Disclaimer: Only own Michael, the Necromancer, all others belong to JW.

A/N: Time to step this up a bit. Let us see how this progresses.

Title: Korn, 'Blind'. Got to admit, Listening to a lot of early Korn while writing this stuff. Most likely more than what's healthy for me...

*****

"So, tomorrow night?" Xander asked Willow as they walked hand in hand down the street to his house. "You think you're ready for it?"

"Of course," she answered, giving him a brilliant smile. "I'm only lighting a signal fire so the spell brings him to the right world."

The cracking of twigs and leaves brought their attention to the small graveyard they were passing, both readying themselves for a fight. Willow's hands came up, her fingers tense, but still. Xander drew his pistol from his waistband with lightning speed. What they saw caused them both to pause.

"What the fuck...?" Xander said.

*****

Faith and Michael were sprawled on the couch, taking full advantage of their night off. Thankfully, the current situation in Sunnydale, being that there were so many people capable of patrolling, meant that it wasn't an every night thing for any one person.

They were watching a movie, Faith's choice tonight. Thankfully, it wasn't a sappy romance or 'chick-flick'. We Were Soldiers was definitely a gory movie, one who's underlying message they both understood. Courage, loyalty. Never leaving you're own behind. Doing one's duty, even when it hurt.

Suddenly, they both sat up, sensing something amiss in Sunnydale. Faith got up and began putting on her boots, as Michael did the same.

"Just once..." she muttered, hearing Michael's answering chuckle.

"Yea, right," he answered her unfinished thought, shaking his head as he reached for his father's sword.

*****

Spike's alive, she thought, smiling to herself. That in itself was a comfort, one she had desperately needed. The second comfort, following close on the heels of the first, was that he was coming back, and soon. She missed his smirks, his swagger, his leather. She missed him.

Giles watched with some alarm as she suddenly stopped smiling and jumped to her feet. He knew her senses were better that his own, but was definitely not expecting the sudden, oppressive weight of darkness that seemed to settle over the house.

"Stay and watch Dawn," the Slayer said quickly, grabbing one of her favorite axes as she hurried out the door.

"Oh, dear," Giles said as he got up, locking all the doors and checking the pistol Xander had given him the other day. One round chambered, safety off, and two more magazines in his pocket.

*****

"Any ideas?" Xander asked, his gun trained on the nearest of the walking corpses.

"Keep them off of me for a minute," the witch answered, suddenly going into a deep trance, murmuring slightly as she swayed, slightly, from side to side.

"Alright." The report of his gun was loud in the eerie silence that had descended upon the street. Absent was the gently music of the insects, gone was the cry of a nocturnal raptor. All that was there was the gunfire, and Willow's chanting.

His first shot took the leg off of the nearest zombie-thing, still over twenty yards away. It fell, but resumed its approach by crawling, albeit at a much slower pace. Xander decided to conserve his ammo as much as possible, and took out the faster moving corpses first, aiming at knees and shins. He hoped Willow did something soon.

He only had forty-five rounds, and there were a hell of a lot more of them than that.

*****

"Walk or ride?" Faith asked as they exited the apartment.

"Run," Michael said, pointing his unsheathed blade towards a nearby cemetery, where he could make out the shambling forms of the walking dead. They were all moving to the far end of the cemetery.

"Go," she replied as she turned back into the apartment. "I've only got a stake. I'll meet you there." He nodded and took off at a quick jog, the glow from his blade becoming brighter as he approached the horde.

*****

Buffy saw Xander standing in front of Willow, his gun moving slightly as he picked off targets carefully. The zombies where almost at the cemetery wall, a mere eight feet from them. Thankfully, they moved slow, and she was easily able to cover the short distance before the walking dead did.

"Calvary's here," she said cheerfully as she brought the axe clean through the moldy corpse that stumbled over the wall.

"Keep them from Wills," Xander said as he backed off a bit, putting the last mag in his gun. "She's trying something."

"Pretty simple," the blonde said as she clove her second zombie in two. "You see the rest of the group?"

"I can see Michael's sword, I think," he answered as he scanned the street behind them quickly. "He's on the other side of this mess."

"Thought so," she said, ducking a clumsy swing from an almost-skeletal corpse. "Get a bigger gun, quickly."

