She glided through the headstones of the cemetery with the speed and skills of the slayer. She kept her eyes and ears focused for the slightest shift in the serene atmosphere. The moon was floating high above her head glowing brightly against the black blanket of the night, opting for high visibility. Seeing mild movement about a hundred feet away she quickly sprang into action, running at full steam toward it. The vamp had heard her a split second before she crashed into his back. He snarled and flipped her over his shoulders, slamming her into the grass. She gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of her but managed to deliver a kick to his forehead. Flipping up to her feet she roundhouse kicked him across the face, simultaneously spinning and knocking his legs out from under him. She pulled the stake from her belt and swiftly rammed it into his chest. The vampire cursed loudly before it turned to dust.
"Nice moves," he said appearing from behind a mausoleum. "Although next time you might want beat him a little less before you stake him."
She whirled around to the face him, the anger flashing in her eyes.
"Would you quit sneaking up on me like that?" She yelled. "God, one of these days you're going to get your head cut off, or at least a couple of teeth knocked out."
He grimaced slightly. "Thanks for the visual."
"Yeah, well," she muttered rolling her eyes and leaning against a tombstone. "What are you doing here anyway? You're supposed to be down the street."
"I was. Staked a pair of vamps doing unmentionable things to each other. I thought we should pair back up before we hit Restfield, it's pretty big."
She seemed to think it over for minute before nodding. "Just don't get in my way," she said.
"Fair enough."
They walked side by side as they left the cemetery. She kept her eyes and ears focused for any sounds or sights out of the ordinary. He walked quietly next to her; every now and then looking at her strangely, like he was going to say something but thought the better of it. She easily ignored it at first, but after five minutes she began to get a little impatient with whatever he was trying to say. He did it a few more times before she snapped.
"What's the deal Harris?" She barked. "You've been looking at me like I'm about to sprout a horn in the middle of my forehead all day."
"What?" He replied surprised by her sudden outburst. "Oh, nothing." A pause. "That was a joke right?"
"Sarcasm," she said lightly. "Jeez, if you're going to be this weird all-night you should go home."
"I'm not acting that weird," he said defensively.
She looked at him and rolled her eyes again. Another thing she found she couldn't help doing in his presence. She was afraid she'd go cross-eyes if she kept doing it.
"On a scale of one to ten, I'd say you're at a fifty right now."
He opened his mouth to explain but found that, yet again, he couldn't. What would he have said? That he was acting weird because he was trying to be nice to her on the advice of the dream version of his dead girlfriend. That he knows she has her issues and that he was going to try to be more understanding about them rather than to keep matching her in attitude. He sighed. Even if he did manage to explain he doubted that it would get through to her. She'd probably tell him she didn't need to be babied and as far as her issues went he could mind his own business.
"Forget it," he mumbled.
"Forgotten," she retorted.
As they approached the gates of the Restfield Cemetery they looked at each other wearily. This particular graveyard was filled with lush trees, just small enough to where anything could be hidden between them in the dark, and not have the slightest chance of being seen. Buffy indicated silently with her hands that they should split up and circle the biggest grouping of trees covering the tombstones first. Buffy went left, and Xander right. She crouched low, looking for the legs of anything possibly hiding inside. Xander moved slowly with his eyes closed, listening for the slightest shift in the quiet. He stopped dead when he heard a mild rustle and opened his eyes just in time to be tackled to the ground by a snarling lady vampire. Her fangs flashed in the form of a cruel smile and her feral yellow eyes glowed brightly.
"Don't you know it's dangerous to be walking in a graveyard so late at night all by yourself?" She asked as if she were talking to a small child. She ran her hand along his chest lightly and he thought he saw a tattoo on the inside of her arm. He made a small note of it.
"You're cute though;" she said eyeing him up and down.
He laughed humorlessly and kneed her in the gut before grabbing her shoulders and flipping her off of him. She growled viciously as she hit the ground and he smiled to himself. The one true advantage he possessed over the forces of darkness was that they were constantly underestimating him. She jumped to her feet quickly and kept a hand on the spot where his knee had struck.
