As a consequence of the 2011 edit of this fic, I'm going back and adding the "guest stars" (meaning the actors I think would be great to play various OCs, so that you guys know what they look and sound like in my head) when needed. So far, that's only Angel Coulby as Renée.

Episode 10: Enter Nyx

Guest starring (sort of): Angel Coulby (Gwen from Merlin) as Renée Blackwood

and

Rachel Hurd-Wood as Nyx

†

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

Cleveland, Ohio

As usual, the non-slaying crew consisted of Giles, Willow, Xander, Oz, and Cole. Giles had taken the reference book with him to the dining table, where he now sipped tea as he pored over the pages. He was becoming slowly more frustrated as the weeks continued to pass with still no hints to be found of the specific location of the Hellmouth, but he kept at it anyway.

"Well, patrol's over," Xander observed, as all the little white lights began to slowly head back down the map towards the black "X" marking the location of headquarters. "I'm just gonna go down and watch a little training until they get back." He got up, stretched, and headed out, ignoring Willow's suspicious glare. After a moment, Cole decided that Xander's plan sounded like more fun than sitting, so he headed for the stairs as well. Oz gazed at the map with unfocused eyes, very conscious of the fact that, apart from Giles—who was so engrossed in the reference book that he hadn't reacted when Xander and Cole departed anyway, he and Willow were the only ones left on the entire second floor.

"Hey, is Segue in CD form yet?" Willow asked unexpectedly. Oz blinked, then looked up at her.

"Almost," he said. "We hit the recording studio a couple of months ago, but it's still in the finalizing stage."

"Do you ever miss playing with the Dingoes?"

"Sometimes. But Devon never really wanted to, you know, try new things with the music. It was a great band, but I don't think I'd go back. Illogical Stop Sign is kinda my family now."

"Yeah. Well you sound amazing," said Willow. Oz gave a small smile at the obvious sincerity in her voice. She still liked his music. That was worth more to him than any other praise the band had received.

"Thanks."

"So, with Segue, how many albums will you have? I know you've got Aforementioned, too."

"That's it so far."

"And you guys have a new logo, right?" Willow chuckled. "The stop sign with a question mark inside?"

"Yeah. That one was Alex's idea. She was going for the literal. It pretty much sums us up. I can get you a copy of the CD as soon as it comes out, if you want."

"Sure," said Willow. She could do this, right? They were doing the being friends thing. It was nice. She realized with a twinge of guilt that she still hadn't really acknowledged that he had saved her life. Not that he had seemed to be expecting it, but now she thought about it, she felt somehow obligated. "And, well, about last month. When I came to heal Buffy. I just mean, you saved my life. And, thank you."

Oz smirked. "I don't do thanks, remember?"

"You get all red, have to bail. It's not pretty?" said Willow, smiling, "I remember." At the sudden sound of thudding on the stairs, they both jumped and stood up. Seconds later, Slayers began pouring into the room. Giles stood to retrieve the journal, ready to record the night's encounters.

†

Kennedy jerked her curtains closed against the bright midday sun, then kicked the wall in frustration. This both knocked a hole in it and created considerable pain in her big toe. Why did this keep happening? Everything had been wonderful between herself and Willow until they came to Cleveland. And then Mr. Ex-Boyfriend Musician Werewolf came out of nowhere and Willow started acting distant. For the last month in particular, it had only gotten worse, and there was no end in sight. Every time Kennedy even tried to kiss her lately, Willow would pull away and shut her out even more. Kennedy threw herself angrily on her bed. The night before, she had come in with the rest of her triumphant squad and everyone else who'd been on patrol to find Willow standing not two yards from Oz, her cheeks flushed.

Willow hadn't even heard from Oz for over three years before this! He had just abandoned her, after breaking her heart by cheating with another werewolf! So how could she be acting the way she did around him now? How did he have the right to do this? How was this even possible? Oz was a guy, for crying out loud! He wasn't even supposed to be an option anymore! As the fresh hole in the wall indicated, the situation was driving Kennedy crazy. With difficulty, she restrained herself from kicking something else.