"Five minutes," Xander said as he turned down the street and ran at a dead sprint. He knew he was pretty much useless without ammo, especially against things that didn't feel pain.

"Three hundred count," the slayer mused, knocking the corpses back with her tight, powerful swings.

*****

Faith barely noticed him as she ran to the apartment, her mind already going through the battle ahead. Unfortunately, she would never make it to that fight, as the strange man knocked her out could as she ran past, his powerful fist aided by her momentum. Her last thoughts were amazingly Faith-esque.

What the fu....

*****

True to his word, Xander was back in five minutes, almost to the second. Buffy was tiring, but Willow had yet to move from her trance. Neither of them would leave her undefended.

"Buffy, down!" Xander shouted, and she complied without conscious thought, falling flat on her back. A good thing she did, because the load roar of his shotgun, and the damage it did to the now-crowding corpses would have been painful.

The Slayer rolled to her right and quickly regained her feet as Xander filled the air with rounds from the semi-automatic shotgun he held. With a quick and sure movements, he shot and reloaded, shot and reloaded. He seemed like he had things under control, mainly due to the fact the zombies were being tore to pieces by his well chosen weapon.

"Buffy!" Willow's voice was almost a surprise, and thankfully Buffy wasn't actually fighting right then. That would've been messy. "You've got to help Faith!"

"What?"

"He's taken her!" Who definitely wasn't very specific, but she had a feeling she knew who. Nodding once to Willow, Buffy took off running in the direction that Willow was pointing. All the while, there had been no stop to Xander's firing.

Taking in a deep breath, Willow began chanting. She only hoped she had enough power to stop the spell working here.

*****

Michael's blade sang as he cut a deep swath into the enemy's lines, limbs flying as he cut like a scythe through grain. It was the fall harvest, and he was doing the reaping. Damn Necromancer, ruining a nice, quiet evening with his lady. Damn his black heart.

The strange thing was, the mob was bent on someone on the far side of the cemetery, and they never even turned to face him. This was odd, because the undead usually turned to fight the greatest threat, unless they had been given some specific instructions.

He could feel the rise of the witch's power nearby, almost directly in front of him, and suddenly knew exactly what they were after. Her and the young man were patrolling tonight, which meant that whomever cast this spell wanted them out of the picture. Not a bad idea, strategically speaking. Take out as much support for the big guns as possible, then move in for the kill.

Grinning savagely, Michael nearly missed the voice of alarm at the back of his head. When he finally did hear it, it was too late.

Faith.

*****

Buffy found him easily enough. Hard not to, really, since he was walking with two large, Frankenstein things, one of which carried Faith, and the other carried some dark-haired woman, who's form tugged at the edge of Buffy's mind.

"So good of you to join us," he said, turning to face her. "I was wondering when you would fall into my little trap."

"What makes you thin..." Pain blossomed in her mind, and darkness rose to claim her. Too late, she realized that he had three of those monsters with him.

*****

"... return to you're rest!" she shouted, her voice growing hoarse towards the end of her chanting. Thankfully, it was over, as the bodies seemed to be dragged back into the graves, as if by some unseen hand pulling invisible strings. They both looked at Michael as he came running up, slightly frightened by the tears of anger and pain in his eyes.

"He's fooled us," he said quietly. "A neat little trap, and now he has what he's really wanted this entire time." He paused for a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes with his free hand. He visibly gathered himself for his next words, two words that would rock the very foundation of their world.

"Both Slayers."

Willow and Xander stood, mouths agape, at his words. Suddenly they felt so lost, so hopeless. But the steel determination that suddenly filled Michael's eyes gave them a small measure of hope. They would get them back.

Or die trying.

*****

The next morning, while everyone remaining was planning on how to rescue Buffy and Faith, Giles walked to the cemetery that the attack happened in. From the descriptions they had given him, and the dreams he had the last night, he knew what he would find. His heart already sinking, he found his worst fears realized.

There was one grave that remained empty, it's coffin pulled from the ground and left open and empty. Tears filled his eyes for a brief moment before his anger pushed the pain from his heart. He walked back to Buffy's house with determination and righteous anger clear in his gait.

The stone marker on the now-empty grave brought up memories of failure, loss, and regret. The name brought up feelings he thought long buried with the occupant of that coffin. The name, different from the one he had called her. And it was that name that ran though his mind as he walked back.

Jenny Calendar.