Biiiiiiig thanks to Sockmonkeyhere for being my beta. Love ya!

Blah blah, I don't own any of the characters. ('Cept for Simon, Karen, Shannon, and Rob.)

-Clocky

Going to pick up blood at the butcher was one of the stranger experiences of Spike's life, or unlife, for that matter. And there were plenty of weird things that he had seen and done in both of those. But the look on the clerk's face when he and Angel had come into the store under an umbrella and had explained their request; oh, it had been priceless. He only stopped looking quite as frightened for his safety and their sanity when Angel had quipped about hearing something about pig's blood being good for gardens.

The clerk had lifted a brow, but given them what they asked for in the form of three one-gallon milk jugs.

They'd nearly fried as they went back to the van, as holding the jugs and trying to keep the umbrella over both of them proved quite a feat.

Chatting with Willow had been nice, though. The witch was as pleasant to chat with as he remembered. Though while they'd waxed nostalgic and explained about Wolfram and Hart, Spike found himself noticing the furtive glances she shot Illyria. In fact, there was still a tension in the room with the Old God around that he wasn't sure would ever fade. Fred had been taken from them so swiftly and out of the blue, he was surprised at himself that he missed her as much as he did. It brought a knot in his chest to think of her as really gone, even now, after so much time had passed.

Sometimes, and he wouldn't admit this, he thought he smelled Fred. That clean, soapy smell mixed in with oranges and sandalwood. But it never lasted for more than a minute, and it left him angrily wishing Knox was still alive so he could kill him all over again.

As the days went by, the men of Angel Investigations found that there was really nothing to do in the town. In fact, for the first time in a long while, they found themselves bored. Cromwell was a town where, really, nothing all that interesting happened. In fact, the more Spike mused on it, the more certain he was that Fourth of July around these parts was the most eventful thing that ever happened.

While Angel and Gunn were contented to hang around the motel room and watch reruns of 'Roseanne', Spike, Illyria, and Lorne were not the sorts to sit around waiting.

So after much convincing and shouting, which nearly came to blows between Angel and Spike, it was agreed as long as they were 'really freakin' careful', ( "Yes, yes, mother." ) they could roam the town at night.

But as the old adage goes: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

The wooden baseball nearly struck the vampire in the head, but he dodged it with ease, and lunged at the dark-haired boy before him. Simon yelped, and ducked, landing on the ground; the force of the vampire's lunge sent him sailing over the boy's head, and Simon scrambled back to his feet, bat at the ready.

Simon knew this vampire, or, he sort of did. He was a pot-bellied old man in a flannel shirt and fishing hat. Simon could recall seeing him at the supermarket, carefully stacking fruit in the aisles. He even still had a nametag, lopsided as it was, pinned to his shirt pocket and stating that his name was Carl. His face was lumpy and violent looking; it hadn't been in life, but it had changed when he tried to kill the young woman passing through the street. She was long gone now, off sobbing down the road someplace.

"I never interrupted YOUR dinner before, have I, boy!?"

"Yeah, well, sorry that I'm not all that sympathetic!" Simon twisted the bat around in his hands, to the handle end, on which he had duct-taped a stake, and he lunged at the man.

But 'Carl' grabbed the bat in his filthy, bloody hands and wrenched it from Simon's grasp, throwing it far off into the dark. Quick as lightning, the vampire snatched Simon's hand, and there was a sickening, cracking sound.

Simon yelled in pain, face screwed up in terror. "Motherfu-"

'Carl' pinned him down to the ground, pressing Simon's shattered hand against his chest. "'Bout time you learned some manners, boy."

Then there was commotion all around him and Carl-the-now-blood-sucking-grocer was off him in a billow of dust. Above him now stood Karen, stake poised.

"Oh shit... Simon, are you okay!? Oh shit, oh shit!" She was on him now, trying to check out his hand, but he rolled away with a shout.

"JESUS H. TAP-DANCING CHRIST, KAREN! Why didn't you do that BEFORE!?" Simon clutched his shattered hand, eyes watering.

"I didn't have an opening before! I'm so sorry- on the upside you distracted him- oh shit, come on, come on; we'll go find Shannon!"

She retrieved the bat and helped him to his feet, slung his uninjured arm over her shoulder, and together they walked further downtown, where a neon sign buzzed in the muggy evening air; Shanny's Diner. But like so many things that were going wrong that night, they were one street away when two women came around the block.