"You'll pay for that," she seethed.
"Promises, promises," he deadpanned.
"You're a fool mortal. To be out here all alone."
He saw a flash of something behind him out of the corner of his eye and he knew that it was Buffy.
"Who said I was alone?"
He dropped to the ground as Buffy launched a flying kick over him. Her foot connected squarely with the vamp's jaw and sent her sprawling back on the grass. Xander hopped back to his feet as Buffy stood in a fighting stance waiting for the next move.
"Slayer," it hissed. "You will pay for this interruption."
Buffy suddenly dropped her hands and hesitantly stepped back. Xander looked on worriedly. He'd never seen any other expression on her face beside a scowl or stony determination. Right now she almost looked afraid.
"T-Theresa," she stuttered. "I thought I recognized that bad hair do."
"The master will be so pleased I found you," Theresa chuckled with an evil grin.
"Master?" Xander questioned.
"Not now," Buffy spit in his direction, never taking her eyes off of her enemy.
"An old friend," Theresa answered. "One that I know would love to meet you as well. Slayers pet and all."
"He's not going to get the chance," Buffy growled jumping to attack.
Theresa sidestepped and kicked Buffy in the stomach and spun to strike her in the back. Buffy fell to the ground but managed to kick Theresa's legs out from under her. They both got to their feet at the same time and Buffy launched into another flying kick, but her enemy was dust before she make contact. She landed on her ass with an audible thump and swore loudly. She turned to see Xander standing with a mini-crossbow in his hands smiling triumphantly. Buffy shot to her feet, marched over to him and slapped the weapon out of his hands.
"Why the hell did you do that?" She screamed. "That was my fight!"
He stared at her in confusion for a moment at her lack of gratitude and picked up the crossbow. He swallowed back his own anger at her.
"I thought I was helping," he said.
"I don't need your help," she spat.
"Oh right," he shot back unable to keep his anger down. "You looked like a lost little puppy when you realized you knew who she was. I've never seen you act anything but tough and this gal had you *scared. *
"She did not."
"Bullshit," he retorted. "She had you shaking and I want to know why."
He could see she was getting madder at him by the minute, but could tell that there was something inside of her beginning to unravel. Something she didn't want him to see.
"It's none of your business," she said shortly.
"It is when an 'old friend' of yours tries to kill me. It is when she talked about a 'master.' We already had a master around here Buffy and believe me when I say you didn't want to know him."
"He's not thee master," she said. "Just her master."
"Who is he?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Don't tell me not to worry about it damn it!" He yelled. "What is it? What are you not telling me?"
He was livid. He could feel his pulse racing through every part of his body. His fists clenched and he dug his fingernails into his palms hard enough the draw blood. He set his face in a stone glare. He mentally apologized to Faith for ignoring her advice but he was beyond it now. He could see her anger fading, being replaced with something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Like you're one to talk," she said weakly. "What are you hiding yourself Xander? Why are those scars there? Why'd you want to hurt yourself like that? Why do you fight this shitty little battle huh? What are you not telling me?"
"Don't try to change the subject," he growled. "This is so not about me."
He could see her anger fade even more, see her resolve weakening and knew he almost had her.
"Who is it?" He asked gently. "Who's got you freaked out so badly?"
She looked away from him wiping at her eyes and breathing heavily. When she looked back she wasn't scowling for once, or glaring, or frowning. She just looked tired.
"I..."
"You can tell me."
"I can't," she said softly. "I just can't..."
He wanted to yell at her again. Wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her talk. He didn't dare touch her though, he knew that she would beat the hell out of him if he tried. He ran a hand through his hair and willed himself to calm down again.
"Buffy," he said gently. "I know you're tough. You don't have to prove that to me. But you can't keep everything you're feeling all bottled up inside. It'll just eat away at your insides until there's nothing left..."
He trailed off a second, his own words striking a familiar chord in him.
