Hey there! Miss me? ;) Anyhow, this is the long-awaited sequel to "A Slayer in Wonderland" and I have to warn you all that this will contain some violent and bloody themes. It'll be darker than ASiW but nothing ya'll shouldn't be able to handle. As always, the smutty companion pieces will be posted under "Perfect Companions" and I'm always open to more suggestions/ideas for the main story and sexy side dishes. Feedback is incredibly helpful to the creative process. As always, I must extend major thanks to Alaina Downs who continues to help me develop ideas and encourages me to keep writing. This probably wouldn't have happened without her invaluable input. Go and read her stuff and tell her how funny and awesome it is, especially her recently completed "David Hatter and the Power of Yoga". Sooo funny and hot!

And thanks also to all those who read, reviewed and supported ASiW. I hope you all enjoy this one!

Disclaimer: Blah blah, I own nothing original to the Syfy "Alice" miniseries nor anything original to the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Angel" television series. I merely own the plot and some characters.

Fight or Flight, Part I

Even the sun's eventual disappearance to deliver morning to the other side of the planet did not seem to bring an end to the oppressive, choking humidity. The sky was obscured by a thick haze, leaving only the brightest stars to shine weakly along with the moon. A cacophony of crickets and other night critters belted out their evening tunes, undaunted by the hot, moist air. It was a typical late July night for Cleveland, Ohio, but that did not make it any more bearable to a person who was raised in the far cooler Pacific Northwest. At least there was a breeze fluttering timidly off the shore of Lake Erie, producing a modicum of relief to the blonde girl who walked amongst the trees of the Wildwood area.

She swiped her hand across the back of her sweat-slicked neck. Beads of perspiration rolled down from her hairline. Her attire was not helping the situation either. She wore long trousers made of thick, quality denim and heavy, black leather boots which spanned half the length of her calves. At least her arms were bare in a tight-fitting, black V-neck t-shirt. Her blonde hair was cut boyishly short, rendering a hair tie and other such accessories unnecessary. Her face was not exactly what one would describe as pretty or beautiful. Her features were striking and sharp, and her dark green eyes bore a restive gleam. She was of average height for a girl and slender in build. Pearly pink lips shaped a mouth which wore a scowl more often than a smile. Her pace was leisurely, but not without purpose. The girl was not out for a pleasant midnight stroll.

Encircling her wrist was a strange black device with a tiny red light that pulsed in a steady rhythm. She wore black fingerless gloves of tough but pliable leather on her hands. A sheath was strapped to her right thigh, containing a small dagger while her left leg had a length of wood sharpened to a lethal point strapped to it. Two more knives were also stashed on her person, strapped to the lateral side of each leather boot. She carried a medium-sized crossbow, currently pointed towards the ground as she stealthily moved through the woods, scanning the area with her senses. The crossbow was already loaded and there were several more bolts in a quiver slung across her back.

Unusual though her appearance might be to most people, it was not exactly bizarre to see a girl who looked scarcely older than eighteen walking the streets (or, in this case, the woods) of Cleveland armed with archaic weaponry. In the dead of night and by herself no less. Erica Leitheiser was, in fact, only eighteen years old. But what she lacked in age she made up for in several other…less obvious areas. She was part of the handful of young women in the city who possessed unique talents and abilities. These talents and abilities were put to use defending this city and its inhabitants from the otherworldly threats which plagued the area due to the unfortunate circumstances of being located over top of a hellmouth. Though it was largely ignored by the rest of the nation and, to a certain degree, by its own citizens, the city of Cleveland, Ohio was a site of regular and, sometimes, overwhelming demonic activity. As Vampire Slayers with supernaturally enhanced physical strength, senses, stamina, and speed, Erica and her comrades were dedicated to combating this demonic activity and limiting the damage wrought by the dark attractive forces of the hellmouth.

Well, technically Erica had only served in the official capacity of a Slayer for eight months. The majority of those eight months she had endured as a bottom-ranking trainee. She had finally been released to patrol unsupervised a week and a half ago-a release which had been delayed by six weeks because she had had the misfortune to be placed under the mentorship of Alice Hamilton, the second-in-command of the Cleveland Hellmouth Slayers and chief combat instructor. For one reason or another, Alice seemed to think the normal six month time period under which a trainee Slayer is prohibited from patrolling alone was an inadequate length of time where Erica was concerned. Erica had disagreed. Unfortunately, the word of a Slayer who had several years more experience under her belt carried a lot more weight than the word of a Slayer who had come fresh from the Academy in London.

