Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and near the end of the first episode of Season 2 for The walking Dead.
A/N: My character in this story is a Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks. I'm taking some artistic license as far as the order of events in this episode. Not too much, but a little. This chapter is pretty long, and full of dialog. I promise there will be Zombie Thrashing Action!tm in the future. There are some details about certain guns, but I'm explaining once, and never again. Shane is still wearing last season's pants because they were so bad they have to be ragged on by my uppity Slayer!
Rating: M- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;)
Livvie ran. She hadn't run like this since she was in Sunnydale before the Final Battle. It took a real desperate need to make a person run as hard as they could, and she was desperate to help Carl. He was such a sweet boy, and he had been so nice to her. She didn't want Rick and his wife to have to go through the pain of losing a child. She wished no one would have to go through such pain, but it was a daily occurrence in this new world.
She had made it to Carl just as he hit the ground. Rick was right behind her, and Shane took up a position to cover them. Livvie had ripped off her bag, and frantically searched for bandages. She had a bed sheet she had torn to pieces, and she took out the biggest piece in the bundle to make a compress. Rick was frantic beside her as he secured a belt around his son to hold the bandage in place.
A man came running towards them, bewildered at the sudden tragic turn of events. "I didn't see him," the man cried. "I've been tracking that Buck for miles, and I had no idea the boy was behind it!"
Rick looked ready to rip the man's heart out with his bare hands. He couldn't speak, but the snarling noise he made was enough to get the man to step back.
"Look," said the man. "I know someone you can take him to. They're in a farmhouse not too far from here! Tell them Otis sent you, and they'll help your boy! It's that way," he cried gesturing off toward his right.
Livvie nodded and stood up. She took off her coat, and draped it over her bag, before she gave them to Otis. "Carry these," she said briskly. "You have any better directions then just 'that way,'" she asked.
"It's just straight in that direction!" said Otis. "You'll hit some fields, and then a fence, and the house is right there! Can't miss it! Ask for Hershel! Tell 'im Otis sent ya'! I'll be right behind ya!"
Rick had Carl in his arms, and was preparing to take off. Livvie stopped him, and tried to take Carl. "No," seethed Rick. "Get out of my way! He's my son! I'll take care of him!"
"I can run faster and farther than you, Rick." Said Livvie. "I'll get him there much faster than you, with a much smoother ride." She looked into his eyes, and pleaded with him. "Trust me."
"Nah! You're insane! Run Rick! Hurry!" yelled Shane.
Rick looked into Livvie's eyes, and saw the complete conviction there. The absolute belief that she would get Carl to help faster. In his gut he believed her, and even though it had been wrong in the past, he had a feeling that this was what he needed to do. It had been less than two minutes since Carl was shot, and Rick handed his world over to Livvie. The look in his eyes told her what it was costing him to do this, and she was determined not to let him down.
Livvie took the child gently, yet swiftly. She secured him to her chest with both arms, took a breath, and started swiftly walking. Her speed picked up as her body adjusted to the extra cumbersome weight. Seconds later she was just a blur disappearing off into the woods.
Rick took off after her as fast as he could, but he couldn't even see her anymore. That she could move that fast was astounding, but right now he was only grateful. He heard Shane and Otis huffing behind him as they hurried after Livvie and his son.
Livvie ran smoothly, jumping over logs, roots, and rocks without jostling her precious cargo. Her breath was coming in fast gasps as she pushed her body to the limit. Finally the house came into view. She saw a woman on the porch with binoculars watching her and Carl's approach. As she was coming up on the fence the woman turned back to the house for a moment, and instead of wasting time Livvie leapt over it in one stride.
A white haired man rushed down the stairs from the porch. "Is he bit?" he cried out.
"Hershel, I need Hershel!" cried Livvie.
"Is he bit?" The man roared back at her.
"No! He's shot! Otis sent us here ahead of him! Please help him!" she pleaded.
"Otis?" asked Hershel.
"It was an accident! Your man shot him! Just please help him!" said Livvie.
"Alright then," said Hershel. "Bring him into the house."
Livvie rushed after Hershel. What happened next was a big blur. Hershel barked out orders, people ran hurriedly hither and yon, and then Rick, Shane, and Otis crashed through the door. It took them at least ten minutes from the time Livvie had arrived with Carl to get there. Livvie pointed towards the room she had taken Carl into, and Rick rushed past her. Otis was beside himself. Everything was chaos.