"You won't even be able to look at yourself in the mirror anymore."
She didn't respond right away, just stood there with her arms wrapped around herself. He hoped he was getting through to her. He hoped she'd give him something to respond to. She didn't.
"How do you do it?" She asked. "I mean you... You seem to have your own set of miseries Xander. The kind that you keep all bottled up inside, so I have to know. How do you look in the mirror?"
He shook his head. He should have known not to get his hopes up.
"I don't," he said smiling sadly at her.
***
"So how did the slaying go last night?" Willow asked.
"Well, aside from my knock down, drag out fight with Buffy and her freak out over that Theresa girl it was pretty uneventful. Well, other than that I got two vamps going at it on top of a crypt."
Willow laughed and took a sip of her soda. "Hey, remember that time Giles caught you and Faith in the cemetery..."
Xander shot an embarrassed glare at her and she quickly looked at her feet.
"Shutting up now," she mumbled.
"Is this the symbol you saw?" Giles asked putting a picture of the tattoo he'd seen on Theresa's arm in front of him. It was an exact match of the square with rounded ends and two triangles standing point to point inside of it.
"That's it," he replied.
"It's a marking of the Tribe of Cantor," Giles said lifting the book away from Xander as he read. "An old sect of vampires that originated during the Crusades. Very powerful and only the worst of vampires is allowed member ship. It's odd though, there isn't that much activity from them on this continent. "
"Ah, so it was the sense of power that freaked her out maybe?" Xander began. "No, that's not it. Wait a minute. Theresa was taunting her about an old friend. She probably had a run in them before..."
"And they killed her watcher and she ran to the hellmouth like Faith did?" Willow said. "What is it with slayers ending up here on the run from some big nasty right on their tales?"
Both Giles and Xander turned to glare at her and she looked down her feet for the second time.
"Shutting up again."
"Charles Merrick was killed in a car accident, not by vampires," Giles corrected.
"Kind of a boring way for a watcher to go," Xander said.
"Oh my," Giles said reading more from the book. "If she did have a former encounter with them I would certainly understand why she would be frightened."
"Why?" Xander asked. "What's so bad about them?"
"I would say that the fact that their leader is responsible for atrocities that make Angelus look like an amateur is a good place to start."
"Okay not liking where this is going," Willow threw in.
"Who's the leader?" Xander inquired.
"Lothos."
"Nice moves," he said appearing from behind a mausoleum. "Although next time you might want beat him a little less before you stake him."
She whirled around to the face him, the anger flashing in her eyes.
"Would you quit sneaking up on me like that?" She yelled. "God, one of these days you're going to get your head cut off, or at least a couple of teeth knocked out."
He grimaced slightly. "Thanks for the visual."
"Yeah, well," she muttered rolling her eyes and leaning against a tombstone. "What are you doing here anyway? You're supposed to be down the street."
"I was. Staked a pair of vamps doing unmentionable things to each other. I thought we should pair back up before we hit Restfield, it's pretty big."
She seemed to think it over for minute before nodding. "Just don't get in my way," she said.
"Fair enough."
They walked side by side as they left the cemetery. She kept her eyes and ears focused for any sounds or sights out of the ordinary. He walked quietly next to her; every now and then looking at her strangely, like he was going to say something but thought the better of it. She easily ignored it at first, but after five minutes she began to get a little impatient with whatever he was trying to say. He did it a few more times before she snapped.
"What's the deal Harris?" She barked. "You've been looking at me like I'm about to sprout a horn in the middle of my forehead all day."
"What?" He replied surprised by her sudden outburst. "Oh, nothing." A pause. "That was a joke right?"
"Sarcasm," she said lightly. "Jeez, if you're going to be this weird all-night you should go home."
"I'm not acting that weird," he said defensively.
She looked at him and rolled her eyes again. Another thing she found she couldn't help doing in his presence. She was afraid she'd go cross-eyes if she kept doing it.
"On a scale of one to ten, I'd say you're at a fifty right now."
