A/n: Unless it was made clear by the recently added chapter names, this chapter is part one out of the two-part finish of Nightfall.

My thanks to those of you who have reviewed and helped out thus far. As well as those about to. You know you want to press that review button. ;)

The distant sky, though still dark, was beginning to turn a purple hue of lavender in anticipation of the coming dawn. Birds were chirping and a girl came stumbling into the small clearing.

She had a pretty face, even though it was currently bruised and dirty as well as sporting cuts from branches. Her clothes were torn too, several shallow cuts ruining her sweater and jeans.

She gripped a long sword in her hand and the fingers curled around it's hilt were sticky with scarlet blood.

Coming to a halt, she glanced forlornly at the sky, the hope of salvation that was coming, then at the still dark trees surrounding her.

She could see well enough, but the sun itself wouldn't be out for a while longer.

"I know you're out there!" She called, voice cracking. A twig snapped under the weight of a boot and she hastily raised the sword above her head, at the ready.

"You're fading girl!" The shout ended in a cackling laugh that echoed eerily through the trees.

"Come and kill me, then!" Even as she cried out her defiance, her arms shook with the effort of keeping the sword aloft. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. If that vampire made it over to her now then maybe it'd slip up in it's arrogance and she'd get a shot. But if it didn't, she'd pass out from sheer exhaustion and blood loss before it even got to a fight.

The sound of a blade meeting flesh echoed across the woods and a few moments later, another girl stumbled into the clearing.

She was as beat up as the first and limped heavily. As soon as she got a closer look at her friend, she gingerly crossed the last few yards as fast as was possible for her, favouring her left leg.

"They're onto our scent. We'll have them on us in less than a minute." Her sharp green eyes softened momentarily. "You're bleeding."

The statement was disregarded.

"How many?"

"Ten, maybe twelve." She paused a beat and shrugged helplessly. "Maybe lots more."

They settled back to back, peering through the darkness for what was to come. And came it did. Bright yellow eyes slowly started to pop up in the shadows, more than ten for sure.

"How much longer till sunrise?"

It hardly mattered. They wouldn't be able to make any kind of a stand here.

"An hour, give or take."

Definitely not that long.

The shapes had become clearer now, fangs glinting menacingly.

It was the end. No escape and no hope to manage much of a fight. The only thing they could do at this point was to take a few of the vampires down with them.

"I love you, Will."

Willow swallowed down the lump in her throat that had formed as the finality of the words hit her. Neither of them had ever had the courage to speak them before.

"I love you too," she whispered in return, wishing her hands weren't busy holding the sword.

But as weak as she was getting, she'd need them both. She didn't even dare to glance in Buffy's direction.

They were going to die here. The only thing they could do was to choose how they wanted to meet their end. Willow didn't want to die like a scared little girl, even if that was exactly what she was at the moment. Maybe if she didn't act scared then Buffy wouldn't be either...

She forced a casual tone of humour into her voice.

"Whoever gets most of them gets treated ice cream, okay?"

Though she couldn't see it, she felt reasonably sure Buffy was smiling.

"You're on."

Maybe she could do it herself... They stood back to back. Buffy might not realize, might not see it coming. She could make the death clean and spare her friend of suffering. Whatever happened to herself afterwards seemed less relevant.

No. There was not way she'd be able to cut Buffy down, be it mercy or not.

The vampires were only three yards away now, closing in on them in a tight circle. It wouldn't be a fair fight in the style of your ordinary Jackie Chan movie where the bad guys would wait politely for the hero to turn around to deal with them. They'd simply use their superior numbers and mass to their advantage and pile on top of them.

Willow recited a few well memorised words in Japanese and the blood on her hand and the hilt of her sword shone bright blue for a moment. The light crept up the blade like a mass of tiny caterpillars and then focused itself into five little glyphs.

Willow Rosenberg took a deep steadying breath.

The present

When Willow woke, they'd slept through most of the day and afternoon. A few feeble rays of light still poked through the window, making Buffy look like an angel where she lay, golden blonde hair spread out on the one pillow.

She looked calm. At peace. But Willow knew full well that it wouldn't last. Nothing that beautiful could be permanent. Nor was it.

A few minutes later, Buffy began to stir. She cracked her eyes open and observed Willow where she lay, using her chest for a pillow.

