One Girl in All the World

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

"Buffy," Giles repeated, as if memorizing it. "You know the prophecy." "'One girl in all the world,'" Buffy repeated, a sharp hint of irony to her tone. "You think maybe fate crossed a wire in there somewhere?"

44. Chapter 44: Living Conditions

Chapter 44: Living Conditions

September 20, 1999 – Monday

Closeup Models Agency

The day of the meeting arrived, and Buffy stood outside the sleek office building, her nerves tingling with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. With a deep breath to steady herself, she stepped through the glass doors and into the pristine lobby.

As she made her way to the designated meeting room, Buffy's eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the stylish décor and the buzz of activity. Nicole Hood, the fashion agent, was impeccably dressed. Nicole greeted Buffy with a warm smile as the Slayer entered the room.

"Buffy, it's wonderful to see you," Nicole exclaimed, her voice infused with genuine enthusiasm. "Please, have a seat."

Taking a chair opposite Nicole, Buffy couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the opportunity that lay before her. She listened intently as Nicole outlined the various aspects of the modeling industry, from photo shoots to runway shows, painting a vivid picture of what lay ahead.

Throughout the meeting, Nicole took the time to address Buffy's concerns and questions, offering guidance and support every step of the way. Together, they discussed ways to highlight Buffy's unique strengths and talents, ensuring that her transgender identity would be celebrated rather than overlooked.

As the meeting drew to a close, Buffy felt a sense of exhilaration bubbling up inside her. This was more than just a career opportunity; it was a chance to break down barriers and pave the way for others like her.

"Thank you so much for everything," Buffy said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I can't wait to get started."

Nicole smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "We're thrilled to have you on board, Buffy," she replied. "Together, we're going to make waves in this industry."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Buffy left the meeting feeling empowered and ready to embark on the next chapter of her journey. She knew that with Nicole's support behind her, there was nothing she couldn't achieve.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow stood by her bed, slipping into her jacket with deliberate slowness, her eyes occasionally drifting toward Kathy, who was meticulously ironing her jeans, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension thickening the air. The room itself felt cramped—not because of its size, but because of the unspoken frustrations that buzzed between them. Mariah Carey's voice filled the small space, sugary and relentless, and though Willow tried to smile through it, each high note seemed to grate on her nerves a little more.

In a vain attempt to find some semblance of common ground, Willow glanced at the CD case and forced herself to focus on anything she could compliment. The music wasn't it, so her eyes landed on Mariah's outfit. "Wow," she said, struggling to keep her tone light. "This music is so… She's… wearing a really little skirt."

Kathy, ironing away with the enthusiasm of someone who clearly thought this was quality bonding time, beamed. "I know—this song is super fun, isn't it?" she chirped, her voice far too cheerful for the late hour.

Willow, already regretting her earlier civility, clenched her jaw. "You bet," she replied, her words tightening like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. "It just gets more and more fun every time you play it."

The sarcasm floated right over Kathy's head. She continued smoothing out her jeans, her obliviousness both impressive and maddening. "Going out?" she asked, her tone casual, as though this was just another night in their strange new living arrangement.

Willow tried to muster up a plausible excuse to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room. "Figured I'd go study at the Grotto and maybe see Oz," she added, though the truth was she just needed to get out—away from the relentless Mariah Carey soundtrack, away from Kathy's incessant chipperness, away from the passive-aggressive politeness that clung to their every interaction.

Kathy finally finished her ironing, folding her jeans with the precision of someone preparing for an inspection, and laid them out alongside her carefully chosen outfit for tomorrow. "It's late," she remarked, her tone dripping with the sort of casual concern that felt more like a subtle critique. "Won't you be up all night?"

Willow barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The last thing she needed was Kathy playing mother hen. "Not really," she lied smoothly. The caffeine wasn't the point—it was the sweet release of being somewhere, anywhere, other than this room. "I'll be quiet as a mouse when I get back. Promise." She tugged her backpack onto her shoulder, her movements quick and purposeful, as though she could outrun the awkwardness.

Just as she reached for the door, Kathy's voice floated over, stopping her in her tracks. "Oh. Say, Willow?" There was a note of eagerness in Kathy's voice, the kind that always seemed to come before some overbearing roommate suggestion.

Willow turned back reluctantly, trying to keep her irritation in check. Kathy had moved over to a notepad near the phone, looking far too pleased with herself. "I wanted to show you a little system I implemented," she said, her tone brimming with a smug sense of accomplishment.

Willow felt the muscles in her neck tighten as she watched Kathy enthusiastically show off her latest system. Systems were fine—great even—when they were her own, like the meticulous color-coded notes she made while studying or the perfectly organized spell components she kept in her dorm drawer. But Kathy's constant implementation of new, unnecessary routines? That was beginning to wear thin. It was like she was trying to control every little aspect of their shared space, as if the room wasn't simply a place to live but a carefully managed operation.

"Just log every call you make in here," Kathy explained, her finger tapping the notepad with a sort of misplaced pride. "That way when the bill comes there won't be a problem. I figure—a stitch in time…"

Willow forced herself to smile, though it was more of a grimace. Another system. Of course. She tried to keep the sarcasm at bay, but it leaked into her voice despite her best efforts. "Saves nine. You bet." Her hand hovered on the doorknob, aching for the relief of fresh air. "See ya, if you're awake when…"

"Also?" Kathy interrupted, halting Willow's escape once more. There was a sudden edge of inquiry in her voice. "I noticed that some of my milk was missing. Did you…?"

Willow winced, turning back with an apologetic shrug. "Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry. I meant to—"

But Kathy waved it off, her words too bright, too forgiving. "No. It's totally okay. I was just wondering."

"I was having my coffee and I'm going to replace it," Willow explained quickly, wanting to smooth over the minor offense and hoping to avoid yet another passive-aggressive confrontation.

"Willow, it's fine," Kathy insisted, her smile still plastered on, but the subtext clear. "I just wanted to make sure—" She cut herself off, the silence filled with the brief pause as the Mariah Carey CD came to an end. But with one quick motion, Kathy pressed play, and the opening notes of the same song started up again. "—that we didn't have a thief or something."

Willow blinked, taken aback by the absurdity of the suggestion. A thief? Really? "Like who—Sid the wily diary gnome?" she quipped, her voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and humor.

"I don't know," Kathy replied with that same, unshakeable, overly cheerful demeanor. "It's not a big deal. Please, feel free."

Willow nodded, trying to keep her frustration from bubbling over. It was clear Kathy wasn't going to drop it, and the last thing she needed was another one of her roommate's "systems" governing their groceries. "Okay, well. Sorry again," she said, pulling on her backpack and gripping the door handle with a little more force than necessary.

"Have a good time," Kathy called after her, her tone so chipper it bordered on saccharine.

Willow stepped out into the hall, the sound of Mariah's voice still echoing faintly from the room behind her. She closed the door with a sigh of relief, grateful for the brief moment of escape from the relentless cheeriness and exhausting expectations of her roommate.

U.C. Sunnydale – Paths

Willow walked briskly beside Buffy and Faith, the cool night air rustling through the trees as they cut across the campus woods. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting long shadows on the path ahead of them. Her voice broke the stillness, tinged with the frustration that had been building up in her dorm room all day. "Kathy's nice and everything, but she's like—I don't know—Mini-Mom of Momdonia," Willow said, her words laced with an exaggerated exasperation. She hugged her jacket tighter around her, the cool night air a welcome change from the suffocating atmosphere Kathy had unintentionally created in their shared space.

Faith, always attuned to the surroundings, suddenly stopped mid-stride, her body tensing. She nudged Buffy with her elbow, her eyes scanning the darkened woods. "Did you hear something?" she asked, her voice dropping as she turned toward her wife, her senses sharp.

Buffy mirrored Faith's pause, her Slayer instincts kicking in. Her gaze flicked across the shadows, head tilting slightly as she listened. "No," she replied after a moment, though her expression remained focused, alert.

Willow, oblivious to the potential danger, offered an explanation, a nervous chuckle slipping out. "I'm chewing my gum kinda loud," she said, trying to be helpful, though she noticed the serious expressions on their faces.

"That's not it," Faith muttered, her eyes narrowing as she continued to listen for the faint noise she swore she had heard.

"My sneakers are squeaky," Willow added, glancing down at her shoes, her tone edging into awkwardness as she tried to pinpoint something innocuous.

Faith threw a quick look over her shoulder at Willow, her voice firm but gentle. "It's not you, Red."

"Oh," Willow murmured, her own nerves spiking as she realized Faith suspected something more sinister than gum or sneakers. "Sorry, I didn't hear anything."

The group resumed their patrol, their steps a little slower, more cautious now. Willow, however, was still fidgeting, clearly on edge. She pulled at the strap of her bag, her mind returning to her earlier frustrations. "I had to get out of the dorm," she admitted, her voice a little more anxious than before. "Listening to the best of VH1 all day sorta put me on the edge."

"Kathy's still spinning the Divas?" Buffy asked, a slight grin tugging at her lips despite the potential threat Faith had sensed.

"When I left, Mariah Carey," Willow said, her face scrunching up slightly as the memory of the constant music grated at her.

"I thought you liked Mariah Carey, Willow," Faith teased, glancing at her with a raised brow, trying to ease the tension in the air.

Willow sighed, shaking her head. "I do, just not as much as Kathy does. She's been playing it over and over today," she replied, her voice a mix of exasperation and exhaustion, as if the endless playlist was its own form of slow torture.

"College is a time of change, right?" Buffy said, her gaze shifting between her wife and Willow, her tone light yet reassuring. She flashed a small smile, trying to alleviate some of the tension that hung in the air from Willow's dorm woes. "I bet she'll be trip-hopping all over the place before too long," she added, her optimism tempered with the understanding that roommate situations, while seemingly trivial, could weigh heavily in the day-to-day life of a student.

Willow sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as they neared the fork in the path. "I hope you're right," she said, the weariness of the day evident in her voice. The night air seemed to soothe her somewhat, but there was still that lingering frustration just below the surface. "Well, this is where I get off," she added, nodding toward the path that would take her back to Oz.

Faith, always one to keep things grounded and casual, grinned at Willow. "Say hey to Oz for us," she said, the warmth in her voice contrasting with the cool breeze rustling the leaves around them.

Willow's lips curved into a fond smile as she thought of her boyfriend. "I will. And, acting as his main squeeze, I extend a 'hey' right back at ya on his behalf." She paused, her eyes flicking between her friends, feeling a little lighter now, knowing they were off to do what they did best. "Happy hunting, you two," she added, her voice playful but sincere, knowing they had a long night ahead of them.

"Thanks," Buffy replied, her voice carrying a familiar warmth and camaraderie. She squeezed Faith's hand gently as they both turned toward their path, the unspoken bond of partnership guiding their steps.

As Willow watched them walk away, Buffy threw one last comment over her shoulder with a grin. "Wish us monsters," she teased, her tone laced with their usual Slayer bravado.

Willow chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head as she waved them off. "Always do," she muttered to the night air before heading down her own path. The woods seemed quieter without Buffy and Faith beside her, but the familiar, comforting thought of Oz waiting for her at the end of the trail kept her steps steady. Then the quiet night was interrupted by the sharp crack of a twig breaking underfoot.

"Red?" Faith called out, her voice low but alert, instantly on edge. Her eyes scanned the surrounding trees, but there was no answer, no sign of Willow. Buffy and Faith exchanged a glance, their Slayer senses buzzing with unease. Something was out there, just beyond their sight.

They resumed their cautious pace, but before they could take more than a few steps, another rustling noise echoed through the trees, halting them in their tracks once more. The air seemed to grow heavier around them.

"All right," Buffy called into the darkness, her voice firm and commanding. "Why don't you quit hiding and come out and face us like a… thing." Her words hung in the air, dripping with the confidence only a seasoned Slayer could muster.

Both Buffy and Faith were coiled, ready for whatever might leap from the shadows. Their hands instinctively went for the stakes tucked into their coats, muscles tensed for the fight they knew was just seconds away. But instead of a demonic foe, a more mundane figure emerged from the gloom.

Kathy, Willow's roommate, stumbled onto the path, slightly out of breath, her face flushed from the brisk walk. "Hey, I caught you…" she began, clearly thinking she had found Willow. But as she blinked and her eyes adjusted, she realized neither woman in front of her was her redheaded roommate.

Buffy and Faith, momentarily confused by the unexpected appearance, exchanged a glance and slowly lowered their hands, letting go of their stakes. The tension in their bodies eased, though curiosity lingered in their expressions.

"Kathy, right?" Buffy asked, recognizing the intruder. "Willow's roommate?"

"Yeah," Kathy replied, still catching her breath. "I was looking for her. Decided a decaf latte sounded like heaven and thought I'd join her."

Faith, ever direct, pointed back toward the fork in the path they had recently passed. "She went down the other path back at the fork," she said, her tone casual but with a hint of amusement at Kathy's unexpected presence. "That said, I think she wanted to spend time with her boyfriend though."

Kathy's face fell slightly at the realization. "Oh… I didn't know," she said, her enthusiasm dimming but still lingering as she glanced toward the other path.

Buffy smiled, softening the situation. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be back soon. Maybe grab that latte and surprise her when she returns."

Kathy gave a small nod, clearly feeling a little awkward now, but grateful for the kindness in Buffy's voice. "Yeah, maybe I'll do that. Thanks," she muttered, stepping back onto her original path, casting one last look over her shoulder as she disappeared into the shadows again.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Faith rolled her eyes playfully. "I swear, if one more roommate of Willow's ends up being weird, I'm gonna start screening her dorm applications."