"Being all super traveling Watcher hombre is getting kinda hard now, since my Spanish is, well, spotty at best. And keeping track of this many Slayer apprentices is an endeavor built entirely of insanity. I'm not sure what you've got going on back in Cleveland, but if there's any way you could spare someone—or even a few people to come give me some backup, I would love you forever."

Andrew's words rang through Kennedy's mind. She spoke Spanish. Side-effect of fancy schooling and her family's summer home in Madrid. She would be able to help him. And Willow could probably use her magical tracking ability to find the new Slayers even faster. They could go together. Oz wouldn't be able to steal Willow away from her if they were a whole country south of him.

†

"Willow?" Kennedy had entered the kitchen. Willow's stomach squirmed unpleasantly. Ever since she had recklessly leapt into another dimension, things had been strained—well, more so than they already were—between them.

"Hey," she said, attempting to sound happy to see her girlfriend. "What was that sound a minute ago upstairs? I thought I heard a thud and then some swearing."

"Oh," said Kennedy, going red. "I, um. Might have kicked the wall."

"What's wrong?" asked Willow, concerned.

Kennedy relaxed visibly at her tone. "It's nothing," she said hastily, before carefully approaching her point. "I've been thinking," she began, "about how Faith, Wood, and Andrew are out finding the other Slayers."

"Yeah," said Willow, "it's an important mission. I mean, I wouldn't want to be suddenly super strong but not know what was going on." She took a bite out of her sandwich.

"It's definitely important," Kennedy agreed, glad Willow was already sympathizing. "But ever since we got that video from Andrew, I've kinda been thinking about it, and, well, I think we should go too." She said the last bit very quickly, giving Willow a determined look. Upon processing what Kennedy had said, Willow felt nothing but shock.

"Go?" she repeated blankly. Kennedy was frustrated by Willow's confusion, but tried to laugh it off.

"Yeah, I mean, did you see how overwhelmed Andrew looked? He wasn't kidding when he said he needed help," she said.

"That's true, but didn't a few of the other girls already volunteer to go?" Willow asked, frowning.

"I still think we should go, though," said Kennedy. Willow took another bite from her sandwich to avoid responding immediately. She didn't like where this was leading. She knew she wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't, for one thing. She was needed here. But she was sure Kennedy was referring instead to the fact that she didn't want to leave. Which was a little unsettling in itself. She swallowed.

"I can't," she said. Kennedy's face hardened.

"Why not? What's keeping you here?" she challenged. There it was. But Willow was needed in Cleveland. As the only witch of the group, she could do many things the others simply couldn't, and trump cards like that were crucial when it came to dealing with Hellmouths. No matter how much it took out of her, or how much she sometimes felt overwhelmed by her duty, this was her responsibility.

"Weren't you the one who patronized me for skipping one watch to rescue Lorin?" she pointed out, "And now you want me to up and leave the country, so that I'll never be here to heal any wounded Slayers at all?" She wasn't quite sure which one of them was the hypocrite in the situation, but felt sure that Kennedy had rung up a lot of points for herself on that subject.

"You and I both know that's not the only reason," said Kennedy, folding her arms. Willow had absolutely no idea how to respond to that both honestly and without hurting her. Kennedy stood there for a full minute, drawing out a silence more awkward than anything Willow had ever experienced. Then, she abruptly turned her back and stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Willow could hear her banging against things all the way to her room. She remained motionless in her chair, sandwich forgotten. She still hadn't moved when, five minutes later, Kennedy reappeared on the stairs, carrying a bulging duffel bag. She went right on down without so much as glancing at Willow, who stared at the spot where she had disappeared from view. Had that really just happened?

†

Later that day, after participating in an exceptionally intense sparring tournament, Buffy came upstairs to crash for a few hours in her room before it was time to patrol, and found Willow sitting on the edge of her bed. The swollen redness of her eyelids, even though her face was now dry, told Buffy that she had been crying. "What's up?" she asked.

"Uh," said Willow, somewhat listlessly, "Kennedy. She left."

"What?" said Buffy, surprised. "As in, left, not-coming-back, left?"

"Yeah." Willow's throat was tight.

"Are you okay?" said Buffy in concern. Willow looked down at her hands folded in her lap, thinking.