For a single wonderful moment, Buffy smiled wistfully at Willow. Then, like a dark consuming shadow, reality dawned upon her with merciless finality.

Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes began to well up with tears once more.

Despair tore at Willow's innards like claws and her eyes started to water too.

She blinked and swallowed, forcing herself to calm down. She needed to keep a level head now, if Buffy couldn't. Needed to comfort her. Like a- friend? Lover? Girlfriend?

Whichever applied wasn't important. Buffy needed her right now.

"Shh, Buffy..." She said softly. "It'll..." She couldn't say it would be alright. Whether the pointless gesture the words constituted would help or not, she physically couldn't.

Cause really, it wouldn't be alright.

Buffy slithered out of her grip and walked out towards the spot where sunlight pooled in from the window, standing there stark nude.

Would hugging her be pushing her luck?

Willow took a leap of faith and followed, wrapping her arms around Buffy from behind.

The little blonde still shook with every sobbing breath she drew.

"We'll get them," Willow promised her softly. Her voice took a sharper quality, low and brimming with venom. "We'll kill every last one of them."

Which, finally, made Buffy stop crying.

She still shook as she turned around and her eyes were still watery. But all the same, she looked at Willow with dark determination in her eyes.

"Yeah," she whispered.

The slayer relaxed in her arms and Willow slowly led her back to the couch and guided her down upon it.

"But we're going to be smart about it, 'kay?"

There was no reply.

"Okay?" Asked Willow, a bit louder.

"Alright," Buffy consented and grabbed her t-shirt off the floor where she'd discarded it.

The slayer's stomach growled in complaint, which was the first reminder that they hadn't eaten anything in roughly eighteen hours. Willow quite frankly hadn't noticed up until that point and didn't feel hungry as much as drained and weak.

"We've a few hours of daylight left," she said softly, gauging Buffy's reaction. "I understand if you don't wanna- Uh. Maybe I should go do it and you'll take it easy here?"

Buffy's reaction was immediate and sudden.

"No," she didn't raise her voice any, but there was an almost desperate note in it.

Her eyes had widened in fright like if Willow had told her the house was on fire.

"I'll come with you, just gimme a sec."

She turned away and then mumbled. "I don't want to be alone."

There was a light sniffle and Willow's heart broke a little.

"I'm not going anywhere," she vowed. Buffy's lips curved into half a smile, tentative and frail and it lingered as they both got dressed.

There was a lot to be done and only so many hours of daylight to do it.

Food was an obvious priority and it took them rather longer to collect it than they'd planned. Their first basket full of food, they realized as they were about to pay for it, wouldn't last.

As far as Willow knew, the house didn't even have a working fridge. So they ditched the milk and other perishables in favour of water, tinned food, a tin opener (which Buffy ran off to grab as an afterthought) and a couple of apples, to keep the doctor away, along with some general hygiene-related supplies.

They'd planned to check in on Giles place and pick up anything useful they could find. If it hadn't been burned down, that was. But in the end, they decided it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught out at night and leading someone back to their safe house.

They'd spent about half of the cash Willow had been given by her dad when he'd tossed her out. She had tried to pay Giles rent but he'd refused to accept it. citing that she most likely had better means of spending that money than him.

She owed him so much...

Ravenous, they both munched their apples down to the core and then stared longingly at the rest of their purchases.

"We should get going," Willow said, even as her stomach growled in hungry protest. "Before the sun-"

She shot a glance at Buffy, who was licking her lips clear off the sticky fruit juice.

The sight was... Distracting to say the least.

"Do I have something on my face?" The slayer gave the corner of her lips a particularly drawn out lick. Willow swallowed thickly. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot and heat flared in her stomach.

"N-no. Your face looks just like- um- your face - which is to say, all fine."

Buffy looked at her for a moment and then shrugged, clearly decided that she once again just wasn't making sense. They began moving back to the cottage with an awkward silence looming over them. Upon their arrival, Willow busied herself putting all the wares in their rightful place. Wherever she decreed that be.

When she was done, Willow brought out two cans of beef (or at least that's what the label claimed) and opened them up. There were no spoons or other kitchenware to be found, though, so she brought them out as they were along with one of the big water bottles.

Buffy sat in the living room couch with her legs folded under her, staring straight into the opposite wall. The slayer didn't pay Willow any heed until she sat down next to her and held out the canned meat.