Buffy chuckled softly but her eyes still flickered toward the dark woods, her senses tingling. "Something tells me our night's not over yet," she muttered, the feeling of being watched lingering even after Kathy had left.

Faith's grin returned, her hand brushing against her stake once more. "Good. I was starting to get bored."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow was making her way toward the Grotto, her footsteps a rhythmic cadence against the quiet night, when the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. A chill ran up her spine, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Buffy? Faith?" she called out, turning around quickly, only to see Kathy stepping out from the shadows, her presence unexpected.

"Kathy, what are you doing here?" Willow asked, her surprise evident.

"I decided a decaf latte sounded like heaven and thought I'd join you," Kathy replied, her chipper tone completely oblivious to the eerie atmosphere of the dark woods.

Willow groaned inwardly. "Oh. So… you're coming along."

"Why not?" Kathy said, stretching her arms out with a carefree smile. "This way you don't have to walk these spooky paths alone."

Willow tried her best to muster a smile, but it was strained, her patience fraying. "Great. That's great." Her voice wavered with barely concealed frustration as they continued walking together.

The two moved through the woods in silence for a moment, the air thick with tension. Kathy, oblivious to the tension radiating from Willow, breathed deeply and stretched again, clearly enjoying the serenity of the night. "This is neat, isn't it? The fresh air, the trees, the—"

Suddenly, a loud noise shattered the peaceful moment. The crack of branches and the ominous shuffle of feet cut through the stillness. Willow spun around, her heart hammering in her chest. A figure cloaked in darkness emerged from the trees, its burning eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Panic surged through her veins. Without hesitation, Willow grabbed Kathy by the arm and started dragging her back toward the path they had just come from. "Buffy! Faith!" she shouted, her voice ringing with urgency as she ran, Kathy stumbling behind her.

They reached the fork in the path just as Buffy and Faith came into view, both Slayers already on high alert. Willow pointed frantically behind her, eyes wide with fear. "Demon!" she gasped, barely able to catch her breath as she pushed Kathy behind her, herding her back toward the safety of the dorms.

Buffy and Faith's instincts kicked in instantly. The cloaked demon lumbered toward them, a vicious growl escaping its lips as it swung a spiked club with deadly force. Buffy ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the brutal blow, while Faith pivoted gracefully out of the way, her eyes narrowed in fierce concentration.

"Go, we've got this!" Buffy shouted over her shoulder to Willow, her body already in motion, muscles coiled like a spring as she launched herself into battle.

Willow didn't need to be told twice. She tugged Kathy along, retreating back down the path as fast as their legs could carry them, the sounds of the ensuing fight echoing behind them.

Meanwhile, the demon snarled, frustration evident as its wild swings failed to connect with the Slayers. Buffy and Faith moved in perfect sync, evading each attack with a lethal grace. They fought back, their blows landing with precision, striking at the demon with a fury that only seasoned Slayers could muster.

The demon grunted in pain, its confidence quickly fading as it realized it was outclassed and outnumbered. Fear flashed in its glowing eyes, and it made a desperate lunge for freedom, retreating into the shadows of the dense woods.

"Get back here!" Faith called out, giving chase as Buffy followed close behind her, both of them determined to finish the fight. But the demon was fast, its dark cloak blending into the night as it disappeared into the inky blackness of the forest.

After a few moments of running, Buffy and Faith slowed to a stop, their breaths coming fast as they scanned the tree line. The demon was gone, swallowed by the night.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Faith muttered, frustration etched across her face. She twirled her stake between her fingers before tucking it back into her coat.

Buffy sighed, her eyes still searching the dark forest ahead. "He won't be gone for long. We'll get him next time," she said, her tone resolute, though a trace of disappointment lingered in her voice.

September 21, 1999 – Tuesday

Giles' Apartment

The next morning, Buffy leaned against the wall outside Giles' apartment, her eyes scanning over the stack of mail she'd casually picked up from the doorstep. The repetitive nature of it all didn't do much to stave off her boredom. "Boring bill, bill, bill..." she muttered, flipping through each envelope with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Her fingers halted on one piece of mail that caught her attention, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Just then, Giles appeared, slightly winded and dressed in his running gear, a thin sheen of sweat visible on his forehead. Buffy blinked, taking in his appearance, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. "You run?" she asked, her tone a mixture of disbelief and intrigue.

Giles, ever the master of dry humor, responded with a wry smile. "And jump. And bend. And, occasionally, frolic," he said, completely deadpan.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to reconcile this image with the man she knew. "Okay... And what's with Motorbike and Scooter magazine?" she added, holding up the envelope as though it was a clue to some hidden mystery about Giles.

Clearly annoyed now, Giles swiftly yanked the mail from her hands, straightening it as if to restore some sense of dignity. "Congratulations," he said tersely. "You've found me out—I'm a mod jogger."

Buffy couldn't help but smirk, though there was a genuine hint of concern in her eyes. "You're not doing the mid-life thing, are you? 'Cause I'm still going 'ick' from the last time you recaptured your youth—"

Giles' eyes narrowed slightly. "Buffy—"

Realizing she might have pushed a little too far, Buffy backed off. "Sorry..." She quickly changed the subject, her face shifting to a more serious tone. "Demon. Last night. Faith and I made with the pummeling. The demon got away."

That got Giles' attention immediately. His posture straightened, all previous banter gone. "What sort of demon?" he asked, slipping easily into Watcher mode.

"He was wearing a cloak, had glowy red eyes," Buffy said, her hands gesturing as if she could somehow reconstruct the creature from memory. "And his skin looked like he had a super bad rub-on tan."

Giles' brows furrowed, clearly trying to parse the description. "Translate?"

"Orange-y," Buffy clarified with a shrug, her casual demeanor contrasting with the strangeness of what she was describing.

"Thank you. Anything else?" Giles pressed, his mind already racing with possible leads.

Buffy nodded. "Willow and her roommate were there. But Willow got her out of the way as fast as possible. I don't know how much she saw though."

Giles' expression shifted ever so slightly, showing a hint of concern. "You took Willow's roommate patrolling with you?"

Buffy shook her head, quickly correcting the misunderstanding. "Willow met with us on her way to the Grotto to meet up with Oz. We separated at the fork in the path. Kathy was following Willow, thinking she would join Willow and Oz at the Grotto. None of us invited Kathy."

"Ah," Giles said with a nod of understanding. "I will talk to Willow and see if we can get her to discourage her roommate of that habit." His gaze shifted thoughtfully as he considered the details Buffy had provided. "Anyway, from what you describe, I'm not familiar with this creature. I'll look into it and give you a ring as soon as I have something." His smile was polite but brief, as he started to sift through his mail, signaling that their meeting was coming to an end.

But Buffy didn't move. She hesitated, her face softening into something more vulnerable, and Giles noticed immediately. "Giles, I have news," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "On a more personal nature."

Giles lowered the mail, focusing his full attention on her. "What is it?" he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Buffy took a deep breath, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "I met with the modeling agency yesterday," she began, a faint glimmer of excitement and nerves in her eyes. "You know, the one that doesn't care that I'm a transgender woman."

Giles' expression softened, his eyes filled with pride and affection. "Buffy, that's wonderful," he said, his voice warm, his earlier stoicism melting away into genuine happiness for her.

U.C. Sunnydale – Buffy and Faith's Dorm Room

"Thanks, Faith," Willow said, sinking into the couch in her friend's dorm room, her body releasing some of the tension she'd been carrying since leaving her own room. There was a sigh of relief in her voice as if just being away from Kathy gave her a bit of peace. "Thanks for letting me hang here until my roommate goes to class."

"It's okay, Willow," Faith called out as she stepped out of the bathroom, running her fingers through her damp hair.

Willow turned her head to respond, but the words got caught in her throat as her face instantly flushed. Faith was casually topless, completely unbothered by it as she searched through her dresser. Willow quickly averted her eyes, though the sight of Faith's carefree confidence lingered in her mind. "Kathy just makes me nuts," Willow continued, focusing on the rant to distract herself. "She has her outfits written up on index cards, and she gives them names like 'Easter at the White House.' I find that deeply, deeply disturbed—don't you?"

Faith, now pulling on a bra and shirt, glanced over with a smirk. "Willow," she said, her tone amused but understanding. "Living with someone isn't easy. Believe me, I know. It was an adjustment when I moved in with Buffy before graduation."

Willow's hands flailed in mild exasperation. "Faith, when she sharpens her pencils—she measures them with a ruler so they'll all be the same size. I mean, who does that?"

Faith chuckled, buttoning up her shirt before moving to sit beside her friend. "Everyone has their differences, Red. You don't think Buffy and I don't have things that drive us crazy? We do. You just gotta live with it. Next semester, you can request a new roommate. It'll get better."

Willow forced a tight smile, though she felt like her frustrations were still bubbling beneath the surface. She was trying, but the quirks that came with Kathy were starting to feel like nails on a chalkboard. "Okay," she said, straightening up as if giving herself a pep talk. "This is me—the kinder, gentler Willow. Roommate extraordinaire."

U.C. Sunnydale – Rocket Cafe

Willow, still wearing the same forced smile she'd mastered while venting in Buffy and Faith's dorm room, found herself navigating through the crowded cafeteria. Her eyes darted around, but suddenly froze as they locked onto Kathy, who was obliviously walking toward her. The fake smile faltered, and panic gripped her. As Kathy moved closer, Willow's resolve crumbled. With a frantic glance around, she grabbed a cafeteria tray and held it up like a makeshift shield, ducking behind a group of tall, bulky guys. She watched, holding her breath, as Kathy passed by, completely unaware of her presence. Relief flooded Willow, even as a small pang of guilt gnawed at her. Slowly, she lowered her tray.

"Ex-boyfriend or loan shark?" came a dry, familiar voice.

Willow spun around to see Oz, his expression as laid-back as ever, though a playful glint sparkled in his eyes.

"Oz," she said, her face lighting up with genuine warmth now that he was there.

"Who were you hiding from?" Oz asked as they started moving through the cafeteria line, grabbing their food.

"Kathy," Willow admitted, her voice dropping as if the mere mention of her roommate's name was enough to summon her.

Oz raised an eyebrow, but didn't press, understanding the intricacies of Willow's feelings without needing an explanation. They reached the cashier, paid for their lunches, and scanned the room. Spotting Buffy, Faith, and Xander at a table by the window, they made their way over.

"Hey. Say hi to non-college guy," Xander greeted them with a broad grin, clearly enjoying the teasing as everyone exchanged greetings.

Buffy smirked, her eyebrow quirking as she asked, "Not that I mind, but don't you non-college guys usually populate the non-campus?"

"Usually," Xander admitted, shrugging. "But I thought I'd come 'round and check on my girls," he said, flashing his usual charming smile.

"And eat off my tray," Faith chimed in, giving Xander a look as she nudged her plate slightly out of his reach. He had already snatched a few fries and was munching on them casually.

"What's the deal, Xand?" Buffy asked, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Don't your parents feed you?"

"Sure, they do. For a price," Xander replied with a wry grin. "So, what's up, Buff? Faith? Any vamp action?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, but Willow got jumped by a demon of non-specific origin last night."

Faith, leaning back in her chair, added casually, "Which ran off."

"Yeah? Something apocalypse-y? Do we need to assemble the Scooby gang?" Xander asked, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes, clearly eager for some action.

"Thanks, but Faith and I are okay," Buffy said, giving him a reassuring look.

Xander paused, deflating slightly. "I just got way too excited, didn't I?" he muttered, almost as if he couldn't help himself.

"You really should get out of the basement, Xan," Faith teased, shooting him a smirk. Her words, though playful, carried a layer of truth that made Xander grin sheepishly.

Before Xander could respond, they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Kathy, who bounced over to the table, completely oblivious to any tension. "Hi everybody. Squeeze in," she chirped, sliding herself in between Willow and Xander, forcing both of them to shift uncomfortably to make space.

Willow's expression tightened, her forced smile barely holding together as she introduced Kathy, "You all know Kathy, my roomie?" Her tone was polite but had an unmistakable edge, like she was biting down on every word.

Faith, Buffy, and Oz gave small nods and polite greetings, though Faith's eyes flicked over to Willow, sensing her discomfort.

It was then that Willow noticed something that pushed her irritation over the edge. "Is that my sweater?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she spotted Kathy wearing her favorite top.

Kathy, completely unfazed, flashed a bright, innocent smile. "I didn't think you'd mind," she said sweetly, as if borrowing without asking was no big deal. "It's not a problem, is it? I mean, I figure we're almost like sisters now—living together and everything."

Xander, Oz, Buffy, Faith, and Kathy all turned their attention to Willow, waiting for her response. The pressure of the moment weighed heavily on her—she didn't want to come off as petty, but seeing her sweater on Kathy, without permission, made her insides churn. With a forced smile that felt more like a mask, she responded, "No. No. It's cool. I just wished you'd asked."

With that, everyone seemed to relax. The conversation shifted back to normal, the tension diffusing as if nothing had happened. Buffy leaned into a casual chat with Oz, while Faith glanced around the cafeteria, ever alert for potential trouble. Meanwhile, Xander struck up a conversation with Kathy, the two of them chatting easily.