He opened his mouth to explain but found that, yet again, he couldn't. What would he have said? That he was acting weird because he was trying to be nice to her on the advice of the dream version of his dead girlfriend. That he knows she has her issues and that he was going to try to be more understanding about them rather than to keep matching her in attitude. He sighed. Even if he did manage to explain he doubted that it would get through to her. She'd probably tell him she didn't need to be babied and as far as her issues went he could mind his own business.
"Forget it," he mumbled.
"Forgotten," she retorted.
As they approached the gates of the Restfield Cemetery they looked at each other wearily. This particular graveyard was filled with lush trees, just small enough to where anything could be hidden between them in the dark, and not have the slightest chance of being seen. Buffy indicated silently with her hands that they should split up and circle the biggest grouping of trees covering the tombstones first. Buffy went left, and Xander right. She crouched low, looking for the legs of anything possibly hiding inside. Xander moved slowly with his eyes closed, listening for the slightest shift in the quiet. He stopped dead when he heard a mild rustle and opened his eyes just in time to be tackled to the ground by a snarling lady vampire. Her fangs flashed in the form of a cruel smile and her feral yellow eyes glowed brightly.
"Don't you know it's dangerous to be walking in a graveyard so late at night all by yourself?" She asked as if she were talking to a small child. She ran her hand along his chest lightly and he thought he saw a tattoo on the inside of her arm. He made a small note of it.
"You're cute though;" she said eyeing him up and down.
He laughed humorlessly and kneed her in the gut before grabbing her shoulders and flipping her off of him. She growled viciously as she hit the ground and he smiled to himself. The one true advantage he possessed over the forces of darkness was that they were constantly underestimating him. She jumped to her feet quickly and kept a hand on the spot where his knee had struck.
"You'll pay for that," she seethed.
"Promises, promises," he deadpanned.
"You're a fool mortal. To be out here all alone."
He saw a flash of something behind him out of the corner of his eye and he knew that it was Buffy.
"Who said I was alone?"
He dropped to the ground as Buffy launched a flying kick over him. Her foot connected squarely with the vamp's jaw and sent her sprawling back on the grass. Xander hopped back to his feet as Buffy stood in a fighting stance waiting for the next move.
"Slayer," it hissed. "You will pay for this interruption."
Buffy suddenly dropped her hands and hesitantly stepped back. Xander looked on worriedly. He'd never seen any other expression on her face beside a scowl or stony determination. Right now she almost looked afraid.
"T-Theresa," she stuttered. "I thought I recognized that bad hair do."
"The master will be so pleased I found you," Theresa chuckled with an evil grin.
"Master?" Xander questioned.
"Not now," Buffy spit in his direction, never taking her eyes off of her enemy.
"An old friend," Theresa answered. "One that I know would love to meet you as well. Slayers pet and all."
"He's not going to get the chance," Buffy growled jumping to attack.
Theresa sidestepped and kicked Buffy in the stomach and spun to strike her in the back. Buffy fell to the ground but managed to kick Theresa's legs out from under her. They both got to their feet at the same time and Buffy launched into another flying kick, but her enemy was dust before she make contact. She landed on her ass with an audible thump and swore loudly. She turned to see Xander standing with a mini-crossbow in his hands smiling triumphantly. Buffy shot to her feet, marched over to him and slapped the weapon out of his hands.
"Why the hell did you do that?" She screamed. "That was my fight!"
He stared at her in confusion for a moment at her lack of gratitude and picked up the crossbow. He swallowed back his own anger at her.
"I thought I was helping," he said.
"I don't need your help," she spat.
"Oh right," he shot back unable to keep his anger down. "You looked like a lost little puppy when you realized you knew who she was. I've never seen you act anything but tough and this gal had you *scared. *
"She did not."
"Bullshit," he retorted. "She had you shaking and I want to know why."
He could see she was getting madder at him by the minute, but could tell that there was something inside of her beginning to unravel. Something she didn't want him to see.
"It's none of your business," she said shortly.
