Willow woke, drool crusted down the side of her mouth and chin. Placing her palms flat against the stained rug, she pushed her torso up, arching her back slightly as she blinked to adjust her vision. A wide yawn spread as she pushed herself back, sitting on her heels and rubbing a weary hand across her mouth, then pushed the rest of the way up to her feet. Her eyes scanned the fetid room and she found Amy, half on the floor, half on a blue chair that once could’ve been described as plush, her head pillowed by arms crossed over the tattered seat. Just above Amy and to the left was Rack, his eyes shut as he sat upright on an equally worn green-gray couch, eerily motionless. Willow felt a momentary chill run through her veins, before she giggled at her reaction.
The after-effects of Rack’s magic made her head deliciously fuzzy and she struggled to be subtle as she moved toward Amy. Willow shook Amy’s shoulder and the sleeping woman jerked upward with a loud gasp. Willow attempted to shush her through an amused smile, gaining a sheepish look from Amy. One hand cupped her mouth, muffling snorts of laughter, Willow’s other pointed to Rack and then to the door. Amy stared through glassy eyes, stuck on the still man until a tug on her sleeve propelled her to move. The waiting room was still littered with desperation as they shuffled through and out into the near cusp of night and day.
Amy half stumbled into Willow and rested her weight fully, leaning on Willow’s side. They staggered and giggled together, making their way through the streets and toward the cemetery.
“It gave me the serious wiggins,” Amy said, the statement coming out of nowhere, “I mean who sleeps like that? Was he even sleeping? Maybe it was like meditation or something.”
“He’s gotta sleep sometime, “Willow shrugged as she ungracefully side-stepped a grave marker, “Ooh or maybe not! Maybe he magics away his need to sleep? Like, just gets all meditate-y for a bit and blammo! Sleep-be-gone!”
“I dunno Will, I am pretty fond of it- nothing like a good nap-“ Amy tilted her head slightly, listening. Was that a whoosh? She shrugged and scrunched her nose as she continued, “and suddenly I’m picturing snuggling down on a bed of wood shavings.”
Willow laughed loudly, uncaring of her surroundings even as the heady effects of Rack’s magic was waning. “Well not sleeping might help me actually get my papers written. I’ve got three due in a few days.”
“You? Miss – every-teacher’s-wet-dream? Behind on school?” Amy felt the twinge of jealousy return but she pushed it away, not ready to leave the bliss that had enveloped her this night.
“Ok, ew,” Willow said as they stepped onto the residential streets, nearing Revello Drive.
The long brown coat of a vampire caught the updraft with a whoosh as he descended from atop a mausoleum. His superior eyesight caught a glimpse of the two women walking dozens of feet away. The blood in his veins hummed as the predator stalked with the shadows, a smug curve to his lips as he listened to the women chat amiably, cluelessly.
He ran his tongue over his right fang and prepared to attack. A light caught his attention and he realized they were coming from the redhead’s chatty fingers. Sparks. Red and yellow sparks, small but furious, erupting as the woman moved. With wide eyes, the vampire slowly moved backward then ran fast and far. Witches. He’d been undead long enough to know to stay away from them. He reached the other end of the cemetery and took an unnecessary breath, closing his eyes in relief. When he opened them again it was to the sight of a stake speeding toward him. The last thing he saw was the Slayer, hip cocked and twenty feet in front of him. “Fuc-!” Clouds of dust can’t talk anymore.