Except Willow. She couldn't relax. Her focus remained laser-fixed on the sweater—the sweater Kathy was now wearing and… eating in. She watched with growing discomfort as Kathy continued to chat with Xander, barely registering the concern etched on Willow's face. The sweater suddenly felt like a battlefield, an object of both offense and awkward surrender. Willow's mind whirled, her thoughts replaying the audacity of it all.

"So, where are you from, Kathy?" Xander asked, taking a bite of his sandwich, completely oblivious to Willow's inner turmoil.

"Nebraska, originally," Kathy replied, casually lifting a juicy burger to her lips. She took a large, carefree bite, unaware of the storm brewing next to her.

Willow's heart raced as she watched Kathy chomp down on the burger. She had a sinking feeling in her gut, a terrible premonition about what was coming next. Time seemed to slow as Kathy talked, every motion in excruciating detail to Willow's frayed nerves.

"Ah, yes. Big sky country," Xander quipped. "I know it well."

Willow's hands clenched her napkin. Her breathing quickened, eyes now fixed in horror as a large, glistening glob of ketchup slipped from the bottom of Kathy's burger and plummeted toward the sweater. Like a vivid drop of red rain, it splattered onto the fabric, soaking into the soft fibers. The red blotch spread like an offensive stain, far too big to ignore.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, the ketchup stain morphing in her mind into a symbol of everything wrong with her living situation. The room seemed to close in, the chatter around her fading as she focused solely on the ruined sweater.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow sat cross-legged on her bed, wearing her nightgown and cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear. Her expression was tense, fingers absentmindedly sorting through her backpack. Papers rustled, a pencil rolled onto the floor, and she pulled out an apple, setting it aside before finding what she was really after—a pack of gum. Popping a stick into her mouth, she chewed angrily, her jaws working out the frustration brewing inside her.

"I mean, can you believe her?" Willow snapped, her voice thick with irritation as she spoke into the phone. Each chew punctuated her words. "First, she acts like she has sit privileges at our lunch table just because some computer decided we should be roommates!"

Buffy's voice on the other end sounded calm, almost soothing in contrast. "I'm sure it's not easy for her," she offered. "She's not like you—she doesn't know anybody here."

Willow's eyes rolled in exasperation, her free hand waving dismissively as though Buffy could see the gesture. "Fine, whatever. What about my sweater, Buffy? You can't believe the stuff I have to put up with!"

Buffy sighed, understanding but still trying to calm her down. "Yeah, I guess it's hard, but I'm sure the sweater thing was an accident."

"I don't know, Buffy. I really don't think I can stand another day of this!" Willow's voice rose in pitch, the intensity of her irritation palpable. Her chewing slowed when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps padding down the hallway. Her eyes darted toward the door as her heart sank. "She's back from the bathroom. Later," she said quickly, hanging up the phone with a sharp click.

Just as she suspected, Kathy appeared in the doorway, smiling in a way that felt more like a taunt than anything friendly. "Don't forget to log those calls," she sang out, her voice sugary sweet, with a tinge of condescension. As she settled in, she whipped out a piece of dental floss and began methodically working on her teeth, the thread pulling between her gums with a sharp, intrusive twang.

Willow watched, biting back a grimace. The sight of Kathy's flossing routine always churned her stomach in a way that felt deeply personal—an unspoken violation of their shared space. Needing a distraction, Willow grabbed the apple from her bed and made her way to their little fridge. But when she opened the door, her annoyance deepened. There it was: nearly everything inside was labeled Kathy. Lined up neatly, in bold black marker, each item was unmistakably claimed.

Her grip tightened around the apple as her blood simmered. She slammed the fridge door shut with a force that rattled the entire appliance, barely holding back her frustration. As she turned back to her bed, something else caught her eye—the window. It was closed. Of course, Kathy would have closed it. Willow marched over and threw it open, letting the night air flood in, cooling her heated skin.

Kathy watched all of this with a growing frown, her flossing coming to a deliberate stop. "Ehh. Who left their gum here?" Kathy's voice broke the silence, her eyes narrowing as she peeled one of her books off the desk. The thick wad of gum stuck to the back of it glistened mockingly.

Willow froze mid-chew, but quickly composed herself, her face a picture of innocence. "Gum gnome?" she offered, blinking with faux naivety.

Kathy glared, clearly unimpressed. "It wasn't me. It had to be somebody, Willow."

Willow shrugged, feigning ignorance as she discreetly swallowed the evidence. "Huh. Don't know."

Kathy's eyes flashed with anger, her mouth tightening into a thin line. Without another word, she slammed her book back onto the desk, turned sharply, and flicked off her light. "Fine," she muttered, the word clipped and full of unspoken frustration.

Willow couldn't help but smirk in the darkness, feeling an undeniable sense of victory as she leaned back on her bed. "Fine," she echoed smugly, turning out her own light with a small, triumphant smile lingering on her lips. The night stretched on, and despite everything, Willow felt, for once, like she'd come out on top.

U.C. Sunnydale – Paths

Buffy's boots crunched softly against the gravel path as she moved through the shadowed campus, her senses on alert. The cool night air wrapped around her like a familiar companion, the quiet hum of insects and distant voices barely registering. She was used to the solitude that came with patrolling, the moments when the world felt almost peaceful despite the lurking dangers. So when she heard a familiar voice behind her, it startled her more than any demon could have.

"Hey, Buffy," Elizabeth said, her voice light but warm, as she jogged up to her older sister.

Buffy turned, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Elizabeth? What are you doing here?"

Elizabeth slowed to a stop beside her, slightly out of breath, but grinning. "Dawn and I were talking to Faith earlier, and she mentioned you were patrolling alone tonight. Thought I'd come and keep you company." She gave Buffy a playful nudge. "Mom dropped me off a little bit ago."

Buffy's face softened, a mix of affection and concern playing across her features. "You didn't have to. I can handle this."

"I know," Elizabeth replied with a shrug, her eyes scanning the dark trees around them. "But I wanted to. Besides, it's been a while since we had some sister time." Then her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Buffy's face. "Hey… are you okay?"

Buffy blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, she hesitated, but then her lips curved into a confident smile. "I'm great. Actually, I had my meeting with the modeling agent yesterday."

Elizabeth's expression brightened instantly. "Really? How did it go?"

"Good! We're doing some portfolio shots on Saturday, and after that, she's going to start lining up some shoots for me." Buffy's voice was excited, a flicker of pride lighting up her eyes. "It feels... weird, but in a good way."

Elizabeth's smile widened, a mixture of admiration and pride for her sister shining through. "That's great, Buffy! I'm really happy for you."

Buffy chuckled softly, the weight of patrolling momentarily lifting as they continued walking side by side. But Elizabeth's smile faded just a little, her tone becoming more serious. "Now, I think we should talk about Willow."

Buffy's shoulders slumped slightly, the tension returning. She sighed, casting a glance at the ground before looking back up at her sister. "Yeah, I'm worried about her."

Elizabeth nodded, her brow furrowing in concern. "Faith mentioned she's been acting kind of off lately."

"More than kind of," Buffy said, exhaling a heavy breath. "I think she's starting to believe her roommate is... out to get her or something. Like, it's really getting to her."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, her gaze focused ahead as they walked. "Do you think it's just the stress of school? Or is it something more?"

Buffy shook her head slowly. "I don't know. Willow's been through a lot, and this whole thing with Kathy... It just doesn't seem like her. She's usually so logical. But now? She's paranoid. She talks about Kathy like she's some sort of—" Buffy paused, searching for the right word. "I don't know, like she's plotting against her or something."

Elizabeth frowned. "That's not good. Have you talked to her about it?"

"Yeah, a little. But you know Willow. She doesn't want to admit that she's freaking out." Buffy's voice softened with concern. "I just hope she's okay. I've never seen her like this."

Elizabeth slipped her arm through Buffy's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, Buffy. Willow's strong, and she's got us. Whatever's going on, we'll help her through it."

Buffy looked at her sister, grateful for the support. "Thanks, Liz. I hope you're right." They continued down the path, the night stretching out before them, and the bond between them steadying Buffy's heart just a little more.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow lay tangled in her sheets, her body restless as her mind plunged deeper into the nightmare. The soft moonlight from the window cast eerie shadows on the walls of her dorm room, but in her dream, everything was saturated in darkness, thick and oppressive. She stood frozen in place, her breath shallow, as the demon loomed over her. Its hulking form was wrapped in the same ragged cloak she remembered from the night before, but now, its burning red eyes glowed more fiercely, casting flickers of light across the sharp, cruel angles of its face.

The demon's lips moved, but the words were not meant for her to understand. The guttural chant that emerged from its throat was harsh and rasping, like rocks scraping together, the sound vibrating through the very air around her. The rhythm of the chant seemed to seep into her bones, chilling her from the inside out.

Suddenly, with a swift, terrible motion, the demon forced Willow's mouth open, her jaw aching from the unnatural pressure. A slick, metallic taste hit her tongue as a thick, crimson liquid began to pour into her mouth. The sensation was repulsive—warm and coppery—filling her with dread as it slid down her throat, leaving a burning trail in its wake. She tried to scream, but no sound came, her body paralyzed by the force of the demon's will.

Without warning, the creature produced several leeches, their writhing black bodies glistening in the dim light. He placed them on her bare stomach, the cold, slimy touch of their bodies sending waves of nausea through her. Willow's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the leeches latch onto her skin, their tiny mouths beginning to suck with an unbearable, pulsing pressure.

The nightmare grew more grotesque as the demon leaned over her, his fingers curling under her chin to pry her mouth open again. A sickly green glow emanated from his throat, swirling like smoke before it spilled into the air and flowed toward her. The light had an otherworldly quality, viscous and thick, as it entered her mouth, seeping into her like poison.

She could feel the light—feel it worming its way into her, cold and invasive, twisting deep inside her soul. Her body trembled under its strange, malevolent power. The light swirled in her chest, and for a moment, she felt as though she was dissolving from the inside, becoming something unrecognizable.

But then, the color of the light shifted. The once-green glow morphed into a dark, shadowy hue, as though the demon was pulling it back, retracting its hold on her. Willow's mouth remained open as the light reversed course, streaming back into the demon's gaping maw, as though he was drawing her very essence into himself. The suction grew stronger, and she could feel the demon feeding on something inside her, as if draining her energy, her very being.

September 22, 1999 – Wednesday

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow bolted upright, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat. The remnants of the nightmare clung to her like a heavy fog, her heart still racing from the vivid horror she had just experienced. She could feel the lingering sensation of the demon's cold light in her throat, as if it had left some ghostly residue behind. Her hands trembled as she clutched the sheets, trying to steady herself, trying to convince herself it was just a dream.

Across the room, Kathy sat up in her bed, her eyes narrowing in irritation. The dim glow from the streetlights outside cast an odd, ghostly hue over her features, making her look even more displeased. Her brow furrowed, she folded her arms across her chest, clearly more concerned with her interrupted sleep than whatever had just happened to Willow.

"Do you always make that noise when you sleep?" Kathy asked, her voice flat and indifferent.

Willow blinked, still disoriented, her pulse still thudding in her ears. The question, so blunt and lacking in any hint of empathy, cut through the haze of fear still clinging to her. It wasn't just the nightmare that rattled her now—it was the sheer callousness in Kathy's tone, the complete lack of concern. She felt a wave of irritation rising within her, mingling with the leftover terror from the dream.

She opened her mouth to respond but found her words tangled in a knot of disbelief. How could Kathy be so utterly unaffected, sitting there like the most inconvenient thing in her night was a sound? Willow swallowed hard, the phantom sensation of the leeches and the demon's touch still making her skin crawl. She clenched her jaw, trying to bury the frustration that threatened to spill out.

But the exhaustion from restless sleep and the unsettling imagery from her nightmare left her feeling raw, fragile. "Seriously?" she muttered, her voice trembling ever so slightly. She glanced at Kathy, who stared back, unblinking, waiting for an answer as if the nightmare didn't even matter.

U.C. Sunnydale – Commons

Willow sat at the table with her friends, the usual bustling energy of the commons seeming distant as she relayed the unsettling details of her dream. Her voice trembled slightly as she recounted the disturbing imagery, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"So then, after the leeches, the demon opens my mouth and sucks some kind of weird light out of me," she said, her eyes darting nervously around the group, seeking understanding. "But the worst part is—I wake up, and there's Kathy, just looking at me like I'm some kind of freak."

Oz, who had been listening intently, leaned forward with a look of quiet concern. "Actually—worst part?" he said softly, his hand finding Willow's under the table. "I'd have to go with the demon pouring blood down your throat."

Willow sighed, grateful for Oz's comfort but still frustrated. "But that was a dream, and the Kathy thing is real," she said, her voice edged with irritation. "All she cared about was the fact that her precious sleep had been disturbed—like I was the problem."

Buffy and Faith exchanged uneasy glances, the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Giles, who had been quietly absorbing everything, cleared his throat gently. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed with thought.

"Perhaps it would be more…" Giles began, his tone careful, "productive to examine your dreams, try to determine their meaning—" His words trailed off as his gaze shifted, and the entire group froze as they noticed Kathy standing right behind Willow, her usual chipper expression plastered on her face.

"You can read dreams? Neat," Kathy said with a bright, oblivious smile, her attention now focused on Giles.

Willow didn't even try to mask her irritation. Her fake smile faltered as she gritted her teeth, forcing out, "Kathy. Giles. Giles. Kathy." She gestured lazily between them, barely concealing her annoyance.

