Hey all! Thanks so much for the feedback (particularly the part where there was nothing along the lines of "you suck, go die"). The next 2 or 3 chapters will be all following the same timeline, but after that it's going to get really exciting. Please review with what you love and what you hate! Thanks to everyone who helped me with the review junk. You guys are great. Sorry it took so long to update—college is a pain in the ass. Enjoy!

2

While Rebello Drive's silence was being shattered by a dozen or so young women, elsewhere there was a man with a casual swagger walking through one of the darker parts of town unaccompanied by anything but the cool breeze. He swaggered as if he owned the world, or the world owed him something much larger than itself.
The alley he stood in cast dark shadows along his sturdy body and his black hair meshed into the darkness perfectly. His fair skin glowed and was reflected in a puddle at his feet. He stopped and took a moment to admire himself. He puffed up his arms and chest, and put a harsh frown on his face.
"Oh yeah," he said in a deep voice, "I'm bad." Then he smiled wide. After a moment he retracted the grin and replaced it with a suave smirk.

"Boo!" The hard man let out a scream that reached a pitch most little girls can't reach. He jumped in the arm, and his arms crossed in front of his face quickly as he backed into the brick wall in an unbridled panic.

"What a wanker," Spike commented, chuckling to himself. He brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked in on the cigarette feeling it flood his dead lungs and as he laughed the smoke propelled forward. Xander stayed against the wall, and felt rage build. His bottom lip twitched slightly as his face twisted.

"Are you crazy?" Xander stood up and got close to the vampire's face. Spike looked at him as he would an ant.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Spike asked changing the topic and watching Xander shift a little. He stumbled for the words for a moment.

"I was um…Looking for a…I was patrolling," He confessed after a moment. Spike smiled, his brown eyes wild with amusement. Then after a moment he sobered up.

"You shouldn't be out alone now, you know that," He paused, but not long enough for Xander to say anything. "The Future Slayers of America is having is first annual meeting at Buffy's, which means I'm not invited—not that I want to be," he added firmly, then took another lungful of poison. Xander's look of anger melted into excitement.

"The girls are here?" He was a little to enthusiastic. Spike lifted the corner of his lip in disgust.

"This gross, Harris, they're little girls," he said firmly.

"Oh, so you're telling me what's right and wrong?" Xander demanded, either missing the point or pointedly ignoring it. "You? Well Spike, killed anyone lately?"
"Sod off. Go become some vamps delicious triscuit cracker," Spike steamed and stalked off. Xander was left there, suddenly aware that he wasn't 'bad' and more importantly, that there was a bunch of young impressionable girls over at Buffy's. Before he knew it he was more or less prancing his way to Buffy's.

Buffy was in a word: exasperated. The potentials were very nice, but they were also curious, energetic, anxious and extremely talkative. Buffy could only imagine that it was like having a dozen hers with more annoying voices and (as an average) bad hair. Over the course of a few hours she'd been asked about fifty thousand questions, and was sure she would not be able to speak in the morning. She snuck off as two of the girls began a heated argument over werewolves, a subject neither knew much about. Giles attempted to interrupt for the sake of information, but he was shushed by the other girls.
Buffy had snuck out and into the kitchen just as the shush resonated through the room, and striking a particular nerve that alerted her to her need for coffee. Her blonde tendrils were pulled back in a hasty ponytail and she didn't bother turning on the lights in the kitchen. She'd been there seven years and hadn't changed the order of things. She made the same steps her mother had done before her; the reach for the can, the move to the pot, two scoops, measure, and the waiting that occurred thereafter. Moments like these had become few and far between, but they were the moments that cause her body to rock, and her throat to tense. An avalanche of memories, and pain would encase her and she could do nothing but wait for the feeling to melt away. It always did, but the sting was constant, the pang in her heart that served as the reminder that she'd never hug her mother again.

The only thing that was worse than experiencing the sensation itself was seeing it etched on Willow's face. She could only imagine the agony Willow felt every day. Sure she'd lost lovers before, but not like that. The finality in it made her stomach churn. What it had done to Willow, and what still resides in her friend as a result, was terrifying and created a nauseous feeling that made Buffy's taste buds tingle and swell in the back of her throat. It was a rare moment when Willow's eyes weren't plagued with the gravity and knowledge of the recent past. Buffy knew her friend would move on, that it would not necessarily be easy, but that she would find someone who would love her endlessly. Buffy was still scared for her friend, for the future of them all, but specifically for Willow. She had come a long way from the bumbling white-tights sophomore Buffy had met. There was darkness in Willow that even Buffy could never know. Buffy heard the shuffle of silent feet, and though her senses were alerted she remained calm.