And, of course, by the time I'm allowed out on my own there's nothing going on. She sighed despondently, running her hand along the rough ridges on the bark of an ash tree. She was patrolling through the lakefront. It was not exactly known as a demon hotspot. They tended to cluster around the Flats district at the very center of the hellmouth. But she had been through the Flats already tonight. And the night before that. And the night before that. She had grown tired of taking out the fledgling ruffians. None of the demon residents were causing any trouble so she could not attack them without violating the tenuous truce between the Clans and the Slayers. So she thought that, for once, she might try her luck in the state park ringing Lake Erie. She had not expected much and after an hour of walking aimlessly around the marina and the beach, all was maddeningly quiet in the supernatural sense. Other than the group of teenagers who were unashamedly disobeying the "no swimming after dark" rule, there was not a soul around. Or anything that might be lacking a soul.

It was not exactly fair, in Erica's opinion. She had only been twelve when the Battle of Sunnydale had occurred. She did not come into her Slayer powers until three years afterward when she had reached the age of fifteen, the traditional age when a Slayer is called. And even then she had not been given a stake and pointed in the direction of a vampire. By then an entire academy had been established which offered an all-expenses paid, traditional education to teenage Slayers in addition to the training and preparation they would require for battling demons and vampires. After three years there, graduated Slayers were dispersed all over the world depending on the need of the supernatural hotspots and/or the preferences of the Slayers themselves. Erica had chosen Cleveland over the foreign hellmouths and other dark nodes. The opportunity to learn different customs and languages may have appealed to some girls, but she was uninterested in such things. All she had wanted was an opportunity to pummel some demons and vampires.

She had participated in numerous field exercises at the Academy, so it was not like she had arrived in Cleveland not knowing which end of the stake to use. But a hellmouth was a completely different arena than the relatively tame London environment. This was the main reason for the existence of the six-month restriction period. Erica would have tried to argue that Slayers of the past had not bothered with such technical and bureaucratic nonsense. But that argument was nullified when she remembered that past Slayers had also tended to die less than a year after being called. She had to grudgingly admit that the new requirements probably did extend the life-spans of the young warriors by a significant margin.

She had bristled at the restrictions nonetheless. To rattle the bars of cages, invisible or real, was ingrained into her character. Her entire life seemed to be one long stretch of battling against things which she imagined were designed to hold her back. She had been constantly getting into trouble when she was younger. Whether it was in the classroom, on the recess playground, or in her own home, Erica just did not have a taste for rules. She knew some rules made sense, but there were so many other rules that had no foundation in logic and seemed so arbitrary that it seemed silly to follow them. She had been a nightmare to a string of exasperated teachers. Her parents had not quite known what to do with her. They had their perfect oldest child, Erica's elder brother who had just graduated from college and was off to pursue a degree in law. And they had their precious little baby, her younger sister, who was still in high school with high hopes of being admitted to Julliard.

But Erica had had no discernible talents or ambitions—save for the talent (perhaps not exactly ambition) of getting into places she should not be or doing things she should not do. A talent for trouble was all she seemed to possess. That was a talent her parents were not willing to cultivate. So when the representatives of the International Organization of Slayers and Watchers had shown up on her doorstep, her parents were only too happy to cart her off with them. She would have been more hurt by their eagerness to be rid of her had she not been so thrilled with the prospect that finally she was special in some area.

Forget being a lawyer or a cellist, Erica was going to kill monsters and help save the world! How on earth could her perfect siblings top that? But once more her expectations had fallen cruelly short of reality. The only monster killing she had done thus far had been in conjunction with other Slayers, so there was little opportunity for personal glory. The stories of Buffy Summers's exploits in Sunnydale when she had been their age were swapped around and re-told with awe and admiration. But Erica only felt envy when she thought of them. She wanted a chance to take out evil by herself. She wanted to inspire awe and respect for once instead of being looked down upon with shame and derision or worse: complete indifference. She wanted to matter in a way that did not involve getting into trouble. But she was still "just a rookie" in the eyes of the older Slayers on the base. Therefore, her opinions offered up little merit and she was expected to defer to older, more experienced Slayers. It irked her to no end.