"He's a friend of ours," Faith added, offering a tight smile as she sized up Kathy, clearly trying to figure out her angle.

Giles, ever the gentleman, extended a polite nod, though his eyes were guarded. "Nice to meet you, Kathy."

"Ditto," Kathy replied, as if she'd walked into a casual conversation about the weather. She turned her attention back to the group, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Maybe you can read the dream I had last night. There was like, this monster. And he sat on me and did all this stuff to me—" she added, almost too cheerfully for the eerie content of her words.

Willow's heart skipped a beat, her stomach twisting with an uneasy sense of déjà vu. Oz caught her reaction immediately, his voice calm but his eyes sharp as he asked, "Stuff like leeches? And a Bloody Mary minus the Mary?"

Kathy blinked, surprised. "That's it. How did you know?" she asked, her smile faltering for the first time.

"Oz is a good guesser," Buffy said, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes as she watched the exchange unfold.

"Me too," Willow replied, her tone dripping with a sweetness that barely masked her irritation. "And I'm guessing you have to be on your way to class—right, Kath?" She raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of challenge and sarcasm.

"Sounds like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Kathy shot back, her voice light, but Willow could sense the tension lurking beneath.

"And, guess what? You were next to it," Willow snapped, unable to hold back her biting retort.

Kathy feigned innocence, rolling her eyes. "You know—I do have to dash. My whole schedule is off because someone kept me up all night," she said, her tone overly dramatic. "Well, it's been fun—toodles!" With a flourish, she turned to leave, but not before Willow's irritation flared once more.

"Toodles," Willow echoed, her voice laced with barely concealed anger as Kathy walked away.

The table fell into a heavy silence. Buffy, Faith, Giles, and Oz exchanged glances, all slightly taken aback by the obvious hostility that had erupted between Willow and Kathy.

"You know what this means?" Giles said, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Yeah. It wasn't enough for her to take my sweater; now she has to horn in on my dreams!" Willow said, her frustration spilling over. "She's the most ever mooch—oh! And I haven't even gotten to the floss," she added, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Willow. Focus. Please," Giles urged, his tone firm yet gentle. "If you and Kathy are having the same nightmares, chances are good something happened to you two the night you encountered that demon in the woods."

"So—we need to figure out if this ritual they're dreaming about has some special use or meaning," Buffy said, her brow furrowing as she considered the implications of their discussion. The weight of the situation hung in the air like a thick fog, filling the commons with a sense of urgency.

Willow stood, gathering her things with a focused determination. "I've got class. I'll help you research after class," she said, her voice clipped as she turned on her heel and walked off, the sound of her backpack thudding softly against her back echoing her inner turmoil.

"That was the doppelganger of Red that you guys told me about that came from the world Elizabeth is from, right?" Faith asked, glancing between Buffy and Oz, her tone laced with concern. The mystery of Willow's behavior gnawed at her, and the weight of the situation felt heavy on her shoulders.

"She's definitely pushing the stress meter on this Kathy thing," Oz chimed in, worry etched across his features as he thought of Willow. He felt a deep sense of protectiveness for her, knowing how hard it was for his girlfriend to navigate the complexities of living with someone like Kathy.

"I have to agree that Willow doesn't seem herself," Buffy added, her voice thoughtful. "But learning to live with someone can be a challenge. As Faith and I found out when Faith first moved in with me last year." The memories of their own adjustment period flickered through her mind, filled with laughter, arguments, and eventual understanding.

"And Red hasn't been sleeping," Faith interjected, her expression growing serious. She felt the weight of their collective concern, the bond of friendship pushing them to look out for one another.

"Right then. Nothing to be concerned about," Giles said, though his tone carried a hint of uncertainty. "Still, do let me know if she…"

"Hits the red zone?" Oz finished, the gravity of his words settling in as they all turned to look in the direction Willow had moved off in, their expressions a mix of worry and resolve.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow was about to open the door when she heard Mariah Carey's unmistakable vocals blaring from the stereo inside her dorm room. Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as irritation surged through her. The incessant pop anthem, too loud and too cheery, felt like a personal affront to her already frazzled nerves. She gritted her teeth, trying to compose herself, and entered the room.

Inside, Kathy sat casually on her bed, legs crossed and posture relaxed, looking overly chummy with Oz. Willow's stomach twisted at the sight, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the cozy scene.

"…lots of popular artists who don't get their due. Madonna, Whitney…" Oz was saying, his tone conversational, completely at ease.

"It's so totally true," Kathy chimed in, her voice dripping with agreement, like she and Oz had been best friends forever.

Willow's eyes flicked between them, her discomfort rising, tinged with a creeping jealousy. "Oz," she said, her tone pointed as she stared at him, feeling like an intruder in her own space.

Oz stood immediately, walking over to Willow with that familiar, calm expression of his. "Just thought I would stop in and check on you," he said with a soft smile, his presence warm and reassuring, but it did little to ease the unease twisting in Willow's gut.

Kathy remained perched on the bed, unbothered, her smile unnervingly sweet. "Oz was just going to go when he saw you weren't here," she said brightly. "But then we started talking, and—he is such a blast. The time just flew." Her voice had an irritating sing-song quality that grated on Willow's already taut nerves.

Willow, biting back her frustration, turned to Oz, trying to keep her voice calm despite the jealousy gnawing at her insides. "Time? Really? How much time?" She forced a smile, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

Oz, ever innocent, smiled back, seemingly unaware of the tension swirling around them. "I'm not sure," he said nonchalantly, his tone casual. "We sort of got caught up. Look, I've got to go, I'm going to see you at the Bronze, right?"

Willow nodded, a little forced but still managing a genuine smile for him. "Yeah," she agreed. As Oz gave her a parting smile and started for the door, her heart softened a bit—until she caught Kathy's lingering gaze.

"Bye, Kathy," Oz said over his shoulder, as casual as ever.

"Bye. See you," Kathy replied with an overly friendly wave, her voice light and breezy, as if the moment wasn't as loaded for Willow as it was.

Willow closed the door after Oz, her heart thudding in her chest, the momentary relief of his departure quickly swallowed by the sharp-edged tension still lingering between her and Kathy. She turned, her eyes locking onto her roommate, and the frustration she'd been biting back all day bubbled over.

"Oz is my boyfriend," Willow said, her voice steely, the unspoken warning hanging thick in the air. "Keep your hands off him." Her words carried the weight of all the frustrations Kathy had stirred within her, the territorial edge unmistakable.

Fuming, Kathy stormed over to the open window, the frustration radiating off her in waves. With a sharp motion, she yanked it shut, the pane rattling slightly from the force. "I wasn't moving in on your territory," she snapped, her voice tight with irritation. She then glanced at the floor, eyes narrowing at the disheveled rug Willow had kicked. With a huff, she straightened it with meticulous precision, her need for control showing in every sharp tug. Her hands shook slightly as she grabbed her dental floss from her nightstand, and soon she was furiously flossing, the string slicing through her teeth with a vengeance. Each motion seemed to echo her rising anger, like she was physically trying to scrape away the irritation Willow caused her.

Across the room, Willow wasn't paying her any mind—or at least, that's what she wanted Kathy to think. In reality, Willow's annoyance was bubbling just below the surface. She calmly removed a padlock from her backpack, her movements slow and deliberate as she made her way to her closet. "Right," Willow replied sarcastically, her tone biting. "Just like you didn't destroy my cardigan."

With a defiant flick of her wrist, she affixed the lock to her closet door, the metallic snap ringing out with a satisfying finality. Willow stepped back, admiring her work for a moment, her lips curling in a small, bitter smile. But her defiance wasn't done. In a single sweeping motion, she kicked the rug out of place again as she marched over to the window, undoing Kathy's effort, and pulled it open with force. The cool night air rushed back in, but Willow barely noticed.

Kathy, on the other hand, felt the chill instantly. "I'm cold," she said through gritted teeth, her arms crossing over her chest, trying to hold onto some sense of control.

Willow turned; her gaze unyielding. "Well, I'm hot. Deal with it." Her tone was flat, sharp as a blade, leaving no room for argument.

That did it. Kathy shot up from her bed, her anger boiling over as she squared her shoulders and glared at Willow. "You know what your problem is, Willow?" she spat, her voice shaking slightly from barely-contained rage.

Willow didn't flinch, her own irritation mixing with a dark amusement. "You?" she retorted, her tone laced with venom.

Kathy shook her head, her hands clenched into fists. "Hardly. Your problem is—you're spoiled," she said, her words biting like the chill outside. "Maybe the world revolved around you where you used to live, but it's share time now!"

That was the final straw. Willow felt something snap inside her. Her pulse quickened, her vision narrowed, and a cold, reckless fury took hold. "Share time?" she repeated, her voice trembling with a kind of dangerous calm. "It's share time? Fine. I'll show you share time."

With that, Willow stormed toward the mini-fridge they shared, eyes locked on Kathy the entire time. She ripped it open and grabbed Kathy's milk, her movements fueled by adrenaline and a raw, unbridled anger. Without hesitation, she brought the carton to her lips and began chugging, the cold liquid spilling down her throat.

She didn't stop. She kept drinking, even as the milk began to slosh over the sides of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck in thick, white rivulets. It stained her shirt and splattered onto the floor, but Willow didn't care. She drank and drank, her eyes never leaving Kathy's, daring her to say something.

The Bronze

Buffy sat with Willow at their usual table, the low thrum of music from the stage blending with the buzz of the Bronze around them. The crowd swayed, lost in the energy of Dingoes Ate My Baby as Oz and the band jammed under the colored lights. But even with the familiar scene playing out, Willow was agitated, her emotions bubbling over as she vented.

"So then she's like—'It's share time!'" Willow mimicked Kathy's voice with exaggerated frustration, her eyes wide with mock outrage. "And I'm like—'Oh yeah? Share this!'" She mimed throwing a punch at the air, her fists jabbing with mock ferocity as she imagined pummeling Kathy into oblivion.

Buffy leaned back in her chair, one eyebrow raised, watching Willow's miniature outburst with a mix of concern and amusement. "So... you either hit her—or you pretended to?" she asked, her tone calm but probing, a gentle nudge toward reality.

Willow's hands dropped, her shoulders sagging a little as her imaginary fight lost steam. "I didn't do either, actually," she admitted, a bit sheepish. Her frustration simmered just beneath the surface, though, bubbling up again with a slight pout. "But she deserved it, don't you think?"

Buffy tilted her head, looking at Willow thoughtfully. "Will…"

But Willow wasn't finished. "Kathy should be locked in an invisible box and blown away by an imaginary wind, and... and..." Her mind raced, searching for the ultimate punishment for her overly-annoying roommate.

Buffy couldn't resist, jumping in with a dry smile. "Forced to wear a binding unitard."

Willow's eyes lit up. "Yes! The itchy kind. Perfect," she said, a grin breaking through the tension on her face.

"Just here to help," Buffy said, her expression warm as she leaned on the table, relieved to see Willow smiling, even if it was over an imaginary scenario of Kathy's doom. But beneath her light tone, there was a flicker of concern for her friend that she couldn't shake.

As the music from the stage swelled, something occurred to Buffy. Her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced back at Willow. "Wait—weren't you and Faith supposed to be patrolling tonight? So why are you here, hanging with me?"

Willow hesitated for a moment, fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of her. "Because I'm worried about you, Will," Buffy added softly, reading the hesitance in her friend's eyes. "I get that you and Kathy aren't getting along. But…" Her voice trailed off, leaving the concern hanging in the air like a question she didn't need to ask outright.

Willow fidgeted under Buffy's concerned gaze, her fingers twisting the napkin into tighter knots. She wasn't used to Buffy being the one to worry about her—it was usually the other way around, but now, the weight of Kathy's relentless presence in her life felt like a suffocating pressure. Willow sighed, trying to mask the turmoil behind a small, forced smile.

"But what?" Willow asked, her voice softer now, less defensive than before. She knew what Buffy was hinting at, but she didn't want to say it out loud. She didn't want to admit that Kathy was more than just an annoyance—that she was really getting to her.

Buffy leaned forward; her tone gentle but firm. "But you're not yourself, Will. I've seen you stressed before—hello, apocalypse season every year—but this is different. It's like… she's getting under your skin more than she should. And not in a regular 'roommate-is-a-pain' way."

Willow opened her mouth to protest but then hesitated. She couldn't shake how real the nightmares had felt, how Kathy seemed to creep into every corner of her life, like some kind of invasive weed. And the dream they'd shared... that was no coincidence.

"I know, Buff. I do," Willow admitted, her voice low. She leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands. "It's just... she's everywhere. In my stuff, in my head, in my dreams. It's like no matter what I do, she's there. And it's not just annoying—it's... I don't know. It feels wrong somehow."

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow and Kathy, both stewing in their pajamas, were locked in a tense, unspoken battle of wills. The small dorm room felt like a pressure cooker, each of them simmering with silent fury. Willow sat rigid at her desk, her back straight, eyes narrow as she tried to focus on her notes. Across the room, Kathy sat cross-legged on her bed, her movements precise as she clipped her toenails. The metallic snip of the clippers punctuated the otherwise quiet room, each clip sending tiny arcs of toenail spinning through the air before landing haphazardly on the floor.

Willow's lip curled in disgust as she eyed the growing collection of Kathy's clippings littering the floor. This is beyond gross, she thought, her skin crawling. Her pencil, which had been tapping lightly on her desk, began to hit harder and faster, each tap reflecting her rising irritation. It was as if every click of Kathy's clippers was a challenge—a personal affront that chipped away at her patience.