"She'll be okay," Spike said from beside Buffy. He was looking out of the window thoughtfully. He had been watching her since she entered the kitchen and had instantly identified the look on her face. Buffy glanced at him, and then followed his eyes.

"I know," She looked down for a moment, then at Spike again, "I wish I could do something to hurry it up," the confession tingled on her lips. Spike swallowed and let his jaw tighten for a moment.

"Yeah, me too," he said and closed his eyes, not sure if the reaction he received would be one of anger, or understanding. Buffy blinked then looked to him, reaching indecisively until her hand touched his arm. Through the sheath of wool he felt the heat from her arm and felt his body begin to churn and wake. Their eyes met brown to blue, and Spike's jaw relaxed.

"I'm proud of you," her voice was thick with compassion. His eyes went wide, and he smiled.

"Yea?"

"Yeah," she said and smiled back unable to restrain it. For a moment neither said a word, they stood in the darkness, listening to brewing coffee, watching the moonlight reflect in the other's eyes.

It was the beep of the coffee maker that brought them back to reality. As she brought the pot out to pour herself a cup, she motioned it to Spike, who shook his hand no. He watched her, captivated, as she did the most menial of tasks with an elegant and arousing beauty. He felt his body contract and expand all at once, and he still marveled at the sensation. His observing glance eventually turned to one of longing, and he knew his eyes burned hot on her body. He tore his eyes away as she stirred the sugar and cream into a blend of flavor.

"By the way, I leaked that a bunch of young impressionable tidbits were here and Xander wet his pants and bolted in his direction," Spike said, and his eyes had that playful quality that had abandoned them as of late. Buffy smiled.

"Now we'll never get him to leave," she sipped her coffee, "which isn't a bad thing because there are a few things that are bound to need fixing soon," she was sly and cast Spike a glance that made him gulp.

"Right, well, I'll be in the basement if you need me," he said quickly and shuffled off towards the basement for a session of brooding comparable to his favorite soul-having vampire.

Buffy had only a moment of breathing time to herself before her silence was again interrupted. This time the strongest of the young potentials came into the kitchen. She stood just past the threshold, her legs planted firmly and her arms crossed. She was like a comic book hero, standing bold and beautiful before any problem to cross her path.

"I can help you," she said confidently. Buffy looked at her, and was interested in the girls offer.

"How can you help me exactly?"
"I've been training since I was ten; most of them have never even seen a punching bag in person," she said and though there was strength, there was no arrogance. Well, maybe a pinch of arrogance. Buffy smiled at the girls quip and her eyes lightened up.

"For now I want to keep you as part of the ranks. If you pull ahead, then we'll talk," Buffy felt herself sound like a commander. No longer a warrior. Kennedy sighed.

"But I know I can help,"

"And I'm sure you can," Buffy cut her off, "but for now you're in the ranks," and with that the discussion was settled. Buffy observed Kennedy's unflinching stance, though her eyes were searching behind their beautiful browns in an attempt to work her thoughts into tangible speech. Buffy smirked, amused by her.

"So Willow," she said after a moment, still self-assured. Buffy's smile broadened.

"What about Willow?" Buffy had more protectiveness in her voice than was necessary, but it was out of a mixture of curiosity and genuine compassion for her friend. This girl was a potential slayer, yes, but she was also a stranger, and strangers who take interest in one of her friends usually were bad strangers.

Kennedy gave a casual shrug, but her hands went into her pockets instinctively. She looked down, her lips pouting in a thoughtful way. She knew she had to be careful, if she gave the slayer the wrong idea, she might have to hurt her. And beating the crap out of the slayer, she imagined, wasn't a good way to get on her friendly side. Assuming she had one.

"She seemed nice. I was just curious about um, her?" Kennedy inwardly sighed. 'Not the best you've come up with' she thought bitterly. Buffy's heart almost flew through her throat as she tried to keep from laughing. She kept her calm but a smile spread her lips tenderly.

"Curious about what?" She again had a firm tone to her, but Kennedy could tell it was easing.

"Well, she seems nice…and lonely," she added after a moment. Buffy nodded, and then looked past Kennedy out towards the front door as it flew open. Xander came in, chest heaving, hair slicked with sweat and pasted to his forehead in a messy array. Kennedy turned and saw him looking around excitedly.

Almost in perfect synchronicity with his entrance, Willow came downstairs, holding in her hand an empty glass which she was bent on refilling. She stopped when she saw him, just at the bottom of the stairs, and smiled. He smiled back then looked into the living room.

