker, but he drove past a bar booming with business and got a little side-tracked. After only a little hesitation, the hunter had went inside. What the hell, right? Last he saw Sam was researching his ass off for any more demonic omens in Kansas and probably still was. One beer and he was out of here, getting food.

The brothers had spent all day continuing to look into the storm. People in the town still seemed shaken, but were dealing well enough more or less. Nothing too unusual popped up. At one point Dean considered the idea him and Sam were still on the edge by that mystery demon and just paranoid, but he knew better than that. With that new demon running around, there was no such thing as "paranoid".

Even just relaxing with a beer in a bar, Dean still was tense. He was getting restless. If we're still drawing empty on Armus the demon in a couple more days ... then we gotta hit the road. Catch us another case. He thought seriously. At that point, Dean didn't see how it could still be here, if it was here, and not make a move. They had monsters to kill and people to save.

The Winchester drank down his now half-empty beer. Mid-drink, he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye. He halted abruptly, choking on his own beer in his surprise. When he recovered and composed himself enough, he had set down the beer and looked in that direction more closely.

A woman was sitting alone on the far end of the bar, three people and a lot of other seats between them.

Hellooo. Dean thought, feeling as if he hit jackpot. The woman was young, probably in her twenties. Her long, beach blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was tiny and lightly-built with flawless sun-kissed skin and an angelic face. She was a definite looker, even from over here.

Dean stared in interest. A girl that smoking hot had been sitting at the bar this whole time and he hadn't noticed until now?

Now what's a hot chick like that doing all alone by herself? The Winchester wondered sympathetically, noticing how no seemed to be with the attractive blonde. It was a damn shame. She looked tense too and after a moment, Dean caught hints of an apprehensive frown on her face. Clearly she wasn't here for a happy hour.

Maybe he could fix that.

His curiosity piqued, Dean was ready to turn on the charm and start a conversation. Just as he got up and was about to head over, the blonde stiffened and whipped her head around. The hunter froze, certain it was directed at him, but the woman completely glossed over him. Her eyes darted all over the bar until it locked somewhere in the back.

Following her gaze, the Winchester saw a couple hooking up in a corner. The girl was hot and the guy was obviously a sleazebag, but other than that it was nothing special. He looked back at the blonde girl quizzically. Her expression was hard, fixed unblinkingly on the man. Ex-boyfriend? He wondered.

God, he hoped not. The girl was too classy and good-looking for that.

Then the guy made his move and headed with the girl to the back door. The blonde's whole body was rigid, a hint of urgency on her face and before Dean knew it, she was off the stool and following after. The hunter watched in surprise as the blonde woman walked right past him, not even giving him a single glance.

Dean could only stare after where the blonde chick disappeared. I just got blown off. He thought, appropriately taken aback. That guy was her ex-boyfriend, he was sure now which was a tragedy to hot women and every guy everywhere specifically him.

What a damn shame. The Winchester shook his head, disappointed. Figures.

The hunter returned to his beer. He took more swigs, but his attention was wandering now. He couldn't help but keep looking at the back door. What was going on between those three was probably some annoying-ass love triangle drama, but something kept him wondering. That blonde had walked like a woman on a mission. He couldn't help it. It had his curiosity.

He sat there a moment, fidgeting slightly as he tried to finish his beer. Ah, screw it. Dean put down the beer, threw cash on the table and rose from the bar stool in one fluid motion. He headed over towards the back door, cautiously slowing down as he drew closer and spotted powder on the floor a few feet from it.

Dean crouched down, wiping the powder off with his finger. His mood instantly went south when he recognized it: sulfur, old-fashioned sulfur this time. The hunter shook his head, instant annoyance on his face. He had expected he'd run into one sometime soon, but he had been hoping it'd be the one they were after.

Dean raised his head, staring at the door. The trail of demon bread crumbs was leading to that blonde girl and that couple, meaning one or more of them were in trouble. Wiping the sulfur on his jeans, the hunter stood up and headed out the back door. Dean didn't know who's ass he was saving, but he knew he was saving somebody.


~~Buffy~~

Buffy stood outside, swiveling her head for the mystery man and his victim. She caught them just in time, leaving the parking lot and walking out into the street. Expression screwed up in determination, the blonde slayer followed. Needing to be careful not to draw attention from pedestrians or the monster she was tailing, she plastered herself behind buildings, glancing over to make sure they were still in sight.

Rooftops were easier. After traveling around Europe a couple years and living around a Scottish village, Buffy had gotten used to climbing buildings to stay unseen when trying to tail something. Now she was in Lebanon, a small-town city very much like Sunnydale had been. No more high rooftops or climbing.

The slayer tracked them stealthily for nearly a block when they stopped, making out with each other and pulling into a secluded alleyway. Ignoring the 'squick' factor by reminding herself this was an evil monster, Buffy closed the cautious distance and hurtled herself after them. The blonde swung around the corner, her eyes darting frantically for any sign of them.

Did I lose them? She wondered.

Muffled screams and sounds of struggle reached the blonde slayer's ears. Springing into action, Buffy bolted down the wide alleyway and twisted into another, following the noise. The man had the young blonde girl pinned to the brown brick wall, his hands on her painfully as he aggressively kissed her neck. "No! Stop it! You're hurting me!" She cried, struggling in vain.