The reaction was immediate. The blonde's pert little nose scrunched up in distaste and she grimaced. Reluctantly, she grabbed the food and eyed it as though it had killed her puppy.

Willow began to work on her own. Nothing spectacular, but as hungry as she was, it tasted as good as anything she'd ever eaten. She just tipped the can and gobbled it down.

By the time she'd finished, so had Buffy. Their eyes met in the crimson light cast through the grimy windows by the retreating sun for a brief moment.

Green eyes burning cold, Buffy stared at the incoming darkness. Whatever part of her the slayer was, it seemed to be sensing what was drawing closer, readying for it's chance to come out and play. Willow frowned. They needed to be smart about this. They had a single safe house left, no allies and the option of running wasn't one she thought Buffy would appreciate her voicing. They'd have to fight. But if they went out in the night half-cocked, they wouldn't last long.

"We need to talk," she said, getting firm grip on Buffy's hand and squeezing.

The blonde's eyes narrowed.

"What about?" She clearly tried for casual but came off sounding defensive.

Willow furrowed her brow, thinking. How was she supposed to phrase this?

"I understand that you want revenge... And hey, I'm all for it. But we agreed earlier we'd play it smart, right?"

Buffy frowned.

"You said we'd play it smart," she corrected.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. She glanced at Buffy with worried eyes, swallowed and continued.

"But we're not gonna be able to do much in ways of revenge-y stuff if we're both dead."

Her attempt at reason was met with sagging shoulders and a lowered head.

"Yeah. You're right."

Willow put her hand on Buffy's shoulder.

"So... Maybe we stay in tonight. Then we get started tomorrow. Gonna be a whole lot easier killing em if they're sleeping, right?"

Buffy shrugged in resignation and fell back against the sofa's cushions with a tired groan, eyes drifting shut.

Willow couldn't help but to lean over and brush a lock of the girl's honey blonde hair behind her ear.

For a brief moment, Buffy's lip quirked up into something like a smile.

Willow took that as a good sign and moved in closer, leaning her head against the slayer's slender shoulder.

"We woke up a few hours ago," Buffy said quietly, absentmindedly playing with a lock of Willow's hair. It felt divine. "We're not gonna fall asleep, yunno."

"Huh? Oh- yeah... I guess."

A few suggestions on how they might tire themselves out came to mind and Willow blushed.

She glanced at Buffy and their eyes met. The very air of the room suddenly seemed to be heating up. Gulp.

Willow nudged her head closer to Buffy's neck. The girl still smelled a little bit like smoke, a little bit of sweat. Not enough of either for it to be off-putting.

But... Even though her entire body tingled in anticipation, she forced herself to get up from the couch.

"I found a broom in the kitchen... Could you check if the water's working?"

Buffy stared at her blankly for a moment, then nodded. Her voice was kind of husky when she spoke.

"Yeah... Of course."

They set off with their separate chores. Buffy returned a little while later to confirm that they had water, but that the heating didn't work.

She stood, hands on her hips, watching Willow move around the room. Once she was done, there was a big pile of grime in the corner of the room by the door.

Willow put the broom up against the wall, sighed and bent over the touch her toes, grunting in satisfaction when her spine gave a little pop.

She straightened up, no pun intended, and felt something soft against her back. Willow tried to turn, but arms had already snaked around her body, keeping her in place.

Warm lips pressed against her throat and she shivered in pleasure.

Her body, which had initially gone rigid, relaxed in recognition of the lips and the soft touch.

A soft purred "Mmm" slipped past her lips.

Warm hands slipped under her shirt and greedily sought her breasts, cupping them through the cotton of Willow's bra.

"Is this okay?" Buffy asked in a whisper. Her lips closed on an earlobe and her teeth entered the playing-field with gentle little nips.

Even as she asked, the slayer ran fumbling fingers along rapidly puckering nipples.

Willow attempted to say "Yes" but merely managed a needy little mewling sound.

It seemed to be sufficiently clear because Buffy's right hand descended a moment later, trailing soft skin until an obstruction in the form of denim blocked her path.

It seemed too much of a complication. The slayer's hand cupped her firmly through the jeans and Willow's knees buckled. Only by placing both her palms against the panelling of the wall did she find enough leverage to stay upright. The soft brown lacquered wood was smooth.