Livvie didn't know what to do here. The extent of her medical knowledge consisted of patching up herself, and/or fellow Slayers after a fight. With Slayer healing she knew the procedures were different for them than with normal people. There wasn't anything for her to fight here. There was nothing she could do.
Livvie went to get some water. When she had drunk her fill she got some for Rick. She had heard the Doctor say he would need to donate blood, and it could only hurt if Rick was dehydrated. With the heat, and the running she knew he could use some water. She had to force him to drink it. He only did after she convinced him he could give more blood if he kept hydrated.
She planned to get on his ass as soon as he started giving blood with as much food and liquids she could rustle up. Carl needed a lot of blood, and Rick needed to do everything he could to get his body to make more red blood cells fast as soon as he started donating.
"I'm going to wait outside. I'm no good at patching people up." She paused thoughtfully. "Now, violence? Violence is my thing. You need me to take down some Walkers, and watch your back? I'm your girl. But, I'll just be, you know, outside." She finished, as she walked out of the room.
Livvie finally noticed the blood covering her. Her shirts were soaked through. She noticed her bag, and coat near the door, and asked someone where she could clean up. There was an old water pump outside, and she shed her shirts to wash the blood off her body. She kept her bra on since, miraculously, it hadn't gotten any blood on it, and for the sake of modesty. When she was finished, she used her towel to dry off, and put on another top. She spent the next few minutes rinsing out her bloody clothes. She wrung them out and hung them on some tree branches nearby to dry.
By the time she got back inside, Rick was already giving blood. She went to the kitchen to try and find some food for him. Turn's out Patricia, Otis' girlfriend, was on it though.
"Need any help?" Livvie asked.
"No, I've got it," said the woman. "I heard how vehement you were about Rick gettin' fuel to help him make more blood. You're right, and as this is our fault I'll see to Rick."
"Thank you," said Livvie.
The next thing Livvie heard was Carl screaming bloody murder. She couldn't take it. She rushed out of the house and stood in the front yard trying to gain her bearings. She felt the overwhelming need to kill something. What in the nine hells was she even doing here? She helped get the boy to help, now she should leave. There was nothing else she could do for him.
But her feet just wouldn't move. She heard a nicker in the distance, and turned toward it. There was a stable. She could smell, and hear the horses now. She called to Maggie that she would be in the stable, and got a "Yup," shouted back to her. She slowly moved toward them as if she was being pulled. Over the next twenty minutes or so she petted and talked to the horses. There were four, and before long her talking had degenerated into cooing, and her urge to kill was subsiding.
"Yes," she simpered. "You're such a pretty girl, aren't you? Aren't you? Who's a pretty horsey?"
"Nicker, Snort" said the horse.
"Yes," she continued adoringly. "Yes, you are."
Suddenly she heard an engine start, and tires moving away from the house. Livvie rushed out to see what was going on. An old blue truck was speeding down the dirt road. She squinted, and could she Otis, and Shane in the truck. Where were they going? To get 'Lori'?
"Where are they going?" she shouted as she reached Patricia, Hershel, and Rick.
"To the High School, to get some medical supplies." Said Rick.
Livvie growled as she ran after the truck as fast as she could. "Wait!" she screamed. "Don't leave me here! You need me!" She stopped when she realized she wouldn't catch them. She turned and stormed back to the house.
"Rick Grimes!" she shouted. "You stupid, arogant, ignorant, selfish man! What did I just say about Walkers? Huh? You need Walkers put down? That's me! That's what I do!" she pointed to herself with short jabs at her chest. "You sent those boys out there to get through hundreds of Walker's by themselves? That's what I do! I could have helped them! Hell, I've been sneaking in and out of places overrun with Walkers since this started, and I've not a scratch to show for it! Are you and Shane so Misogynistic you didn't even think to ask for my help? Did you think I was lying about the violence thing? That I just have all these weapons strapped to me for show? What is wrong with you?" she clenched her fists to keep from shoving the asshat.
Rick held his hands up in surrender. "You're just a young girl. You would have been in the way, and gotten them hurt because they were lookin' out for you." He said softly.
Livvie let out a furious yell, and started storming across the yard toward the forest.
"Livvie!" Rick yelled after her. "Get back here! It's not safe out there on your own!"