"Ah, quit crying!" The man growled. "Whiny slut!" He said, punching the girl in the face. She cried out, but he covered her mouth to stifle it.

Buffy propelled herself at them like a torpedo. The guy barely registered it when the slayer attacked, her punch connecting with his face before hitting him with the back of her arm. "Welcome to the 21st century, Lee Majors. 'No' doesn't mean 'yes'." Buffy taunted, closing in on the man on the ground.

The battered woman behind her stared at the slayer a moment, eyes wide with shock and fear, then took off down the alley. The thing Buffy hit was getting to his feet. He shook his head, looking at her with warning in his eyes. "Oh, not smart, girl. Not smart." He said in mock sympathy, making a tsking sound.

A hit that hard and not a single bruise on him. Yep. Not human. The blonde judged, her slayer instincts right all along. Temptation to whip out her scythe and slice this creature roared in her, but she didn't have it on her right now. She hadn't wanted to draw suspicion carrying it around in her duffel bag when anyone could've recognized her.

It was back to the old-fashioned way.

The small slayer threw out an immediate jab, but the monster caught it and tried to twist her arm with inhuman strength. Buffy send a harsh uppercut with her free arm right to his chin. His head bobbed and the blonde slayer punched him on both sides of the face before kicking him in the stomach, grabbing him, and throwing him onto the dumpster.

"I learn on the job." Buffy deadpanned, savoring the look of surprise on the whatever-it-was.

The man wiped his mouth, a trickle of blood coming out. "Now there's something different about you ... something special." He mused, chuckling as he smirked. "That's quite a punch for such a little girl."

The blonde slayer walked slowly towards him, each step filled with a threat. "You ever heard the saying 'Don't mess with a slayer'?" Buffy remarked casually, poised to fight while mentally trying to figure out what this thing was. It looked human, but it wasn't a vampire.

"The hell is that?" The monster asked, uncomprehending.

Definitely not a vampire. "You're kidding. You haven't ..." The blonde reacted incredulously, breaking off and shaking her head. "Wow. Well, I'm just Miss Yesterday today, aren't I?" She stated, the light tone tainted by exasperation.

The monster charged. Buffy put up her defenses, blocking the punches and kicks, but started to have a harder time reacting. This thing was trying now. He must've had thought she was just human. And it was strong, not stronger than her, but enough to be a challenge. When the thing finally landed a hit, it was hard in the face. She swiveled and with another blow, she half-fell.

Buffy glared up at the smirking face, set in a crouch position. Now she was pissed. "Okay. You don't know what a slayer is? Fine. Let me show you!" The blonde, taunt with anger, launched herself at the monster. She bowled him to the ground, straddling him. She punched it several times in the face, no mercy now.

"Bitch!" The monster growled in pure fury. In the one millisecond she reached for her pocket with one hand, he snatched her fist with a hard grip. He crushed it, making the slayer emit a noise of pain, and then threw her forcefully off him. Buffy took the fall in an uneven roll. Soreness radiated from her right hand, but she ignored it. Buffy looked up at him challengingly, ready for more.

Pure shock filled her when she got a look at his face. His eyes, previously a shade of green, were completely black, even the whites. Anger smoldered in them. "What the hell are you?"

"My question, thanks." Buffy shot back in a glower, getting to her feet.

"You know, it's too bad. That one girl ... I was just looking for fun." Black Eyes started, giving a cruel smirk. Instantly the smirk was wiped off. "But you pissed me off. You aren't getting off that easy." He added in meaningful threat, pointing at her. Something shiny gleamed and he pulled out a knife.

Buffy tensed slightly, but remained calm. "Oh, lookie there, a monster with a knife." She responded sarcastically, wholly unimpressed. She shook her head. "There just isn't standards anymore."

"Cocky little—" The monster broke off angrily, charging and lashing out with his knife. The blonde slayer dodged, fending him off with a roundhouse kick. Black Eyes grunted, off-balance and stumbling. As he held his stomach, Buffy swiftly pulled out a stake.

Okay, she knew how this looked. This thing, whatever it was, wasn't a vampire. She had no idea what it was, which was a first for her in a long time. A stake probably wouldn't work and she had no idea what would honestly, but she was improvising. Some of her best fights had been won improvising.

The monster's eyes widened slightly at the stake and burst out laughing. The slayer scowled. Black Eyes crept closer to her, rotating his knife. "... Now what exactly do you expect to do with a thing like that?" He inquired in amusement, stopping when he was right in her face.

His knife sailed towards her again. Buffy dodged both strokes swiftly, then grabbed his arm. "Something like this." She said casually. She twisted his arm and it snapped, letting his knife fall to the floor. In the monster's moment of pain, Buffy gripped her stake with both hands and plunged it deep into his shoulder.

Black Eyes groaned, slightly sinking. The blonde slayer's eyes darted around quickly, looking for a better weapon. Thinking fast, Buffy broke a pipe off from a building and stabbed him from behind in the angle she knew the heart typically was. It went straight through him, sticking out the other side. He fell on his side.

