a/n: I apologize for the shorter-than-normal chapter, but I've been busy and wanted to make an update this week. The ending on this chapter also seemed kind of natural, so I hope you like it.

Quinn tore down the streamers and bundled them together, sticking the load into a trash can.

"Such a waste," Jesse shook his head in a dark corner of The Bronze with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, well..." was Quinn's only response.

"I wish I could help."

Quinn raised an eyebrow and looked into his marble grey eyes to deduce whether he was being genuine or not.

"You can help research, I guess," said Quinn, nodding over to a cushioned couch in front of the stage where Tina, Sam and Kurt were clustered around Tina's laptop. Buffy's brainy friend had been called immediately to utilize her researching skills and Buffy's watcher was on his way with books from his office.

"I don't think the Macbook needs a fourth audience member," Jesse shrugged.

"It's kind of a scooby thing. The research and stuff... I was thinking of calling Rachel, but..."

"But?"

"It would be... awkward. With you and... she's never been a fan of Santana, either."

"You'll miss her?"

"Who? Oh, Santana... of course I'll miss her," Quinn sighed, "She's my sister."

Jesse smirked. "Makes me glad I don't have that."

Quinn frowned. "What do you mean? You have a sister."

"No. Having to depend on other people for your happiness. It's not a risk I'd like to take. People are inherently selfish. They'll hurt you."

Quinn grimaced. "Aren't you inspirational as ever."

"I'm only telling the truth."

"Well, thanks for that," Quinn sighed.

Jesse looked down at his shoes. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I... I have been so lost."

"I know."

"I just don't know where I'm supposed to be. Who I'm supposed to be. I don't think I'm good for anyone right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I think I should be alone until I figure myself out. Independant."

"You've always been independent."

"Not always. Not really."

"What are you saying?"

"I think... Beth should stay where she is. With Shelby."

It was Jesse's turn to grimace. "I was afraid this would happen."

"I know, we had a deal-"

"No, it's... it's fine."

Quinn nodded. "I mean, what kind of parents would Puck and I have made? We're stupid kids."

"You're not stupid," Jesse said, looking at her intensely.

"Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Didn't you want to win her back? Shelby? Which I find so unbelievably gross because, I mean, she's Rachel's mom and she's ancient, but... You love her, right?"

Jesse clenched his jaw. "Love is for children."

"We are children."

Jesse looked behind him, at the scooby gang studying on the couch and at Puck helping Sofia tuck the refreshments away in tupperware containers.

"It was a stupidly ambitious thought that I'd ever win her back. Women like her don't get taken. They take. The only problem is... I was so set on her being my future. Now I don't have one."

Quinn quirked her eyebrows sympathetically. "Yes, you do. You just don't know what it is yet."

Both of their gazes turned to the entrance as Mr. Schuester entered, a messenger bag over his shoulder,followed in by Buffy, Santana and Angel, who were all decked out in a fresh set of clothes. Quinn pushed past Jesse and ran to Santana, throwing her arms over the girl.

"I thought that was the last time I was going to see you," Quinn smiled into her hair.

Santana smirked. "Don't be so dramatic," she said, and hugged back tighter.

"What happened?!" Sofia demanded, sprinting to her daughter and throwing her arms over her.

"Dru's guys ambushed us," said Buffy, actively avoiding Sam's gaze, "They have the boxes."

"Why did you change?" asked Tina.

"We got wet," Angel said simply.

"What do we know so far?" Mr. Schuester directed his question at Tina.

"Well, the more we know about the Judge, the less we like him. His touch can literally burn the humanity out of you. No human has ever survived that. Only purely evil creatures."

"Can he be stopped?" asked Santana, "Without an army?"

"No weapon forged can kill him," said Tina, reciting an article, "But if we could keep them from assembling him-"

"We need to find his weak spots," Angel interrupted, "We need to figure out where they'd be keeping him."

"That could take a while," said Buffy.

"Right," Kurt nodded, "If our parents ask, we're all sleeping over at Santana's house."

xxx

"You look sleepy."

