Disclaimer: You would have to be nuts to believe I own anything in here except for the insanity that is the plot. All is Joss Whedon's and various wrestlers'.

Author: Chimera.

Rating: PG-13/14

Part: 6/?

Warnings: Swearing, slash, characters sometimes – only sometimes – acting weird, bad movies.

Notes: I had a dream last night about yellow kittens, caused by me watching the slashiness that was WrestleMania XIX all night. That of course has nothing to do with the story, I just thought you all should know. This chapter was also delayed slightly by me being sick to the point of hallucinations for 48 hours. I still feel like crap, and my neighbour's dog attacking me didn't really help on the typing side of things especially when it nearly took off the tip of my right index finger.

Pairings: Matt/Buffy, Jeff/Willow, Lance/Christian, mentions of Sean/Matt, Sean/Hunter and Sean/Justin, perceivable Rob/Spike.

   "Lance?"

   The Canadian grinned weakly at his friend, his eyes dropping slightly. "Kwissie…" he drawled, slurring a bit.

   "Oh no you don't," Christian ordered, propping his friend up as Lance almost fell over.

   Lance's gaze slid from Christian to Matt Hardy, who deigned to enter the room and headed straight over to his brother. "He hasn't woken up," he said helpfully.

   "Dammit," Matt cursed under his breath. He shot Lance a look, then softened it as he noticed Lance's nearly child-like state of tired giddiness. "Thanks Lance."

   Christian blinked at the uncharacteristic sentence, but shook himself out of it. "C'mon Lance, let's go watch some bad movies on cable."

   "Can we rent Space Troopers?" Lance asked, his face lighting up.

   The blonde groaned. "You'll be the one keeping me awake then, dude."

   They continued arguing as they exited the room.

   Matt shook his head in amazement. Those two were…weird. His attention was drawn from the two Canadians to a groan on the table. Jeff blinked his eyes open, puzzled green meeting concerned brown.

   "How're you feeling, li'l bro?" Matt whispered.

   Jeff blinked a few more times. "Like I just went through a handicap table match with all the Dudleyz plus a no holds barred match with Kane."

   "Close."

   His younger brother let out a groan, closing his eyes. "Matt?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Next time we have a no DQ match, can you please remove all ladders from under the ring?"

   "Sure."

   Jeff let out another weak answering moan.

   Jeff entered their locker room first.

   "Ah crap."

   He limped to one of the benches along the side of the room. Willow nearly moved to assist him, but Buffy stopped the movement with a quick shake of her head. "I hope now's a good time?" she asked with mock sweetness.

   "We want to know a lot of things." At Matt's eye roll, she said pointedly, "Now."

   Matt and Jeff exchanged a glance. Willow could easily see the worry in both their eyes, as well as a touch of…fear?

   "I'm wai-ting," Buffy sing-songed. "Tell me something I don't know."

   "When I was three I started gymnastics and got to the highest level when I was seven." Matt lifted an eyebrow at Buffy. "Betcha didn't know that."

   The Slayer growled.

   Jeff had to fight back a snort at Matt's amused, detached expression. "Ask and we shall answer."

   "What the hell are you?"

   "In pain."

   "Stop fucking avoiding the question!" Buffy shouted, her last shred of patience abruptly snapping.

   Matt smiled. Oh, how he loved making people uncomfortable. "Oooo, I'm scared," he mocked.

   "I'm the frickin' Slayer, you should be scared."

   Matt and Jeff both dropped the smartass act. "Fine? You want to know about us?" Jeff questioned rhetorically. He got up so he was looking Buffy straight in the eye, emerald fire on obscure brown. "My first girlfriend was a Slayer. I was next to her when she died – not from vampires or demons, but by a stupid mistake of mine – my mistake, and she was the one who fuckin' died." His voice was calm and composed all the way through, but the glint of danger was obvious. "My mistake was believing she could understand that I couldn't change who I was; not for her, not for Matt, not even for myself."

   Buffy raised an eyebrow.
   "She attacked me!" he nearly screamed. "She attacked me and I…I clawed her, it was an accident. It was an accident," he repeated. His eyes drifted over his brother to the Slayer to Willow, begging for understanding. "An accident."

   Matt crossed the room and enfolded his brother in a hug, which he sank willingly into. "Kara's blood and Jeff's blood mixed. She died of blood poisoning – Slayer blood has a couple of extra hormones and ours is missing quite a few. The doctors diagnosed it as anaemia and she died, activating what I presume was your predecessor or maybe pre-predecessor."

   "What exactly are you?" Willow asked softly, then bit her lip when she drew Jeff's attention.

   In total opposition of his attitude with Buffy, Jeff nearly wilted as their eyes met. He dropped back onto the bench, looking defeated. "Matt?" he said quietly.

   The brunette dragged a lock of blue hair through his fingers before answering. "We're werewolves."

   Willow relaxed with a heavy exhalation. "Oh, that's okay then. I thought you were like vampires without souls or Gar'on'lai demons – I'm alright with werewolves. I mean, I dated one, so that'd be a tad hypocritical of me wouldn't it? And it's not like you *chose* to become werewolves, right? How were you bitten? Oh no, stupid me, you probably don't want to talk about-"

   "Shut up Wills," Buffy said softly.

   Willow became obediently quiet, zipping and buttoning her lips together as she sat on one of the benches marking out the room.

   "Why are you so mad at Mark?" Buffy asked quietly, directing her question at Matt – Jeff looked like he had seemingly fallen asleep from exhaustion, apart from occasional blinks and sleepy growls directed at Buffy when she came too close to his older brother.

   Matt's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "You don't know?" he asked, voice reflecting his expression. "Mark is a miserable son-of-a-bitch that tried to kill one of our best friends – Lita's off for another nine months thanks to a neck injury. He's knows we're weres, and he's tried to end our careers a heap of times-"

   "And I would have succeeded," a deep voice boomed from the doorway.

   Jeff jerked away, and stood next to his brother, both tensed and ready. Buffy moved away from the two men, instinctively taking a position in front of Willow.

   Mark had found them.