The blonde slayer let out a breath of relief, certain it was over. Then her blood went cold.

Buffy watched in wide-eyed dread as the monster got up, gripping the pipe and pulling it out. "Ah, son of bitch!" He exclaimed in angry pain as he pulled it out fully, breathing hard. He turned around. Catching the slayer's stunned look, he smirked. "You walked into the wrong fight, little girl. It takes a lot more than that to kill me." He drawled, tossing the blood-drenched pipe across the alley.

I ... don't know how to kill it. Buffy realized in utter disbelief. She could beat it up and stab it with any object all day, but all she'd be doing is tiring herself out and eventually just getting killed. It's like it's ... immune or something. She thought, unsettled. It was like with vampires, except stakes killed them. What did she do now? Run away?

As the monster pulled out the stake too and started to advance, another person appeared in the alley. He was a tall black man, dressed in a black suit. Buffy was about to scream a warning to stay away, but then she saw his eyes were black. Apprehension and annoyance immediately prickled under her skin. Great. Reinforcements.

The newcomer, however, didn't focus on her at all. He was fixed on the other monster, disdain in his features. "You're an idiot, Dawson. You know the King has strict orders now on making our activities too public. You shouldn't have come here." He reprimanded in icy disapproval.

King? Buffy thought, frowning.

Dawson (apparently) threw out his hand, looking at him challengingly. "Come on! I just came for a little fun. Barbie here came along and already ruined my buzz." He said defensively, gesturing to the blonde slayer in visible disgust. He sobered. "There's something different about this one. I don't know what she is ... but she's strong."

The other monster looked at her for the first time, narrowing his eyes as they flicked over her form. "This one?" Detectable skepticism in his voice.

Dawson nodded. "Yeah. She don't look like much, but believe me ... she's not normal." A sadistic smirk crossed his face. "Crowley'd probably like to meet her." He mentioned, dark promise in his eyes.

"Annd I'm gonna stop you there." Buffy spoke at last, throwing up her hand as she moved herself out in the open, away from the walls. "No more trading places in the hot seat. Now I'm sure your friend is great. I'm flattered, really, but let's do it another time." The blonde slayer went on glibly, making a move to leave.

She had to get out here. She couldn't stay and fight both of these black-eyed things. At least not without knowing what killed them. It was fight or flight and as ashamed as she was, Buffy wouldn't let her slayer pride make her stupid. She needed to know if her friends were safe. After that, she didn't care what happened to her.

Black Eyes #2 stepped in front of her. "Where do you think you're going?" He said in a cold voice, towering over her.

Dawson crept closer, smiling at her darkly. "Now as much as I'd like to kill you ... you're our gift to Crowley. Whatever makes the boss happy, y'know?"

Buffy stared them down, unafraid. "Get out of my way."

The monsters didn't budge. Agitated beyond belief, the blonde slayer threw a hard right hook at Black Eyes #2. "Wasn't a question!" Buffy retorted, dodging a punch from Dawson, grabbing his arm, and throwing him to the ground just in time to block the other monster's attack. She glared up at him, throwing a headbutt and knocking him aside.

Buffy stood, breathing heavily. I can't keep this up. She thought, dismayed. She hadn't slept in two days. Already she felt tiredness dulling some of her reaction time. These creatures were immune to everything. They had reserves of stamina and immunity even she didn't have. She had to leave now.

As the monsters were still regrouping and getting to their feet, Buffy was literally a second from bolting. All of a sudden, a deep, harsh-sounding voice pierced the air. And it wasn't coming from the monsters.

"Hey!"

Pure tiredness and frustration funneled through the blonde slayer before she even looked and she almost closed her eyes. Now what?

Another man was silhouetted against the opening of the alley, something resembling a knife in his hand. As soon as Buffy looked at him, the guy was running up. The slayer tensed, rooted to the spot in not knowing whether this new guy was a human or another one of those things.

Dawson was still on the ground, scowling up ahead. "Winchester." Buffy heard him say, the one word so simple but packed with enough recognition and disgust to say a lot.

The guy stopped in front of them. He looked over all three of them warily, resting a second longer on her. The atmosphere seemed to drop. Both monsters were on their feet instantly, eyes turning black. The increased tension in the air startled Buffy. Two things were made clear. First, they knew this guy. Second, whoever he was ... he scared them.

The man's face was hard. "I miss something?" He deadpanned.

Immediately Dawson threw himself at the newcomer. The slayer stared in surprise as the two started to fight, throwing out punches and blocks. As Black Eyes #2 tried to join his friend, Buffy gripped his shoulders and threw him hard the other direction. She glanced back at the man, struggling now against the monster's grip on his arm as it slowly twisted his knife away.

Buffy was about to help, not willing to let this guy fight alone. However, the stranger broke free with a hard punch across the face and another in the gut, adjusting his grip on his knife as he blocked the monster's arm and lunged his weapon right towards his stomach. Realization coiled inside Buffy.

"Don't! Knives don't work!" She shouted.

Her warning must've startled him because his knife missed, granting the monster an opening to grab him by the throat. Dawson lifted him up and tossed him. The stranger collided into the wall on the left, hitting a pole. He groaned, appearing to be muttering curses when Buffy charged Dawson.