"Well," she began slowly, finding it difficult to translate the complicated emotions she'd been dealing with since they left Sunnydale into words. But then, without warning, they all came pouring out. "Things were rocky with Kennedy ever since Sunnydale was destroyed. Before then, with the First killing off all those girls, and me dealing with what I'd done...Kennedy was someone who didn't care. She still wanted me. And so I let her in. I didn't really realize what I was doing until we were looking down into that crater. Then I knew we'd gone too fast, and I started shutting her out. I never explained why, I just...gradually stopped letting her in. And I guess today, she gave up trying to break down the door." she shook her head and looked unhappily at Buffy. "Does that make me a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, Wil. You're being honest with yourself," said Buffy. "You're the kind of person who gets so wrapped up in trying to keep everyone else happy, sometimes you get left out. I think it's your turn, for a change."

"I didn't want to hurt her, it just wasn't working," Willow continued, in an almost pleading tone. "There was no music!"

"Music?" asked Buffy, confused.

"Yeah," said Willow, once again struggling to verbalize pure emotion. "When I was with Oz, he would play my song and then it was just the two of us, and that song contained everything that was him and told me in the chords how much he loved me. Tara...she had the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. Tara, her voice, her spirit—she lit up my world." She shut her eyes tight, and fresh tears squeezed out of the corners. Buffy took one of her hands in hers. Willow clasped it tightly back. She swallowed hard, and went on. "But with Kennedy, there was nothing. I think at first I needed that quiet, but then it started to take away everything that meant something."

"Wow," said Buffy.

"What?"

"Well," she hesitated, not sure what kind of reaction this would get. "I guess I just thought it was because of Oz."

"I think that's what Kennedy thought too," said Willow. She let out a sigh. "And that was part of it," she admitted. She paused, then looked up. "I need to show you something."

†

Palo Alto, California

"Now, students, if you could follow me right this way, we'll take a look inside the Green Library next."

"I read that there are somewhere around three million books here," said Isabelle as if that piece of information were a hugely important secret.

"This is the largest library on campus, and it contains nearly three million books," the tour guide continued.

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"You are such a dork," said Matthew. He and Isabelle promptly engaged in a poke war, which continued until the tour guide noticed and leveled them a threatening glare.

"I think you're both dorks," said Dawn.

"Wow!" gasped Isabelle, not even hearing the insult, for they had just entered a library of magnificent proportions. All three of them fell silent in awe, along with the rest of their classmates, and actually listened to the tour guide as he led them through the first few sections. But not even a library this vast could hold the attention of a class of seventeen-year-olds for long. Soon, to the tour guide's dismay, whispered conversation had broken out across the group once again.

"Hey, Dawn," breathed Matthew.

She looked at him and saw that his face had cracked into a mischievous grin. "What?" she asked a little warily.

"I dare you to skip out on the rest of the library tour."

"You dare me? What, are you five?" said Dawn, even as Isabelle's eyes widened predictably in alarm.

"So, does that mean you won't do it?" he asked tauntingly.

"No," said Dawn. "Because even a dare isn't as lame as this tour."

"But what if you get caught?" hissed Isabelle, seizing Dawn by the wrist. "You'll be in so much trouble!"

"Which is why it's fun," said Matthew, winking at Dawn and distracting Isabelle by taking her other hand in his.

"Relax, Iz, I am the master of sneaky." This was something of an understatement, considering Dawn's history as a chronic kleptomaniac, even if her thieving days were well behind her. She watched the tour guide carefully until he finished yet another long-winded rant about some historical aspect of the university and turned to lead the group on. Then, as Matthew and Isabelle pretended not to notice, she slipped silently down a narrow aisle between two towering bookshelves.

The sounds of her classmates' footsteps and the guide's voice faded into the background and Dawn walked slowly down the aisle, smirking. It had almost been too easy. The hard part, she knew, would be rejoining the group unnoticed, but she could worry about that later.

Dawn reflected dully that sneaking out of a tour group on a field trip to Stanford University was one of the most exciting things she'd done since her home of six and a half years was reduced to a large dent in the southern California landscape. And that night, just like the most of the last one hundred and eighty-two nights, she would get a call from Buffy, who would relate a thrilling tale of adventure before asking about Dawn's day.

