Chapter 19: All's Fair in Love and War

A/N: Big thanks to my betas, deiticlast, murg, and satsuma!

As Buffy watched Kennedy approach, she was filled with the sudden urge to bum rush the girl and rip herweapon out of those dirty, scythe-stealing hands. And of course Kennedy didn't help matters, smirking as she added a bit of swagger to her walk the instant she saw Buffy.

Yep, same old Kennedy. Well, aside from the crazy amount of silver draped around her neck – which Buffy was guessing wasn't just a misguided attempt at a fashion statement.

And, oh yeah, her complete and utter betrayal of slayers everywhere.

Buffy felt her anger rise. She was so ready to inflict some pain. Unfortunately, attacking Kennedy was pretty much the exact opposite of buying some time.

Not trusting herself to get any closer, Buffy came to an abrupt halt. Then she took a deep breath as she purposefully turned her attention toward the others.

She immediately realized that Eric had been wrong. In addition to Kennedy, there were six men and two women. They were all completely normal looking, but she could sense that they were all werewolves – extremely nervous ones, at that.

As much as she wanted to believe that her reputation was just that good, she highly doubted she was the cause of their fear. Seriously, even on her best days, she was constantly underestimated; it was her secret weapon.

And today, when she was all dirty and car accident-mussed in a sundress a few sizes too big? So not intimidating, and she knew it.

Nope, judging by the way their eyes kept flitting to the woods – clearly uneasy with the situation – it was Eric they were afraid of. It was actually kind of amusing, seeing the big, bad wolves not acting very big or bad.

Was it wrong of her to want Eric to jump out of the trees and shout 'Boo!'?

She bit back a laugh at this mental image, and she felt Eric respond with his own feelings of curious amusement, which only made her smile wider.

Yeah, yeah, they were totally having a moment. Too bad it was ruined a mere two seconds later by Miss Backstabbing Bitch herself.

"I was hoping you were in the car, too," Kennedy called out as she came to a stop, keeping about fifty feet between them. She looked Buffy up and down with a smirk. "Of course, I was also hoping you'd be maimed a little more."

Buffy gave a small snort of laughter. "Sorry to disappoint. Guess you'll just have to win this fight all on your own," she shrugged. Then she glanced over at the werewolves with a disdainful look on her face. "Or not."

Kennedy narrowed her eyes as she not too subtly brandished the Scythe. "I can handle you on my own," she promised.

"So Snoopy and company are here just for Eric? Wow, I haven't been giving him enough props," Buffy exclaimed in mock embarrassment.

Now it was Kennedy's turn to laugh. "We can't trick them all, can we? I don't think he would buy the whole 'we need to find Buffy because I was attacked by the big, bad Council' routine like Vi did."

Buffy's cool demeanor slipped at the mention of Vi. "She was your friend. They all were your friends," she said, her voice tight as she tried to maintain control.

To Buffy's surprise, Kennedy's face became hard and brittle, with real pain in her eyes, pain that she didn't even try to mask.

"And Willow was yours, but you sent her to her death for the greater good," Kennedy spat out. "None of this would've happened if you'd just done your job. You gave us no choice."

"'Us'? What are you, the Borg?" Buffy retorted.

"No, I'm the Slayer," Kennedy drawled as she twirled the Scythe around in her hand.

"Please," Buffy scoffed. "You have no idea what being a slayer means."

Kennedy rolled her eyes. "Spare me your motivational girl power speech. It wasn't that good the first time," she sneered.

Buffy clenched her hands into fists. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. It also didn't escape her notice that the werewolves were steadily inching toward her.

Talk about annoying. She hadn't even made a single pun yet. Clearly, she was losing her touch.

As she tried to think of something to say, something punny, she heard the faintest sounds of scraping metal behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was about time.

Unfortunately, everyone else heard him, too.

Kennedy glanced over at the werewolves. "Get the vampire. Leave her to me," she ordered.

They growled in reply; a few even had the nerve to smirk at her. Gone was their nervousness – as was Buffy's last hope that this could be resolved over a tranq gun and some awkward nudity.

They knew exactly what they were doing, what they wanted, and they were going to go all wolfy on her to accomplish it.