Which was good, cause splinters, kinda a mood-breaker.

Buffy seemed to finally have located the button of her jeans and deftly undid it one-handed.

"So beautiful," she murmured, lips tugging at an earlobe. Willow would've liked to say something. Maybe be witty... Or return the compliment. But she mostly shuddered and rocked against the hand dipping inside her panties.

Buffy's exhalations on her ear were heavy pants and tickled with warmth on the flesh that lips, teeth and tongue had worked on.

Sex up against a wall. Kinda kinky. A giggle burst through her lips at the thought.

Little her, who woulda thunk?

"Kinda in the dark here, Will. Literally even."

Willow could feel the back of Buffy's hand against her butt as the blonde stroked herself fervently.

"A bit higher." The slayer obliged and Willow moaned. "Tiny bit to the left..."

"There?" Buffy asked

"Right there," Willow confirmed, eyes drifting shut at the flaring pleasure.

The room was silent for a few minutes, save for the occasional moan or sigh and the increasingly heavy breathing.
The climax came in several sharp bursts of ecstasy that turned Willow's legs into jell-o.

Sighing, she sunk to her knees on the floorboards, bringing Buffy with her.

She could still feel the blonde's hand moving and the strong arm was still wrapped around her body, keeping them close enough to make fitting a sheet of paper in between them a tough chore.

Willow wriggled out of her grip, grabbed the dainty little arm Buffy was using by the wrist and pulled it out of the pants despite whimpers of protest.

Then she kissed Buffy and replaced the hand with her own. The blonde arched her back and Willow followed her through the movement to latch her lips to the exposed neck.

It didn't last long. Within the minute, Buffy was shuddering beneath her.

Exhausted, they lingered in the floor to catch their breaths.

If the weight of Willow's body bothered Buffy, she didn't let on. She merely lay there on her back, looking up with a pensive look.

Her lip quivered, but she didn't cry. Willow pressed a kiss to the tip of the blonde's cute little nose and they shared a brief smile.

Tired in a comfy kind of way, Willow didn't realize that the smile was fake. Not until she woke up on the couch in the middle of the night to find Buffy gone.

For a second, she feared her friend had gone out hunting and rushed to the door.

She was just about to pull it open when she realized Buffy's sneakers were on the doormat.

Worried, but no longer terrified, she kept searching the house until finally, she found Buffy in the upstairs bedroom, clutching a pillow to her chest, eyes red and puffy.

Willow hesitated in the doorframe.

"Do you want to be alone?" She asked gently.

Buffy considered her for a moment, then shook her head.

"Can I come in?"

The ghost of a smile and a nod.

She sat down on the cold dusty floor next to Buffy, put an arm around the girl's shoulders and waited. Within a minute, the blonde had her head on Willow's shoulder.

"It hurts," Buffy mumbled a good while later. "Everything. Just walking around, eating, shopping. It all-"

She cast an almost frightened look at Willow.

"But with you-" She hastened to say. "When you're there, with me, close... It doesn't hurt as much."

Willow smiled at Buffy's blush and gave shoulder a squeeze.

"Anytime," she vowed.

Dawn. It came slithering across the horizon, a monster Willow really didn't want to see and couldn't vanquish. It meant it was time to get up... Which she really didn't want to. She'd been awake through the night, too worried about Buffy waking and running off to get any more sleep.

That probably made her clingy... Oh well. Who could blame her?

The blonde currently lay behind her under the covers, soft delicious curves and hard muscle feeling sublime where it was pressed up against Willow's back.

She watched the sunlight for a little while, then closed her eyes again. They should get up, get going. But Willow hadn't the heart to wake Buffy.

Good things rarely last, though. At least not for the two of them. Within thirty minutes, she felt Buffy stirring, her body tensing and relaxing a couple of times as she stretched her limbs out.

A soft moist kiss touched Willow's cheek, accompanied by a soft and shy "Hi."

"Morning," Willow responded, smiling as strong arms snaked around her body to hold her.

She felt somewhat dirty for being happy, all things considered, but couldn't help it.

It was a magic moment, at least for her. One so good that it just couldn't last.

And it wouldn't. Though she didn't know it yet, Willow Rosenberg would not live to see her eighteenth birthday.

She let it all last just a few moments longer, then said.

"We should probably get going."