Livvie spun on her heel, and stomped back to the arrogant prick. "I've been 'on my own' ever since this started!" she stated in a low growl. "I've been fighting in a war against creatures that would make you piss you pants, and run screaming for your mommy. Every! Damn! Day! Since I was thirteen! In that whole time I got six months leave! Six months of peace, in three and a half years of war! And then the Walkers came! I've been fighting them; fighting to save people since this started! Every day! Alone! Don't you fucking DARE tell me I'm not safe on my own. That I would be a burden to Shane and Otis! I've seen more action, than everyone here combined! If anyone should have gone to get medical supplies it should have been me!" Livvie panted and tried to calm down. The people in front of her, Rick, Hershel, and Patricia, were staring at her with fear plain on their faces. She tried to reel in her Slayer self, she could feel it peeking out through her eyes. Maggie had come out of the house, and stood frozen on the porch staring at Livvie.
"I'm outta here! Maybe I'll run into the others in your group. Hopefully they are less insultingly patriarchal." Livvie turned to start towards the forest again. She paused after only a couple of steps, and said ever her shoulder. "Don't take this as a sign Rick. What happened to Carl has nothing to do with God." She started forward again.
She was about halfway to the trees when Maggie rode up beside her. "Need a ride?" she asked.
"Yes, please," said Livvie. Maggie leaned down and took her hand, and on three, helped Livvie swing up to mount the horse behind her.
"Hold on!" said Maggie. Then they took off. Livvie was surprised at the speed, but quickly adjusted to the rhythm of the running horse. They saw a couple walkers on the way, and Maggie reached for her bat.
Livvie stopped her, and yelled into her ear, "I've got it!" She pulled her SIG SAUER® P226® Tactical Operations 9mm semi automatic pistol, with a twenty round magazine (hollow point), and suppressor attached, and popped off two shots putting down both Walkers as they flew past.
Maggie looked at Livvie briefly over her shoulder, both eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.
"What? I told you guys: This is what I do!" defended Livvie. They rode. For how long Livvie didn't know, but she was loving the feeling of freedom riding gave her.
Then she suddenly heard screaming in the distance. It sounded like a woman, or maybe an effeminate man. Hey, you never knew! Some men she had heard screaming in the past couple of months sounded like little girls. There was nothing like the prospect of being eaten alive to make a man shed his cherished masculinity.
Maggie suddenly started riding with a purpose, and Livvie realized she was just now hearing the screaming. This time Livvie let Maggie pull her bat, and take aim at the Walker. The Walker had a woman by her legs, as she tried desperately to kick at it to free herself. Maggie lined up the shot, and BAM! It was good! The Walker tumbled to the ground, and Livvie gave Maggie an encouraging pat on the back, and then hopped off of the horse to go check on the woman. Maggie singled out Lori, and off they flew. Lori didn't look nearly as good on a horse as Maggie did. She'd be sore beyond belief when she got off of it, if she rode the whole way bouncing around like that.
Livvie helped the woman to her feet.
"Who the hell are you?" asked a filthy man. A filthy built man. With a crossbow. Livvie bit her lip. The percentage of men she knew that she considered 'Fuckable' had just gone from 0% to: Thank You Goddess!
"Guhhh!" moaned the Walker.
"Shut up!" said the Redneck as her fired his crossbow. One handed. Without really looking. And hit it square in the head. The Walker slumped to the ground unmoving. Livvie bit her lip till she tasted blood. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, and soothed it with her tongue until it stopped bleeding.
"I asked you a question!" yelled the man.
Livvie pulled herself together, and cleared her throat. "Yeah, uh, hi!" she said awkwardly. "I'm Olivia McKinley. I met Rick, Carl, and Shane about an hour before Carl was hurt. They were bringing me back here to apologize for ruining my Walker trap. I was going to help look for Sophia, your missing person? Have you guys found her?" she asked.
"Not yet," barked the Redneck.
"Walker trap?" asked a young Asian man.
"The church bells," said Livvie. "I hauled a generator, and fuel out there, to the middle of nowhere, to set that trap and then you guys just waltzed in and wrecked 12 hours of hard work."
Everyone looked over at the Asian. "Hey," he said defensively. "How was I supposed to know? I just wanted it to stop so Walkers wouldn't follow the sound to us!"
Livvie raised one eyebrow at him. "What?" he said. She raised the other. "Oh, right! That was the trap!" he looked down to the ground.
"Are you all right, honey?" an older woman with shorn grey hair said to the blond who had been attacked.
"I'll be fine, Carol." She said shakily. "I really could have used my gun just then, that's all."
Carol nodded, then turned to Livvie. "I'm Carol," she began. "This is Glenn," she gestured to the Asian man. "Andrea," to the blond. "And Daryl." The dirty, dirty, man.