Buffy fought persistently against the monster, nailing a couple solid punches and kicks, but her reserves were burnt out. Each one she landed, her enemy seemed to land more. After a good couple punches to his face, her reaction time wasn't as fast anymore and the creature landed a harsh kick in the leg. Pain vibrated through her and she fell to the floor.

The creature leaned over her, smirking at her. "Sorry, Princess. It's been fun ... but there's no use fighting." Dawson mocked in false sympathy.

The stranger from before came up from behind Dawson, his knife barred. The monster turned around just in time to catch his arm, glaring into his eyes. Taking the opportunity, Buffy rushed to her feet and punched Dawson hard in the side of the throat. He stumbled to the side, losing his grip on the other guy's arm when the slayer kicked him, just in time for the stranger to thrust his knife in his chest.

Buffy's eyes widened as orange light flickered from inside the monster. Dawson groaned and then he slumped, the light flickering out. The guy pulled the knife out, both of them stepping back as the body fell to the floor. Surprised green locked on wary green briefly. Buffy looked back down at the monster's body. Wait. There were two.

"Where's the other one?" She asked, looking around.

The stranger's already tense posture seemed to tense further. He looked around himself carefully, but the monster wasn't even in sight. "Son of a ..." He began, breaking off in visible annoyance before shaking his head. "He got away." He said simply.

"What were those things?" Buffy questioned in bewilderment. She could tell by his attitude he was familiar with the supernatural. A lot familiar, if the reactions to him by those monsters were anything to go by.

The man paused, studying her with that same cautious look in his eyes. " ... Those were demons." He said slowly. He was regarding her carefully, as if he was gauging her reaction.

The blonde slayer frowned. Okay. She knew demons and none of the ones she knew had black eyes, and were that annoyingly hard to kill (By the way, what was up with that knife?). But I guess they're just a different kind ... Looks like I haven't seen everything after all. She realized.

"Oh." Buffy uttered, still frowning a bit.

The stranger looked surprised, as if he had expected more of a reaction. His gears seemed to shift after a moment and he scrutnized her more tensely than before, a somewhat hard look in his eyes. "What about the girl? The one who left with Hillybillie Hick here." He gestured to the demon on the ground.

Buffy watched him, her own gears of thought turning. The blonde slayer narrowed her eyes. "You followed me." Though she hid it, that surprised her. She didn't get followed easily. This guy must've known what he was doing.

"Answer the question." The stranger said curtly, his grip tightening on his knife.

You're all charm, aren't you? Buffy thought sardonically. She could tell by the look in his eyes he didn't trust her. The blonde slayer didn't know why. It wasn't like she had anything to hide.

The slayer wasn't intimidated. "She's safe." The slayer told him evenly. She glanced back down at the demon, frowning. "That guy ... I just got a feeling. He wasn't human. I had to be sure." Buffy answered truthfully.

The man scoffed. "Like a 'spider sense'?"

"Something like that." The small slayer responded distractedly. Noticing the still-obvious skepticism in his eyes, Buffy hardened. "The demon tried to kill her and I saved her. I tailed, I came, I got her out. End of story." She said in finality.

The stranger studied her thoughtfully. For the first time since he arrived, Buffy really looked at him. He was tall with short, blondish-brown hair and sharp green eyes. He was muscular, not overtly but lean and sturdy. He was actually more attractive than his clothes suggested, layered in a black shirt under a blue one with a green canvas jacket blanketed over his impressively broad shoulders. Throw in the jeans and the boots and he looked very ... farm boy.

Right. You're in Kansas, Buffy, not California.

"You're a hunter." The stranger's rigid posture relaxed just slightly.

He's a demon hunter! Buffy realized. Everything added up. His lack of fear towards the demons, how they knew him, the distinctive caution he carried even now. It was all the signs of someone who'd seen a one too many things go bump in night. But he was human. She could tell that by his bruises. He was like Riley and Robin.

On better ground with this situation now, the slayer thought carefully how to answer. " ... You could say that." The blonde replied cautiously, her eyes not leaving his face. "Mostly? I'm just someone that needs help."

She wasn't a demon hunter, but she didn't know this guy enough to reveal she was a slayer. Not everyone took her slayerness in stride. Buffy just couldn't risk a fight or flight response from this man. He was like her—sort of—and she needed people like her right now to help her get out of this freaky situation and find her friends. Faith was in a different state. So the slayer was just going to cross her fingers and hope this pretty boy demon hunter had any compassion under the daily killing of things to help a person in distress the way Robin and Riley did.

The man narrowed his eyes, still wary but with a touch of morbid curiosity this time. He glanced down at the body. "Yeah, well. Put the social worker pitch on the back-burner. We gotta get out of here." The demon hunter said seriously as he put his knife back inside his jacket, raising his eyes at her pointedly.

Buffy understood. She let the demon hunter take the lead as they crossed into one of the narrow passages cutting between the buildings, taking them out a different side to travel discreetly into the block and out into the street.

Buffy studied the man's back intensely, buzzing with curiosity. He was older than her, at least in his thirties, and experienced. He knew how to track and stay hidden. With the way he fought that demon, he was also obviously trained. One thing got her the most. He was human and yet the minute he showed, he scared those demons more than she did.

