Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer was Created by Joss Whedon and is property of many companies but not me. The Walking Dead was created by Robert Kirkman and the show, which is the world I am referencing in this, is shared with Production Creators Frank Darabont and Angela Kang.

Arthur's Note: Last chapter ended 6 months from beginning of season 3, just for point of reference, this is about 2 weeks later. Thank you for the reviews, Anon and chaoswizard, much appreciated Sorry this was delayed, busy season but wanted this up by the New Year.

[17]

Eat, spar, eat, tiny tyke training with the G-Man, eat, spar, eat –"Everything ok?."

Faith ripped the pilfered jerky straight from the pack, staring down the man who questioned her eating habits, "I have a need. And this is going to have to do." Beads of sweat pouring down her neck and shoulders, she took a quick swig of water before ripping the wrapping further down the crinkled slim jim.

Arms folding, Robin's lips pulled down in thought, "Is there something on your mind? I mean, I can keep up fine but the others are starting to talk about you. Even the triathlete thinks going at this pace could be rough on you." When she didn't reply he rubbed to the left of his brow, along the outside of his face, "Meditation might help if being cooped up this long is beginning to get to you." His own head was covered in a thin sheen from their session, and he reached back down he pulled a bottle of his own from the open case against the wall.

Faith watched him swallow, the muscles in his neck working the drink down and forced herself to look down at the sodium rich morsel and sighed, "Nah, that shit don't work for me. Just stir crazy."

Thick brows raised in question and she rolled her eyes, "Before this," shaking the bottle, fidgeting, she smacked her hands against the plastic, "way before this, I did some time. I mean, I did some mental time too for a period, I was out but then when I got back on my feet, not long after that…" She gestured a door closing and he understood.

Turning around to lean against the table Faith had sat on, Robin settled in, "Something happen on a patrol? A bystander?"

The twitch at the corner of her mouth did not escape his keen gaze but she shook her head denying, "We don't know need to get into it but … I deserved it."

The outside of his cheek dimpled where he chewed, "How long?"

Nails scraping the back of her neck, red lines appeared on the sensitive skin, vulnerable with perspiration, "Few years." At his imploring, her head cocked to the side gesturing to where she believed Giles was in the building at this time of day, "Don't worry, they had someone better than me taking care of things."

"But the Slayer-"

"The Slayer was out, taking care of the Big Bads and holding down an older Hellmouth than this."

"So it's true, the rumors about there being two."

Nodding, Faith reached back, feeling the coolness where the small marks had already faded, "Yep, for a time. Me and B." Her gaze drifted, and the memory was swept away, "Anyway, being forced to stay in one place and me..." She shook her head, looking out to the snow barely visible through the frosted panes, "Thanks though."

The room kept quiet until the jingling of bells rang briefly off the walls, "Sounds like they're packing up."

"Yeah, oh yeah, the girls loved it." The celebration had been a surprise, no tree but plenty of greenery on the windows with bells tied along the limbs, "It was honestly the last thing on my mind."

[Break]

"Do the chickens lay eggs all year?" bundled up, the girl's question came out in a puff of dragon breath in the early morning air. While there had not been any snow fall in the last week, the surrounding landscape was still white, the temperature refusing to let even the ice melt.

"Of course," looking back at the two women, the boy's earlobes were bright red under the edges of his cap and he grinned, snickering, "What else are they going to do?"

Shutting the hatch over the coop, Patricia made quick work of the flurries on her hands, clapping her gloves together to prevent them from getting wet, "Mind your manners, Carl. Just cause their chickens doesn't mean there are always going to be eggs." Looking at the basket her assistant held, the woman saw why she might be wondering and gestured to her, "Let me see that."

Supporting the whicker by its bottom, Sophia showed off the small clutch of eggs and Carl watched the blonde as she assessed them. Before the boy could ask, Patricia gestured them forward, "Come on, let's get in."

The two youths beat her to the house, Carl waiting for her after Sophia had gone inside, opening the door again as she passed him by with a quick thanks. Inside, Maggie was stoking a fire, pitchers lined up on the counter behind her at the sink, one already set under the tap with the faucet set with the flow open. The pipes groaned with the sound of pumping and as Sophia separated out those that needed to be dry and wet washed, water finally gushed out.

Carl dashed around the counter to switch out the pitchers as Maggie stood up, smoke moving up the chute, "Thanks." Hands dirty she rubbed them down the sides of her jeans, watching as Sophia worked, noticing the proficiency she had over her first few days determining the need. Pouring herself water into the assigned basin, she joined the young girl,

"You're getting good at the that." Thin shoulders straightened with pride at the compliment, sneakers hooking behind the stool's legs,

"It's not so hard, I can feel the difference in the bloom now."

"Look at you!" The mix of their laughs warmed the kitchen, conversation carrying through the morning. The last pitcher was drawn out from under the tap just a Patricia went out to let whoever was at the pump under the house know they could stop. By the time she came back in the water had stopped, Carl not turning the handle until the last drop was gone. By the time Lori woke, breakfast was made, and the milk brigade was returning up the hill.

"Smells good," she looked for her son but found him missing from the kitchen, "Kids already eat?" Mouth full, Beth swallowed quickly to reply when Tara turned with a plate already rationed,

"Carl had both his eggs and peaches, don't worry."

Lori let out a breath of relief, the first few weeks they had all been happy to have just about anything but once they had a steady food supply again, some of her son's peckish habits had resurfaced, "Good, don't want to see anything go to waste now that we have it."

