Summary/Working Title: Slayers, Vampires, and the Genetically Empowered, Oh my!

Author: Kiara Alexis Klay

Rating: PG-13 for now. Might be more Mature for certain themes later.

Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy, the Scoobies, or other characters. Dark Angel and crew belong to Fox and Cameron and Eglee.

A/n: This is purely entertainment. And good, old-fashioned fun and muse. Blame it on my alter ego, a little stuffed red dragon that stays on top an unused computer monitor and has remained nameless so far. I need a name for my alter ego, and he's male to my female btw.

Pairings: TBA. Not certain if I want to pair anyone up yet.

Timeline – DA time (2016 since Buff's sixteen) but sort of Season Two-ish for Buffyverse. No really weird stuff like Angelus, Willow's girlfriends, or stuff like that. Get it, got it? Good. Just A Warning: Heavily AU so approx time and dates will be skewed. Just fair warning.

SLAYERS, VAMPIRES, AND GENETICALLY EMPOWERED OH MY!

"Buffy Anne Summers! Get your bottle blonde butt over here, now!"

The said mentioned blond from a bottle arched a slightly darker colored brow in the direction of the person who dared launch such a double pronged attack in broad daylight, and publicly no less. Short, petite, usually perky but not today, with a no-nonsense, take charge aura that made one forget her lack of inches, she altered the direction of her walk to obey the thrice named summons.

The power of three.

"Yes, Alexander Lavelle Harris?" she replied evenly, the very quiet and calm in her voice a warning in itself, as was her well-placed barb.

Harris winced at the mention of his not-so-well-liked middle name, knowing he had deserved it, but plunging on anyway in typical zany Harris-ness.

"Hi! Good morning to you on this bright, sunny, and typically cloudless Southern Californian school weekday," the dark brunette male greeted her with the usual adoring expression directed her way, and more than cheerful cheeriness.

Buffy didn't know how he could be so cheerful, sarcastic, and enjoyable before ten o'clock and four cups of coffee, but invariably, Alexander-call-me-Xander Harris managed it each and every day. That kind of optimistic willpower was beyond her level of comprehension right now, but being near the affable male had lifted her spirits up somewhat.

"Hey," she acknowledged giving him a nod, matching her pace to his unconsciously as they headed toward the sandy colored stone steps that led toward the mouth of their school.

Xander had known the petite blond long enough to know the trouble that his full name-calling would cause. It was a tactic he freely admitted was pathetic and obvious, and pathetically obvious he was willing to endure whatever her wrath meted out for even that negative attention from her.

So knowing he was in very serious danger and risk of being hit, pummeled, or basically beaten within every inch of his tall, six foot frame, he shot her his most charming smile and assumed an inoffensive posture, hoping against hope he radiated the harmless-please-don't-hit-me vibe. He even tried his very own Xander-patent-pending version of puppy dog eyes for good measure.

"Oh, Xander," the slender red-head who had been attached to his side gave a shake of her head and sighed while rolling her eyes heavenward. "You are so going to die."

This earned her a throaty chuckle from the object of Xander's desires and a twitch of the lips that curved the upper part of her mouth into a small, wryly amused smirk.

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, Willow. If this is how you uplift your best friend I'd hate to see you put down your worst enemy. They would gasp in horror, die from the verbal assaultage upon their sensitive souls, wither from the onslaught."

Xander could be melodramatic, but at least he'd gotten Buffy to smile a bit, even if it was at his own expense as per usual.

"That wasn't nice, Xander," Buffy chided him softly, still keeping her voice carefully controlled.

That was the first hint the other two had that everything wasn't sunny in Sunnydale for the resident Slayer. The amusement had fled her as soon as it had come, and the headache and basic feeling of rottenness and not feeling good returned in full measure, and her sensitized senses were heading toward overload, every sound a wooden stake through her skull, every scent a vicious scheme to release the remnants of food from her stomach, every patch of sunlight a dastardly weapon assaulting her poor, aching eyes.

"You okay, Buffy? You're like, really pale, almost vampirey pale, but not too vampirey, since you're not a vampire, and vampires can't walk about in sunlight, or get a tan, like the one you started, but now can't tell because you're pale," Willow babbled, in her concern for her friend rambling on even though the subject of vampires and any likeness Buffy had to them not a good thing.

"Yeah, you okay, Buffster," Xander interjected, as concerned for Willow's health and continued existence, as well as for Buffy and her unusual mood.

Buffy cast an unamused look in Willow's direction, but the girl's luminous brownish-green almost hazel eyes peered intently at her, her concern very obvious and Buffy found she couldn't stay irritated at her for the vampire reference. Both of them being worried about her, like her mom Joyce this morning, touched her, and she gave a wan smile as they came to their lockers.

"I'm fine," she replied, feeling like a wrung out rag someone used, discarded, and stomped on. She exchanged her backpack for a couple texts, folders, and notebooks.

"Just tired."

"Wow, you look it. With those dark circles under your eyes, and hey, you're not wearing any make-up! I've never seen you without make-up!"

Willow Rosenberg's surprise at this revelation –Buffy never went anywhere un-make upped – was enough to chase away the frozen deer caught in the headlights reaction that was just seconds following. She mentally chastised herself for speaking before she thought, a habit that occurred often and at the most inopportune moments, and which caused her to unintentionally turn away others.

"Willow!" Xander gave her a disbelieving look, casting a fearful look over at the other female to see how she'd take it.

Buffy did indeed look tired now that he was really looking at her, but fortunately for Willow, the tiredness in her eyes was replaced a fragment of the Slayer's usual glib humor.

"It's okay, Will. Thanks for agreeing. C'mon, we have to get to class."

She shut the locker with a bang! proceeding down the hall at a slightly faster clip than normal. Xander and Willow exchanged startled glances; Willow's leaning more toward sheepish and guilty, while Xander's was worried. The two quickly followed after their friend.

For those of you who wanted more, here it is! I also did the courtesy of cutting it up into nice little chapters just for and edited/reposted some things.