"Nice to meet you," Livvie said. "Please, call me Livvie."
Livvie rustled in her bag for a moment, and then pulled a small black and pink gun out, and handed it to Andrea. "Here," she said. "Until you can get your gun back. No one should be out here unarmed." Andrea inspected the weapon, noticing it was engraved with little vines and white flowers, and looked back at Livvie curiously.
"It's a SIG Sauer Mosquito, with .22 LR subsonic bullets. It's not as loud as regular gun, and sure as hell quieter than Rick's revolver, or Shane's big gauge. The safety's on and you've got ten rounds, including the one in the chamber. I've also got a suppressor for it, but we'll deal with that later." Explained Livvie.
Andrea raised her eyebrows at Livvie, and she cleared her throat sheepishly. "I found it in the passengers seat of a posh convertible. Apparently it belonged to a mob princess, and her daddy got it engraved for her. If you think that's something, wait till you see the silencer! I've never been able to bring myself to use it, it's way to girly for me, so it's yours if you want it!"
"Thank you," said Andrea bitterly. "At least someone cares if I get eaten by Walkers. But, isn't a .22 a really small bullet? Is it big enough to put down a Walker?"
"Au, contraire Madame! A .22 is a magic bullet!" Livvie walked over to Glenn, and motioned to his hat. "May I?" she asked.
Glenn shrugged and handed it over. "Sure," he said.
"Now," said Livvie. "I learned this from some crime show, but I'm pretty sure it's accurate." She turned the hat over and gestured to the inside. "Imagine this is a human skull. When a .22 is fired into the skull, and I suggest," she looked at Andrea. "that you aim for the eyes, just below the bridge of the nose, or the temples." Livvie looked back at the others. "The momentum is slowed down so the bullet doesn't have enough force to punch through the other side of the skull." She pointed to an imaginary 'entry' point, and across to the other side of the hat. "But it still has enough force to keep moving. Seeing as how it is cadged in a convex environment, it ricochets," she made her finger bounce in an angle from the impact point on the 'skull,' and move across to ricochet again at a different angle. "And as long as it has momentum, it keeps ricocheting, over and over, " her finger moved in crazy patterns showing the path of the imaginary bullet. "Thus chopping up the brain, quite sufficiently, and causing more than enough damage to kill a Walker!" she smiled up at everyone happily. "See? Magic bullet!" she exclaimed.
The people around her seemed sufficiently impressed, as Livvie handed Glenn back his hat.
"Alright then," said Andrea. She then turned and walked off, after tucking the gun in the back of her pants.
"This way," said Carol. "We're on our way back to the rest of our group."
They all trooped off with Dirty Man, or well Daryl, taking up the rear. There was some commotion at first, with Andrea storming off to the RV, and the old man wondering what was going on. Livvie learned his name was Dale, and that 'T-Dog' was sick.
She explained that Carl getting shot was a hunting accident, and that she didn't know if Carl would make it or not. "And it was driving me crazy," she told them. "I couldn't do anything there, and the men decided I shouldn't go help get medical supplies by not telling me they were leaving until after they were already gone, and I just needed to get out of there."
There was a discussion on who was going to the farm, and what to do about finding Sophia. Everyone but Glenn was going to stay, continue looking, and make a sign in case she made it back on her own.
"Why do I always have to go," complained Glenn.
"There's no choice," exclaimed Dale. "Someone has to take T-Dog to the farm. His arm has gotten really bad, and he has a serious blood infection. We have to get him some antibiotics or he's dead! No joke," he finished.
Dirty Daryl headed off to a motorcycle, and dug out a bag of medication. This was 'Merle's Stash,' apparently. As Daryl was walking away after a sarcastic Chlamydia comment, *shudder*, Livvie decided to put her two cents in. "I don't suppose you have any weed in there?" she asked.
"Merle wasn't the weed type," scoffed Daryl.
"What do you want weed for?" asked Glenn.
Livvie looked at him from where she had settled against the windshield of a car. "Frankie says relax," she pontificated. Everyone around her either looked clueless, or confused as to what Frankie Goes to Hollywood had to do with anything. "I need to relax! I'm seriously jumpy after working all that time on a trap, and then not getting to kill any Walkers. Except the two I shot on the way out here, but I haven't had a good brawl in far too long." she sighed and let her head fall back to the windshield with a thump. "I need a good kill, in the worst way."