"Mm," Buffy murmured, nudging Willow's shoulder with the tip of her nose.

"Now-ish."

Buffy groaned in complaint, but dragged herself out of the bed.

They had an apple each for breakfast and stashed haphazardly chosen canned food into sports bags along with swords and other necessities.

It was a respectable walk to town and it gave them enough time to decide on what to do.

As far as plans went, it wasn't overly complicated or intricate.

Step one: Locate vampires.

Step two: Kill the heck outta them.

Buffy had more experience hunting than she did, but it was mostly straightforward. The older vampires might have property bought with wealth accumulated over centuries.

But most resided in clichéd and easily accessible locations such as crypts and basements. Anything that offered some measure to security and protection from the sun.

The occasional bum might stray by, but hey, that was just a bonus for the undead. Everyone loves a free lunch.

Over the hours of the morning, they went from one derelict building to another. The most exciting thing to happen before lunch was when they broke into a place where a group of junkies had set up shop.

A man who looked like he was pushing fifty but probably wasn't a day over thirty-five swung a bat at Willow and with reflexes honed by hard practise and experience, she tumbled out of the way.

It's not as easy as one might think to throw a punch at another human with the intention of hurting them.

The man's arms were nearly skeletal where they poked out from the faded black t-shirt and both his forearms were covered in old needle-marks around the veins.

Demons had been one thing, but the man was kind of pitiful and Willow hesitated for a fraction of a second. It was enough for a second swing of the bat directed at her head.

Buffy stepped in, catching the wooden instrument one-handed without so much as flinching at what should've been enough force to break both her hand and arm.

She did not seem to appreciate what had happened. She didn't lose control, but coldly tore the bat out of the man's hands, snapped it in half and then proceeded to beat senseless him with the pieces. She didn't hit him hard. Not by slayer standards, at any rate. She didn't break any bones. Nor did she stop until he ceased struggling and surrendered to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. Willow more or less had to pull her out of there.

Not knowing what else to do, she decided that it was time to take a lunch break.

Buffy frowned, looked at Willow and then her hands and the specks of blood that covered them.

"He tried to hit you," she said dully.

"Yes," Willow agreed. "But he didn't."

"He could've hurt you," Buffy insisted, eyes flashing darkly. She glared at the building, a hundred yards away now.

They'd found a small playground no sane parent would ever let their child visit. It smelled faintly of cat droppings, but that was still an improvement from the rest of the area.

Willow gave the swing she sat on some speed while she waited for Buffy to use the can opener.

"But he didn't," she repeated.

Buffy didn't look angry any more as much as ashamed and worried.

"I kinda lost it," she said a little while later, when her food was gone and the can thrown on the ground.

"Yupp," Said Willow with a satisfied little smirk. She mimed taking notes mid-air. "A hungry slayer is a grouchy slayer. I learn stuff every day."

Buffy grinned a little and they both got off the swings, heading towards the bench a few feet away where they'd put their stuff.

Willow paused on the way to pick up Buffy's discarded trash, making sure to toss it into the trash bin along with her own.

They found the first corpse of the day in the second building they checked. It was a couple of days old and the skin had taken a sick greying pallor. It stank.

Willow had about three seconds to muse on the crappy timing before her stomach heaved and sent her rushing to the nearest corner to vomit violently. Sometimes, their job sucked.

Buffy barely reacted at all. She glanced over her shoulder as Willow kept on retching.

By the time she straightened up, the blonde was on her knees in front of the body on the floor.

She turned the deceased man's head left, then right, peering at his throat, shoulders tensing noticeably when she spotted something. Yatzi. They'd found vampires.

Willow got to her feet, spat on the floor and pulled out her sword. There was water in her bottle she longed to wash her mouth with, but it would have to wait.

They stalked through the house, wincing each time the floorboards creaked beneath their feet, step by excruciatingly slow step.

When they found the first vampire, Willow initially thought it was another corpse. But though it didn't breathe, nor move in the slightest, it was different.

It looked like a young man, mid-twenties by Willow's estimate. He was pale, but not unhealthily so... He didn't smell and there was blood on his lips.

She took a step in his direction, but stopped when she noticed Buffy's hand, held up and clenched in a fist. It meant 'Stop'. She did.

The window had been covered with a large sheet of brown paper that was being held in place by scotch tape.

Buffy's face set in grim determination and she tore the paper away.