Across the room, Kathy's head jerked slightly with each rapid-fire tap of the pencil. To her, it might as well have been gunshots. Each one was louder, more grating than the last, until it felt like they were ricocheting off the walls of her skull. Her jaw tightened, the noise shredding what little calm she had left. Without a word, she stood and stalked over to her stereo, the tension palpable in every movement. She flipped it on, and suddenly the room was assaulted by the soaring, dramatic vocals of Celine Dion, blasting from the speakers like a declaration of war.

Willow's pencil snapped in half under the force of her grip, the sharp crack lost under the wail of Celine's high notes. Her frustration boiled over as she yanked open her desk drawer and pulled out a pair of earmuffs. Slamming them onto her head, she muffled the noise, shutting out Kathy's obnoxious choice of music. But even with the quiet bliss of the earmuffs, she could still feel Kathy's presence—the passive-aggressive energy radiating from her across the room.

Kathy, seemingly oblivious or perhaps relishing the tension, sauntered over to the refrigerator. She pulled out an egg—one of her meticulously labeled ones—and rolled it on her desk to crack the shell. Willow's eyes flicked over to her, watching with a mounting sense of dread. She braced herself, knowing exactly what was coming next. Sure enough, Kathy peeled the egg and, with a deliberate slowness that made Willow's stomach turn, took a big, wet bite.

Willow's mouth fell open in silent horror as Kathy chewed. The squish of the egg, the way it glistened in the low light, the whole scene was unbearable. The earmuffs came off in a flash. "That's it. I'm going to sleep," Willow announced, her voice taut with exasperation as she threw her hands up in surrender.

Kathy's lips curved into a saccharine smile as she cooed, "Sweet dreams." The words dripped with insincerity, the kind that made Willow want to throw something.

Without another word, Willow snapped her desk light off and flung herself onto her bed, turning her back to Kathy. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out everything—Kathy, the eggs, Celine Dion, the constant irritation that felt like it was gnawing away at her sanity.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow's body twisted beneath the sheets, her face contorted in fear as she was once again trapped in the nightmarish grip of the demon. Her breath came in shallow, panicked gasps as she found herself bound in the dream world, her bare stomach exposed to the icy air. The demon loomed over her like a dark, oppressive shadow, its hulking figure outlined by a faint, sickly glow. Its clawed hands worked with slow, deliberate precision, dipping into a bowl of red liquid that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light.

Her heart raced as the demon began to trace ancient symbols across her pale skin, the liquid cold as it touched her, sending shivers of dread through her. The symbols, intricate and terrifying, seemed to pulse with a life of their own, glowing faintly as if imbued with some dark power. Willow tried to move, to scream, but she was frozen—her limbs heavy and unresponsive, as if the very air around her conspired to hold her down.

The demon's guttural chanting filled her ears, each twisted word reverberating in her skull, making her head throb. It forced her mouth open again, its long, clawed fingers pressing her jaw wide as it drew forth the eerie, pulsating light from deep within her. The sickly green glow swirled into the air between them, twisting and writhing like a living thing, before the demon inhaled it greedily, absorbing her essence into itself.

As the light left her body, a cold, hollow feeling settled in her chest, as if she were being drained of something vital, something that made her her. Terror washed over Willow, her eyes wide with horror as she lay helpless beneath the demon's unyielding presence. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her voice wouldn't come, her body refusing to obey her will.

And then, just when she thought it couldn't get worse, she felt the soft, wet slither of something crawling over her skin. She looked down in revulsion to see leeches—dozens of them—squirming over her exposed body, their slimy bodies leaving trails of slick, cold dread as they wriggled across her stomach and legs. Their small, grotesque mouths latched onto her skin, feeding off her helplessness, sucking away what little strength she had left.

She was utterly powerless, trapped in this hellish nightmare, her mind racing with fear as the demon continued its dark ritual. Every second felt like an eternity as the weight of her terror crushed her, the suffocating helplessness almost too much to bear.

September 22, 1999 – Wednesday

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Willow jolted awake, her heart pounding against her ribcage, each breath labored and sharp. She blinked rapidly, disoriented as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. Sweat clung to her skin, making the sheets stick uncomfortably to her legs. For a few moments, she sat there, frozen, her mind still trapped in the vivid remnants of the nightmare, her body aching as if she had physically endured the horrors from her dream.

But then, the panic that had gripped her began to give way to something far more potent—anger. She clenched her fists, feeling her nails dig into her palms, grounding herself in the present. The ritual in her dreams, the demon's grotesque form, the violation of her very soul—it was too much. Her eyes narrowed, the helplessness she'd felt moments ago boiling into a fierce, simmering rage. She was done being a victim to whatever dark forces were playing with her mind.

She sat up, shaking off the last clinging vestiges of terror that lingered from the nightmare. Her breath came out in a frustrated huff, and she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched tightly as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor with a determined thud. This couldn't go on. The nightmares were relentless, stripping away her sense of control, her peace. And she was sick of it.

The demon, whatever it was, had made a serious mistake targeting her—again. Willow wasn't weak. She wasn't going to just lie down and let herself be used in this grotesque ritual night after night. She was a witch, a fighter, and she wasn't going to let some dream demon mess with her like this. Her resolve hardened with every passing second, anger coiling inside her like a spring ready to snap.

"This ends now," she muttered under her breath, her voice low but full of steely determination.

She stood up, determination flooding her veins, pushing aside the lingering fear. Willow's eyes flicked toward the window, then back to the dark corners of the room, her thoughts racing with plans to fight back. Whatever this demon wanted, whatever twisted ritual it was trying to complete—she was going to figure it out and stop it. No more leeches. No more blood. No more nightmares.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Outside in the hallway, Kathy's voice was grating, her words filled with exaggerated frustration. She paced slightly, gesturing as she spoke to Buffy, her tone carrying the air of someone trying to gather sympathy. "...I do what I can, but Willow's difficult. She's so secretive, for one thing. And the gum—she leaves it everywhere," she emphasized, as if the transgression were unforgivable.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably, arms crossed, feeling caught in a situation that was rapidly spiraling into something far more awkward than she'd intended. She offered a tentative smile, her words careful. "Sounds like things are rough, but—don't you think you should be talking to Willow about this?" She glanced toward the closed door, as if willing Willow to appear and cut this conversation short.

Kathy huffed, rolling her eyes in frustration, clearly feeling justified in her venting. "I would if she wasn't so touchy. About, like, all kinds of weird stuff." Her voice dropped conspiratorially as she leaned slightly closer to Buffy. "I mean, sometimes I get the feeling she's not quite... normal. You know?"

The word "normal" hung in the air, the sharpness of it making Buffy wince. Before she could respond, she caught a glimpse of movement down the hall. Her gaze shifted to see Willow stepping out of their dorm room, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as they landed on Kathy. The tension between the two girls was palpable, and Buffy felt it settle over her like a heavy weight.

Buffy forced a polite smile, trying to de-escalate the growing unease. "Well, normal is… relative, right?" she said, her voice light, but even she could sense how weak the attempt sounded. She glanced over at Kathy, who had also spotted Willow approaching, her body stiffening as if caught red-handed.

"Later—okay?" Kathy mumbled quickly, her eyes darting between Willow and Buffy before she turned on her heel and hurried off down the hall, her pace brisk as if she couldn't escape fast enough.

Willow's gaze flickered between Kathy's retreating figure and Buffy, suspicion and irritation plain in her expression. "Why were you talking to her?" she demanded, her voice sharp as she stopped next to Buffy, clearly unhappy about the encounter she had just witnessed.

Buffy sighed, already sensing where this was going. She raised a hand in a calming gesture. "Willow, come on. We were just saying hi," she explained, her voice soft but firm, hoping to ease the tension.

But Willow wasn't buying it. Her eyes darkened, her voice lowering in frustration. "That's just what she wants you to think—" she began, her paranoia creeping into her tone, as if convinced that Kathy was orchestrating some sort of elaborate plot.

Buffy, tired of walking the tightrope between her friend and Kathy, cut her off gently but firmly. "Willow, this has to stop," she said, concern mixing with exasperation. She placed a hand on Willow's arm, hoping the touch would ground her. "I mean, I get it—Faith and I didn't get along at first either. But you have to deal."

"You're right. I've been thinking a lot about it. It's clear to me now," Willow said, her tone beginning with a calm certainty that should have been reassuring but wasn't. There was something unsettling in the sharpness of her voice, an edge that made Buffy pause.

"Good. That's better," Buffy said, trying to sound supportive, but her eyes flicked over Willow, searching for any sign that her friend was actually calming down. Instead, Willow's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing with a chilling intensity.

"Kathy's evil," Willow said, her voice even, almost frighteningly calm. "I have to kill her."

Buffy blinked, utterly stunned by the bluntness of Willow's declaration. The sheer coldness in her voice sent a wave of unease through Buffy. It took her a moment to find her own voice. "Don't you think you could just… switch rooms or something?" she offered, trying to diffuse the tension with a practical solution.

But Willow, suddenly frantic and on edge, began digging into her pocket with feverish determination. She pulled out a small ziplock bag and held it up triumphantly, as if she had just produced irrefutable evidence. "I would, but it's not just me in danger from Kathy. Look." Her voice sped up, verging on manic as she thrust the bag into Buffy's hand.

Buffy stared at the bag, her confusion growing. Inside were small, crescent-shaped clippings. "Toenails," she muttered, completely baffled.

"Evil toenails," Willow corrected, as if the distinction were obvious. "I collected them off the floor when she was in the bathroom last night." Her eyes gleamed with conviction. "She thought I was asleep."

Buffy, still trying to make sense of this, held the bag up and squinted at it. "Good thinking," she quipped, slipping into sarcasm out of sheer disbelief. "'Cause, in the middle of the night, those toenails could have attacked you and left little half-moon marks all over your body."

"Don't be ridiculous," Willow snapped, missing the sarcasm completely. "The point is—I measured them before I fell asleep and again this morning. And they grew, after they were cut. A lot. That's a demon thing. That's heavily creature-from-elsewhere if you ask me." Her eyes burned with a manic intensity as she spoke. "She has to be eliminated."

Buffy fought to keep her composure, realizing just how far Willow had spiraled. She could feel the pit of worry deepening in her stomach, but for now, she needed to keep Willow calm. "Of course. It all makes sense now," she said, forcing a smile, playing along. "But you'd better show those bad puppies to Giles before you do anything. Just to be sure."

"Oh, absolutely. I don't want to do anything crazy," Willow agreed with sudden, unsettling sincerity, as though she hadn't just proposed murder.

"Good. You hurry on to Giles', and I'll hang in there and keep an eye on Kathy," Buffy said, maintaining the calm façade.

"Great. Good. Thanks, Buffy," Willow said with a smile, as if her friend had just agreed to a perfectly reasonable plan. She took off down the hall with a sense of purpose.

Buffy watched her go, the supportive expression she'd maintained finally cracking. The worry that had been simmering beneath the surface now consumed her, her thoughts racing with concern for Willow. This wasn't just roommate drama anymore. Something was seriously wrong.

U.C. Sunnydale – Buffy and Faith's Dorm

Buffy hurried to her dorm, her boots barely making a sound as her mind raced with concern. She reached her dorm room just in time to spot Faith stepping out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind her like a cloak. Faith, completely unabashed and dripping wet from her shower, moved with her usual swagger, not a stitch of clothing on her as she nonchalantly sauntered toward Buffy. The contrast between Faith's carefree attitude and Buffy's rising anxiety felt almost surreal.

"Willow's gone crazy," Buffy blurted, not even bothering with a greeting as she approached her wife. Her voice was laced with urgency, her words tumbling out before she could rein them in.

Faith raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting from casual to concerned in an instant. Droplets of water slid down her bare skin, but she didn't seem to notice, fully focused on Buffy's frantic tone. "What happened?" she asked, her voice low but steady.

"I sent her to Giles, but I need to call him and explain what's going on," Buffy said, her hands already fumbling for her phone as her mind churned over what had just transpired with Willow. She could barely focus on anything else, her thoughts a swirling mess of worry and fear. The look in Willow's eyes—so cold, so certain—still sent chills down her spine.

Faith, sensing the gravity of the situation, didn't waste time with further questions. She just nodded; her usual brashness tempered by the seriousness of what Buffy had said. "I'll get dressed and meet you in a sec," she said, her voice calm but focused as she moved toward their dresser.

Buffy stepped into her room, her heart racing as she dialed Giles's number. The phone rang a couple of times before he picked up. "Giles, it's Buffy,"

"Buffy? Is everything alright?" Giles said, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity

"No, not really," Buffy said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "It's about Willow. She's convinced that Kathy is… well, something evil. She actually thinks she has to kill her."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. "Kill her? That's quite an accusation. What's prompted this?"

Buffy took a deep breath, pacing the small space as she gathered her thoughts. "Willow had this nightmare, right? And it was about that demon from the woods. She thinks Kathy's somehow connected to it. I mean, she's been having these strange dreams, and now she claims Kathy's toenails are growing after being cut. She collected them as evidence."

"Toenails?" Giles echoed, incredulity lacing his tone. "That sounds rather… unconventional, even for Willow."

"I know! But she's serious. She thinks it's some sort of demon thing. I sent her to you…" Buffy told him.