At least once a week, Dawn would drop a hint about how much she would rather be in Cleveland with her sister, but these were always either ignored or shot down in some way by Buffy. It was around this place on her train of thought when Dawn realized that her feet had continued to carry her through the library until nothing around her looked familiar anymore. She let out an audible groan and banged her head against a bookshelf.

"Starting to freak out about finals, huh?" came a voice from a few feet away.

Dawn looked up and saw a tall boy with brown hair giving her a sympathetic look. Wow, he's cute, she thought. His blue eyes sparkled slightly with amusement, and it was a moment before Dawn remembered that he was still waiting for a response. She blushed. "Oh, heh, um, no. I don't actually go here," she said, deeply thankful that it had come out coherently. "I'm just on a field trip. I go to PALY." She gave the boy a slightly strained smile.

"Ah," he said, before smirking. "Let me guess. Friend dared you to give everyone the slip, and you ended up lost?"

"Pretty much," said Dawn sheepishly. "Did you really think I was a student here?" Score one for the Dawnmeister! Cute College Boy thought she looked old enough to be in college!

"You don't really have that wide-eyed look most high schoolers get when they come in here," he said, shrugging.

"Seen a lot of us come through?" she asked.

"Well, I'm just a freshman, but there have been lots of tour groups for the past couple of months. I'm Connor Reilly, by the way." He offered a hand, which she shook.

"Dawn Summers."

"So," he said. "Did you grow up around here?"

"No. This is my first year in Palo Alto. I lived in L.A. until I was ten, and then I moved to Sunnydale."

"That's the one that fell into a giant sinkhole, right?" asked Connor, looking impressed.

"Yup. Something like that," said Dawn.

"So, after that, you and your family moved here?"

"No. Just me. I was living with my big sister, but after we left Sunnydale, she had to go to Cleveland for college, and I'm staying with a friend so I can finish high school in California." It was, word-for-word, the same scripted cover story she had given Isabelle, Isabelle's parents, Matthew, all of her teachers, and anyone else who had asked. She fidgeted slightly. "I should probably get back to the rest of my group," she admitted with reluctance.

"Hmm," said Connor thoughtfully, "which tour guide did you get?"

"Comb-over Guy," said Dawn, making a face.

"You've got at least another half hour before he's done in this building, then." In a mock serious tone, he added, "In the meantime, would you like me to show you around, Miss Summers?"

"I would be honored," said Dawn, giggling a little.

†

"You still have these?" asked Buffy, amazed. She traced the patterns on the Tibetan cloth with her finger.

"Apparently they made it out of Sunnydale with me in the bag I packed with all the equipment for doing the spell," said Willow. "I don't even remember putting them in the bag. It's not like I knew I'd never see my bedroom again when I packed that thing, so I wasn't trying to save anything." Willow turned PEZ-witch over and over in her hands until the plastic was as warm as her skin.

"Yeah, well, I can relate," said Buffy. When Willow responded with a look of confusion, Buffy got off the bed and retrieved a small trunk from beneath hers, then returned with it. "And I seriously have no clue how a whole trunk of stuff got out of there with me, but I'm not about to look this gift horse in the mouth." She opened it. Within was a small array of items. On top were Mr. Gordo, Mr. Pointy, and two framed pictures: one of Buffy and Dawn with their mother and the other of Buffy, Willow, and Xander. The glass on the former had cracked, but the picture itself was still intact. Buffy got up to put the pictures on her lamp table before coming back to sit opposite Willow again. She put Mr. Gordo and Mr. Pointy next to her on the bed. Next, she lifted out a delicate golden parasol that had been carefully duct-taped back together, to reveal the remaining four objects in the chest. One by one, she took them out as well.

"Angel gave you those, didn't he?" asked Willow.

"Yeah," said Buffy with a small smile. She picked up the silver cross necklace. "He gave me this the first time we met, right after I'd knocked him to the ground." She laughed at the memory as she put the necklace on.

"You never told me that was how you met," said Willow, also laughing. "You just mentioned tall, dark, and gorgeous cryptic guy, and I got updates from there." She picked up the leather-bound copy of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese. "It's all dirty," she said, attempting to wipe off some of the dirt marring its cover.

