"I think we should slap her."
"Anya, we're not going to slap anyone."
"Well, that's what they do in movies. If you weren't such a big stuffy British type, you'd know that."
"Anya!"
"Sorry. I'm just trying to help."
"Well, can you do it from the other room? Go get Willow."
"Fine. Just send the ex-demon away. It's not as if she's a productive member of society..."
"Anya!"
Oof. Head. Hurting. Everything was kind of hazycrazy, like all the voices were from some other dimension, leaking through to my nightmares. Where was I? When was I? I was having this awful dream, a waking horror – could it be over?
"Willow! I think she's starting to come round. Right. Could you bring in that mug from my microwave?"
"Daniel?" My voice rasped, my heart leaped, my eyes opened – and it all came back in a rush. The redhead, Willow, was leaning over me, a "Kiss the Librarian" mug in one hand. I was lying on a faded couch, in someone's living room. Tara was standing behind Willow, Dawn was in a chair.
"What happened? I was patrolling, then...everything gets kind of dark."
"You collapsed," Willow said, handing me the mug. "Spike brought you here."
"Where's here?" I sat up. The mug was full of blood. My nostrils twitched at the gorgeous scent. Cow's blood.
"It's Mr. Giles' house. H-h-he invited you in." Tara sat on the edge of the couch, ventured a smile. "I think he wants you to s-s-stay here, f-for now."
"Oh." I handed the mug back to Tara. "Thank you, but I can't drink this."
"What's wrong? Is it not hot enough? Or too hot? There wasn't a 'blood' button on the microwave, so I had to guess." Willow took the cup from Tara. "And Spike was no help at all. Just kept glaring and muttering and being all..."
"Spikey?" offered Dawn.
"Yeah. Spikey." Willow finished.
"No. I mean yes. I mean, I'm sure the temperature is fine. It's just that, I can't drink blood."
"I t-thought that was human blood." Tara said.
"It is. I mean, the curse specifies that drinking the blood of a human causes imminent soul lossage, etc. But...what if it IS human blood?"
"No, Spike got it from the butcher himself. It's yucky cow's blood." Dawn obviously wasn't getting it. I would have to explain slower. Maybe with smaller words.
"But a human butchered the cow. A human collected the blood. What if he cut himself? If there's even a drop, the tiniest speck...I could lose everything. I can't risk it. Not just because I'm Hungry." The world was spinning again. I leaned my head down, fighting back the darkness that was rimming my vision.
"You have to, love. You almost got me sodding killed out there." Spike had entered, carrying his own mug of bloody goodness.
"But, the curse..."
"Hang the curse. I've been drinking out of the same bag as you, and there's no human blood there. Believe me. Nothing but sodding cow." He took another sip, then gestured to the mug in Willow's hands. "Well? Drink up. Heath, wealth, and all that."
I gingerly took the offered cup. Inhaling, I swam in the aroma. My eyes slowly opened, searching out the older vampire's.
He raised his mug slightly in salute. "I'll stake you myself. Cheers."
So, for the second time in my undead life, I drank warm cow's blood from a cup. Both times, Hunger had nearly driven me mad. Both times, my offering to him drove him back, just in the nick of time. I immersed myself in the textures, the colors, the blinding flashes of the lifeblood. It was only a small sliver of what the demon in me craved, but it was enough. It would always have to be enough.
Spike kept feeding me blood until I complained that I was going to pop. After that unpleasant mental picture, he took his leave, snarkaly pointing out all the excess patrolling he'd have to do. Very uncivilized to mention a lady's illness in front of her.
However, I wasn't completely devastated to see him go. It was like all the excess tension in the world suddenly decided to cram itself into Rupert Giles' living room. Very uncomfortable. And speaking of my host – he was nowhere to be found.
"Willow, where's Rupert?" We were all sitting around stiffly, pretending we weren't dreadfully uneasy.
"Giles? He's...umm...he actually...well, you know how the British are! I mean, they...he...well..." Suddenly Willow seemed to lose the ability to speak.
Luckily, Anya will never have that problem. "He went to the Magic Box. You know, he's been acting really weird. Ever since you showed up. I mean, he's always acted weird. He's so...tweedy. But this is really Giles weird. I think he was also wigged out by the fight."
"Ok, I understood maybe two words of that. Could someone translate?"
"M-Mr. Giles went to the Magic Box. Actually, that's w-where Willow and I need to go, t-t-too." Tara looked very pleased with herself. Probably because of the excellent segue and exit plan all in one neat package.
"Yeah, that was the one thing I got, actually." I sighed, rising from the couch and beginning to pace. At least that funny buzzing in my head had gone. "What do you mean he's been acting weird since I showed up. What's different about him?"
The girls exchanged glances. Finally Dawn spoke up. "It's like he knows you, but is trying to ignore you. Like when you see someone you hate in the grocery store, you keep your head down and try not to walk down the same isles as them?"
She glanced around. Anya, Willow, and Tara were staring at her, mouths agape. Obviously they had wanted to search for information a little more subtly than that.
"Or something like that. Whatever." Dawn finished weakly, sinking back in her chair.
Pulling back the curtains, I stared out into the moonlit street. "I am a vampire. Maybe he's just uneasy about me being around everyone. I don't have a chip to control me. I'm a monster, an unleashed demon. And I have Slayer strength on top of that. I'd be worried too, if I was him."
The group again exchanged glances. They were saved from answering by the door being swung open and Xander making a noisy entrance.
"Hello ladies! What'd I miss?"
Anya rose hastily and greeted him with a kiss. "Nothing much. Let's go."
"So eager to go? What's up?" Xander smiled quizzically at her, then looked up. His eyes met mine. Let's just say that the Xan-man and I won't be entering any three legged races together in the near future.