That's gotta be a first. The slayer thought, surprised. In the demon world, The Slayer was the monster boogeyman. Nothing was scarier than her to them. What could be so special about a guy with no powers competing against a slayer?

Buffy narrowed her eyes slightly. Who is this guy?

The entire trip to the bar had been in silence. Tension radiated from the mysterious demon hunter's body and that just made her tense. By the time they re-entered the parking lot, Buffy had been relieved. She had expected they'd be going inside, but instead the man headed straight for a car. It was a classic black muscle car, not one she was familiar with but appealing.

Was it bad that Buffy's first thought when she looked at it was 'How could someone dressed this cheap afford this car'?

"Nice car." The small blonde said when they reached it. Her own voice sounded lame, but whatever was bothering this guy she was trying to be friendly.

"Don't suck up." The man grumbled, turning around and leaning against the car. Buffy frowned slightly at the comment. The demon hunter crossed his arms, staring at her with that same hard look she was beginning to think was his trademark. "Who are you?"

The blonde slayer faltered. Her old "in America, don't give your real name" fears came rushing to the surface, but maybe this time it wasn't the right choice. She needed help and if she was going to get any from this obviously very guarded man, she had to make sure he trusted her.

"Buffy." She answered, meeting his gaze steadily.

"No, really." The demon hunter said, not even blinking. At Buffy's raised brow and confirming look, the guy back-pedaled. Disbelief flitted across his face, but he immediately hardened himself again." ... You said you needed help. Why?" He questioned warily.

"I can't find my friends. No one's answering their calls and it's been two days." Buffy went straight to the point.

The stranger's expression intensified. "You think a monster's behind it?"

"I think it's something." Buffy answered meaningfully. She didn't want to bring up the government option or the Slayer Organization yet. This guy clearly didn't recognize her either and she wanted to keep it that way.

"And you want me to just pull out the SAR wagon."

The skepticism in his voice pissed her off. "Well, I'm so sorry that the safety of my friends is such a strain on you!" The blonde snapped, glaring at the demon hunter. The slayer took in a deep breath. "Look, I've just had a really, really weird past couple days ... and you seem like you know weird. I need help."

The man stared at her steadily, considering. Annoyance rose on his face and the man rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he pulled out his cell phone. "Lemme call my partner. Whatever Hollywood sob story you got left outta that, you feed it to both of us." The demon hunter said begrudgingly, putting his phone to his ear.

The blonde took another breath. "Thank you." She stated stiffly, shaking her head slightly in exasperation as she gave him a look.

The stranger glanced at her, his expression hard to place. Someone picked up on the other line and he refocused. "Sam? Hey, I ..." A flicker of self-consciousness crossed his face. "No, I didn't ... I didn't get food. Look! I found a couple demons." Talk on the line. He smirked slightly. "Nope, old school this time. Smoked one of 'em, the other got away, then I ran into this hunter chick named Buffy ..." He turned to her immediately with a scowl, still holding his phone. "Buffy? Really?" He said incredulously.

Buffy watched with crossed arms, shrugging and quirking her lips. The demon hunter focused back on his phone. "What? Yeah. Anyway, this girl's saying she needs our help." Pause. The stranger listened to a voice at the end of the line. "Got it. We're at Midwest Goods bar. Meet us there." He hanged up and looked back at her.

"Now was that so hard?" The blonde slayer mocked, looking over at him pointedly.

The demon hunter crossed his arms again, not amused. "He's coming." He told her gruffly.

The blonde slayer almost sighed. I'm starting to seriously reconsider my choice of help. Buffy thought, exasperated. This demon hunter was clearly not a people person or probably even that friendly. Don't think she didn't miss the veiled distrust in his eyes which at this point made even less sense than before.

Could be worse though. It's not like he's telling me to take a hike or anything. She reflected. Buffy couldn't say she had a particularly good first impression of this guy, but something was keeping him here. He could've walked away, but he didn't. Maybe that was his way of giving her the benefit of the doubt. She figured, given her situation, maybe she could cut him a little slack.

"What's your name?" Buffy asked. "If we're going to be using the buddy system, I should probably know your name."

The demon hunter paused, watching her unreadably. " ... Dean." He finally said, the gruff edge absent.

It was a start.


~~Dean~~

Uncomfortable silence settled between the two as they waited for Sam to arrive. Dean kept one eye trained on the mysterious blonde hunter, his crossed arms and tense posture unchanging. Tons of questions plagued the Winchester's mind, begging to be let out. Maybe he thought if he stared at her hard enough, all of them would be answered.

The short blonde looked bored, her own arms crossed. She was dressed in a white sleeveless v-tank top emblazoned with a large, thin cross design extending all the way down the shirt. It was complemented with black skinny jeans and taupe-colored combat boots halfway to her knee. Her hair was tied up in a messy pony tail and her clothes were wrinkled and stiff, like she hadn't ironed them in days. Underneath the boredom, her eyes were two green pools of exhaustion.

Frankly, she looked a little worse for wear ... but still a lot better than she should've. Like smoking hot. A total bombshell. Not that that was point he was trying to make right now or that he was even thinking about that at all. Nope, not today.