For a drawn out, painfully long moment, nothing happened. Willow's heart pumped hard, sweat beaded on her forehead and her hands shook. Then the man's skin began to sizzle.

While they'd waited for a reaction, Buffy had moved over to the door they'd come through. Willow stood two yards away, ready to hit the vampire from the other direction.

By the time the vamp awoke and shot to it's feet, it was already aflame. It screamed piercingly, an utterly inhuman sound. Whether it was in pain or fright wasn't really possibly to tell. It was cut short when the two swords hit him.

Buffy who was considerably faster, both to react and otherwise, hit it first, severing the snarling head from the rest of the body. Willow's stroke came a split second later in the region of the abdomen, but hit nothing but the dust of the already disintegrating vampire.

They observed their work a moment. Buffy rolled her shoulders uneasily and Willow got the feeling she still burned for a fight. A proper one.

"Let's go check the basement."

The slayer blinked and seemed to regain focus.

"Yeah," she agreed.

The basement was padlocked. Buffy gave it a look, then tore it off without difficulty.

Willow didn't know whether she ought to be afraid or laugh at the sight the light pooling in from the floor above revealed to them.

The room downstairs was completely barren save for two honest to God coffins and some tools over in a corner.

She paused, cast Buffy a glance and mouthed.

"Are they frickin' kidding?"

The slayer shook her head ruefully.

"These guys are like the creationists of the undead."

Buffy brought out a bottle of Holy Water, uncorked it and put the lid in her pocket. She then raised her sword one-handed and waited for Willow to push the lid off the coffin.

It proved harder than she'd thought it'd be. The thing was heavy.

Grunting, she managed to get it out of the way, revealing the figure of a woman wearing an old-fashioned black dress.

Buffy splashed her face with the Holy Water and the regal but rather unappealing features changed, morphed, until they were monstrous and barely recognisable

Buffy took the head off with a one-handed swing of her sword. At the same time, the lid of the other coffin burst open and came flying in their direction. Buffy shielded herself with her arms and Willow hastily tried to dodge to the side.

Something grabbed onto her ankle and she fell with a shriek of panic, hitting the dirt floor hard.

She'd managed to break the fall with her arms, but the rolling motion Buffy had taught her hadn't worked because whatever had tripped her s held on to her foot.

She kicked viciously at it and heard the crunch of bones breaking under the weight and force of her boot.

Another hand shot up from the dirt, grabbing hold of her wrist, the one in which she held her only weapon.

The earth which had previously seemed solid stirred. Willow's glance fell on the shovels and then the coffins. The other vampire had jumped out of his and Buffy met him head on.

Meanwhile, as Willow fought to get out of the iron grip keeping her sword hand immobilized, two more vampires rose from the ground.

"Buffy, watch it!"

The slayer lashed out a blind kick behind her, catching one of the sneaky vampires in the jaw, sending him sprawling into a corner. She got dangerously close to behead the Anne Rice wanna-be and forced him to jump backwards. Which gave her enough space to move on the second which had been trying the same sneaky approach as his buddy, who lay dazed in a corner. The back-hand he swung at her cost him most of his arm.

Meanwhile, Willow looked around desperately for something to use to free herself.

The vampire holding her down from underground would be getting free any second, too. Her left foot touched something and Willow spotted the flask of holy water she'd dropped.

With a little bit of effort, she got it between her feet, tensed the muscles of her legs and stomach and lobbed it in the direction of her chest. She overshot it and got it square on the nose. Ouch.

Eyes streaming, she grabbed the flask wildly and slammed it all into the hand crushing down on her wrist.

Her own palm got cut by the shards of glass. But on the bright side, the vampires hand sizzled like if it had been sulphurous acid. The grip slackened and she rolled away.

Earth sprayed into her face as one of the shovels hit the ground half an inch from her face.

Shit, shit, shit.

Willow rolled again and another blow narrowly missed her. She got into a crouch and parried a third with her sword, though the force of it sent her tumbling back into the hard concrete wall.

Before she ducked yet another hit, she could see Buffy, down to a single vampire now, her face alight with the rush of battle.

The metal head of the shovel hit concrete and a shower of sparks erupted from the point of impact. Willow attempted to hamstring the vampire as she rolled past, but didn't do much more than cause it some pain.