Sure enough, she watched as their pupils began to dilate in a very creepy, very supernatural way. Two seconds later, they transformed into ginormous snarling wolves.

Stifling a sound of resignation, Buffy placed herself in such a position so that anyone who tried to pass her would be within striking range of her and her trusty bar.

As the weres cautiously stalked toward her, she made one last attempt to delay them, for although her leg didn't hurt that much, her ribs still ached with every movement.

"You do realize that the people you're working for have a mission to kill anything supernatural, including werewolves, right?" she pointed out.

They only snarled in response.

Buffy sighed and adjusted her grip on the bar as she braced herself for the impending fight. They might have been ordered to leave her alone, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to ignore them.

Of course, she'd have to catch them first.

She'd never seen werewolves move so quickly. It took every bit of her own considerable speed to swing the bar around like a baseball bat as the first werewolf tried to race past her.

On the bright side, she managed to make contact with the tan colored wolf, sending the one were crashing into another gray and white one. On the not so bright side, the blow barely seemed to register, as both weres shook it off like they would a flea bite. In fact, all it really seemed to do was piss them off.

The first were lunged for her, its teeth bared as it went for her throat. She saw it coming, though, and held the bar across her body so she could thrust the bar into the were's mouth, forcing the creature to bite down on it and more importantly, not on her.

Because winning the fight only to become a werewolf? So not happening.

As they fell to the ground, she used the momentum to throw the were off of her. Although her ribs were screaming in protest, she quickly rolled to her feet. She was vaguely aware that the other weres were rushing past her, but there was nothing she could do, for now the gray and white werewolf slammed into her, claws tearing into anything they could.

Buffy fell backward, taking the were with her, only just managing to dodge its gaping jaw. Fortunately, she still had the bar in her hands. As the were raised it head to bite her, she struck it across its throat.

Stunned and gasping for breath, it rolled off of her and slunk away out of striking distance.

"I said back off! She's mine!" Kennedy yelled angrily as she closed the gap between them.

Buffy could see the resentment glittering in the gold, wolfy eyes. And though neither werewolf continued to attack, they didn't go and join the others, either.

"Looks like someone needs to go back to obedience school, Kennedy," Buffy couldn't help but taunt, even though the last thing she wanted was to fight two wolves and a slayer.

Kennedy's eyes flashed as she circled around Buffy, looking very much like her furry flunkies as her lips curled into a snarl. Then, without saying a single word, she attacked, bringing the Scythe down in a wicked arc.

Buffy held her own weapon up on defense, though she had her doubts about its effectiveness against the Scythe.

Sure enough, the Scythe's blade bit into her bar and cleaved it in two. Buffy herself had to jump back to avoid one serious death blow, and even then the blade grazed her shoulder, effortlessly slicing through her bare skin before she managed to move away.

The wound burned with pain, adding itself to her other aches and pains. Even so, the thought of being killed with the Scythe of all things gave Buffy just the spark she needed.

Taking just a second to adjust her grip on the two pieces of steel in her hands, she then attacked with one purpose and one purpose only – to separate Kennedy from the Scythe.

Buffy made sure that she got in close so that it would difficult to effectively wield the Scythe. Then she delivered a series of short, sharp blows. While she was able to connect with Kennedy's arms and shoulder a few times, the brunette was too quick and dodged her more serious strikes.

Then Kennedy landed a left hook of her own. Buffy had seen it coming, though, and she moved in a way that absorbed most of the impact. Yet somehow, she still found herself flying through the air, crashing onto the road a good five feet from where she had been standing only seconds ago, her own weapons unwittingly knocked out of her hands as she slammed into the ground.

In that moment, Buffy knew.

Kennedy had always been one of the better slayers, fighting-wise. It also made sense that she would only get better with time. Still, something here wasn't right.

Just like the werewolves, she was too fast, too strong. And it finally clicked – even as Kennedy hefted the Scythe above her head to strike Buffy when she was vulnerable on the ground.

"You've been drinking vamp blood," Buffy accused.

Kennedy paused for a second to smirk. "Whatever it takes to win," she acknowledged with a grunt. Then she brought the Scythe down with blinding speed.

Buffy rolled out of the way as fast as she could, feeling the slight breeze as the blade whizzed by her ear and lodged itself into the asphalt.