A hunter in bite-size taking on two demons by herself and coming out with just a few scratches? Come on. You can't tell me that just happens. Dean thought skeptically, scowling a little. Her skin looked flawless, not a bruise in sight. Him, on the other hand ... his back was all kinds of screwed from hitting that pole and in general his whole body hurt. But this girl?

"You gonna keep giving me the evil eye?" Buffy's flat voice broke through his thoughts.

Dean just narrowed his eyes. "You know ... " The Winchester began cautiously. "You just took on two demons. You don't walk away from a fight like that without getting left a little banged up." Dean wasn't shooting for concerned or accusing. He was just wheedling answers.

Buffy didn't react. She shrugged. "I mend fast." She looked over at him pointedly. "You should be more worried about you."

Dean nearly chuckled. This woman sure had gall. Believe me, sweetheart. Worry's the farthest thing from my mind. The Winchester thought meaningfully. "I'm used to being batted around. No skin off my nose." The hunter replied smoothly, smirking just the slightest.

Her attitude was cagey to say the least. Dean wasn't buying anything she was selling yet. It just didn't make sense how she fought two demons and looked that unharmed. The hunter supposed he could've chalked it up to his male pride not wanting to admit the fact a girl was a better fighter than him ... but that was just it. She was too good. No regular woman had the strength and speed he saw. It was in the heat of battle, but he knew what he thought he saw.

And what kind of hunter thinks she can kill demons without the knife? The Winchester thought, the question nagging him. She had the attitude of a hunter and certainly the fighting skill, but no self-respecting hunter didn't know you couldn't kill demons normally and would've at least known those were demons. It's like jumping straight into the action without ever reading the book.

No. A lot of things about this Buffy woman wasn't adding up. This woman might not be human. He needed Sam for back-up if she wasn't ... and a part of him might still be soft. He supposed it couldn't be that bad if he let her talk as long as he kept his guard up.

Overlooking the parking lot, Dean spotted a familiar tall shape stepping out of the backdoor of the bar. Relief washed over him. "Oh, thank god." He said out loud, not bothering to be polite or even glancing at Buffy. The older hunter waved his hand to get his brother's attention and soon enough he was heading over.

Sam stopped in front of him. Dean exaggeratedly gestured to Buffy. "Sam ... I found Gretel." He said dryly, a sarcastic smile plastered on his face.

Buffy glared at him, then turned to his brother. "Buffy, actually." She introduced herself, shaking hands with Sam and having a much friendlier look in her eyes.

His younger brother smiled politely. "I'm Sam, Dean's brother."

"And you're a demon hunter too?" Buffy checked slowly, sounding half-questioning as she looked him over curiously.

Sam laughed slightly. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Looks we run in the same circles."

"Good." The small blonde said in deep relief, closing her eyes a second. At his brother's questioning look, embarrassment crossed her face. "I-I mean, the more, the merrier. Resumes knee-deep in monsters, weirdness, and the unholy are kind of my go-to right now." She explained awkwardly.

Amusement filled his brother's face. "Well ... you definitely came to the right place." He admitted.

Buffy smiled gratefully. "I'm getting that."

"We done with the intro?" Dean grumbled.

Buffy glanced at him, visibly annoyed. Sam just gave him his typical resigned look. Nearly sighing, his younger brother turned back to the blonde hunter. "Dean told me you needed our help. What happened? Are you on a hunt?"

The small blonde paused, a slight frown on her face. Dean watched this carefully. " ... You could say that." She replied uncertainly. "It's my friends. I can't find them anywhere and all their phones are disconnected. It's been two days and still mootville." Buffy told Sam, her brow scrunching in worry.

Sam was listening attentively. "You got a lead on what might be behind it?"

"Okay." Unable to stay silent anymore, Dean moved from the car and spread out his hands. "Before you dial up Winchester hotline ... have you, and I'm just thinking out loud here ... say tried visiting them?" The older Winchester brought up, looking at her pointedly.

To the hunter's surprise, the blonde's expression darkened. She sighed and hung her head. " ... It's not that easy."

Dean did not get it. "Drive a couple miles, walk a couple yards." He shrugged. "I mean, sure there's a little movement involved, but uh .."

Buffy's look was hard. "We live in Scotland." She remarked, bitingly matter-of-fact.

The older Winchester's mood changed abruptly. He exchanged a glance with Sam, who looked just as surprised. "... Well, you're a long way from home." Dean told her with just a faint touch of sympathy, shaking his head.

"Tell me about it." The blonde hunter muttered, the bitterness obvious.

"Did you have any idea what could've gotten to them before you came here?" Sam asked in slow caution.

"That's the thing. I never came anywhere." Buffy began, serious. "Two days ago, I was in Scotland. I was chasing after this vampire and suddenly ... poof! Bye bye Scotties, hello Sunflower State." The blonde hunter explained. She shook her head. "I don't know what happened. I just know someone put me here and for some reason since then, it's like my friends dropped off the face of the Earth."

