Night embraced the gang under the stainless surveillance of a full moon. Few words were exchanged between its wary members and the trespasser in their midst. Spike strode onwards, detached, fingers burning with the coercive intent to kill. Before long, he was leading the procedures, shoving an infuriated Slayer into the back seat for the first time in her short, duty-bound life. A weak glow reflected off three tense faces and an undead mask whose skin shone in the darkness, contrasting with eyes that acquired the colour of the sky. Willow was left adrift in the lines of Spike's profile before a wave of incredulous self-reproach swallowed up wonder. She quickly stared down at her forbidding stake, endeavouring to focus on the task at hand. The vampire's mouth shifted in pointed amusement which soon gave way to qualms. Lips died in bleakness.

"Is he gonna play or not?!…", Buffy burst out of the blue, impatiently twirling the crossbow. A harsh sigh was heard. "Not with you broadcasting our arrival, Slayer." This earned its speaker a hazel glare. The woods were silent and no one was prepared for what happened next. Unholy screeching hit their ears like lightning as an indescribably loathsome creature tore out of the trees, bulging eyeballs on the stunned warriors. Buffy swiftly recovered, kicking the swamp thing point blank in the stomach. The impact sent it crashing against a pine tree. Before anyone could strike a second time, a long, sharp branch was ripped off its perch and furiously swept through the air by the monster. Slayer and vampire ducked, shielded by unfailing reflexes, yet Xander was not so lucky. The blow left him unconscious. "XANDER!", Willow yelped, crouching next to her hapless friend. Spike froze. The opportunity was not lost on the creature who proceeded to attack the blond demon without ceremony. At the third punch, it was confronted with a blazing game face. "Party's over, mate." Undead agility served the vampire well in a tough job made tougher by having to avoid swamp venom. His whole being was driven by the blind compulsion to tear the other to pieces so that the thing was finally left with no other option but to bolt.

"Great. Will, stay here with Xander! Spike, let's go catch it.", Buffy angrily ordered. Without waiting for an answer, she dashed off in the monsterīs trail. Spike stood transfixed for a second, darting a glance at the anguished redhead over his shoulder. The thought startled him and he growled. Willow looked up to see his leather-clad figure vanishing into the blackness. A pang of denial filled her heart. Pulling the boy's injured head into her lap, the girl mentally thumped herself for reacting like a five-year-old. Fear had erased courage, shattering her flimsy self-esteem in the process. She felt helpless and disgusted with what she labelled her faint heart.

"Xander…wake up! Come on…please wake up…", Willow pleaded into the boy's closed eyelids. He didn't. Further entreaties were cut short by a vicious stab of pain down her back. Turning an aghast gaze behind her, she let Xanderīs head slip slowly onto the damp ground. An exact replica of the first swamp creature stood there with her blood dripping off its hooked tentacles. It grinned. Nausea clutched the redhead. For a moment, she did not react, unwilling to face the reality of the attack, yet her eyes landed on her friendīs vulnerable features and this dictated her next move. In a flash, clenched fists rammed the savage stake into the monsterīs chest. It staggered, gazing at her through watery, unfeeling orbs. One arm shot out and flung her to the ground. The girlīs nape hit a stone and she passed out just as the prodigal vampire sprinted forwards and lunged at her dying opponent. Icy wrists cracked its lifeless spine, yellow eyes glazed with wrath. The creature never felt it. Spike spun around, taking stock of the damage. His head swam with the smell of spilt blood. Clasping Willow to his chest with unthinking speed, he came in contact with the gash on her skin. Crimson warmth seeped out of it. It took the vampire all he was made of to impale his thirst. "Red! RED!", he shook the girl before seeking for breath on her lips. She was alive. Eyelids parted in an unseeing gaze. "Willow...", he muttered, lips crushing her forehead painfully. A small moan answered him. Before Buffy stepped into the clearing once more, the redhead was out of his arms and he stood some distance away, face blank.

"Oh God, what happened?!", she cried, rushing in aid of her friend. Spike pointed to the fallen creature with a shrug. "Your pals need a doctor." Hazel eyes shot him a look of sheer fury.

"Can you act just a little more indifferent, cause Iīm kinda feeling like you care!", she snapped.

"Save the sarcasm, alright? You take Red, I get the boy.", the vampire coldly retorted. Buffy grimaced in barely contained disgust. "If itīs not too much trouble..."

Xander was unceremoniously thrown over Spikeīs shoulder and no more words were spoken. The Slayer picked up her friend, seeing the flesh wound for the first time. Willow opened her mouth to say something, but Buffy did not let her. "Itīs gonna be OK, Will...we nailed the other one." Green eyes closed. Spike waited, lighting the first cigarette of the evening. The blonde girl frowned, staring into the redheadīs wan face. "Why her? I mean, Xander was already down..." It was not a rhetorical question. A cool voice explained. "She was in the way. Besides...red hair." He said the two words as if it were only too obvious. Yet Buffy was not enlightened. "Huh?..." Spike rolled his eyes. "They donīt think, they react. Your little friendīs all colour. The hair, the clothes...", he trailed off, briefly glancing at the object of his logic. "Swell. So now she canīt even make her own style without being prey.", the Slayer replied, bitterness edging her tone. "Good, old Hellmouth..." A stream of smoke left Spikeīs lips. He did not answer the comment. This made her want to hurt. "Was it fun for you too?" Spike clamped his fangs together. "A real treat." His mouth curled into the darkest smile Buffy had ever seen. She cursed herself for having asked.

The moon caressed Willowīs paleness as a mother soothes away her childīs pain.

THE END