The blonde girl scowled. According to her mentor, she was too impatient, too impulsive, too hotheaded. Erica would not be surprised if Alice had a list drawn up somewhere with all of her faults. Ironically, it was Erica's lack of desire (rather than lack of ability) to operate as a team member which had delayed her release to operate on her own. Because she was so averse to sharing glory and working with other Slayers, Alice had not trusted that she would actually call for backup in a dangerous situation.

"I know you, Erica! You'll just throw yourself into the fray without even judging the situation to see if it might be too much for you to handle by yourself. You do this all the time when we're on the field and the only reason you haven't been killed is because I've been there to save you. Not to mention you put your team members at risk when you go gallivanting on your own and don't follow the orders of your squad leader. And you want me to let you be released? I'm sorry, but you're not ready. Your actions last month especially have only shown that you'd be a danger to yourself and others. I'm not doing this to punish you, okay. I'm doing it for your own good. I have no choice but to deny your release."

Her scowl deepened. The humiliating memory was crystal clear even almost two months afterward, and the impact still stung. Those words had been spoken seven weeks ago when the six month review had come up and Erica had been shocked to learn her release was to be denied. She had hated Alice for several weeks after that. In a burst of frustration, she kicked a rock on the ground, her enhanced strength causing it to completely take off the branch of a tree several yards ahead. There were several angry screeches that followed and a bird flapped indignantly off into the shadows. Erica leaned against a tree and slid down to the ground. She dropped her crossbow in her lap, the bolt still firmly mounted and the bow string drawn back in anticipation of being sent slamming into some evil fiend's flesh. The weapon had actually been a gift from Alice and it even had Erica's name engraved upon the stock in bright, sterling silver letters.

Her thoughts wandered back to the mentor with whom it would seem she would always be somewhat at odds with. Alice was four years older than her. She was one of the Slayers who had fought in the Battle of Sunnydale over six years ago alongside Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane, the two reigning Slayers of the time. Erica wished she could have been there, though any Slayer from that battle was quick to tell her it was not an experience they wanted to repeat. They had lost many girls in the fight against the First Evil and its Turok-Han minions. But that battle transformed all those survivors into heroes. Anyone who was a Sunnydale veteran was treated with instant respect and admiration, even if they were not a Slayer.

But she has such a stick up her ass, I swear. What does her boyfriend see in her? Other than her looks. I guess she is kind of pretty.

Erica smiled wistfully when Alice's boyfriend came to mind. He had come from a different dimension, one called Wonderland. That name had been a source of much amusement to everyone at the base. It was almost too fantastic to be true. But David Hatter, who preferred just to go by his surname, was absolutely wonderful. Not only was he incredibly handsome and funny with his endearing accent and interesting array of porkpie hats, but he was so quirky and kind everyone could not help but be immediately charmed by him. Why a man so interesting and vibrant had fallen for a girl like Alice was beyond Erica. But there was no denying that Hatter and Alice were devoted to each other. She herself had never had a real boyfriend, only a few boys she had kissed. She had not even lost her V-card yet, but that was not something she had been really concerned about until Hatter came around. Now she found herself watching the two of them with a combination of disgust and envy. Would she ever find someone to love her and look at her the way Hatter loved and looked at Alice?

But even Hatter saw her as nothing more than a kid. Though she entertained no illusions of being able to woo his affections away from Alice (she would be lying if she did not admit to fantasizing about it), she at least wanted to be thought of as more than his girlfriend's troublesome charge. So from the first moment that she had been cleared for release, she had seized the opportunity to seek out a foe of her own to vanquish. Every night and most days thereafter she had been on a solitary hunt. She must have prowled through every square inch of Cleveland (at least it felt like it) utterly consumed by the need to prove herself. That would show her parents and all those teachers who thought she was good for nothing but getting into trouble. That would show Alice that she was capable of handling things on her own and that she did not need anyone else to save her. That would show Hatter that she was more than just a child.

Except the hellmouth was not cooperating with this plan. It was going through a short dormant period. To most Slayers this period of time was almost like a vacation. She knew that soon enough some kind of supernatural crisis would arise and then she might have her chance to live up to her new status. But as she leaned against the ash tree in the woods which were silent except for the buzzing of crickets and the playful voices of humans on the fringes of the beach, she really wished it would be sooner rather than later. She could not stand the thought of returning to headquarters with nothing to show for the night again. Of course, she was the only one keeping score, so, on the one hand, it did not matter much. But it mattered to her.