"I kind of dropped it when fleeing for my life," said Buffy. Willow looked up, alarmed. "Remember when Giles got fired?"

"That was so unsettling," said Willow darkly. It was interesting that Giles ended up being the only Watcher to survive when the First decided to take them all out. It probably had a great deal to do with the fact that he went more by his heart than the rules.

"Yeah, well, after I was done being helpless girl, I came back for it. I couldn't get the mud off, though." Buffy flipped open the cover of the book and fingered the elegantly scripted word there.

"'Always,'" Willow read. "That's so romantic," she sighed. "Wow, It's been a long time since we did the girly sharing stories thing, huh?"

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Kinda fun, isn't it?" Willow nodded.

"And that's the jacket he gave you," she prompted. She felt a little better already.

"I haven't worn it in a long time," said Buffy, "I didn't want to ruin it on patrol, so it kinda became a permanent hanger fixture."

"And what's this?" asked Willow, picking up the small silver ring from the bedspread. She traced a finger along the crown, heart, and hands. "A Claddagh ring?"

"Seventeenth birthday present," said Buffy. "I haven't worn that in a long time either." She held out her hand, and Willow dropped the ring into it.

"What happened? I mean, when you first opened the trunk, how did you react?"

Buffy thought back. She had opened it the day after her dream, or whatever it had been, about the Slayers before her. "I cried," she admitted. "I hadn't really thought about the stuff I had in Sunnydale or cared that it was gone, but none of this is just stuff. I mean, I have a picture of Mom. I thought everything of her was gone, but now I have that. That's why the glass is broken. I kinda squeezed it really tight, and it cracked. I copied it and sent one to Dawn with her present for her birthday."

She ran her hands over the rest of the things still spread across the bed. "I think these are all kind of like my 'music'. My connections to people and memories."

Willow nodded.

"Mr. Gordo is my childhood, Mr. Pointy is being the Slayer, the pictures are my family and friends, the parasol is the people I didn't even know who thought I made a difference, and everything Angel gave me...well, kind of obvious." She smiled again.

Willow looked back down at PEZ-witch and the Tibetan cloth next to her, marveling at how similar things were for the two of them. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Buffy honestly. "The plan was kinda to get rid of this Hellmouth and figure everything else out later."

"Yeah," said Willow.

†

Dawn slipped back amongst the group just as they were about to leave the library. Isabelle looked intensely relieved that she was back.

"So, what have you been up to?" asked Matthew. With a grin of triumph, Dawn held up an index card. Isabelle seized it.

"'Connor Reilly, 555-8372'... This is a college guy's number! Dawn! You got a college guy's number!" she said, almost forgetting to keep her voice down. "You didn't give him my home number, did you?" she added, horrified.

"No," said Dawn hastily. "My cell." She had not wanted to incur the wrath of Mrs. Quinn by risking Connor calling that number, for Isabelle's mother firmly believed that, as far as her youngest daughter and her friends were concerned, college boys were the devil incarnate.

"The motto of Stanford," came the rather indignant voice of the tour guide, and they turned to give him a few seconds of their attention, "is 'Die Luft der Freiheit Weht', or in English, 'the wind of freedom blows.'"

"Riveting," muttered Matthew.

†

There was a knock at the door, and Buffy got up to answer it. Willow hastily shoved her things back under her pillow.

"Hey," said Xander. "Another new arrival. Faith and Wood sent her."

"Okay," said Buffy, "Wanna come, Wil?" Willow got off the bed and followed them both out.

"Where's she from?" asked Buffy.

"Scotland!" said Xander enthusiastically, attempting and failing the accent. "The land of kilts and haggus!"

"Nifty," said Willow. Xander led them the rest of the way down to the basement, where Alex, who had finished with her classes for the day, was sparring with the new girl. A short distance away, Giles was observing, pleased with how well the girl had been trained already. She was about Buffy's height, had dark skin and curly dark brown hair and, like Alex, was one of the few new Slayers who was nearly out of her teens. Upon catching sight of Buffy, Xander, and Willow, she and Alex halted, mid-fight, just as she deflected a roundhouse kick from Alex. Buffy smiled approvingly at her.