With a loud curse, Kennedy automatically tugged on the handle, leaving herself momentarily vulnerable.

Never one to pass up an opportunity, Buffy scrambled to her feet and aimed a powerful sidekick at Kennedy's ribcage, sending the girl sailing through the air.

Then she raced toward the Scythe and pulled. She felt it move a little, so she went to try again.

Unfortunately, the two werewolves watching the whole scene unfold had different ideas, as they apparently took this as a cue to join in the fray. And just to make things really interesting, Kennedy was already up and charging toward her again, Scytheless but still very much dangerous.

Crap.

Knowing that the Scythe was her best bet, Buffy went to give it one more yank. Before she could, however, she heard this was a strange swooshing sound coming from behind her. She heard Kennedy swear as the brunette and the werewolves abruptly stopped their charge and threw themselves to the side.

Instinctively, Buffy ducked, just as a portion of Eric's car sailed over her head, crashing into the road in front of her and putting itself between her and Kennedy and the weres.

At first, she thought that Eric was trying to help her out, and she was both annoyed and thankful. Then she saw it. Underneath the heap, she saw black fur peeking out.

Buffy scowled. Show off.

Then, because the flying car danger seemed to be over, she turned right back to the task at hand and gave the Scythe one last tug. To her relief, it finally dislodged from the asphalt; just in time, too, as her two werewolves came bounding over the top of the scrap heap that was Eric's car at the very moment.

They moved around her, almost in a blur, swiping at her at random intervals. Or at least they tried to.

As the gray and white wolf clawed at her, she jabbed the pointy end of the Scythe toward it, spearing its paw. Though it gave a pitiful yelp, she could see its powerful muscles bunching as it prepared to attack again.

Before it could make a move, Buffy spun the Scythe in her hands and brought the blade down on the werewolf's neck.

She felt a flash of guilt, even though it had been pretty obvious from the first growl that this would be a fight to the finish. It disappeared, however, as she saw the tan wolf leaping for her, teeth and claws extended, a hungry look in its eyes.

Buffy jumped out of the way, letting the animal sail past her. As it turned around to attack again, she swung out with the Scythe. It managed to duck under it, though, and countered with another leap for her throat.

Without hesitation, Buffy jammed the pointed end of the Scythe in its midsection, aiming straight for the heart.

The weight of the dead werewolf almost tore the Scythe out of her hands. As it was, Buffy was jerked down as the were hit the ground, lifeless.

For a split second, she felt awful. It didn't help that both werewolves had transformed back to their human selves in death. But deep down she knew it was a kill or be killed kind of situation. And she still had a slayer to catch.

Buffy raced around the heap of car in search of Kennedy. She immediately spotted the silver chains that she had seen hanging around the brunette's neck; they were crushed, partially under the wreck and partially lying on the road. There was some blood there, too.

For a brief second, Buffy had visions of Kennedy underneath, a la the Wicked Witch of the East. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found.

Buffy did, however, hear the sound of growling, quickly followed by the sound of flesh tearing into flesh, over where she had last seen Eric.

Thinking that maybe Kennedy had decided to regroup over there, Buffy dashed over there as well.

To her bitter disappointment, there was no sign of her. At all. Which meant that Kennedy had actually run away.

Seriously? Who did that?

Before Buffy could get too worked up about the indignity of it all, though, she saw one of the werewolves leaping for Eric. From what she could tell, he didn't see it coming. Even if he did, he might not be able to do anything about it, as he was currently preoccupied fending off two others – the only ones still alive, by the looks of it.

"Oh no, I am so not giving him any more blood," she muttered under her breath. "Blood Bank Buffy is closed…forever."

Though she was loathe to part with it, even for just a second, Buffy hurled the Scythe toward the attacking werewolf, catching it right in the neck as the force of the blow slammed the werewolf against a tree. Thankfully, it seemed like these werewolves didn't need silver kill them – though admittedly beheadment was kind of tough to come back from, no matter what you were.

Eric took a moment to send a fangy grin of appreciation her way. Then he turned his attention back to the wolves at hand. By the time Buffy had retrieved the Scythe, Eric had taken care of them.

No one could ever say that he minded getting his hands dirty.