Buffy snapped her eyes open and looked up from the couch she'd been sitting at in The Bronze, where Santana was looming over her with a Lima Bean cup in her hand.

"What time is it?" Buffy asked groggily.

"Two-ish," said Santana, taking a seat next to the blonde and handing her the cup, "I picked up some java for the gang."

"Thanks," said Buffy, and downed a mouthful of hot, bitter coffee.

"Can I ask you something?" Santana said quietly, glancing behind her where a bunch of the scoobies sat at the bar, falling asleep over dusty old volumes. Only Tina was wide awake and wired, the glow of her laptop screen lighting up her face.

Angel had offered to take Quinn and Sofia home, but neither woman wanted to leave. Both were asleep on armchairs. Sam had headed home a few hours earlier and parted from Buffy with just a tentative pat on the shoulder. He'd quickly been replaced with Blaine, who Kurt had called and who had brought his own slew of useful demonology guides. While there was little Puck or Jesse could help with, neither would leave before the other.

"Ask me what?" Buffy replied to her.

"Why did you jump in after me at the dock?" asked Santana, "You know I don't need to breathe..."

Buffy blushed. "Right, well... I wasn't thinking."

"It was stupid."

"Well... yeah."

"Thank you."

Buffy looked at the vampire's solemn face. "Don't mention it."

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted.

The girls whipped around to see Blaine in a panic as Kurt slumped over the bar, unconscious. They leapt off the couch and ran to Kurt's side.

"Wait! I think he's having a vision!" said Tina.

"How do you know?" asked Santana.

Tina slid off of her bar stool and gently pulled Kurt's shoulders back, lifting the boy's head. While most of his face was blank and his body was slack, his eyes were wide open and moving, as if he was watching something play out in front of him. The sight was slightly disturbing.

"Whoa," Puck breathed.

"Yeah," Jesse frowned.

Kurt suddenly gasped, his body becoming rigid and alert. He looked around at everyone gathered around him.

"Kurt," said Blaine, putting his hand on his boyfriend's with concern in his dark, round eyes.

Kurt sighed heavily. "I know where they are."

xxx

"More music!"

Drusilla clapped her hands with excitement like a little girl tucked into a black velvet dress. Her eyes were wide with wonder at the tattered decorations covered in ash and strewn around the abandoned factory, a string quartet of vampires playing The Devil's Trill. She grinned as she heard the rusty spokes of Spike's wheelchair coming near and he rolled forward with a cast iron box on his lap.

"Look what I have for you, duck," he grinned crookedly over the noise of music and merriment as the party played out in the dark factory.

"Ah! The best is saved for last," she said regally and took the box in her black polished fingers.

She took the box and moved to the corner of the room, where several boxes were stacked on top of each other in a precarious and strangely specific order, resembling the figure of a heavy man. She balanced herself on a footstool and reached up to place the last box on the very top of the pile. Suddenly, a surge of energy rumbled through the boxes as they all clicked together like puzzle pieces, until all of the boxes opened at once from their fronts like a door.

The party collectively gasped at the sight of The Judge. He was a hulking, blue man with a face wrinkled like a vampiric demon and several rust-colored horns emitting from the top of his bald head, black armour draped over his monstrous form. His eyes were completely black. No iris. No black. Just darkness.

Drusilla clasped her hands together. "He's perfect, my darling. Just what I wanted."

He lurched forward and took his first, lumbering steps out of the prison of boxes with complete indifference on his demonic face. As Drusilla began to step towards him, Spike gently but firmly gripped her wrist.

"I'd let our guest make the first move, dear," he said.

"You..." the Judge started to say in an unearthly, booming voice, pointing towards Spike and Drusilla.

Spike rolled forward in his wheelchair and smiled. "What's that, mate?"

"You two stink of humanity. You share affection. Jealousy."

"Yeah, what of it? Need I remind you that we're the ones who brought you here?"

"I have no alliances."

"Right, then. You want to go back in the little boxes?"

The Judge quietly pursed his lips in thought. "You may live. You will help me serve my purpose."

Spike grinned. "Works for me."

