Thousand apologies for not having this up sooner. Got caught up doing essays. At the last minute of course. Anyhoo, here it is.

The Graveyard Hustle

There was no moonlight, only the phantom flickering of stars to light their way. The cemetery was bathed in blackness, with eerie shards of bone-white reflecting off the corners of tombstones. The lack of light certainly would have proved difficult for an average person, but the combination of Elf, vampire, Ranger and Slayer found the dark to be a challenge rather than a nuisance.

"What's the plan?" Spike's baritone voice broke the hushed calm of the cemetery.

Buffy held Mr. Pointy slackly in her right hand, but her eyes were wide and alert. "Split up. We'll form a perimeter. If anyone finds anything, shout."

As Buffy and Spike made for two different sets of bushes, Aragorn approached Legolas from behind. The Elf was concentrating; on what, the Ranger could not tell. "What do you see?"

Legolas continued his focused stare. "It is not what I see. It is what I smell." He said quietly.

Aragorn slowly began to unsheathe his sword, attempting to keep the metal from ringing. "Orc?" He whispered.

Legolas gave one nod of his head.

"How near?"

The Elf's eyes narrowed. "Close. They are all around us."

Spike had taken to the northwest corner of the graveyard, where the neglected shrubs ran high and unruly. It was only when he came to his place of cover that he realized he alone was unarmed. Muttering a swear under his breath, he paused and briefly entertained the thought of returning to his crypt and snagging himself some sort of pointy object. He looked back and saw the man with his sword out and ready, and the Elf with his bow drawn and an arrow notched. 'Bah!' He thought. He could take his enemies with his bare hands. He was about to creep under the bushes when preternatural instincts bade him not to. He glanced back at the two, who looked ready for imminent battle, but when he looked around with his heightened eyesight, he found no trace of any enemy. Despite this, he felt the familiar tingling throughout his body that forewarned of danger.

He snorted, and immediately wrinkled his nose. What was that? The most foul and decayed stench filled his nostrils. He searched for the source of it, and pin-pointed the offending odour to his original hiding spot. Pushing the bushes apart with his hands, it didn't take long for the vampire to locate the source.

"Oh there you are." Spike whispered. He had found Ugly Guts; how the orc managed to get out there was a different matter though. Spike crouched beside the body and poked it for good measure. Judging by the lack of reflex and decomposing smell, Spike was fairly certain the beast was still as dead as it was when they first dragged it back to the crypt.

"Hey Buffy!" Spike announced to the world. "I think I found our-" It was all he managed to get out before something popped out of the bushes and drove right into him, knocking him flat on his back. Landing with a grunt, the surprised vampire lay for a moment, gathering his wits. But looking up at his attacker, Spike immediately started fighting to get to his feet.

A screeching orc with amber eyes was sitting on his chest, pinning him down with his armored weight. Spike struggled to free his arms that were trapped underneath the creature's knees, but found them immobilized. The orc raised a curved and wicked looking knife, grinning wildly as he brought it up with both hands above its head, readying for the death blow.

Spike drew his knees up, ramming them into the orc's back, effectively knocking it off balance. Using the orc's momentum for his own benefit, Spike rolled in the same direction the orc was falling to, smoothly jumping to his feet while the orc struggled to its knees. Not missing his golden opportunity, Spike nailed the creature with a vicious kick to its stomach, dropping the orc who yelped in pain.

Spike was about to strike again when the orc glared up at him and howled. Spike paused with revulsion. "Ugly little son of a bitch, aren't you?"

The thought that perhaps she should help Spike briefly fluttered through Buffy's mind, but it left just as soon as it arrived. Her attuned hearing honed in on the slight rustling from the bushes behind her, but instead of blindly pouncing, the Slayer showed an uncharacteristic amount of patience and simply waited for her would-be attacker.