Dean was silent, trying to decipher her. She certainly looked sincere. There seemed to be genuine concern in her eyes. 'Course, it could just be the 'Poor Me' act, trying to make us feel bad for her so we'd trust her. Seen it all before.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed to be giving this a whole different kind of thought. "Did you make any enemies, like maybe a witch?" The younger hunter prompted, green eyes focused on her. "They could've brought you here."

"Either that or a demon." Buffy went on wearily. "Not that I'm that sure. With how long I've been doing this ... the anti-Buffy fanclub list doesn't exactly have an off-ramp." She admitted doubtfully, acutely uncomfortable.

"If one of your evil pals got a free shot at you, then why wouldn't they just kill you? Why bring you to us?" Dean questioned skeptically.

"Why do bad guys do anything?" The female hunter responded, giving him a flat look.

Dean considered that point, nodding slightly. No denying that on his part.

"So you really have no idea who sent you here?" Sam pressed.

The blonde shook her head. "Complete blank space. I haven't had that kind of trouble in a ... while." She told him awkwardly, a grimace building. She lowered her eyes somberly. "All I know is someone must've wanted me here. Don't ask me why. I just know it can't be good."

Got that right. Dean agreed. His suspicions were rising again. Was it just a coincidence that after that demon massacre back in Michigan and a demonic omen storm, she pops up, feeding them this sob story? You could so easily fall for it too. This woman's unassuming personality along with her good looks could fool anyone.

Well, y'know what? Screw that. Dean liked the ladies. His woman was definitely something to look more than twice at, but he wasn't an idiot either. Something was off with this girl and he'd be damned if he let a pretty face cloud his common sense and his honed hunter instincts. It was beneath him.

"And why exactly are we supposed to trust you?" Dean said outright, an edge to his voice.

His brother shot him a look. "Dean!"

Buffy's green gaze smoldered. " ... I helped you fight those demons. I could've left you behind and I didn't." The blonde answered tightly.

Dean shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything." And it didn't. Enemies weren't afraid to help you, as long as they got something out of it. Saving your life even meant less than jack and he knew that from experience. Hell, wasn't that Crowley's trademark, their biggest pain in the ass at the moment?

He could sense the icy disapproval radiating off Sam without even looking, but Dean ignored him. Buffy was staring at Dean in outrage. " ... Okay, Einstein. If I'm such a two-faced liar, then how come my story is as ridiculous as sounds? Do you honestly think I'd make up this freak show?" She challenged.

Dean refused to be swayed.

Finally the blonde hunter sighed. "Look ... I realize everything I'm saying is a one-ticket to Crazy Town. I don't want to be here, trust me on that. And I'm sure you guys have your own monsterfests to worry about." She acknowledged, raising her eyes. "But I need to find my friends. So give me something. Anything. Believe me, I would not be standing here asking for help if I didn't need it." Buffy stated meaningfully. "Help me know they're safe. Please."

Her green eyes were wide, desperate and pleading. Conflict stirred in Dean. She couldn't be faking that. Still, he just couldn't explain her strange strength and resilience against those demons. What if she wasn't human? What if she was that new kind of demon they were after? He didn't want to ignore an innocent girl, but there was too many things to consider.

"We'll help you. Where we live ... you can use our resources to try and find them." Sam reassured. He glanced at his older brother more sharply. "We're helping her. Right, Dean?" He prompted, warning in his voice. Like he was ordering him, not telling.

Torn between agreeing with Sam and his own paranoia about a connection between her and this new demon, frustration rose in his chest and he snorted. He wasn't sure himself what he was going to say until he said it. "Whatever. If it means keeping an eye on you. " He muttered, rolling his eyes.

Buffy did not look impressed in any way whatsoever. "My hero."

Dean wasn't fazed. "Just get in the car. We ain't got all night."

The blonde stared at him hard like she was debating whether or not to say something. She ended up just rolling her eyes and letting out an annoyed sigh. She took a few steps to the car, then stopped to look back at Sam. "Thanks for this. Really." She said earnestly.

His brother smiled and nodded. Buffy looked over at Dean with a glare, then worked her way into the backseat of the Impala.

Not giving a single damn, Dean headed for the driver's seat. Sam grabbed his shoulder, pulling him a slight ways from the car. His younger brother did not look happy. "Dean. What was that?" He said in outrage, letting go of him and throwing out his arm.

Oh here we go. The hunter thought irritably, already knowing what going through Sam's mind. "Us rescuing the damsel. What you wanted, right?" He said impatiently.

"Yeah, except since when is that just my thing?" The brown-haired hunter retorted, clearly not buying it. "She's a hunter, Dean. Just like us. She came to us, for help, and you're acting like a dick." Sam accused, his green eyes hard.

"And what makes you think she's anything that she says she is?" Dean challenged.

"What makes you think she's not?" His younger brother shot back, bewildered.

" 'Cause something's off about her!" The older Winchester snapped, raising his voice. Sam narrowed his eyes. "She gets in a smackdown with two demons and comes out shiny and silky smooth. Two, Sam! And I didn't get there first."

His brother shrugged. "So she's a good hunter."

Dean made a incredulous sound in the back of his throat. "Oh, she's great. Fan-friggin-tastic. That's exactly why it's too good to be true." The older hunter argued. "She threw around those demons like damn ragdolls, Sam. Skinny mini packing a punch like that? Yeah, right. She's probably not even human."