Drusilla smiled up at the Judge with adoration. "Would you like a party favor?"

The Judge nodded and gazed over Drusilla's head at the quivering party guests, his eyes landing on a small, bespectacled man.

"That one," he said, pointing at Dalton, "He is full of feeling. He reads. Bring him to me."

"Bring him?" Spike questioned, "I thought you could just... zap people."

"My full powers will return in time. Until then, I need contact."

Two of Spike's brutish minions gripped Dalton by the arms and dragged him to the Judge, pleading and struggling.

"Please! Please, let me go! Let me live! Please, don't-"

The Judge raised his hand. "Silence."

Dalton trembled uncontrollably as the Judge put his blue hand on the vampire's neck. Dalton began to smoulder until he blackened and crumbled, flames sparking out of his eye sockets before he turned to dusty white ash. The crowd was silent until Drusilla began to clap and jump up and down, an ecstatic smile plastered on her pale face.

"Do it again! Do it again!"

xxx

Buffy and Santana creeped along the upper deck of the factory's balcony, looking over the edge at the macabre party. Spike and Drusilla were nowhere in sight. Buffy put her fingers lightly on the steel border over the balcony and snuck a peek at Santana, who was literally holding her breath and staring over the factory like a watchful hawk.

"Oh my God," Santana breathed, and Buffy followed her gaze across the factory. A blue beast clad in armour strode across the room, flanked by Spike and Drusilla.

"Is that-?"

"It has to be," nodded Santana, "The Judge."

The Judge stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tensing.

"What is it?" Drusilla asked innocently.

The Judge didn't reply, but slowly looked up, his eerie eyes settling on Buffy and Santana. Santana grabbed Buffy's wrist and said, "We have to get out of here."

Quickly, they spun around to see two vampires closing in on the entry the girls had come in through. It didn't take long for Spike's bounty of minions to overpower them and drag them down to the party where the Judge was staring at them with intense hatred and Spike and Drusilla were smiling giddily.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. Party crashers," Spike grinned.

"I'm sure our invitations just got lost in the mail. Valentine's Day. Some empty ghetto-ass factory. Bring Your Own Blood," smirked Santana.

Drusilla walked close in her swaying black dress and gently put one dark, long fingernail on Santana's cheek. "I had a dream you would come. Happy birthday, pet. You're all grown up now."

Santana flinched. "Leave her alone!" shouted Buffy.

"Yeah, that'll work, slayer," Spike quipped wryly, "Noe say pretty please."

"The slayer," said the Judge, setting his sights on Buffy.

"Chilling, isn't it?" Drusilla said dreamily, "So full of good intention."

Santana twisted and lunged forward, breaking free from the minions and quickly stepping in front of Buffy, who was still held back by her captors.

"Take me," she said quickly, "Take me instead of her."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You don't get it, love. There is no instead. There is first and second."

"And if you go first, you don't get to watch the slayer die," smiled Drusilla.

The minions gripped Santana again and yanked her away despite her protests. Buffy struggled against the grips of the vampires holding her as the Judge neared, extending his large hand. Buffy swung forward and kicked high, hitting the Judge's chest with the bottom of her shoe.

"Buffy, no!" Santana cried.

As the Judge stumbled back, Buffy gasped and trembled. Santana clenched her jaw and wrenched free of the vampire,s sprinting through the crowd and jumping over old wooden tables and to the stack of wood and iron boxes that the Judge come out of. She leapt behind them and pushed the pile forward, the Judge and the vampires jumping out of the way of the loud crash.

Buffy's head spun and in the confusion of the spectacle, she slipped out of the minions' grasps and towards Santana.

"This way!" Santana yelled, slipping her arm around Buffy and hauling the girl off to a dark exit in the corner.

"Stop them!" they heard Drusilla calling as they jumped down through a sewer tunnel. They heard the beat of rain beyond the tunnel and slipped into a dark, damp alcove, letting Spike and Drusilla's minions run past them without being found.

They stood in that spot for a few minutes in absolute silence before negotiating their way out of the dark sewers and into the rain at the edge of town.