"Buffy Summers," she said respectfully, "I'm Renée Blackwood." Her r's rolled out rich and thick with her accent. She and Buffy shook hands.

"Xander said Faith sent you?" asked Willow.

"I wanted to come, but essentially, yes," Renée corrected with a smile.

"So, what's going on with Faith?" asked Buffy.

"She and Wood have been all through the British Isles, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Switzerland, and Germany," Renée rattled off. "They've got just over a hundred Slayers in tow now."

"So it wasn't just an Andrew fluke," Xander observed.

"He's the one searching on this continent, right?" asked Renée. They nodded. "Well, Faith and Wood split up to cover more ground. We all met back up in Munich last month to get more organized. I was the first one Faith found, so she reckoned that by now I had enough experience to come to the Hellmouth. Everyone else is breaking off in groups of ten and going to different countries. Wood estimated they'd have covered all of Europe within six more months, and then they'll meet back in Munich to set up the searches of Africa and Asia."

"Did they give you any way of contacting them?" asked Giles. "It would be excellent if we could check in with them periodically to get updates."

"Certainly," said Renée, digging in her pocket and procuring a slip of paper, which she passed to Giles.

"Thank you."

"Looks like we really put the search in good hands," said Willow. Buffy nodded fervently. Now that she knew how well both Andrew and Faith were doing, she felt as if yet another part of the weight on her shoulders was lifted.

"Right, so, Alex and Mr. Giles here were telling me about how you lot do patrolling?" Renée prompted tentatively.

"Oh," said Buffy, "yeah, so they told you all about the squads and rotating routes and stuff?"

Renée nodded.

"Okay, well, actually, you can join right up with Alex's squad."

"That sounds good," said Renée, smiling at Alex.

"Hey, wait, what do you mean my squad?" asked Alex, returning Renée's smile but looking confused.

"Kennedy left to help Andrew, so you're squad leader now," Buffy explained.

"What?" said Xander and Alex in unison, while Giles looked surprised and Renée, perplexed.

"She left around noon today," said Willow evenly.

"Being squad leader won't be a problem for you, will it?" Buffy asked Alex before Xander could get out the question he had just opened his mouth to ask.

"Me?" asked Alex, alarmed at the prospect of leadership. "It might take some getting used to, but I think it'll be okay."

"Good," said Buffy. Then she smirked at Renée. "Mind if I take over for Alex now and see what Faith taught you?"

Renée chuckled but seemed slightly embarrassed. "Faith said you'd ask me that."

†

Hours later, Buffy and her squad set off along their designated patrol route, which, tonight, was Lakewood.

"Are you sure you can move in that?" Kat teased. Buffy, being from California, was still not quite accustomed to the far colder Ohio weather, and had bundled up in a thick sweater as well as a heavy coat. Noëlle and Kat were both from places as cold or colder than Cleveland, and were content in sweatshirts. Clare was somewhere in the middle, wearing a sweater and jacket.

"I could still beat you up wearing this," Buffy threatened jokingly, her eyebrows raised.

"That's all I was wondering," said Kat.

"You're still mocking," Buffy pointed out.

"I'm good now."

"La ferme!" said Noëlle suddenly, tugging them both off the sidewalk and out of the glow of the street light.

"You meant 'shut up', right?" whispered Clare, who had recently developed an unexplainable fetish for watching TV in French. In response, Noëlle glared pointedly at her. She grinned sheepishly and looked with her fellows towards the baseball diamond in Kauffman Park.

"I don't like this," said Buffy quietly. It was nearly midnight, but that clearly hadn't been enough to thwart a group of small neighborhood boys in their desire to play baseball. The four Slayers crept as stealthily as possible around the back of the park so they could approach the boys without getting caught in the field's glaring floodlights. They peered at them through the chain link fence behind the home team's dugout.

"They're human," said Clare. Two of the boys had gotten into a tussle at home plate over whether one had been out or safe, and the others were laughing.