It seemed like Mr Subterranean wasn't getting up. Willow stomped down hard on the hand without taking her eyes off the blonde vampire with the shovel.

Hang on. She stomped down again, then tilted her head sideways.

"Harmony?"

The vampire paused, frowned (which looked very odd with the bumpies) and then lost the . It was Harmony Kendall alright. Her face split in a vapid but bright smile.

"Hi, Willow!" She exclaimed. There was another hiss as Buffy took care of the last of her vampires.

Powerless broken fingers brushed against Willow's ankle. She thrust the tip of her sword at them, and they withdrew.

"Uhm. Hi Harmony." She looked awkwardly at the other girl. She dress she wore was covered in dirt and completely ruined, but had probably been nice before her death.

"How come you're a vampire?"

Harmony frowned stupidly. Buffy walked up to Willow's side, her body loose and relaxed now that the danger was pretty much over.

The slayer's hand rested dangerously low on her back.

"I'm a vampire?" Harmony asked, surprised stark on her face as if she'd been asked to point out Australia on the map. Then she turned thoughtful.

"I suppose that does explain why I wanna kill you and suck your blood," she mused.

Willow raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's kinda what vampires do."

"Totally," Harmony agreed. "Just you wait till I find Cordy. We're gonna have so much fun with you."

She frowned again at the sceptical expression the other girls were giving her and seemed to realize, for the first time, how much danger she was in.

"You could totally come with too, Willow," she tried to wheedle. "I know Cordy was being a bitch about you being a lesbo and all, but if we're vampires I'm sure that won't matter as much, right?"

She looked from one girl to the other and tried again.

"Right?"

Willow took a few steps forward. Harmony swallowed visibly.

"Uhm. You could do whatever you want to me," she tried pitifully. "Anything. Just don't kill me."

Willow's stomach did a small nauseous flip and she grimaced in disgust.

Then she gathered herself... and cut Harmony down. She'd planned some kind of comment like.

"That's for breaking my barbie in first grade!" But couldn't say it.

Buffy cleared her throat.

"Er- Will." She gave the wriggling fingers a pointed look. "I think you missed one."

Willow looked down at them.

With a bit of effort, Buffy dragged the vampire up enough for her to be able to dispatch it.

They did some digging, but didn't anything more, dead or undead. Once upstairs, Willow rinsed her mouth as well as she could with some water, drinking the rest. It still didn't get rid of the sick feeling to her stomach that Harmony's pleading had left.

Buffy put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"It's not easy," she said softly. "Killing someone you knew. Not even a complete cow like Harmony."

Willow chanced a glance at Buffy, who looked grave. She reached a conclusion quickly.

"You had to kill someone you knew too, didn't you?"

The slayer nodded.

"Before I moved to Sunnydale... My dad."

She swallowed and turned away. When she spoke again, as they walked out of the door, her voice was forced into a light and cheerfully conversational tone.

"We really should've let Harmony go kill Cordelia for us."

They got washed up in a Doublemeat Palace bathroom and shared some vanilla ice cream before setting off in the direction of Giles apartment.

It was still untouched and the both of them spent a little of leisure time in the familiar space, at first showering, then relaxing on the couch watching the TV.

Buffy found some bandages, cleaned and wrapped up Willow's hand and then brought the rest of the first aid kit along with them.

Thinking back on how vulnerable she'd been without her sword, Willow picked up a couple of knives from the weapon's chest. Buffy eyed a heavy looking axe for a little while, then put it in her bag along with a couple of stakes, knives and weapon maintenance tools.

They raided his fridge for something to eat and put everything else that wouldn't go bad within a couple of days or out in room temperature into their bags.

Willow located some disinfectant in the bathroom and hesitated a couple of seconds before taking the deodorant too. Slaying monsters was a stinky business, after all.

Heaving the now considerably heavier sports bag up on her shoulder, she walked out towards the living room again, passing by the little notice board of sorts Giles had kept on the wall.

Willow gave the calendar a second glance, counted the days and stared blankly at it.

"Oh," she said to herself, doing the math again just to make sure.

"What?" Asked Buffy, dumping her bag on the floor with a solid thunk.

"Today's my birthday." She'd completely lost track of things ever since Buffy had come to Sunnydale.

"I can't believe I forgot."

She was seventeen. Tick. Tock. Tick... Tock.