"I think we lost them," said Buffy, rain drops collecting in her hair.

Santana eyed a cut on Buffy's arm, bright blood dribbling out of it and washing away in the rain, smearing on her skin. "Come on. Angel's apartment is close. You have to get inside."

They made their way to Angel's basement apartment, using the key he left under the dark doormat to get in.

"You look like a ghost, slayer," said Santana, closing the door behind her and turning on a few lights.

"Cold," she shivered.

Santana moved to Angel's wardrobe and pulled out one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweats. "Put these on," she said, handing the clothes to Buffy, "Then get under the covers."

She nodded to Angel's unmade bed in the corner of the small studio.

"Okay," Buffy groaned, pulling her damp t-shirt off and wincing.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just got a cut or something."

"Let me see," Santana said tenderly and led her to the edge of the bed.

Santana dabbed the blood off of her arm and inspected the cut as Buffy shyly held Angel's crumpled t-shirt up to herself.

"It's fine. It already closed, so..."

Buffy nodded, her hair damp and clinging to the back of her neck. She looked at Santana, vulnerability across her whole face.

"You almost went away today," she said quietly.

"I know," Santana said simply, looking down at the carpet.

"Look at me," Buffy pleaded.

Santana obliged, looking up at her with pain deep in her face. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Buffy... I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop."

Buffy frowned deeply. "I know."

"It hurts. You have no idea... I can't stay here."

"You can. Please. Stay here."

"Buffy," Santana groaned, and stood up, pacing the room, "You don't get it. I can't. I need to escape this, this... bullshit."

Buffy flinched. "What do you mean?"

"You blondes act so innocent, but you're usually the source of my pain. It took me years to get over Brittany and we never even dated. Quinn is both my best friend and the bane of my existence. And you. Buffy, you are everything I want. It took me way too long to realize it, too."

"Why does that have to be a bad thing?"

"Because, Buffy. You are the one. And I am not."

Buffy furrowed her brow. "Who says you can't be the one?"

"The universe. For one thing, as a species, we are supposed to be mortal enemies. For another... You deserve better."

"I think I can choose what I deserve."

"You can. Of course you can. So if you have a choice, don't choose me."

"How can you say that?"

"Where is this supposed to go, Buffy? What life are we supposed to live? In a hundred years, everyone I know will be dead and I will be here. Sixteen years old. That's not fair to you."

"You think any of this is fair?" Buffy asked incredulously, "None of this is fair, Santana. It's not fair that we can't control who we fall in love with. It's not fair that we get torn apart all the time. Life is not fair."

"Yeah, I think I've heard that before."

"Stop," Buffy shook her head, "Listen to me. I brought Sam to your party tonight. As my date."

"I got that. Loud and clear."

"Just listen. Ever since you told me you loved me I've been so confused, wondering what he means to me and what you mean to me."

Santana frowned. "And?"

Buffy sighed, staring up at Santana through her fair eyelashes. "And Sam... is amazing. He is kind and noble and he loves me so much. And today, he gave some news. Some news that let me know that I had a choice. Between him and... and not being with him. And when he said that, something clicked. I stopped daydreaming and I knew how I felt. And maybe you won't like it and maybe... maybe even I wish it didn't have to be like this... But it does."

Santana folded her arms and braced herself. "You already made a choice," Santana realized with bitter disappointment.

"No."

"No?"

"I realized that when it comes to love, you don't get to choose. There was no choice. There was only you."

Santana opened her mouth, surprised. "Me?"

Buffy smiled wryly. "It was always you."

She set aside Angel's t-shirt and walked over in her white bra. She put her cold, damp hands on either side of Santana's face and kissed her gently. Santana closed her eyes and breathed in Buffy's beautiful scent as they parted.

"You... Maybe we shouldn't-"

"Don't," Buffy whispered, "Just kiss me."

Santana obeyed like she had no free will and kissed Buffy with more fervor this time, running her hands over the slayer's bare waist, over her shoulders and through her hair. They clumsily stumbled to the bed, never breaking contact and fell onto the sheets, entangled in each other.