Giles' Apartment

Willow walked into the apartment, the stillness wrapping around her like a heavy blanket. "Giles? Anybody? Hello, it's—"

But before she could finish, a net suddenly dropped over her, the weight of it dragging her to the ground. Confusion and shock flooded her senses as she felt the familiar grip of Oz and Giles holding her down. Xander, with a determined look in his eyes, quickly lifted the net and tied her hands behind her with a thick rope.

"Guys! No! Listen to me!" Willow exclaimed, panic rising in her voice.

Once her hands were secured, Giles and Oz lifted the net off her, revealing Willow's furious expression. She shot a deadly glare at Xander, her anger palpable.

"Sorry, Willow. This hurts me more than it hurts you," Xander said, his voice almost apologetic.

"We're only doing this to stop you from making a terrible mistake, Willow," Giles said, his tone calm yet serious. "Clearly, something's amiss—"

"Yeah, something's amiss: A Miss Kathy Newman!" Willow shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. "Look! In my pocket!"

Giles, eyebrows raised in concern, gingerly reached into Willow's jacket pocket that she presented. His fingers grasped the small baggie containing Kathy's toenails, pulling it out with the careful precision of a bomb squad member.

"Giles. She has parts that keep growing after they're detached. She irons her jeans! She's evilllllll!" Willow insisted, her eyes wide with fervor.

Giles, unfazed, calmly pocketed the toenails before turning to Xander and Oz. "I fear this demon Willow encountered in the woods that Buffy and Faith scared off may have possessed her somehow."

"She has to be destroyed!" Willow exclaimed, her voice rising in urgency. "Love songs! Nothing but love songs!"

"You think?" Xander replied, incredulous.

Giles took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You stay and watch her. I know a spell which will make the possessing demon reveal itself so we can fight it—but I need supplies from the magic shop." He turned to Willow, his expression softening momentarily. "Willow, I… see you around." With that, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, leaving Willow feeling more isolated than ever.

Xander and Oz exchanged glances, a mix of concern and uncertainty washing over their faces as they turned to Willow, who was still on the floor, looking up at them with an intensity that was both frightening and heart-wrenching.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Kathy opened the door, her surprise evident when she saw Buffy standing there, an unusual intensity in her gaze. "Can I come in?" Buffy asked, her tone firm but friendly.

"Sure," Kathy replied, though her brow furrowed in confusion. "Where's Willow?"

"I don't know," Buffy said, shifting her weight slightly. "But I've been thinking—it might be a good idea for you and Willow to give each other some… apart time. In fact, you might want to be, uh, apart before she gets back."

Kathy's expression darkened, displeasure flashing across her face. "What do you mean?"

Buffy sensed the tension in the air, knowing she was treading on thin ice. "I should leave the room? Why should I go?" Kathy pressed, her voice rising with indignation.

"It's not fair, I know, but—" Buffy began, trying to tread lightly.

Kathy cut her off, the bitterness in her tone making it clear that she was starting to mirror Willow's intensity. "You bet it's not fair. Having to live with someone who's obviously troubled. Someone who so clearly needs to be in a home, not a dorm—"

Buffy blinked, taken aback by Kathy's vehemence. "I don't know about that. Willow's going through something—yes. But—"

Kathy's words came out sharp, laden with judgment. "I wouldn't put it past her to drop out or take off or something. Do something horrible to herself."

"Herself?" Buffy echoed, her concern deepening.

"Or worse. She's capable of it, you know. You can see it in those shifty little eyes of hers. One of these days she might even push somebody too far…" Kathy's voice dripped with a foreboding certainty, making Buffy shiver slightly.

Buffy was unnerved enough by Kathy's unsettling talk that she actually jumped when the phone rang, the shrill sound breaking the tension in the room.

Kathy picked up the phone, her demeanor shifting as she answered. "Hello?" She listened for a moment before holding the phone out toward Buffy. "It's Oz."

Buffy took the phone from Kathy's hand, her heart racing as she braced herself for the news. "Oz?" she said, her voice steady despite the knot in her stomach.

"We have Willow at Giles' apartment, she's tied up," Oz informed her from the other end, his tone serious.

"Okay," Buffy said, her mind racing as she hung up. She started walking back toward the door, a newfound urgency in her step. "You know… during that… very short phone call? I realized—you are so right. It's not right to make you leave your own room. So, you're good. You just stay right here, kay?"

With that, she bailed, leaving Kathy standing there, perplexed and alone, a shadow of uncertainty creeping over her face as the door clicked shut behind Buffy.

Giles' Apartment

Willow was freaking out now, the panic surging through her as she struggled against her restraints, her mind racing. The ropes dug into her skin, but the real frustration was her friends' unwillingness to believe her. Xander and Oz sat a good distance away, their expressions a mix of concern and disbelief as they watched her every move.

"I cannot believe this!" Willow exclaimed, her voice rising with desperation. "After all we've been through together, you won't listen when I tell you that Kathy is bad!"

"We want to, Will. It's just—" Xander started, trying to bridge the gap between them.

Oz, sensing the tension thickening the air, cut Xander off with a deadpan delivery. "Don't engage. I'm pretty sure the next part is about fava beans and nice Chianti."

Willow's eyes widened at the reference, the irritation mixing with disbelief. "I can't believe you said that, Oz. You know how much I hate that movie since learning that you and Buffy are trans." Her gaze flickered to her boyfriend, searching for understanding.

"Sorry," Oz replied, the weight of his words acknowledging the film's troubling portrayal of transgender individuals.

Willow let out a frustrated scream as she pulled against the ropes binding her hands, her muscles straining with the effort. Xander and Oz exchanged anxious glances, their concern growing.

"I don't know if I tightened those ropes enough," Xander said, the worry creeping into his voice.

"Then we'd better go over there and check them," Oz replied, his expression serious as they both crept closer, the air thick with tension.

Xander laughed, a nervous sound that echoed off the walls. He looked at Oz, whose stone-faced demeanor only made the situation more surreal. Then, it sank in. "Oh dear God."

Willow watched them, a predator assessing her prey. "Avoid the legs, avoid the legs…" she murmured under her breath, a wicked smile creeping onto her face.

With careful precision, Xander moved to one side of her, while Oz circled to the other, both leaning in to check the ropes with caution. In a flash, Willow's hand shot out, and with a swift motion, she smashed their heads together, the sickening sound of impact filling the room. Both boys went out cold, crumpling to the floor like discarded dolls.

"They were tight enough," Willow said, a triumphant glint in her eye. "But you guys forgot I'm a witch and that one of the first things I learned was telekinesis." With a sense of newfound freedom, she made her way for the door, her heart racing with adrenaline and determination, ready to confront Kathy.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Kathy sat on her bed, immersed in the pages of her book, the peace and quiet of the room enveloping her like a warm blanket. The soft rustle of paper and the occasional creak of the bed frame were the only sounds breaking the stillness. But that serenity shattered the moment the door swung open behind her, revealing Willow standing in the threshold, her expression unsettlingly intense, a storm brewing in her eyes.

"Kathy," Willow said, her voice low and charged.

Surprised, Kathy snapped her book shut and rose to her feet, the sudden shift in the atmosphere palpable. "Willow…" she replied, her tone a mix of confusion and caution as she sized up her roommate.

Willow advanced with purpose, her intentions unmistakably sinister. "I think we need to 'talk'—don't you?" The words dripped with a chilling intensity, leaving no doubt about the confrontation that was about to unfold.

Kathy met Willow's gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. She squared her shoulders, ready for whatever might come. "Absolutely. Let's 'talk.'"

Willow stepped closer, deliberately kicking the rug out of place as she approached. "Oopy," she said, a taunting lilt in her voice. "Look what I did."

That provocation was the last straw. In an instant, Kathy's hand flew out, connecting sharply with Willow's face, the sound echoing in the small room. "Look what I did," she shot back defiantly.

For a fleeting moment, they stood frozen, the tension thickening the air around them. Then, like a dam breaking, they launched at each other with wild abandon. Kathy unleashed a flurry of classic girl-fight tactics, hair-pulling and shoving, her determination fierce.

Willow fought back, desperate to dislodge Kathy's grip. She clawed at Kathy's face, her nails raking against skin in a frenzied attempt to break free. But as her fingers dug in, something shocking happened. Kathy's face peeled away in Willow's grasp, revealing a demon face beneath. The sight was enough to send a jolt of horror through Willow, but instead of screaming in fear, she bellowed with triumph, "I KNEW IT!"

Giles' Apartment

Faith and Buffy burst into Giles' apartment, their hearts racing with urgency. The room was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos they had anticipated. It took only a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim light, and the unsettling sight that greeted them sent a chill through Faith's spine. Xander and Oz lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious, their faces pale and vulnerability stark against the hardwood.

Buffy scanned the room, her brows furrowing with worry. "I'll go find Will," she said, her voice steady despite the anxiety churning in her gut. Each second felt like an eternity as the weight of the situation bore down on her.

"Be careful," Faith replied, her tone edged with concern as she watched her wife prepare to leave. Faith's protective instincts flared; she wanted nothing more than to follow, to shield Buffy from whatever danger lay ahead. But she knew she had to stay.

Buffy cast one last glance at the unconscious figures of their friends, a flicker of regret crossing her face. "I won't be long," she assured Faith, her resolve hardening. Without another word, she dashed back out the apartment door, propelled by the urgency to find Willow and uncover the truth.

As the door swung shut behind her, Faith knelt beside Xander and Oz, anxiety tightening in her chest. She checked their pulses, relieved to feel steady beats beneath her fingertips, but the sense of dread lingered. She could only hope that Buffy would find Willow before things escalated further.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Kathy, having successfully overpowered Willow, perched on her chest, her grip firm as she struggled to pin Willow down. "Quit it!" she commanded, her voice tinged with frustration, trying to assert her control over the situation.

But Willow's defiance only intensified. She writhed beneath Kathy, her anger bubbling to the surface. "I knew you were one of them. One of those demon things," she spat, her eyes blazing with recognition and fury.

Kathy's response was defensive, tinged with urgency. "I'm not. Those guys are after me—" Her tone was almost pleading, but Willow's narrowed gaze betrayed her skepticism.

"Funny. I'm seeing the skin, the eyes…" Willow retorted, the disbelief in her voice sharp as a blade. Each word dripped with accusation, as if she were peeling back layers of deception.

Kathy, undeterred, shot back, "So, I'm from the same dimension. But I'm not like them. They're disgusting—" Her frustration grew, revealing the depth of her disdain for the creatures she was associated with.

"What—they don't live by the Kathy 'system?'" Willow quipped, sarcasm lacing her words as she fought against her restraints, determined to expose the truth.

"You know—why don't you just stuff it and let me finish my ritual—" Kathy snapped, impatience flaring in her tone.

"Ritual?" Willow echoed, her mind racing as the implications sunk in. A cold chill ran down her spine as realization struck.

Kathy's next words hung heavy in the air. "Your nightmares," she said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Willow's eyes widened, the weight of understanding crashing down on her. "Were real." The statement was a quiet revelation, a dawning horror that gripped her with icy fingers. In that moment, everything she had experienced began to weave together, forming a chilling tapestry of truth.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Kathy said, exasperation spilling from her voice as she paced back and forth, her frustration evident. "I left my dimension to go to college and they sent these guys after me. They don't know what shape I took as a human, but they can always sense a creature without a soul, which I don't have. So, I'm borrowing yours…"

"Without even asking!" Willow shot back, her voice tinged with indignation. The gravity of the situation churned inside her, a storm of emotions as she struggled to comprehend the betrayal.

"Tonight, when they come looking for me—they'll take you," Kathy warned, her tone growing darker, more urgent.

"Thank God. I won't have to watch you floss anymore," Willow retorted, sarcasm dripping from her words, masking the underlying fear that gnawed at her insides.

"And I won't have to live with a slob—" Kathy spat, her fury boiling over. She lunged forward, trying to pry Willow's mouth open, desperation in her eyes. But Willow wasn't having it; she clamped down, sinking her teeth into Kathy's hand.

Kathy howled in pain, her reflexive response sending her tumbling off Willow. In an instant, the tension escalated into chaos as they launched into a full-blown fight. Willow struck out, landing a few solid punches, adrenaline surging through her veins. But Kathy was quicker, her powers flaring to life as she raised her hands and sent Willow hurtling backward.

Willow crashed into her padlocked closet door, the wood splintering around her as it collapsed, creating a cacophony of noise that echoed through the room. Dust motes danced in the air, a surreal backdrop to their violent confrontation.

"It's share time, Willow," Kathy taunted, her voice dripping with mock cheerfulness as she approached, ready to seize control once more. She grabbed Willow by the legs, pulling her from the wreckage of the closet, her intentions clear. Straddling Willow, she prepared to complete her sinister ritual, a wicked glint in her eye.

But Willow was not finished. With a surge of determination, she caught Kathy around the neck with the same sweater Kathy had borrowed, using it as a makeshift weapon to choke her. "Fine. Let's start with my sweater!" Willow shouted, her resolve hardening.

Caught off guard, Kathy struggled momentarily, her eyes wide with surprise. But she quickly retaliated, ripping the sweater in half and seizing Willow's arms. In one swift motion, she flipped Willow over, slamming her down onto the floor, the impact stunning Willow and knocking the wind out of her.

Just then, the dorm room door swung open, revealing Buffy standing in the doorway, her expression one of shock and determination. "Willow was right," she said, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of Kathy's true, demonic visage.