" ... You think she has something to do with that demon in Michigan." Sam realized matter-of-factly.

Am I supposed to think anything else? He thought in disbelief. "Well, we don't know jack about that thing, we don't know jack about her. Perfect match." Dean summed up in brutal simplicity.

His younger brother shook his head. "You're throwing her under the bus real fast here, Dean." He expressed doubtfully.

"Come on, man! Line it up!" Dean said impatiently, throwing out his arms. "We discover Mystery Man a week ago, trail goes cold. Then we get hit with a demonic omen and some super strong blonde chick shows up from god knows where, trying to get close to us. That's not a coincidence?" The older Winchester argued.

"Dean ... she said she helped you." Sam reminded him.

Dean snapped his fingers. "Exactly! She helped me. She tried to save my bacon. That's like practically Chapter 2 in Evil for Dummies. They swoop in, save your ass, feed you a sob story, make you trust them, then ..." Dean clucked his tongue, snapping his fingers again for emphasis. "You're out. They screw you over."

"Yeah, or you're just still in Purgatory." His younger brother said drily, giving him a pointed look.

The older hunter faltered, but recovered quick. "I know what I'm talking about, Sam!" He insisted, throwing out his arms. "A mysterious, super-powered hot chick shows up, gets you out of tight spots, and next thing you know you're sleeping with the enemy. Sound familiar?" Dean brought up meaningfully. Sam tensed. "Well, let me tell you something. That is not gonna be me." He crossed his arms. "Nope. Not this Winchester. Mnh-mhm." He denied vehemently, shaking his head repeatedly.

Sam gave him a look. "Thanks." He said flatly. Dean shrugged. It was it was. His brother shook his head. "I don't know, Dean. She looks pretty genuine."

"We can't trust her." Dean insisted seriously.

"Then why is she in your car, Dean? Hell, why didn't you just turn her away?" His younger brother queried incredulously.

The older Winchester said nothing. Reluctance squirmed within him. He knew exactly why. Despite all his doubts and skepticism, he couldn't turn away someone like that in need without having more proof. It was probably a stupid choice, granted. The smart one would've been just to turn her away. But Dean had never exactly been that smart.

Sam read his silence loud and clear. " ... That's what I thought."

Awesome. The older Winchester thought as he rolled his eyes, thoroughly done with this situation and this conversation. "Look, we're giving her a shot, okay?! We just aren't gonna be stupid about it." He told him a little indignantly, resting his gaze on him sternly. That was his last say on the matter.

His little brother nodded, finally looking like he had no more complaints. "Fair enough."

Dean kept his hard gaze pinned on his brother for a moment, then turned and headed to Impala. The Winchesters got in their respective seats. Dean started the car, letting out a bracing breath. "Okay ... Buffy. You got any ideas on where you want to start looking for your pals?" He asked reluctantly.

No answer.

Annoyance pierced the hunter, but he kept his cool. "Fine. Give the silent treatment."

"Dean ..."

Dean glanced at Sam, who was looking behind at the backseat. He followed his brother's gaze, turning himself around. He faltered at the sight instantly. Buffy was sitting on Sam's side of the car, leaning into the Impala's window with her eyes closed. Her breathing was deep, but even. She was fast asleep.

The older hunter made a incredulous noise. His talk with Sam had been maybe five minutes and she was already out like a light. Guess we bore her. He thought dryly. No matter the fight she had, her disheveled appearance and the lines under her eyes her make-up didn't completely cover made it clear she hadn't slept in a while. She looked like she fought ten rounds and lost every one.

He glanced back at Sam. His brother was watching Buffy with an amused, sympathetic smile on his face. The older Winchester shook his head, trying to be annoyed as he looked back at the sleeping blonde hunter. Dean found himself thinking it should be a sin to be such a wild card and still look that innocent.


A/N: There's Chapter 2, guys! You all knew it wouldn't be long until Buffy, Dean, and Sam crossed paths. Poor Buffy. I really do make her go through a lot (and apparently so does Joss ... I guess I just follow his example lol). She is in the Supernaturalverse and she doesn't even know it yet. Like I said, Buffy's story is very complicated and detailed. It'll have a lot of different stages, all leading towards a very specific part at the end of this fic I want her to be at. It all has a purpose, in the end. :)

Buffy and Dean meeting while fighting monsters ... we all know they would never meet any other way lol. Sam/Buffy is also kinda cute, I admit. If it was written during a different time, I could probably see that happening too xD. This story is eventual Buffy/Dean, but it's eventual for a reason. Obviously, based on this chapter they don't hit it off that well. The Buffy/Dean couple is or at least how I think it would've been is a very turbulent one. It's practically impossible for it not to be, given the strength of their personalities. Maybe that's why I ship it. xD

Next chapter some questions will be answered and we'll see more of the Buffy/Sam/Dean trio ... thanks for reading! :)

Thanks for the 5 favorites, 10 follows, and 5 reviews!

NEXT CHAPTER: The Winchesters and Buffy fall into an uneasy alliance. Buffy searches for answers about her friends and why she was sent here. However, when answers fall into their lap, it becomes clear neither of them had been expecting this ...