She would not be disappointed in her wait, for within moments the bush exploded, spewing a hail of twigs and leaves as a large orc popped out. The orc was armed with one of the most crude and garish daggers she'd ever seen and while the dagger was coming down to take her head right off her shoulders, she became fixated on the notched serrated edges; this thing had seen years of battle. At the last possible moment, the Slayer ducked low into a crouch, swiping out her right leg and tripping the orc backwards. Countering with another chop to its exposed chest, Buffy then used her arms to flip herself to her feet.

The orc was on its feet quickly, swinging its blade in wild, cumbersome arcs, all of which Buffy calmly avoided. The orc swung with too much force; the blade came down in a heavy fall and Buffy reacted instantly. A powerful roundhouse to the orc's midsection brought forth a pained grunt, but she didn't stop her assault there. With as much pressure as she could exert, the tiny blonde rammed her elbow into the orc's nose and even she slightly grimaced as she heard the nasal cavity crunch. The beast was blinded with pain, drawing a hand up to staunch the flow of dark blood as it staggered back.

Buffy jumped, kicking out and catching the orc on the chin. Its head flung back, stunned. Spinning to gain momentum, Buffy finished off her foe by thrusting her thick stake into its heart. The orc gave one failing gasp before falling heavily onto its back.

Satisfied, Buffy fetched her stake from the very dead orc's body. The sounds of frenzied battle flooded the cemetery. Turning, she could see the human Strider parrying sword to sword with an orc; it did not take a genius to see who the better swordsman was. The orc was on the defensive, blocking each forceful blow futilely.

An orc was sneaking up on the warrior's back, but before she could shout a warning, an arrow hit is spinal cord and pierced through to puncture the heart. The Elf had been nonchalantly picking off orcs, turning his body to make slight readjustments for each target, until there was just Strider and his opponent left.

He must have known this, for it seemed that he decided rather casually that this fight was becoming boring and thus ended it with a spin and a thrust through the orc's chest. The three were surveying each other, silently gauging any battle scars or wounds, although there were none to be found. Strider's forehead had tiny beads of sweat flecked across it, Buffy was pushing her tousled hair out of her eyes and Legolas looked like he had done nothing more than cross the street.

All their attention was diverted to the vampire stumbling out of the bushes, shaking his head in a dog-like fashion to rid himself of the clinging leaves. He finally noticed them staring.

"What?"

"Yarrgh!" The four other occupants inside the Summers' living room stopped and stared at the teenager who had just thrown her math textbook clear across the coffee table. Dawn slumped on the couch with her arms folded stubbornly over her chest.

Willow approached the fuming girl cautiously and sat on the edge of the couch while smiling warmly. "Dawn? Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's so stupid! Do I really need this? Am I seriously going to use math for anything in my life?!" Dawn was throwing her arms around madly as she exasperated.

"Well, have you thought about what you're going to do for the rest of your life?" Asked Tara.

Dawn lost her angered train of thought to stare up at Tara with blinking eyes. "No. But I'm sure it won't include math."

"But you need to know how to give customers the right change." Anya piped up.

"Well I'm not going to be a cashier for the rest of my life." Dawn reasoned. Anya looked crestfallen.

Willow was scanning Dawn's sheet of paper that held her homework scribblings. "Oh, no, see here Dawn? It's all in the exponential factor." Willow was pointing to the last problem that had been scrawled out, erased, re-written and finally doodled out.

Dawn was grasping with all her limited mathematical knowledge at what Willow was getting at. Willow was beaming, looking like she had just solved the greatest math problem ever. Dawn suddenly felt a pang of guilt. "Oh! The exponential factor." She smacked herself on the forehead. "Duh."

Anya cocked her head to the side with furrowed eyebrows. "I don't get it."

Xander placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her away from the living room and into the kitchen. "Yeah, no one does."

The front door was flung open abruptly and Buffy and Spike strode in followed by two very odd looking men.

"Buffy?" Willow prompted as she got to her feet, glancing from Buffy to the two new men and back to Buffy.

"Hey Will." She said casually. She looked at her younger sister who was staring at the men with glazed eyes and a slack jaw. "Dawn, did you finish your homework?"