Giles' Apartment

Oz and Xander were just coming to, the haze of Willow's earlier blows fading as they blinked into focus. They found Faith kneeling beside them; her brow furrowed with concern. Xander squinted at the ropes, frustration flickering across his face. "Why couldn't Giles have shackles like any self-respecting bachelor?" he grumbled, trying to ease the tension with humor even as he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

"Are you both okay?" Faith asked, her voice laced with urgency as she examined her friends, searching for any sign of serious injury.

"Yeah," Oz replied, his voice steady but edged with worry. "But Willow's got a pretty good lead on us." His gaze drifted toward the door, anxiety brewing in his chest.

"Buffy's already gone out to find her," Faith reassured them, though her tone was tinged with apprehension. "If I hazard to guess, we already know where she's going. Back to her dorm room to face Kathy." The reality of the situation settled over them like a heavy blanket, each second ticking away like a countdown. "I just hope Buffy gets there in time to stop Red."

As they processed Faith's words, the gravity of their situation weighed heavily upon them. Xander and Oz exchanged worried glances, the urgency of the moment driving them to their feet, despite the lingering effects of Willow's earlier wrath. They knew they had to act quickly, the stakes higher than ever as they considered what might unfold in Willow's dorm room.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Buffy leaped into action, adrenaline surging through her veins as she propelled herself toward Kathy, her intent clear. With a swift motion, she knocked Kathy away from Willow, the force of the impact sending Kathy staggering to the side.

In a panic, Kathy's eyes darted around the room until they landed on the phone. Without a moment's hesitation, she lunged for it, yanking it from its cradle and ripping the cord from the wall with a satisfying tug. The sudden silence in the room amplified the chaos that followed, as Kathy brandished the phone like a makeshift weapon, her expression a mix of desperation and defiance.

With a wild swing, she lashed out at Buffy, the hard plastic of the phone striking Buffy's shoulder with a jarring thud. The unexpected blow stung, but Buffy quickly regained her composure, determined not to let Kathy's chaotic tactics get the better of her. The fight had taken on an almost surreal quality, with the air crackling between them as they struggled for dominance, each aware that the outcome would determine not just their fates, but Willow's as well.

Giles walked through the door of his apartment just as Faith was about to leave with Xander and Oz. The atmosphere was thick with urgency, and in his hand, he held Willow's baggie, its contents both bizarre and unsettling. "Toenails!" he exclaimed, drawing puzzled looks from the trio gathered by the door. "I know. But Willow was right. Not only do Kathy's toenails keep growing when they're cut, they regenerate if they're destroyed—"

"And that's a demon thing?" Faith asked, her brow furrowed as she processed this new information.

"Unequivocally. So I—" Giles started, but his words trailed off as he noticed the absence of Willow. "Where is Willow?"

Xander, looking a bit sheepish, held up the rope they had used to restrain her. "Uh... about that."

"Oh dear. We have even less time than I feared," Giles said, the gravity of the situation settling over him like a dark cloud. "I looked up all the known regenerating demons, and only one species practices the ritual Willow's been seeing in her sleep. It's used to steal the souls from human bodies—"

"You're saying Willow's been doing a Linda Blair on us because Kathy's been sucking her soul?" Xander interjected, the realization hitting him like a cold wave.

"That's what I believe. Yes," Giles confirmed, his expression serious and resolute.

"So, Willow was right all along," Faith said, a hint of admiration mixed with concern in her voice.

Giles nodded. "I found a spell that should reverse the soul transfer procedure instantly—which Faith and I will perform immediately."

"Leaving Xander and me to go help Buffy, who went to help Willow," Oz said, determination flickering in his eyes as he prepared to spring into action.

As Xander and Oz headed for the door, Faith glanced back at Giles, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Why am I helping you with a spell?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively.

"The Council knows your background, Faith. Or would you prefer I called you Eris Darkholme?" Giles responded, a hint of urgency lacing his tone. (A/N)

Faith sighed, the weight of her past hanging heavily on her shoulders. "I'm supposed to be in hiding from my father," she confessed. "My powers are bound so my father can't find me."

Giles regarded her with a mix of understanding and determination, his expression softening as he spoke. "I understand why you are in hiding, Faith. That you were born from a powerful line of witches, and that your father, a Darklighter, bred with your mother to create a powerful hybrid." His voice carried the weight of history, a recognition of the burdens she bore. "But this is about Willow, Faith." He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense, as if trying to convey the urgency of the situation through sheer will. "And you are the only witch available that can help me perform this spell."

Faith felt the gravity of his words settle over her, wrapping around her like a shroud. The echoes of her past loomed large, the shadows of her heritage reminding her of the power she possessed and the fear it inspired in others. But at this moment, that fear paled in comparison to the potential loss of her friend. She could see in Giles' eyes not just the urgency of the moment, but also a deep-seated faith in her abilities—a flicker of hope that she could harness her lineage for good, rather than letting it be a source of fear.

For a brief moment, Faith wrestled with her internal conflict: the reluctance to step into the light of her own power and the overwhelming need to protect those she cared about. Willow's face flashed through her mind, a reminder of their friendship and the times they had fought side by side.

"Willow needs us," Giles pressed, his tone a mix of urgency and encouragement. "This isn't just about your past, Faith. It's about saving a friend, and I know you have the strength to help her. Together, we can reverse what Kathy has done."

"I will need a potion to unbind my powers," Faith said, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of urgency.

"I figured you might," Giles replied, a knowing look in his eyes as he handed Faith a vial filled with a shimmering liquid.

Faith took the vial with a firm grip, the glass cool against her palm. She unstoppered it, the faint scent of herbs wafting up to greet her. With a deep breath, she drank it down in one swift motion. For a brief moment, a radiant glow enveloped her, casting soft light in the dimly lit room. It felt like electricity coursing through her veins, awakening the latent power that had been restrained for so long.

As the glow faded, she held up her hand, marveling as ice formed around it like a glove, intricate patterns swirling across her skin. "Besides the traditional Darklighter powers, I also have cryokinesis," she announced, a thrill of exhilaration rippling through her. The ice glimmered, catching the light, a manifestation of her strength and potential. Then, with a slight flick of her wrist, the ice melted away, revealing her normal skin beneath. "Let's get started."

Giles wasted no time, moving purposefully to light the candles that surrounded them, their flickering flames dancing in the stillness. The air grew thick with anticipation as he began the incantation, his voice steady and commanding. "Hear me, elders of the upper reaches. Elders of the lower reaches. Elders of the dry land. Elders of the river flats!"

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Buffy and Kathy were locked in a fierce struggle, the air thick with tension and the sound of grunts and impacts filling the room. Buffy, her heart racing, managed to wriggle free from Kathy's grasp, but the victory was short-lived as she stumbled onto Kathy's desk. The force of her fall sent a cascade of neatly sharpened pencils scattering across the floor, their tips splintering against the hard surface.

Willow, who had been watching the chaotic scene unfold from the sidelines, seized the moment. With a fierce determination, she stomped down on the pencils, the satisfying crunch echoing in the small space. "AH HA!" she declared triumphantly, a gleam of victory in her eyes.

But Kathy was quick to recover. Her eyes narrowed as she lunged for Willow, fury radiating from her as she realized her plan was unraveling. However, before she could reach the redhead, Buffy swung into action. With a sudden burst of strength, she yanked a support beam from beneath one of Kathy's shelves, sending the heavy contents crashing down. The stereo, along with a jumble of other items, toppled down in a chaotic heap, sending Kathy staggering back.

Kathy, undeterred, sprang back to her feet and, with an angry roar, charged at Buffy. In one swift motion, she swept Buffy off her feet and slammed her into the door, the impact reverberating through the room. The force of their clash rattled the frames on the walls, and Kathy's face twisted with rage as she gripped Buffy tightly.

In a terrifying show of strength, Kathy drove Buffy through the very window Willow had opened, the glass shattering into a million tiny shards as they crashed through.

Giles' Apartment

Giles and Faith moved with an urgency that matched the intensity of the situation, their hands deftly drawing intricate symbols in a circle around them. The air was thick with the sharp, cleansing scent of burning sage, which curled upward in fragrant wisps, adding an almost ethereal quality to the atmosphere. Each symbol they inscribed pulsed with latent power, glowing faintly in the dim light of the apartment as they hurried through the ritual incantations.

"Ancients, I beseech you!" they chanted in unison, their voices rising and falling like the rhythm of a heartbeat. The weight of their plea hung heavy in the air, a desperate call for aid from forces beyond their understanding. "The soul abstracted—let it revert to its true seat—"

As they spoke, Faith's heart raced, each word echoing the urgency in her chest. She felt the power of the incantation building, surging through her fingertips as she traced the final symbols. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, flickering in response to the growing energy between them.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Kathy yanked Buffy through the jagged remnants of the shattered window, shards of glass glinting like dangerous diamonds in the dim light. The cool evening air rushed in, mingling with the heat of their struggle, a sharp contrast that momentarily stole the breath from Buffy's lungs. Kathy sneered, a wicked glint in her eyes, as she tossed Buffy with brutal force against the wall, the impact rattling the very foundations of the room.

Buffy staggered but quickly regained her footing, shaking off the disorientation. She was determined not to show any weakness, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Kathy turned away from her, spinning toward Willow with a predatory grace that made the hairs on the back of Buffy's neck stand up.

"Window's open. Happy?" Kathy taunted, her voice dripping with mockery, a cruel smile spreading across her face. The satisfaction in her tone was palpable, as if she reveled in the chaos she had wrought.

Willow stood frozen for a moment, her eyes wide, processing the reality of the fight unfolding before her. The threat loomed large, and Kathy's bravado only deepened the fear and anger swirling within her.

Giles' Apartment

Speed-talking, Giles and Faith raced through the final lines of the spell, their voices weaving together in a desperate rhythm. "…let the unnatural vessel be emptied. Let the essence return to its original host!" The words echoed in the air, heavy with urgency and intent, as if they were summoning the very forces of the universe to heed their plea.

With a sharp inhale, Faith blew out the candle, its flickering flame extinguished in a puff of smoke that curled into the stillness of the room. The moment felt charged, as if the air itself held its breath, anticipating the outcome of their incantation. Giles slammed the ancient book shut with a resolute thud, the sound reverberating off the walls, a stark punctuation mark to their frantic ritual.

They exchanged anxious glances, each filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Faith's heart raced as she felt the weight of their actions pressing down on her, a palpable tension hanging between them. The shadows danced around them, their flickering forms casting a surreal light on the determination etched across Giles's face. Would it work? Would they save Willow from the grip of that malevolent force? In that charged silence, every heartbeat felt like a countdown, urging them to believe in the power of their combined magic.

U.C. Sunnydale – Willow's Dorm Room

Kathy grabbed Willow and pinned her against the wall with a forceful shove, her grip tightening around Willow's mouth as she forced it open. In that moment, Willow suddenly stiffened, her body seizing as if something alien were writhing within her. Kathy's eyes widened in horror, a flicker of fear crossing her demon-like features as she sensed what was about to unfold.

The ectoplasmic light, shimmering and surreal, flowed from Kathy's mouth, snaking through the air like a living entity before it surged into Willow. The moment the light stopped, Buffy acted with fierce determination, yanking Kathy away from Willow and breaking the connection with a force that sent both women stumbling.

"How did you—" Kathy began, glancing back at Willow, but her question evaporated into the air as a sudden and overwhelming energy filled the room. The demon Taparrich materialized through the door in a spectacular explosion of power, the very fabric of reality warping around him as he stepped into their space.

Buffy, Willow, and Kathy froze, a visceral terror gripping them as they realized the formidable presence before them. Kathy instinctively turned her demon-like face toward the floor, desperate to shield her identity from Taparrich's piercing gaze.

Taparrich scrutinized the three women, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he addressed Kathy in a guttural, unintelligible language, his tone fierce and commanding. "There you are," he intoned, the words laced with authority. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, young lady?"

Kathy, defiant yet defeated, responded in a whiny version of the same demon-speak. "I'm not going back!" The words came out like a plea, laden with a mixture of desperation and rebellion.

"Don't take that tone with me," Taparrich replied, his voice dripping with disappointment and authority.

Kathy's frustration bubbled over as she shot back, "I'm 3000 years old! When are you going to stop treating me like I'm 900?!" Her voice was a blend of indignation and hurt, echoing her desire for autonomy.

"When you stop acting that way," Taparrich countered, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I can't tell you how much you've upset your mother."

"You never let me do anything!" Kathy yelled, her voice rising in a mix of anger and despair as Xander and Oz burst through the door behind them. The two friends halted in their tracks, their faces a mask of shock and disbelief as they took in the sight of the imposing Taparrich.

The demon turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Xander and Oz, letting out a ferocious roar that reverberated through the room, a primal sound that sent chills down their spines.

Taparrich then refocused on Kathy, his expression hardening. "Enough. You're coming home," he declared, his voice a thunderous command. With a wave of his hand, he opened a swirling cosmic vortex in the center of the room, a gaping maw of energy that pulsed with an otherworldly force.

Buffy, Willow, Oz, and Xander scrambled to find something to hold onto, bracing themselves against the fierce gale unleashed by the open portal. The air was charged with chaos, papers flying and the very atmosphere seeming to shudder in response to the supernatural phenomenon.

