Buffy's heels clicked against the polished marble floor, sounding out against the white concrete walls of the secret tunnel. Thousands upon thousands of combat boots pounded against the floor, but the sound of Buffy's leather beauties echoed louder. And it calmed her. It made her feel relaxed and rejuvenated, like she had just taken a long winter's nap in a lavender-scented bubble bath. "These jerks affected by the T-Virus are tough, more so than the Turok-Han we faced, and I know some of you didn't get a chance to face those mothers. So just try to hold on tight, it'll be a bumpy ride."

"Uh, Buffy." a weak voice sounded out. Buffy stopped, making the train of people behind her bump into each other in haste to stop as well. The original Slayer turned to see an Australian girl, smaller than her voice, stepping out from the middle of the line. "I have two questions."

"Shoot. Erm, not literally. I mean, shoot with the . . .questionage."

"First, what if our loved ones are in there? In the facility, I mean?" the young girls deep accent made it hard to understand her, but Buffy knew the question and its answer before the word 'our' had left the Australian's mouth. 'What ifs' always had to do with the hard things.

"Look, honey. They aren't your friends or family or whatever anymore. They're monsters. They can't control their urges, they're like vampires, only with a bigger bite. And we all know vampires are evil." Buffy winced, and she couldn't keep back the sudden thought that if Spike had been there, in the tunnel with her, he would have shouted 'hey'.

"But -"

"No buts."

"Fine. Second question: Are you sure we're enough to stop it?"

"Just the question I was looking for . . . Molly . . . Er, Mia. . .Uh Monica . . ." Buffy hated names at the current.

"Mandy." the girl murmured, lowering her head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, Mimi. At the end of this hallway is a door. Behind that door stand two people, should be three, but whatever. One is Alice . . .well, she has her clones and all that shit, but they don't count. I guess they do, they're strong and all, but right now I'm focusing on the main two. One is Alice, you know about her, all of you. She's strong, she isn't a Slayer, but she gets her essence from something else.
"The second, is Van Helsing." Buffy paused to allow murmurs, 'wow's and gasps to travel through the Slayer line. "Yeah, I know. Fucking cool, eh? The third person, should be his lover, Anna. See, Van had a terrible accident, bitten by a werewolf. He got the antidote, but before it had finished its job, the beast in him had killed Anna - snapped her neck. So, we deal with two, two damn good, non-Slayer fighters . . .And Alice's clone-army." Buffy snorted. "Wow, never thought I'd see the day with clones. I mean, vampires, demons, robots, I've faced 'em all in my years. But never met a clone. Today's the day that'll change my world!" The line of Slayers laughed nervously, and their leaders shot them glares that made them shut up.

As the large group neared the end of their walk, some Slayers got a bit fidgety, nervous and excited about meeting the renowned Mr. Helsing. Tiny threads of conversation reached Buffy's ears, and the one she picked up from a semi-literate Chinese girl: "How does Van Helsing stay alive all these year?" made her laugh quietly. Do they know nothing? She thought, exhilarated with the thoughts of fighting that were sure to come by the end of the day. Do they not know that Van Helsing is so near to a God, if he gets any more famous, he'll have his own ascension. . .and possibly some sort of 'bible clothing line 'along with it?

Quick Stupid Author's Note: Truly, the reason Van Helsing lives forever in my book is because he is the offspring of a vampire and a woman (don't ask how, this is AU), giving them the innate capability of detecting vampires (and sometimes other supernatural entities as well). So I guess this V.H. isn't EXACTLY the same popular demon hunter from Dracula. Sorry, gotta go with my artistic license here.

Back to the story.

Buffy sighed. This walk was getting boring. As if to rescue Buffy from death-by-boredom, Willow sauntered up to her best friend. Buffy smiled at her friend and looked at her as if to communicate some big message.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine . . .and, I'm not supposed to be answering out loud, am I?" Willow tapered off.

"It's fine Will. I'm just. I'm scared. Petrified. This is like nothing we've ever faced before."

"Everything we face is like nothing we've ever faced before. It's in your job description, isn't it? Did you lie on your resume to get this job?" Willow's face was set in false consternation. Her handy little Apple laptop was clutched tightly in her delicate white arms. Well, not exactly her first handy little laptop. Because the first one had since turned to a pile of rubble since the collapse of Sunnydale. But Willow had a sleek, white one, just like the one she had toted previously.

"Yeah, Will, guess I did. Remind me, when we get back home, that I'm grounded for a week." she glanced over her shoulder, but not confirming her thoughts, she turned to Willow. "Hey, where's Xander?"

"Discussing back-issues of Mechani-Man with Dork-Vader."

"What is Mechani-Man anyways?"

Willow scrunched up her face and said in a nasally voice. "Ohmylord, you don't know? It's only the best darned comic ever! It beats the socks off of Star Wars even."

Buffy laughed and imitated the same nasally voice Willow had did. "Nothing beats Star Wars, Willow."

By now the tribe had reached the end of the tunnel, and Buffy looked at the metal double doors blocking the troops from getting out. She forced her fingers into a small space between the doors and pulled the walls apart. Before her stood Van Helsing in his own hunky person, clothed in a billowing black cape. Buffy took a moment to focus on him. She studied his muscley frame, memorizing every contour, his red billowy-type shirt he had most likely stolen from a peasant in the early 1860's, his aquiline nose, not that it wasn't attractive, it just looked as if it had been broken beyond repair numerous times. Sensing his deep, emerald green eyes on her, she directed her attention away from him.

And beside him stood Alice, her hair, face, and clothes ashen and dirty. In line behind her were the clones, standing in line just like Buffy's Slayers were behind her, except less fidgety and without variation in dress style. They all wore the same thing, a low-cut red dress, tore off at the thigh, the waist protected by a large weapon holder, housing guns to the extreme. Their boots were all black and sharp at the bottoms, Buffy could tell by the little spikes left in the ground behind the clones. Alice's green eyes twitched to a vivid turquoise now and again, and the Slayer noticed that when they were the light blue color, Alice seemed distant, not all there, as if the change in eye color had changed her entire personality.

Helsing greeted her. He bowed low and swooped back up with amazing grace, and the air was stirred by his motions, filling the air with the scent of musk and . . .Death. Buffy recognized the latter all too well.

"Nice to meet you." she breathed shyly.

"The pleasure's all mine."

"I would have rolled out the welcome mat, but the hallway was too narrow." despite his laugh, Buffy inwardly cursed herself.

"So, do the girls know what's up?" he asked, in a more modern way then she had expected. To tell the truth, she had been expecting a bunch of 'Thou Arts' and 'Shalls' and all of that old-agey stuff.

"Yeah. I would have formed a power circle, but somehow I imagine that would lead to dances and duck-duck-gooses rather than encouragement."

"You're quite funny."

"I get that a lot." she assured him, biting her lip. The other Slayers were crowding around her, blushing and trying to impress the demon-hunter. "I think they like you."

"I heard young girls were a bit like werewolves, ravenous with their mates."

Yeah, Buffy thought. Wait till you watch 'em eat.