"I know," said Buffy, "I've just got a—"

"Bad feeling," finished Kat. They looked around, but couldn't see anything in the shadows. They had run out of Willow's night vision powder on the last patrol, and none of them had remembered to restock. But it suddenly wasn't necessary. Across from them, next to the visitors' dugout, three figures leapt down from the ten foot high fence and into the light, which revealed the demonic features of vampires. The one in the center was a petite woman with hair even redder than Willow's, cropped short and spiked out in every direction. On her left was a man with long black hair that was half pulled back, half partially obscuring his face, and on her right was another man with shoulder length auburn hair. The boys, still arguing about the call in the game, hadn't noticed them.

"RUN!" Buffy and Kat shouted at them in unison, as they and their other two companions hurtled up over the fence and jumped down to the other side onto the field. The boys all stopped what they were doing to stare at these four strange girls, but then turned and saw what was coming from the other direction. Several of them screamed, but they all at least had the sense to run. To each Slayer's relief, the vampires did not follow.

"Aw, Nyx, they scared off our dinner," said the black-haired one.

"As Slayers are wont to do," replied the woman. Her face shifted back to human features, and she looked rather beautiful. Her expression was haughty and disdainful as her now blue eyes roved across the group of Slayers.

"How long has it been?" asked the third, licking his lips.

"Twenty years, Livius," replied Nyx, whose eyes had locked with Buffy's.

"So, it's time?" asked the black-haired one hungrily.

"Yes, Erebus, it's time. We won't need to wait so long until the next time anymore," said Nyx.

"World's overrun with them," agreed Livius in disgust.

"What's with these guys?" asked Clare uneasily.

"Yeah, and their stupid names," sneered Kat.

"I don't know," said Buffy. Where had she seen Nyx before? Before she could figure it out, though, she had stepped forward.

"I go on holiday for a year and I get back to find my town swarming with Slayers," she said, sighing in irritation.

"This isn't your town anymore," said Buffy through clenched teeth.

"You're the one from Sunnydale, aren't you?" Nyx replied with narrowed eyes.

Buffy gave a short, humorless chuckle. "Another one who's heard of me. Much more of this, and my head will start to swell."

"That's a pretty toy you've got," said Livius, eying the Scythe covetously.

"Come and get it," Buffy challenged.

"My pleasure," he said. In the time it took Buffy to move toward him one step, he had already closed the rest of the distance. His fist shot through the air straight for her face. Barely in time, she raised an arm and deflected it to the side. To her left, Noëlle had started to fight Nyx, and on her right, Kat and Clare had gone for Erebus.

Buffy had not felt this overwhelmed in a fight since going up against the first of the Turok-Han. Instead of being able to quickly take a strong offensive, she was forced to block blow after blow. Livius was not as strong as that übervamp had been, but he was smarter. His attacks were calculated, precise. The Scythe's song seemed as angry and frustrated as its wielder when it whirled through the air but failed to make contact with the target again and again. Buffy jumped out of range as a powerful kick was aimed at her midriff, and she heard the chain fence clinking as she backed into it.

"Gotcha," he said with a wicked grin.

Noëlle threw a hard punch at Nyx, clocking her squarely on the chin. Her head went backwards and she staggered, before recovering and glaring daggers at Noëlle, but the French Slayer didn't pause in her attack. Nyx fell to the ground at the force of Noëlle's kick, and held up her arms to shield herself as the blows kept coming.

Erebus fought like nothing either Kat or Clare had ever faced. He didn't seem to care how many times they hit him; as soon as one of them came near enough to get a punch or kick in, he would latch onto her and start pummeling with whatever limbs remained unoccupied, until her companion would catch him from the other side, and his focus would shift to the other one instead.

Buffy's face slammed into the fence, making it clink loudly again; Livius had managed to grab her by the hair. He jerked her back to throw her against the fence again, but she was finally close enough to retaliate before he could dodge. Her elbow slammed into his jaw, and she heard the bone crack as he released her hair and crumpled backward. She bent down and seized him by the front of his shirt, then threw him into the pole of the floodlight beside her.

Before she could get the Scythe in for the finishing blow, he had kicked out and knocked her feet out from under her. She crashed to the ground and tasted blood as her teeth cut into her bottom lip, and the Scythe flew out of her grasp. He caught it up and raised it to use against her, but while his arms were still high, Buffy slipped Mr. Pointy from its hiding place up her coat's sleeve down into her hand and plunged it straight through his heart. She caught the Scythe deftly in her other hand as it fell with the vampire's ashes.