They were both decked out in heavy jewelry, wearing denim and reeking of hairspray and perfume. They were walking steadily in Simon and Karen's direction, and they were looking at the two teens as if to say; 'I'm in the mood for take-out.'

"Okay, plan B."

"Run?"

"Fucking RUN!"

Karen grabbed Simon's good hand and bolted, running full-pelt down the cracked and chipped sidewalk. Simon could hear the booted feet of the women behind him, and they were growing closer, while he and Karen grew more tired.

And then, a heavily manicured, long-nailed hand grabbed onto the back of his shirt, and pulled him back; he vaguely processed seeing the second woman snatch Karen and slam her against the wall of the grocery store. He saw stars, his hand hurt so much, vision was blurring, and all he could understand was the heavy, gagging smell of hairspray.

Karen struggled against the iron grip of the second woman, who was taking her ever-so-delighted time in running her nose up and down the girl's neck. Karen strained her head away from the vampire's probing nose, but that only succeeded in exposing her neck. The woman dipped her head low, to the hollow of Karen's throat, and flicked out her tongue, licking up the girl's neck and ending at her jaw. Horrid, jagged fangs, wild yellow eyes... sixteen years of life whirred before her eyes...

And then a bat careened into the back of the woman's head, and the vampire crumpled at Karen's feet. A man in a long black coat and vivid white hair had replaced her, and he flipped the bat around in his hands like an expert, and slammed the stake into the vampire's back. She collapsed in dust.

There was a sickening KRRRKSPLUNCH and Karen turned; the other vampire's head had been clean pulled off by a woman in skintight leather. The head and body dissipated. Simon lay on his side, limp. She scrambled towards him.

"Simon!? Simon?" Karen shook his shoulders. "Simon!"

There was a soft, hardly audible groan. "Five mo' minu's, ma..."

She set his head on her lap, crying softly. "You jackass, scared me..."

"What in the name of the Queen's most lacy knickers were you doin' out so late at night?"

The man in the black coat's name was Spike, his bizarre blueish friend was named Illyria, and they were joined by a brightly dressed man who wasn't really a man in an orange fedora and white gloves named Lorne. When Karen had calmed down, she directed them to Shanny's Diner; Spike carried Simon.

The diner was modeled after the 50s era diners with waitresses in roller skates and big, plastic-cushioned booths along the windows. It boasted supposedly world famous apple pie, just as the welcome sign had, and when they walked in with a passed-out teenage boy and a frantic girl, the woman at the bar paled.

She was a slim girl in her twenties, wearing heavy black sunglasses and with the same straw-colored hair as Karen. A boy with longer hair and a crooked nose accompanied her. She lifted her head as they walked in.

"Shannon! Simon's hurt, real badly, guy in the road broke his hand, and we were caught up on the way back! These guys tore 'em a new one! You gotta do something, first aid, mouth to mouth, CPR!"

"Whooooa shit. What did you guys DO, run into the whole nest of them? His hand looks like it got into a fight with an egg-beater and lost."

"It's no time to joke, Rob, I'm serious!"

"Soooo where do I drop this bloke?"

"Don't drop the poor kid, Spike, put him in a booth."

"What is the purpose of glitter on the seats? Is it an attempt to make the human rear end more attractive?"

Shannon put a hand on her head, seeming to look at Simon and the others. "Rob, here, take the keys." she groped behind her at the bar and handed a set of car keys to Rob. "Take Simon to the clinic, call his parents from there."

"What do I tell 'em?"

She bit her lip. "Say he fell out of a tree... No more of this, after tonight, Karen."

"NO!" the girl gaped. "You, I mean, we can't!"

"Karen, look at him!" Shannon gestured towards Simon, who Rob was gently taking from Spike's arms. "Is this what you want? Your friends to get hurt and die?"

"No... No, but... We can't!"

Rob grunted. "It's a good thing he's skinny..." They exited, with a jingle from the door.

Shannon crossed the room to stand in front of the group. She walked carefully, calculated, tentative. "Karen... I should have stopped it when you roped Rob and Simon into it; what's the matter with you? Do you even think?"

Karen's face fell to the ground, scowling. Shannon pursed her lips. "Go to your room."

"You're not Mom."

"No, I'm your sister. But Mom's not here, get your ass to your room."

Karen threw the bat to the floor, and stormed to the back room, slamming the door behind her.

Spike looked at Lorne, who seemed equally as lost as Spike. "Uh... If you don't mind me asking, sweetcheeks, but is she a Slayer?"