"It is when an 'old friend' of yours tries to kill me. It is when she talked about a 'master.' We already had a master around here Buffy and believe me when I say you didn't want to know him."
"He's not thee master," she said. "Just her master."
"Who is he?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Don't tell me not to worry about it damn it!" He yelled. "What is it? What are you not telling me?"
He was livid. He could feel his pulse racing through every part of his body. His fists clenched and he dug his fingernails into his palms hard enough the draw blood. He set his face in a stone glare. He mentally apologized to Faith for ignoring her advice but he was beyond it now. He could see her anger fading, being replaced with something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Like you're one to talk," she said weakly. "What are you hiding yourself Xander? Why are those scars there? Why'd you want to hurt yourself like that? Why do you fight this shitty little battle huh? What are you not telling me?"
"Don't try to change the subject," he growled. "This is so not about me."
He could see her anger fade even more, see her resolve weakening and knew he almost had her.
"Who is it?" He asked gently. "Who's got you freaked out so badly?"
She looked away from him wiping at her eyes and breathing heavily. When she looked back she wasn't scowling for once, or glaring, or frowning. She just looked tired.
"I..."
"You can tell me."
"I can't," she said softly. "I just can't..."
He wanted to yell at her again. Wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her talk. He didn't dare touch her though, he knew that she would beat the hell out of him if he tried. He ran a hand through his hair and willed himself to calm down again.
"Buffy," he said gently. "I know you're tough. You don't have to prove that to me. But you can't keep everything you're feeling all bottled up inside. It'll just eat away at your insides until there's nothing left..."
He trailed off a second, his own words striking a familiar chord in him.
"You won't even be able to look at yourself in the mirror anymore."
She didn't respond right away, just stood there with her arms wrapped around herself. He hoped he was getting through to her. He hoped she'd give him something to respond to. She didn't.
"How do you do it?" She asked. "I mean you... You seem to have your own set of miseries Xander. The kind that you keep all bottled up inside, so I have to know. How do you look in the mirror?"
He shook his head. He should have known not to get his hopes up.
"I don't," he said smiling sadly at her.
***
"So how did the slaying go last night?" Willow asked.
"Well, aside from my knock down, drag out fight with Buffy and her freak out over that Theresa girl it was pretty uneventful. Well, other than that I got two vamps going at it on top of a crypt."
Willow laughed and took a sip of her soda. "Hey, remember that time Giles caught you and Faith in the cemetery..."
Xander shot an embarrassed glare at her and she quickly looked at her feet.
"Shutting up now," she mumbled.
"Is this the symbol you saw?" Giles asked putting a picture of the tattoo he'd seen on Theresa's arm in front of him. It was an exact match of the square with rounded ends and two triangles standing point to point inside of it.
"That's it," he replied.
"It's a marking of the Tribe of Cantor," Giles said lifting the book away from Xander as he read. "An old sect of vampires that originated during the Crusades. Very powerful and only the worst of vampires is allowed member ship. It's odd though, there isn't that much activity from them on this continent. "
"Ah, so it was the sense of power that freaked her out maybe?" Xander began. "No, that's not it. Wait a minute. Theresa was taunting her about an old friend. She probably had a run in them before..."
"And they killed her watcher and she ran to the hellmouth like Faith did?" Willow said. "What is it with slayers ending up here on the run from some big nasty right on their tales?"
Both Giles and Xander turned to glare at her and she looked down her feet for the second time.
"Shutting up again."
"Charles Merrick was killed in a car accident, not by vampires," Giles corrected.
"Kind of a boring way for a watcher to go," Xander said.
"Oh my," Giles said reading more from the book. "If she did have a former encounter with them I would certainly understand why she would be frightened."
"Why?" Xander asked. "What's so bad about them?"
"I would say that the fact that their leader is responsible for atrocities that make Angelus look like an amateur is a good place to start."
"Okay not liking where this is going," Willow threw in.
"Who's the leader?" Xander inquired.
"Lothos."