She walked over toward him, resolutely ignoring the fact that she had to step over body parts to get to him. What did she expect to happen when a vampire fought a pack of werewolves? Besides, it wasn't like she was looking too great herself—

Buffy gaped as she finally gave herself a good look over.

Blood. Everywhere. And a healthy amount of scratches, too.

She looked like a bad horror movie. And it was pretty safe to say that she owed Sookie a new dress; aside from being majorly blood splattered, the dress was about one broken thread away from a 'wardrobe malfunction'.

Eric came to stand next to her with a bemused expression on his face, knowing exactly what she was thinking. Her appearance hadn't escaped his notice, either – except that he thought she looked magnificent, standing in the faint glow of moonlight in her white dress, streaked with blood as she unconsciously cradled the weapon in her hands like it was something precious.

He was wise enough not to mention any of this, however. Instead, he simply pulled his own shirt over his head and offered it to her. To be sure, it had blood on it as well, but it didn't stand out as the shirt was black. More importantly, it would cover the majority of her wounds.

Buffy hesitated to take the shirt from him at first. Then she realized how ridiculous she was being.

She looked up at him to give him a small smile of thanks as she took the shirt. What she got was an eyeful of vampire chest.

Flustered, she looked away, though she did manage to squeak out a 'thank you'.

Grinning, Eric walked to the remnants of his car. He tore the metal off what remained of his trunk and pulled out some rags he had stored in there. As he began wiping the excess blood off of himself, he couldn't help but give his car a mournful look.

"You are costing me quite a bit in resources and well-being," he commented with a small sigh.

"Kinda makes you wonder if I'm worth the trouble, huh?" Buffy joked offhandedly as she pulled his shirt down over her.

"Not for a single moment."

His reply came so quickly, it almost made her do a double take.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, we've got to clear a few things up here. About you and me… and last night… everything," she emphasized. "I know finding the slayer is like the ultimate Where's Waldo to you vamps, but—"

"No," he interrupted. "It's because the slayer is you." His gaze was unflinching, his tone matter-of-fact. There was no pretense or false flattery. It was simply the truth.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out. She just didn't know how to respond to that. After a long pause, she decided not to. She needed to take stock of her injuries anyway, right?

And she really did, particularly her shoulder as it was throbbing at the moment.

Suddenly, Eric was at her side. "I could help with that," he offered mildly, though there was a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and scowled. "Nice try, but I've got super healing on my own - which, by the way, you seem to be benefiting from in spades," she dryly noted.

Because really, despite the vampire versus werewolf throwdown that just took place, he looked, well, amazing. Rosy cheeks, skin glowing, the works. All he needed was a blood mustache to complete the look.

Blood. Buffy grimaced as part of her conversation with Kennedy came back to her. It was always about the blood, wasn't it?

She looked up at the hulking vampire. "I'm guessing they wanted your blood, though, right? Hence the whole elaborate car wreck?" she guessed. "But why yours specifically?"

Eric hesitated for a moment before replying. "The age and strength of the vampire affects the power of the blood," he finally acknowledged.

Buffy blanched as the implication sunk in. "What would the blood of a former Slayer-turned-vampire do?" she asked quietly. Her gaze inadvertently strayed down to the dead werewolves again. "We need to find Vi. If only dead werewolves could talk."

Eric looked at the wolves. Then he stepped closer to one, staring at it intently for a full minute before looking up at Buffy. "I recognize this one. He's from the Long Tooth Pack," he said thoughtfully. "The rest are unfamiliar, though."

"The Long Tooth Pack?" she asked curiously.

"The local werewolf pack. We need to get back to Fangtasia immediately and contact them. I think they would be very interested to learn of this new development," Eric said. Then he smirked. "And they can manage the clean up."

"Okay," Buffy said slowly. It made sense. They couldn't stay there, in the middle of nowhere, but they really couldn't just leave the dead bodies like this, either. Then she squinted down the road. "Are we close to Fangtasia?"

Eric's eyes gleamed. "In a manner of speaking," he began, his eyes flitting up toward the sky.

Buffy held up one hand to cut him off while using the other to pinch the bridge of her nose. She should've known.

Fangtasia was right around the corner – as the vampire flew anyway.