The sound of someone clearing his throat loudly turned Buffy's scrutiny off Dawn and onto Xander and Anya. "And who are our guests?" Asked Xander.

Remembering her manners, Buffy stammered for a moment before gesturing to the men behind her. "This is, ah, Strider," the human bowed his head. "And this is Legolas."

"An Elf."

All eyes focused on Anya who was studying Legolas with wide eyes. "Is it real?" She asked.

Legolas was eyeing the young woman with blatant suspicion. "Yes, it is real."

Anya smiled, seemingly in relief. "But this is impossible! It can't be done!"

Now all eyes turned into confused glances between themselves. "I don't get it, what was done?" Xander was looking at his fiancée with a muddled frown.

"A portal!" She exclaimed. "A portal between parallel worlds." She was walking towards the Elf, hypnotized. "We had heard about your kind. In books; we all thought they were myths. The magic of the Elves."

"Magic?" Tara instantly perked up a notch.

Anya was inches from Legolas' face. "And you're real. So that means the rest of it is real. All of it." She was reaching up to graze his ear tips with her fingers while Legolas was drawing his head away slowly.

"Okay, that's enough of that crazy talk!" Xander pulled Anya away, although her eyes were still glued to the Elf.

"Right." Buffy slapped her palms against her jeans. "Welcome to the Summers' house, now complete with reformed vengeance demons." For her comment, she received two very puzzled looks. "Have you guys eaten anything since you arrived?" Aragorn shook his head and glanced at his friend who, he was positive, had just stifled a yawn.

"We've got some macaroni and cheese and hot dogs." Tara suggested.

Spike grimaced and Buffy attempted to look enthusiastic. "Yum. Dinner of champions. Take a seat." She gestured to the couch and armchairs. Dawn was still gazing doe-eyed at Legolas, but for his part he seemed not to notice as he selected one of the armchairs. Sliding his bow and quiver off his back, the Elf nestled comfortably into the oversized chair.

Aragorn undid his belt that his sword was slung on and sunk down into the couch beside the younger Summers.

"Nice sword." Dawn commented softly.

Aragorn regarded the young girl warmly. She had a youthful energy to her and a face still graced by innocence.

"Where are you guys from?" She asked.

Aragorn was not entirely sure how to answer the posed question. How could he relate where they were from if he didn't know where they were now? "I am from Rivendell, he is from Mirkwood." He answered truthfully. He motioned to the Elf who was sitting across from them with both hands resting on the arms of the chair and staring wide-eyed at them.

Dawn nodded and smiled. "That's nowhere near here, is it?"

Aragorn laughed slightly and shook his head. "No, I do not suppose it is."

Buffy and Xander re-entered the room carrying bowls of rich smelling…something. As Aragorn caught its scent his stomach growled painfully. She handed him a steaming dish of creamy orange curves, dotted with pink bits of, what he guessed, was meat. At the moment, he couldn't care if he was eating troll flesh – it was still nourishment. He accepted the fork from her and began shoveling the food in his mouth.

Buffy turned around and stopped. "What's he doing?" She asked.

Legolas was entranced, staring straight ahead without blinking. Aragorn swallowed a mouthful before answering. "He is sleeping."

"But his eyes are open." Dawn observed.

Aragorn shrugged. "All Elves sleep with their eyes open."

Buffy was peering down at the Elf with interest. "Can he see us?" She asked as Xander waved a hand in front of his face.

"A part of him can. The other part is deep in Elven dreams."

Every shred of attention was focused intently on Legolas as though he was a new form of television. "Fascinating." Anya breathlessly stated. Xander could feel his jealousy begin to rise. 'I mean the guy has pointy ears! Hello, Peter Pan! Creepy!' He thought.

"What do Elves dream of?" Dawn asked.

It was an intriguing question, one that Aragorn had never thought to ask Legolas, or even his own brothers for that matter. "I know not. Perhaps he dreams of home."