"Picking out the vegetables for dinner worked. Maybe we should let them choose the fruit in the morning?" Offering another solution, Beth grabbed the sponge out of the soapy water in the sink and washed off her plate as soon as she was finished, letting it air dry with everyone else's.

Lori frowned, already seated in Beth's empty spot, "No, better keep something for a rainy day." Sighing she lifted the first fork full, blanching at the taste and pushing through, both the other women watching her,

"Is it really that bad?"

Lori shook her head at Beth, "No, it was the same with Carl. Something about eggs and meat." Pulverizing the eggs and peaches into mash, she tried another bite more palatable then the first and gestured with her free hand, "Just as a something to look forward to in the future, you aren't going to want to eat either."

Beth's brows rose, looking over at Tara for confirmation who nodded, "It's true. My mom was vegetarian when she carried me. All her protein came from plants, oatmeal and tofu."

Lori perked up a bit, "That sounds good, have we seen any?"

Tara turned to look through the cupboards though they had gone through their inventory several times, "No, I don't think so." Across the room, Beth moved to go through the pantry, shaking her head as well.

Arms crossing, Beth leaned against the small entryway where the other goods were stored, "Maybe the guys could go out, see if there are any places they haven't found yet?"

Out the window, the wind kicked up the snow along the pane and the mom-to-be's shoulders dropped, "It can wait." Tara swept the plate away before she could move to wash it herself, the thin woman smiling in thanks, "better get used to letting any cravings go. Won't be sending Rick out for 4AM ice cream this time."

[Break]

Securing the tarp back over the wood pile, Maggie pulled the rope tight and shifted one of the cast iron chair's legs back onto the edge of the material to keep it from rising with any wind. Hidden behind the house, the red brick patio was sectioned off from the immediate yard by black cast iron fixtures, a section of brick built up in a ring several inches higher than the rest in the center of it. Maggie sighed as Glenn passed the fire pit by with arms still laden with split wood, "You think we're ever going to get to use it?"

Glenn cast the unused area a glance but kept walking, "Saving the wood for inside is one of the few things they agree on… I'm sure come Spring they'll reconsider."

Looking back, the woman considered the trees further out from the house, "We could cut more."

"Oh, we will," T-Dog leaned forward on his elbows under the carport, boots laced tight, jacket zipped close over another hoodie. "They started talking about the supply soon as you brought in the first batch." Thick fingers in worn gloves, he rubbed them together, "Want us to make sure we don't let it under half in case a big front comes in now that we don't have an idea of the forecast."

Lips pulling to the side, Maggie's teeth clenched tight, "Daddy had the almanac memorized, could've told us the next few years." When Glenn's hand ran up her back, consoling, she fought the instinctive need to jerk away and instead sighed, moving back into him after a moment, "Guess we can keep an eye out for one. Might be one tucked away somewhere."

"Any chance there might've been one back on the farm?"

Maggie shook her head, "It was in the living room, by one of the windows in the front. There's no way it made it."

T-Dog shook his head, material scraping along the short hair unshaven along his scalp. Gesturing them to join him, Glenn finally set down the stack he held, sliding a few splintered sections under the grate as they sat down,

"What about the flues?" Overhead, only one of the chimneys was running, the temperature difference slowing the dissipation as it wafted into the air.

"Shane checked them all this morning. Says they seem ok so far, but it'll be good when the weather lets us clean them."

Maggie folded her arms, leaning back in the chair, reaching for one of the blankets they had left, "Easier now that we have the rods."

[Break]

The dead men moved at an even pace with the woman ahead of them, empty gaze following the rise and fall of her dark shoulders as she traversed the changing landscape. They walked in silence, led from place to place, only stopping at night. Their leader rarely wandered until recently, tonight another presence drawing to them in her absence. Though the figure moved toward them with purpose they did not sway his way, hungry but unable to feed, and his body was as dead as theirs though his eyes were still bright with awareness.

Spike stared at the rotters, chained to the tree in the small camp, fire only embers enough to see by. He had become aware of a person in the area a few nights ago, though he suspected they may have been in proximity before that, when he had found 3 sets of footprints seemingly tracking some of his own. Suspecting they may have been part of The Living, he had continued on as though he had not noticed anything amiss but slowed his pace through the past few evenings until the hour before dawn to ensure his resting place would be well hidden. The scent of dead though had been overlapping and now he could see why, cursing softly.

A heartbeat, blood pumping under warm skin, he felt the life creeping up behind him and spoke before they cleared the camp, "I'd keep that blade down unless you want to be on the other end of it." Turning around, he saw the blade drawn, body still poised mid walk in a low crouch with dark eyes watching him and he was drawn back to a bus in the 80's for a moment, image of one woman imposed over the other. With a blink the memory was gone, and it was just the two of them, "There a reason you're tailing me?"

The surrounding woodland made more of a reply than she did and Spike snorted, shaking his head, nodding back to her companions rather than taking his eyes off her, "Well then mind explaining these?"

Still, the woman was silent, and Spike shifted from one boot to the other, damning his developed conscious from arguing against making quick work of her, "If you've nothing to say then sod off." Stepping sideways, eyes on her, he moved to fall back into the shadows when she stepped forward,

"You saved those women the other night."

Brow raising, the pale figure looked back at her, "Yeah, what of it?" He continued to see through her, "You don't look much like part of that lot."

The sword shifted in her grip, blade illuminated as it swung, "No, I wasn't." Studying him she watched for his patience until it thinned and then gestured him to join her, decision made.