Everyone was confused still, but they shook it off with a concerned look, and started to help Glenn get ready to leave with T-Dog.
"How old are you anyway?" asked Carol. "What's your story?"
"Heh," Livvie said amused, as she jumped off of the car to face everyone. "Why does everyone ask me how old I am? It doesn't really matter anymore does it? How old I am doesn't matter, as much as what I can do. And I can help you guys. Kicking ass, taking names, and saving people is what I do. I've been training for it since I was four years old! Hell, I spent three months in Israel when I was twelve learning from The Mossad! Does it matter how old I am when my being here ups your chances of survival significantly? I'm old enough to kill Walkers, that's all that should matter!"
"Whoa, touchy subject," mumbled Andrea.
"Yeah, well I'm sick of people looking at me like I'm a stupid child! Anyone who can survive this shit storm on their own, like I've been doing, deserves some respect and consideration! I'm smart enough to fight, to set up a Walker trap in a church, including wiring the whole building with C4, and I didn't blow myself up! My opinion should matter! Age can't be measured in years anymore! Only in experiences! And I've experienced enough in my lifetime to deserve being treated as an equal here!" Livvie raged.
"The boys got to you didn't they?" asked Andrea. Livvie looked at her questioningly. "Rick, and Shane. The only guy in our camp who doesn't treat us like idiotic liabilities, ironically enough, is Daryl."
Livvie rubbed her face roughly, then placed her hands on her hips. "Shane went to get some medical supplies at the local High School, with the man that shot Carl. I saw it a couple days ago, and it's swarming with Walkers. I coulda gotten in there easier than them, maybe come up with a plan. I've been told that I'm a tactical genius." She huffed a short sarcastic laugh. "I told them I couldn't help with medical stuff, but if they needed help with Walkers to tell me. I went outside for some fresh air, and ended up hanging out with the horses in the barn. Next thing I know I hear a truck taking off. Rick told me I was just a young girl, that would get them killed if I went along! They didn't even tell me anything! It's the 'Good Old Boys,' club post apocalypse! It's ridiculous!"
"Tell me about it," said Andrea as she looked at Dale.
"Oh, right," said Livvie. "Here," she dug into her bag and pulled out a small wooden box, and handed it to Andrea. "There's an instruction manual in the lid, cleaning stuff, and bullets in the bottom. You'll see the suppressor right on top there when you open it."
"What?" asked Dale. "What's going on? Are you giving her a gun? No!"
"No?" asked Livvie. "You want Andrea to die that badly, huh? She was almost just Walkers food, and you think she shouldn't have a gun?"
"No, of course not!" exclaimed Dale. "The reason I don't want her to have a gun, is because I'm afraid she'll shoot herself!"
Both of Livvie's eyebrow went up. Carol gave her a quick run down of the 'CDC Incident,' and what had happened to Andrea's gun.
"I still don't see why she shouldn't have a gun," said Livvie. "There is a huge difference between giving up, and letting yourself die, and shooting yourself." She looked hard at Dale. "Think about it! If she had stayed in the CDC, she would have just had to sit there, and it would have been over. To shoot herself she would need to think about it a lot more, and then make herself actively do it. From what I saw in the woods just now, Andrea is actively fighting to stay alive! And keeping her weapon from her is tantamount to homicide in this situation! You don't know everything Old Man, and you have no right to keep her property from her!" she said. "Just cause we're women it doesn't make us stupid, and we have a right to defend ourselves, just like everyone else."
Livvie turned to Andrea. "You keep that, even if you do get your gun back. It's almost silent with the suppressor, so you don't have to worry about attracting more Walkers when your trying to defend yourself."
Andrea nodded, "Thank you, Livvie."
Livvie looked back at the whole group. "You all have to start thinking differently," she asserted. "An unarmed person, a person who doesn't know how to defend themselves, is a liability to the rest of you. It doesn't matter what gender you are, or how old you are, you have to learn to protect yourself and others. You have to learn how to handle yourself in dangerous situations. Not just against Walkers. There are people out there who prey on the weak, and they'd smell this group's vulnerability from a mile away. They won't care that you are trying to protect your women and children by denying them life saving weapons and training, they'll just swoop in here, take everything you have, rape your precious women and children in front of you, and walk away laughing about how easy it was!" she shouted.
"Now wait just a minute!" called Dale. "We've been doing just fine so far! Who are you to come in here and criticize us like this!"