"Ah. Gotcha. Well, we do actually have to skedaddle. Buffy sent me to get Dawn." He forced a smile of greeting in my direction. "Get your coat Dawnie. We have to have you home in thirty minutes or less, or your sister will flip."
I nodded towards him. He took both Anya and Dawn by the arm, and kept a close eye on me as they said goodnight to the Witches. Finally, they departed. Surprisingly, Willow and Tara stayed.
"You know, I'm a big girl. I can probably manage all by my lonesome..." Trailing off, I saw the nervous looks on both of their faces. "But you can't leave me, can you? Probably have orders not to leave me alone. Yeah." Keep the monster contained.
Sixth Rule of Slaying - Choose your battles wisely. If you expend all your energy on the minions, you won't have anything left for the Big Bad. Rupert Giles was being wise. He didn't trust me. Heck, I didn't trust me. It was pointless to be offended by common sense.
Flopping back down on the couch, I looked at Tara. "Well, then. Tell me about yourself."
I think I shocked her. "W-w-what? M-m-me?"
"Yeah. I'm assuming that you can't leave till Mr. Tweed-of-the-Year gets back. I've told you my life story. Might as well talk about you." I put on my best 'you can trust me' smile and leaned forward.
"What do you want to know?" Willow asked, obviously joining me in trying to make the best of an awkward situation.
"Well, you're both into the witch thing, right?"
"Yeah. I've been doing it for a couple years now. Tara's been into it longer."
"B-but Willow's better at it." Tara smiled tenderly at her lover.
It was like, in an instant, they could be in their own world -their own safe haven. A bubble of love, where only warm fuzzy things happened. I'd seen the same type of look pass between Xander and Anya. Even Buffy and Dawn had their own 'sister bubble', where they knew everything about each other and the love was still there. More than anything else, I longed for that. More than anything else, that was the one thing that was forever denied to me.
"How did you two meet?" I questioned. They broke their gaze, and Willow told me their story.
It was simple and sweet, though I must admit I didn't really listen to the words. I was captivated by the love that was evident; by the laughter at a forgotten joke, the blushes over remembering the awkward first crush. I was completely enthralled by the raw humanity they exemplified. This was why I fought. This was why I would die again. So people could meet and laugh and love and Live. Apart from the sorrow, the pain, the Hunger, the blood, there was this. And this was why a Slayer could endure all the darkness - because she knew of the light.
"And now we're all part of the Scooby gang." Willow finished.
"I'm sorry...the Scooby gang?" Confusion must have been evident on my face, because both women began to laugh.
"Sorry, I forgot you didn't speak the lingo." She continued, "Scooby gang - that's us. Tara, me, Xander, Anya, Giles, Buffy..."
"Maybe even Spike." Tara laughed. "When he's not being all..."
"Spikey?" I supplied.
"Right. Spikey." Tara agreed.
"Ok, so I get you guys being part of this gang - the witch thing comes in handy when dealing with otherworldly powers. And Buffy is a given, so's Giles, and even Spike. But, I must admit I don't get Anya and Xander. What do they do?"
"Anya is an ex-demon - long story - so she provides some valuable info. She also really likes money. But I guess that isn't exactly a selling point." Willow said, smiling.
"Wow. Ex-demon. That explains some stuff. Ok, Anya's in. But what about Xander? Army commando? Firearms expert? Werewolf? What's his shtick?"
Yet more glances exchanged. On to-do list: Learn to speak without words. Will probably come in handy with this group.
"Xander is...he's...our heart, you know?" Willow tried to explain. "He's the one that believes in us, he holds us together. Without him...I don't think we'd still be a group. He's our sticky super glue."
I knew exactly what she meant. The person that never thought the worst would come, who always believed there would be a tomorrow. Even when it was darkest, even when you'd given up hope, they trusted you. They believed in you. And that made you believe in yourself.
"I know...I knew someone like that. Her name was Jena. She never gave up."
"Yeah, that's Xander too. Oh, he cracks jokes sometimes. But I don't think he ever loses faith in Buffy...in all of us." Willow was looking at me intently.
"Do you think they mind it? All the weight we put on them? Sometimes I didn't go to her, didn't tell her what woke me up in the middle of the night, because I didn't want to lean too hard on her. I didn't want her to feel like a crutch, you know?" I said.
"I know." Willow said.
"I-I think they need the weight." Tara spoke up. I think Willow and I had almost forgotten she was there. "That's how they're made. They love us, so they try to take up some of the burden for us. Xander...I think he'd go crazy if we tried to lighten his load. He holds us up because that's how he shows his love. He needs us as much as we need him."
At that moment, Rupert Giles walked into the room.
He was wearing the usual tweed, his glasses perched on his nose, a book in hand. In other words, the poster-child Watcher. Yet, something was different: in the way he strode into the room, his stance, the set of his mouth. I knew that look. He'd made a decision, now he was ready to act. I just hoped I was ready as well.
"Willow, Tara. Right. Thank you for staying with Theresa." His gaze fixed on me. "I know you both are ready to call it a night. I'll see you tomorrow."
Both girls looked shocked at this apparently out of character dismissal. But they gathered up their things wordlessly and bid us a quick goodnight. I looked longingly at the door. This was not something I was looking forward to.
"Tessa."
I exhaled slowly. Man, did I miss breathing.
"Daniel."
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Buffyverse. All that belongs to Joss...but he was raised well and lets other kids play with his toys. Cookies to Joss! Theresa and her lil story belong to the erstwhile plot bunny Hubert. I'm basically a glorified typewriter.
A/N: Much thanks and love for following along thus far. Cookies go to all who reviewed (yay!) and J. for Betaing this chappie. And remember folks, I will do anything for reviews. :-) Drive safely and don't forget to tip the waitress.