While Buffy was still in the middle of her fight, Kat and Clare had taken quite a beating from Erebus, who was still showing no signs of weariness or pain for all the wounds they had inflicted on him. After Kat landed particularly a forceful kick in his ribs, he grabbed her by the leg and threw her, so that she landed a few yards away in a heap on the ground, dazed. When Clare moved in to take over, he pinned her arms to her sides and sank his fangs into her neck, drinking deeply and hungrily. Clare screamed in pain and terror, but Buffy went slamming into Erebus, knocking him away from her before she had used up an entire lungful of air in her scream. Erebus went sprawling. Clare's blood covered the lower half of his face. He growled fiercely at them, but was not stupid enough to take them on again, especially as Kat had gotten back to her feet.

"Okay, you know what, sweetie?" said Nyx, leaping back to her feet. She had spent the better part of the others' fights barely avoiding the worst of Noëlle's attacks. "I'm done pretending you're going to win this fight."

"Who's pretending?" asked Noëlle, driving her stake straight for Nyx's chest, but it didn't get there. She had caught Noëlle's wrist when the stake was a mere millimeter from the fabric of her shirt, and the mask of worry on her face abruptly lifted as her expression became a sadistic grin. She twisted her arm around so that Noëlle was spun until the arm was coiled behind her between herself and Nyx. Noëlle struggled with all her might, but couldn't free herself.

Buffy turned her threatening gaze from the retreating Erebus to where Noëlle had been fighting Nyx in time to see both of them facing her. Her squad member's eyes were wide with terror, staring straight at her in a silent plea. Nyx's eyes gleamed with the same haughty expression she had worn before as she raised her hands to the sides of Noëlle's face and gave a sharp jerk. The snap rang out across the park.

Let me begin today's post-episode writer's commentary with an evil cackle. Muah-ah-ah-ahh! Now then, stuff from the episode, of which there was a lot. Finally, a Willow/Oz conversation that isn't twitchingly awkward or too short to really do anything for us. As to the names of the Illogical Stop Sign albums, I just like those words, and as far as I know, they aren't somebody else's albums in the real world. Kennedy's heated departure. I wrote that scene before anything else I wrote in this whole fanfic. You can imagine my desperate impatience to use it. I am very proud of myself for holding off until this far into the season. Again, I'm going for how the show actually works, rather than pure gratification. Anyway, why did I choose to send her off like this? Simple. Kennedy is a brat. A self-proclaimed brat, I might add. When brats fail to get what they want, they throw tantrums and, in this case, fly out of the country in a whirl of angst. Willow's conversation with Buffy. That was difficult to write, though I love the result. Her need for music in a relationship. That, seriously, is what I never understood about Willow/Kennedy. No music. Buffy's mysterious trunk of every significant object she ever owned. Heh, yeah, the existence of that thing can't be logically explained at all, but it needed to be there. You might (if you have a freakishly acute memory) remember that I mentioned it way back in "Miles to Go", but that hardly makes it more plausible. Also, you might be surprised to read that I actually wanted it there more for the picture containing Joyce than for the stuff Angel gave Buffy. The idea that Buffy and Dawn have no pictures of their mother is just too sad to think about. Dawn meeting Connor. Hahaaaa... Okay, those of you who have really freakishly acute memories will possibly have noticed, from "Origin", that Connor said he was attending Stanford. Those of you who are also ridiculously geographically enlightened, or perhaps simply from that part of California, will also know that Palo Alto is, in fact, where Stanford is located. I did that very deliberately. Renée. Yes, this is the Renée from the comic. Well, sort of, anyway. I somehow misunderstood from when I read those issues of the comic that she was Scottish, when she was actually more likely Native American or something. Oh well. Nyx and her cronies. Well, we haven't seen the last of them. Which I think looks obvious at this point. Finally, goodbye Noëlle, I'm sorry I killed you off horribly. The random lines of French I rarely bothered to translate for the readers were amusing to stick in. Adieu (which, incidentally, literally means "to God").