"I um…I heard we have visitors," he said, and then smiled at Willow. She smiled wide and laughed.

It was her laugh that took Kennedy's attention. Willow turned and headed into the kitchen, Kennedy felt her body go tense and relax all at once. Her breath caught, and all she could do was watch intently as Willow's body rounded the curve on its path into the kitchen.

Her skin was soft and almost untouched by the sun, but without that tacit porcelain effect of lifelessness. Instead it made her brilliant hair and her vibrant eyes so beautiful that to pull away caused an uncomfortable churning in Kennedy's belly. So she didn't look away. She looked over every inch of Willow that she was willing to expose, which at the moment was a generous amount. Her shorts were the type that stated 'athletic' but were really for the nights when it's really hot and you need something to wear. Her top was a lighter shade of blue, and clung to her body as if each inch of her was desirable to cotton, and was caressed as such. Kennedy thought about the jacket she'd worn today and how not warm she'd felt in it. She smiled, as did Buffy.

Willow's eyes settled on Kennedy's and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She could tell that Kennedy's eyes had looked over her, and she could feel the electricity her body was emitting as a result. Willow's body was drawn to it, and the pangs of guilt and pain that accompanied the attraction were pushed aside by what she could only imagine was raw desire. She stopped a few feet from Kennedy, smiling at Buffy.

"Xander is here," Willow said with a smile, and Buffy motioned to Kennedy, whose back was to her. Willow's eyes went to Kennedy, who she felt had not taken her eyes off of her body since she'd walked in.

"Hi," Willow's attempt at casual friendliness was a valiant one. Buffy coughed a little.

"Well, I'm going to go make sure he isn't…touching any…one." She said and walked past the two, watching Kennedy carefully. Though Kennedy didn't look to Buffy, Buffy new that she'd seen the look. When Buffy left, Willow stood in front of Kennedy for only a split second before speeding by her to the fridge.

"So, you must feel relieved—getting her safe n' sound," Willow said lightly, and headed to the counter, watching her hands intently as they prepared to pour her a cup of juice. Kennedy headed over next to her, hands still firmly in her pockets.

"Uh huh," she let out as she admired the witch's legs in the stance they held. Willow glanced back at her, and seeing those gorgeous eyes watching her legs so intently her composure nearly broke. Unsure of what to do, her hand flitted across the counter in a grab for the juice carton and in her nervousness the cap went reeling to the ground, clicking as it bounced off the tiled floor then landing next to Willow.

"I've got it," Kennedy declared quickly and kneeled down to retrieve the purple piece of plastic. Instantly she knew that this was not the best idea. As she kneeled, she realized that she was so close to the beautifully flawless flesh she'd been captivated by at a distance that her body sent hot bolts of electricity surging through her body. Her eyes closed for a moment in an attempt to silently stomach the intensity. A feeling of that magnitude wasn't one she'd ever achieved without help. Letting out a heavy breath, she looked up through her eyelashes to see Willow watching her with a mixture of fear and excitement. Kennedy's eyes traveled back to her enticing calves, then to her sultry thighs, then as she stood up, her eyes made their way slowly, as they took in so much beauty so closely.

Willow's chest was thrusting quickly in an attempt to calm her heart. As a result her body was shaky and her hand gripped the edge of the counter to stay afloat amidst the sea of sensation. She saw Kennedy's body straighten and meet hers, and she saw the space between them being closed to a negative thereof. She felt their tongues swell at their meeting, and their breath, hot and damp, only add to the intensity of this first encounter.

Kennedy set the purple cap on the counter, and Willow was brought back to reality. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was hoping Kennedy would take it as embarrassment and she smiled thinly as she regained herself.

"Thank you," she said breathily and Kennedy nodded, keeping the suffocating space between them. She smiled and Willow did the same. There was a moment, eyes locked, when Kennedy was sure she saw something in the eyes of her living fantasy. Something, not sinister but angry; rage, not towards her, but directed inward at the witch herself.

"Are you okay?" Kennedy was surprised at how concerned she felt, and likewise sounded. Willow looked away then back to her and nodded.

"Yes, I'm fine," she managed unconvincingly. Kennedy opened her mouth to say something, but before she could form words, she heard shouting from the other room, and loud crashes coming from all over the house at once. She did the first thing her mind, she tossed both herself and Willow onto the floor, sheltering both of them from the splintering wood and shattering glass that appeared to be flying everywhere.

In a time of chaos there is no time to act, only react.