Okay… here's an extra-long chapter…
And other thing, I'm sorry if the Oz/Kennedy 'glare fight' seems kind of spontaneous…
~*~
Sunnydale, California
1984
The dawn was cold and gray, the stark shadows of the mist slowly rising from the dying yellow grass. One figure still lingered among the ghostlike headstones, her long hair, the color of old gold and the black mourning garb the only things visible from a distance. She kneeled near the red granite headstone, finally sobbing through her veil. Her fiancé's funeral had ended hours ago, but she, of all the friends and family had remained there for at least twelve hours, not an ounce of comfort lingering on her soul.
She had a perfect life: Tobias, her 'God of fiancés, a wonderful job, and a baby on the way. All that was shattered in a single phone call nearly a week before. Tobias had been hit head-on by a drunk driver, the unidentified man fleeing the scene unscathed. Now, she knew she couldn't do this anymore. Not the child. Not anything. It wasn't worth it anymore. Tobias was everything to her, and now he was gone. Forever.
Another figure cleared through the mist, one she had recognized. He had visited her many, many times previous to this, offering what she could now not deny she wanted. Immortality. A new, wild, reckless life. She wanted it.
The vampire Erestdae was indeed powerful. Able to take the forms of those he had killed and of his own original one, and to add to that, he was completely oblivious to the sun's affect on 'normal' vampires. She was slightly surprised to see him here, knowing the local coven had locked him up inside the hellmouth under Sunnydale.
"Now or never, love. Your decision. I haven't gotten much time, Fiona, that Maclay witch… she's comin'… and it'll be the hellstorm of the century for me."
She accepted the offer, and several hours later, she'd become what she was born to be.
"You are no longer a human. You are a child of darkness now," Erestdae whispered. "You are my Isis," he chided, a frown curving on his lips as the pair exited the graveyard.
"Taking in a new fledgling, Erestdae?" the medium sized woman snapped, stake in hand. In the case of this coven of witches, witch could almost be used as a synonym for Erestdae hunter/killer.
"Why yes, and I see you have a little bit." He observed a small girl in her late toddler years a few feet behind.
"Tara!" the woman shrieked. "I thought I told you… sweetie…"
"She's the Witch, isn't she, Skylar?"
"No."
Erestdae mumbled a curse, digging through her mind to retrieve the information he needed. Damn it. She was telling the truth.
"Guess I'll have to wait 'til little bit has a little bit of her own, eh?"
Kennedy… Kennedy! God, wake up Kennedy…
~*~
Wow… that was a weird dream. The first thought mingled in Kennedy's mind. It was so vivid… so real… but…
"Kennedy! It's noon and you haven't woken up!" B'trli whined, shaking Kennedy vigorously.
"It's also Saturday." She mused.
"You're a big person. Big people wake up early," came B'trli's wise Kindergarten logic, using her Slayer powers to physically lift Kennedy out of bed. "C'mon, Kenny."
"Okay, okay… you win." She replied, still half-asleep as she rolled out of B'trli's arms. "Yes, I'm a natural blue…"
"Huh?" the very confused Slayer-in-training asked.
"Please don't tell me you haven't seen Finding Nemo!" Kennedy teased, now fully awake and skipping down the stairs, B'trli at her heels. She simply shook her head as Kennedy widened her eyes in sarcastic shock. Soon, though, a real look of shock painted itself on her features as she entered the kitchen.
~*~
Much to Anya's, and obviously the twins', dismay, Xander had suggested that they leave Oz and Willow alone for a while. So, off to adventures in grocery shopping and patroning to the (and Anya hated to admit it) failing economy. Currently in the dairy section, the Harris-Jenkins's were stalled in mid-hallway.
A red kerchief, tied in such a way that it gave her look a very Jack Sparrow esque, covered Shayla's dark hair— and sprouting horns – henceforth giving her the nickname 'Pirate'. The horns made Xander get kind of worried; for one thing, how the hell did they get there? Anya wasn't a vengeance demon as far as he knew…
And they couldn't keep hiding the little things forever. Schools have dress codes banning hats… so… how exactly could they explain that.
"Hey! Harris, that you?"
A rather tall and muscular man approached Xander, patting him on the back. "Remember? 'I'm gonna kick the crap out of you after school'?"
Oh yeah. Aaron Williamson. The linebacker for the football team that hung his entire contents of his whitey-tighty drawer. Good times, good times. Note the sarcasm.
"So you married the weird chick, huh? Cute little Harris kids." Aaron observed, eyeing Anya.
"Actually," Anya began. "We're not married. Our children are bastards." She grinned, returning to her observation of how the sliding door to the milk works.
"Uh… long story. Let's just say the first wedding… didn't work. It was bad. Really bad."
With a slight look of shock on his face, Aaron departed. "What'd you say that for?" asked Xander.
"Well, it's the truth. We weren't married at the time they were born… and according to you three weeks ago; we are eventually going to do your horrendous mortal wedding ceremony.
"BOO!" Shayla shrieked happily, her twin brother remaining silent and sleepy. "NEE!" she added, gurgling.
"Where?!"
~*~
"Who the hell's this?" Kennedy inquired, motioning to Oz. Not a happy expression on her face, either.
"Oz." He answered as with a vague hint in his voice that he would use if was lying. Which was rare. His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a few seconds, then rose from his seat and took in a whiff of air. "And you're Kennedy. Pleasure."
"The pleasure's all mine," she returned with some bits of sarcasm in her voice. "Willow?"
"This is Oz," she re-introduced, and feeling that despite the fact they'd just met, they didn't really enjoy each other's company. "The werewolf guy I used to date." The situation grew a little uneasier by the second.
A small, beautiful voice sounded from the living room. Someone singing:
"I lived my life in shadow
Never the sun on my face
It didn't seem so sad though
I figured that was my place…"
That was Tara's song. That was Tuesday singing it…
"Now I'm bathed in light
Something just isn't right…" Tuesday stopped singing abruptly, probably realizing that they were listening in the other room. The argument continued, but it was obviously silent, glares filling the kitchen.
Tuesday stood in the doorway, unoblivious to what was going on. I wish they would stop it…
"Did you hear something?"