"Really? You've been doing 'just fine?'" Livvie said. "How many were in your group to start with, huh? How many have you lost to the Walkers? More than half, from what I've heard! And as for 'who I am,' I am a reality check! I am here to kick you all in your asses, and get you in shape to survive! You've been bumbling around, without a clue in the world for too long now! You are still here because of pure dumb luck! That's it! And Daryl, from what I've heard! If everyone of your people can't defend themselves and the group they are useless to you! They are already dead! They're just waiting for a Walker to attack them when the big brave men aren't there, and then that's it! Game Over!
"The world has changed, and if you all can't adapt to that change, then it's only a matter of time until death catches up with you. I can teach you guys how to survive if you want me to. There is no room in this world for those who can't fight to live. Everything else you are, everything else you have to offer doesn't mean a thing if you huddle on the ground crying during an attack while the rest of the group has to split their attention between protecting you and themselves. Watching each others' backs in a fight is one thing, but working to protect those who sit around fretting in a crisis is useless, and dangerous, for everyone." Livvie finished her tirade, breathing heavily. It was her emotions that were stealing her breath. She had seen so many good people die, when they didn't have to! Just a little bit of effort, and they could have saved themselves!
"I would be willing to learn how to protect my daughter, of course, but I don't want her fighting Walkers! She's only twelve!" said Carol.
"Would you rather have Sophia learn how to fight Walkers, or end up being eaten alive by Walkers because she didn't know what to do, and you couldn't reach her in time? I can appreciate that you want to keep her innocent, and let her be a child for as long as possible, but she already lost her innocence when the world ended. Helping her learn to defend herself can only help her to feel more safe, and help you feel more secure during the next crisis. Don't fool yourself thinking that there won't be another crisis either! That's all that is left now; Challenge after challenge; Crisis after crisis. This is our lives, and trying to pretend other wise, lying to yourself and your child, is only going to make you both easier to kill." Livvie said. "Women can't afford to be weak, and let the men handle the 'heavy lifting' anymore. We all have to start from a place of competence, and then develop skills in different areas to become functioning tribes now."
"Tribe," scoffed Daryl. "We ain't no Tribe, lady!"
"Well, what else would you call it?" asked Livvie. "Not a village. Village infers that you have a stationary, functioning home. Not a family. There's too much division to call you that. A Tribe is a social group, made up of numerous families, or generations or a group of persons having a common character, or interest, like survival for instance, whole in and of itself regardless of location. So yeah, I'd class this group as a tribe."
Glenn and T-Dog had driven off during the argument.
Livvie sighed deeply. "Look, I didn't mean to go off on you guys like that. I'm just really wound up, and I'm sick of seeing good people die because they couldn't let go of the ways of Before." She said. "I'm going to look for a ride now. I need to find something and fix it up, so I can go get my things." No one said anything as Livvie walked away.
"She's it, you know," said Andrea, after several moments of silence. "She's our chance. What we've been praying, and begging for. That girl can help us survive this, if we let her."
Silence surrounded them, only broken up by the peaceful chirping of crickets, as they thought about Livvie, and what she could mean for them.
A/N: In case anyone is interested in what Livvie looks like: I see her as Phoebe Tonkin (Faye in the CW TV show 'The Secret Circle') but with longer fuller hair, hazel eyes, and more curves. Olivia is not anything like Faye though! Here's a link for a picture of Phoebe Tonkin on the CW. com: http:/ www. Cwtv .com /shows /the-secret-circle/photos /0062526059e and/or
http:/ www. Cwtv . Com/ show s/the-secret-circle/ photos /006340207b2 (Remove the spaces)
Disclaimer: I do not own The walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this chapter. I am using a fictional interpretation of 'God' etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I do not own the Teletubbies, thank goodness! I do not own, or represent Phoebe Tonkin, the CW, or The Secret Circle! I do not own Frankie Goes to Hollywood, or the song Relax. Definition of 'Tribe,' extrapolated from Merriam-Webster digital edition (c)2000, which I do not own. I do not own or have any affiliation with the manufacturers, sellers, etc of the SIG SAUER® P226® Tactical Operations, .22LR Subsonic rounds of any variety, or the SIG Sauer Mosquito. All I know I learned from Wikipedia, which I also do not own, and http:/ sigsauer. Com /CatalogProductDetails/ (Remove the spaces.)which I, Guess what? DO NOT OWN. This is depressing! I don't know if the afore mentioned guns are suppressor compatible, but we're going to pretend that they are! Yay! I think that's everything!