Kathy screamed, her voice rising in panic as she crawled away from the vortex, desperately trying to escape its insatiable pull. But the vortex claimed her swiftly, a whirlpool of energy that drew her in against her will. In a final act of defiance, Taparrich dove into the swirling portal after her, leaving behind only the echo of his presence.

And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the vortex closed, vanishing into the ether, leaving the room in stunned silence.

September 23, 1999 – Thursday

U.C. Sunnydale – Buffy, Faith and Willow's Dorm Room

After everything with Kathy, Buffy and Faith decided that since married housing actually came with two bedrooms, they would let Willow have the other bedroom. So the next day, Willow was moving in, her excitement palpable as she surveyed her new space. The room was filled with a jumble of boxes, each one brimming with her belongings, a visual representation of her journey and all that she held dear.

Willow stood precariously on a chair, her hair slightly tousled as she leaned to affix a vibrant Dingoes concert poster to the wall. "How's that?" she asked, glancing down at Buffy and Faith, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"A little to the left…" Buffy instructed, her tone playful yet precise. Willow adjusted the poster, inching it over until Buffy called out, "There."

Satisfied, Willow tacked the poster up and stepped off the chair, her heart racing with a mix of joy and nostalgia. She took a step back, her hands on her hips, to admire her handiwork. Buffy and Faith flanked her, sharing in the moment.

"Perfect," Faith declared, a proud smile breaking across her face. The poster was a splash of color in the room, a testament to the music and memories that defined Willow.

"Thanks, guys, for letting me stay with you," Willow said, her voice warm with gratitude. "I can feel all that bad Kathy karma just draining away." She took a deep breath, as if shedding the weight of her past.

"About that… The Kathy thing?" Buffy began, her expression turning more serious. "Faith and I are both sorry we doubted you." Faith nodded in agreement, her eyes earnest.

"You both are completely forgiven," Willow replied, her smile brightening the room. "I mean, you two had reason to doubt. Except for the soul-sucking stuff—I bet Kathy was sort of regular as far as roomies go." Her tone was light, but a hint of concern lingered in her eyes.

"That's a pretty big 'except,' Red," Faith said, raising an eyebrow, her playful demeanor hiding a more serious note.

"I guess," Willow conceded, her voice thoughtful. "I'm just glad to know that it was Kathy's demon-y ways making me no-fun-Willow. 'Cause I've always thought I was pretty easygoing—" She moved to one of her boxes, her fingers trailing over the top as she began to unpack.

September 25, 1999 – Saturday

Closeup Models Agency

The photo studio hummed with electric anticipation; every corner abuzz with the energy of creativity. Stylists meticulously arranged outfits, makeup artists delicately brushed colors onto faces, and photographers skillfully prepared their equipment. The air crackled with excitement, as if the studio itself held its breath, awaiting the moment when Buffy, a confident transgender woman, would step into the spotlight.

Buffy stood before a full-length mirror, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. She took a deep breath, willing herself to steady the emotions swirling within. In the reflection, she saw the culmination of her journey—a resilient spirit etched into her features, radiating strength and resilience. This was the day she had been working towards, a day of transformation and triumph.

Watching from the sidelines were her sisters, Dawn and Elizabeth, their eyes filled with pride and love. Their unwavering support enveloped Buffy like a warm embrace, their presence a reminder that she was not alone in this momentous occasion.

Dawn approached Buffy with a radiant smile, her voice filled with unwavering belief. "You've got this, Buffy," she said encouragingly, her words carrying the weight of their shared journey. "You're going to shine like the star you are."

Buffy's lips curled into a grateful smile, her heart swelling with gratitude for her sister's unwavering support. She nodded, finding strength in Dawn's words, as if her sister's belief in her had the power to steady her nerves and bolster her confidence.

Elizabeth stood by their side, her eyes glistening with pride, as she echoed Dawn's sentiments. "Buffy, you've overcome so much to be here today," she said with admiration, her voice filled with genuine appreciation for her sister's resilience. "We're right here with you, cheering you on."

Buffy's eyes welled up with emotion as she looked at her sisters, their love and support washing over her like a balm for her soul. They had been her pillars of strength throughout her journey of self-discovery and acceptance, providing unwavering love and understanding. Together, they had navigated countless challenges, and now they stood side by side, ready to witness Buffy's moment of triumph.

As the stylist approached, her warm smile cutting through the bustling atmosphere, Buffy felt a sense of reassurance and encouragement. "You ready, Buffy?" she asked, her voice brimming with genuine support. "We're about to start the shoot."

Buffy's nerves danced beneath her skin, a mix of anticipation and apprehension intertwining within her. Yet, she met the stylist's gaze with a determined nod, her voice carrying a whisper of conviction.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Buffy replied, her words holding a touch of vulnerability amidst the layers of determination. "Let's do this."

With newfound resolve, she stepped away from the mirror, leaving behind any remnants of doubt. Her gaze was fixed on the set ahead, her heart pulsating with a mix of excitement and nerves.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The set stood like a sanctuary of creative expression, bathed in the glow of bright lights that danced in anticipation of capturing Buffy's essence. The air seemed to shimmer with possibility, as if the very atmosphere recognized the importance of this moment. The photographer, a passionate artist with an eye for authenticity, meticulously fine-tuned his camera settings, ensuring that every shot would reflect the essence of Buffy's true self. His assistant, equally dedicated, arranged props with care, each object chosen to enhance the narrative of the shoot.

As Buffy stepped onto the set, a surge of emotions coursed through her veins, her heart pounding in rhythm with the vibrant atmosphere. The weight of the moment settled on her shoulders, but it was a weight she carried willingly. She knew that within these moments, her true self would be unveiled, celebrated, and immortalized through the lens of the camera.

"Welcome, Buffy!" the photographer greeted, his voice infused with infectious enthusiasm. The words reverberated in the air, mingling with the charged energy of the space. "We're thrilled to have you here. Just relax, be yourself, and let your inner light shine through."

Buffy's heart swelled with gratitude, her voice pouring forth with sincerity. The words "thank you" seemed inadequate to express the depth of her appreciation. Her gaze met the photographer's, and through her eyes, he could glimpse the profound honor she felt to be a part of this transformative experience.

With gentle gestures, the photographer directed Buffy to a spot on the set, a place where her authenticity would be illuminated. She positioned herself, her nerves and excitement twirling within her like a delicate dance. The makeup artist, keenly aware of the depth of emotions coursing through Buffy's veins, approached with a tenderness reserved for the most precious moments.

"You're a natural, Buffy," the makeup artist whispered, her voice a soft caress in the midst of anticipation. Her hands moved with grace, each touch imbued with care and respect. "Just let your true self come alive in front of the camera."

A profound sense of appreciation washed over Buffy. In that moment, she knew that the support and belief in her authenticity from the team surrounding her were not mere platitudes, but genuine affirmations of her worth. She stood tall, her anxious smile transforming into one of quiet appreciation.

As the lights adjusted, casting a mesmerizing spotlight upon her, the final remnants of Buffy's apprehension began to melt away. The gentle embrace of the camera's click enveloped her, a reminder that vulnerability and strength could coexist harmoniously. With each capture, she shed layers of doubt, stepping further into the embrace of her true self.

Fluid and graceful, Buffy's movements flowed with a natural rhythm. Her expressions held a raw honesty, as if the camera had the power to see beyond the surface and capture the essence of her being. She blossomed before the lens, her identity unfurling like a blooming flower, each petal revealing a different facet of her vibrant existence.

Whispers of encouragement from the photographer and his team swirled around Buffy, urging her to explore the vast spectrum of emotions and embrace her unique beauty. The camera shutter released like a heartbeat, capturing fragments of her journey, each frame a testament to her courage and authenticity. With every click, Buffy delved deeper into her true self, her confidence blooming like a phoenix rising from the ashes of doubt.

"This is me," Buffy whispered, her voice a gentle affirmation, carried by a gust of self-assurance. "This is who I am."

Time became an abstract concept as the shoot unfolded, capturing the essence of Buffy's journey with every frame. The rhythm of the camera's clicks merged seamlessly with her newfound confidence, creating a symphony of empowerment that reverberated throughout the studio. Each shot became a brushstroke, painting a vivid portrait of a woman who had embraced her identity with unwavering resolve.

As the session neared its end, Buffy radiated with a newfound sense of pride. She had bared her soul before the lens, and each photograph bore witness to her strength and vulnerability. The photographer's excitement spilled forth like a torrential river.

"Buffy, you were incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with admiration. "Your authenticity shines through every photo. We captured something truly special today."

Buffy's eyes welled with gratitude, her heartfelt thanks pouring forth like a river of emotion. "I couldn't have done it without your support," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for believing in me."

Dawn and Elizabeth stood nearby, their smiles radiant with love and pride. They knew that this moment was not just about modeling—it was about Buffy embracing her true self, defying expectations, and inspiring others to do the same. They approached Buffy, enveloping her in a warm embrace, their bond unbreakable.

"Thank you both for being here with me, every step of the way," Buffy said emotionally, her voice filled with gratitude and love. "Your support means the world to me."

Dawn's voice was filled with awe and admiration as she whispered, "Buffy, you're a beacon of strength and courage. We're so proud to call you our sister."

Tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes as she added tearfully, "You've shown us what it truly means to live authentically. Keep shining, Buffy. The world needs your light."

In that moment, amidst the dismantling of the set, the embrace of love and acceptance from her sisters, Buffy knew she was never alone. Together, they would continue to celebrate each other's triumphs, supporting one another as they blazed a trail of authenticity and inclusivity, a beacon of hope for others to find their own light.

Summers Home

Buffy, Elizabeth, and Dawn entered their home, their steps faltering with a mixture of excitement and exhaustion after the exhilarating photo shoot. Their faces glowed with a triumphant aura, their eyes alight with the fire of accomplishment. Yet, beneath the surface, their hearts still fluttered with lingering nerves, a testament to the magnitude of the experience they had just lived. As they crossed the threshold into the living room, they found Joyce and Faith waiting anxiously, their presence a testament to the unyielding love and support that flowed through the walls.

"Buffy, Elizabeth, Dawn!" Joyce's voice carried the weight of eager anticipation. "How did it go? We've been waiting with bated breath!"

Buffy shared a knowing smile with her sisters, the shared bond of their journey strengthening the connection between them. She turned her gaze back to Faith and Joyce, her grin widening like a radiant sun bursting through the clouds. "It was incredible, Mom," her voice resonated with a mixture of excitement and awe. "I can't even begin to put it into words. The entire team was beyond amazing—so supportive, encouraging."

Faith leaned forward, her eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement. "Tell us everything, babe," she urged, her voice laced with genuine eagerness. "We're dying to know every detail."

Dawn, barely containing her overflowing enthusiasm, bounced on her toes, her energy contagious. "Buffy was a natural!" she exclaimed; her voice filled with admiration. "She radiated confidence and authenticity—it was like watching a star come alive. Truly amazing."

Buffy's cheeks flushed with a blend of pride and humility, her heart swelling within her chest. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind searching for the words to capture the profound experience she had just lived. "It was more than I ever imagined," her voice quivered with emotion, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "The photographer saw me—the real me—for who I truly am. Every click of the camera felt like a celebration of my journey, a validation of my identity. They embraced every facet of my transgender self, and in that space, I felt seen, cherished, and utterly validated."

Elizabeth, her gaze filled with an admiring glow, joined her sister in expressing their shared sentiments. Her voice carried the weight of admiration, each word a testament to the significance of the moment. "Buffy's presence in front of the camera was nothing short of transformative," her voice held a quiet intensity. "She stood tall, embracing her uniqueness, and the entire team recognized the power and authenticity she radiated. It was a powerful moment of representation and inclusivity—a step towards reshaping the narrative of beauty."

Joyce, her eyes brimming with tears of pride, reached out, enveloping her children in a warm and loving embrace. Her voice quivered with a mixture of joy and love, infusing her words with an indescribable tenderness. "I am so incredibly proud of all of you," her voice held a gentle tremor, her heart overflowing with emotion. "Buffy, your journey has been one of courage and resilience. To witness you embrace your true self and thrive—it fills my heart with an indescribable joy. You are an inspiration, my love."

Faith, her voice a soft whisper, added her own heartfelt congratulations, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her love for Buffy flowed through her words, carried on wings of unwavering admiration. "Buffy, you continue to inspire me every single day," her voice held a depth that only true love could evoke. "Your resilience, your authenticity—they are gifts that you share with the world. I am in awe of the incredible person you've become, and I am beyond grateful to be by your side."

In that moment, the living room transformed into a sanctuary of love and acceptance, a haven where the echoes of their collective pride reverberated against the walls. The shared bond of unconditional support radiated like a warm embrace, encircling Buffy, Elizabeth, Dawn, Joyce, and Faith, a shield against the world's doubts and fears. It was a testament to the unwavering strength of their familial connection, forged through countless moments of triumph, growth, and unwavering love.

As they held each other tightly, the echoes of the photo shoot lingered in their hearts, imprinted upon their souls. They had witnessed Buffy's journey unfold before their very eyes, and now, together, they would carry the memory of that day—the celebration of authenticity, the validation of self, and the power of love—forever etched in their collective story.

---

Author's Note: Faith being part Slayer, part witch and part Darklighter is borrowed from more than one of my other stories. A Mother Reincarnated was the first one I did with her having those powers. And between the fact that canon had Willow helping Giles during the incantation and the fact that my stories form a loose semblance of a multiverse (there have been crossovers between stories) I decided to go ahead and have Faith be magical again.