Maybe she ought to just hop on over to Lorne's club and nurse her disappointment over a few virgin cocktails. One would think a nightclub and karaoke bar owned by a demon from a different dimension in the East Bank of the Flats would not care about alcohol laws, but apparently Lorne was not willing to serve to underage patrons. And it was no good trying to fool him with fake identification since he knew all the Slayers. But at least the non-alcoholic drinks tasted good. And since Hatter had started working there tending the bar, Caritas Dos had experienced an increase in patronage within the young female demographic-especially among the Slayers. Perhaps he would be working tonight. That rare smile graced her face once more, softening her sharp features for a brief moment.

She rose to her feet and brushed off the assortment of twigs, dead leaves, and dirt which had stuck to her jeans, resigning herself to yet another uneventful hunt. She began making her way back towards the bridge. The only light she had to guide her way was the crescent shaped moon and its army of stars, though they were dimmed out by the moisture permeating the atmosphere. She did have a flashlight in her pocket, but her eyes were supernaturally enhanced to see clearly in poor lighting, though her vision was not quite as sharp as a vampire's would be. Yet there was enough silvery illumination that she could easily traverse the overturned logs, protruding tree roots and occasional inclines.

The trees began to shake, their leaves rustling together in a cadence of whispers. Erica's senses undulated with distinct warning and she came to a halt. She immediately began scanning the area, her heart thumping with fearful anticipation. She could not exactly isolate a location for whatever the source of this…anomaly was that her Slayer senses had identified. It was something entirely new; that much she could discern. She knew what vampires and all the motley demon species felt like. They each had their own unique but subtle signature. But this phenomenon did not register on her radar of familiar signatures. Her lips curled into a feral smile, a smile that contained none of the whimsical warmth of her earlier smile. The implication was promising.

She listened closely, honing her senses as she had been trained to do for the past three years. All background noises were blocked out to make way for any sign of what (or where) the source of this new phenomenon might be. She really hoped it was not just a glitch or a supernatural ripple of the dark magicks of the hellmouth. Now that would have been the cream of the crop of disappointment; as if the Powers That Be themselves were mocking her. From what she had heard about them and their games, she would not put it past them. Not that she presumed herself to be so significant that they would take time out of governing the Earth dimension to play tricks on her. But stranger things had happened.

Then she heard it. It was the beating of wings; large, powerful wings sweeping up a maelstrom in the air above the canopy just a few yards ahead. Then an otherworldly screech split the air, piercing her over-sensitive eardrums even from where she stood and Erica clapped her hands against her ears in knee-jerk reaction to fend off the auditory assault. Tree branches groaned and cracked as whatever it was that had been hovering in the air just above them began descending to the forest floor. Erica instinctively placed herself behind a tree just a few paces ahead to scope it out. She might have been itching for a supernatural brawl, but she was not an idiot. While it did not register as malevolent, that did not rule out it being a threat to her. This creature would learn of her presence when she willed it. It was one of the first rules one learned in how to keep control of a situation.

It had landed in a small glade, allowing weak moon and starlight to breach the canopy. It gave Erica the perfect opportunity to look upon this new creature and figure out what it might be and what sort of threat it might pose. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribcage-half-hoping that it was something dangerous she could attack and half-hoping it was something innocuous. For the creature, whatever it was, was too exotically beautiful to be something evil. It was bizarrely contrived, however. It was massive, easily the size of a rhinoceros or hippopotamus. The wings which sprouted from its back were membranous like bat wings with spiny extended digits appearing to be grafted throughout the thick, leathery tissue. She could not narrow down a color to apply to it, for its appearance was fluidly shifting in color. It almost appeared to blend into the backdrop of the moonlit glade.

Camouflage ability…amazing.

It had a distinctly leonine body, sleek, muscular, and supporting itself on four limbs. Its strange chameleon-like ability to shift its outward appearance made it difficult to tell if it had fur, feathers, or scales on its torso. But she could clearly see the long, terribly sharp beak extending from its face. It was currently tipped towards the ground. Erica's eyes traveled to the ground as well and her heart skipped. In a heap on the ground in front of the creature was a person. He or she was not moving and made no sounds of distress. That meant he or she was either dead, unconscious, or too traumatized to do anything about his or her predicament. Because of the shadowy conditions, Erica could not make out any blood or wounds. She needed to know whether the human was dead or alive, for that would definitely determine her next move. Her hand hovered over her wrist device.