Shannon cocked her head to the side. "Slayer? Oh, you mean of vampires? No, no... She's my sister. Look I'm very sorry about all of this, you must be really really confused. Um... Sit down, i'll get you four something to drink, some pie? I'll... explain."

Spike looked to Lorne, who shrugged.

"Uh... Fair 'nough, I s'pose. Blue, c'mon over here."

Shannon left briefly, and returned with four helpings of pie and four cups of coffee, which she set at a booth, and the four of them slid into it.

"Okay... My name is Shannon Clarke. The bratty girl who ran off is my sister Karen. The two boys are Robert and Simon." She wrung her hands, seeming to be unsure of how to touch upon the subject.

"Four years ago, a nest of vampires took over an old house just outside of town. I know, I know, vampires aren't real, right? Well these guys suck blood and kill people. I know it's really really far-fetched, but please trust me, okay?"

"Um, actually, sweetcakes," piped up Lorne through a mouthful of pie. "Wow, this is good... Vampires, totally not unheard of to, uh, us, in our line of work. My friend Spike here IS a vampire. Good one, though, mostly, he's got a soul."

Shannon's mouth dropped. "Oh.. OH. That... actually explains the lack of freaking out."

Spike lifted a finger. "Wait, how do you know we even saw vampires?"

Shannon smiled sheepishly. "Well I was going to say... I mean, well since you guys clearly aren't surprised by bloodsucking monsters-Oh! No offense meant, really!"

"None taken, I've heard worse."

Shannon sucked in a breath. "I'm a.. what are they called, I had Karen google it... I'm a Seer. Telepathy and astral projection, really. It's how I knew you were all here, since, well..." She pulled off the sunglasses, revealing vague, unfocused brown eyes. "Blind, you see, since I was born." she replaced them.

Illyria seemed intrigued. "You are incapable of sight?"

"That's right."

"Then you are... lesser even than the average human...?"

"Nnnno. No, I like to think I'm just about the same. The telepathy lets me see people's minds, their auras. So even though I can't really see, I know you're all here, I know where I am. I think it's like when someone loses their sight in an accident, their other senses get better, you know? Since I have no working eyes, my mind's eye is stronger, y'see?"

Illyria nodded. "I do indeed... see."

"Back to the vamps runnin' around in your little 'burg, then?"

"Right, so, four years back, bunch of the suckers come roaming in. They pick off people bit by bit, and they always make it look like an accident... Until two years ago, they slipped up, drained Karen and my parents. Karen survived; Mom and Dad didn't. Karen... took it really hard... We both did. Daddy left the diner to me in his will, so I took up raising Karen myself and working the diner. Some time passed... and Karen started looking up all this information on vampires, started making stakes and putting garlic all over the place, started disappearing late at night...

"One thing leads to another, and she kills one with help from Rob. They bring Simon into the mix and start up a home vampire hunting gang. I thought... I thought if I helped them at first, they'd be safer... And for a while, they were. Karen's a Wikipedia whore, she's got information on vampires and ways to kill them taped all over our room..."

Shannon looked down at the formica-topped table. "But tonight... If you hadn't been there... If there is ANYTHING I could ever do to repay you... We don't have a lot, but... anything, really."

Lorne looked to Spike, who nodded. "Relax, pet. We're gonna be in town for a bit, maybe we can help you lot. Me, Illyria, and Angel, 'nother vampire with good intentions, and all, we'll take care of your vampire problem."

Shannon's hands crawled across the table to grab hold of Lorne's. "I... I could never... If you four did that for us... for the town, I mean..."

"What do you mean 'four'?" Lorne peered at her curiously.

Shannon looked perplexed. "The... four of you. You, Mr. Lorne, Spike, Ill.. Illerya, is it? And your friend just there."

Lorne and Spike looked around. Illyria merely peered into the coffee and sipped it.

"There's only three of us here."

Shannon shook her head. "No, no, four! There's... someone else, just... behind the woman..." her face screwed up in confusion. "She's... there. I can see her aura."

Both Spike and Lorne looked at Illyria, who continued to sip the coffee.

"I dislike this world." she said slowly. "I dislike this plane without Wesley."

There was a long, very tense silence, which Lorne broke.

"Is she in there, Illyria? Is she still there?"

"I did not know it was her. It is a piece of her. I assumed it was her memories, fragments of the Burkle's mind left over when I took the Shell." Cold blue eyes fixed themselves on Spike, then Shannon, finally Lorne.

"When I leave, the Burkle may return. But you must retrieve the rest of the pieces. That, I cannot do."

Illyria sipped the coffee.