The creature lowered its beak and prodded the human on the ground roughly. The poor fellow gave off a low moan riddled with agony and fear. He (for it sounded like a man) was still alive and it looked like he had earned himself a place on this beast's menu. Well, no meal would be had if Erica had any say in the matter. Her hand snapped away from her wrist and went to the crossbow. Her finger threaded through the trigger mechanism. She had a clear shot from where she stood and the distance was well within range of a bolt. A strange apprehension welled up within her, causing the hand which aimed the crossbow to tremble.

What was wrong with her? Now was not the time to second-guess herself or hesitate. This was the moment she had been waiting for! But now that she was here, confronted with the opportunity to take on an entirely new threat all on her own, she found herself battling the insidious tendrils of doubt and fear. What if she failed? That was something which had not crossed her mind before.

Shoot it, you idiot, otherwise that man is mince meat! Literally!

She steeled herself and took her shot. The bolt zipped through the air and punctured straight through one of those enormous leathery wings. The creature reared up on its haunches, releasing an enraged wail. This shriek, filled with a mixture of pain, shock, and anger, was even more powerful than its first cry and Erica felt like her skull was about to split in two. The crossbow tumbled from her hands as she instinctively reached up to cover her ears in a vain attempt to block out the screech. The creature's cry vibrated in her skull and she felt like it was pushing her brain out through her ears to make room for itself. It was immensely painful. She inadvertently stumbled backwards and, in a display of clumsiness not normally found within a naturally dexterous Slayer, fell over a stump.

If the crossbow bolt tearing through its wing had not announced her presence, her humiliating and completely unprofessional fall certainly betrayed it. By some small mercy the beast's wail died off, but it still echoed within the confines of Erica's skull. Her ears continued to ring long after the fact and there was a distinct sensation of wetness trickling out of them. But she had no time to worry about the possibility of temporary hearing impairment. The girl barely had time to recover her senses before she felt more than heard the thuds on the ground. She glanced up to see the creature charging toward her, its golden eyes filled with maddened hunger and pain. The large talons on its paws tore up great chunks of earth, roots and leaf litter from the forest floor. Erica had only seconds to make a somewhat clumsy but effective evasive maneuver. She rolled off to the side at the last possible moment, allowing the beast's considerable momentum to carry it into the thick foliage.

Standing proved to be difficult and her surroundings spun before her eyes. She had the feeling that she was on a rocking boat. This was not a welcome development. Had that creature's ear splitting cry also disturbed her equilibrium? She stumbled over to where her crossbow lay by the tree, falling to her knees as her balance gave way. The world abruptly steadied then and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Most of her bolts had spilled out of her quiver when she had fallen and she did not want to take the time to try to retrieve them from the forest floor. She snatched up her crossbow and quickly turned to face the beast, which was snarling angrily at the branches it had become entangled with. She withdrew one of the few remaining bolts from the quiver. Feeling as if she had the upper hand once more, a triumphant smirk broke out on her blood-drained face. The triumph was short-lived. Before she could even draw the bow string back to secure the bolt in the stock, tree branches snapped as if they were dried kindling and the beast flew at her

It slammed Erica to the ground, growling and snapping its terrifying razor-edged beak. She desperately pressed her hands against its neck, dimly noting that it was coated with fur and a fringe of soft, downy feathers. It took nearly all her super-empowered strength to hold the creature at bay enough to keep its beak from tearing into her throat. Her ears still rung terribly, muting out the external sounds. Her heart was pounding furiously, no longer powered by exhilaration but by honest to god fear that this battle may not only end up with her on the losing end, but with her six feet under the ground.

Erica drove her boot up into what she believed to be its groin, vaguely hoping it might be a male with external, and, therefore, vulnerable, genitalia. She laid kick after kick into its underbelly until the beast rose up on its haunches, seemingly more annoyed than injured. She then pulled both her legs to her chest and lashed out with a powerful double kick. The beast retreated by a few feet. Seizing the opportunity of having freed hands, Erica wasted no time flipping the small switch on the underside of her wrist device. She had just activated her distress signal. Her bravado from before had been thoroughly shattered by the utter realization that she was no match for this creature alone. As loathe as she was to admit it, she would need assistance to take this thing down. With her distress signal being sent to base, other Slayers would hopefully arrive shortly to do just that.

The only question was: would she survive until then?

I swear, Hatter and Alice will show up in the next chapter! Feedback would be glorious!