disclaimer in part 1

Swan Song
By Diane
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THE PANIC

"Buffy!"

She ducked and rolled as one of the two Mohras pounding on
her roared and exploded into nothing, its jewel cracking in
its head without even so much as a tap from her blade.

"Thank you, Willow and Tara," she muttered, sparing a quick
glance towards her red-headed friend. Giles and Xander were
fending off some Mohras from them while they cast. She
could see the soft, eerie glows emanating from them, both
deep in thought as they focused on their next target.

She glanced around the battle, making sure no one needed
help. Gunn was cutting a swath with his huge axe, two
Mohras already dead at his quick hand, and a third well on
its way. She couldn't help but marvel at him. He was a
good combatant. Way better than most humans.

Cordelia and Wesley were tag-teaming one particularly brutal
Mohra, and Buffy nearly did a double take. She knew from
Angel that Cordelia did get her hands dirty in battle
sometimes, but actually seeing it was another matter.

All in all, they were doing well. Five Mohras down, five
left in the mix.

A blade swung by her neck.

She barely managed to dodge in time.

Hefting Angel's blade out in front of her, she prepared for
the worst. The one Mohra that was still left was a nasty
one. Bigger than the rest, and a lot more pissed off.

"Hey, your shoe is untied!" she cried.

The Mohra glared, growling at her.

She shrugged as she swept the blade out in an arc meant to
decapitate. It wouldn't kill the damn thing, but it would
make it much easier to smash the jewel... "Well, it was
worth a shot. I think I'm out of puns for the day..." she
grunted as the large demon ducked under her swing and kicked
outwards.

She leapt backwards, just missing the one-way ticket into
the gravel, and she warded him back with the lengthy
claymore.

"Herald, the End of Days. The Slayer has fallen, and the
nights of a thousand deaths begin!" he growled.

He seemed to be a big fan of growling...

Buffy arched an eyebrow. "Newsflash pal, I'm still
kicking!" She lashed out with a roundhouse.

"Your Warrior is dead."

That nearly froze her in her tracks.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the portal
irising shut, sucking inwards on itself until it blinked and
went out entirely. Darkness, nothing but the glow from
Willow and Tara illuminating the battle field.

No.

She blinked.

No.

Angel was going to find a way to come back. And Spike was
coming, too.

Soon.

She had to believe that.

The Mohra smirked, the jewel on its head gleaming in the dim
light, mocking her. "There is no way out except the portal
which _he_ just closed."

Swing.

Buffy raised the claymore high above her head and brought it
down like an axe descending on a chopping block. The blade
stopped its descent with a rough, jarring vibration, and
she heard the screech of unforgiving metal as the parry with
the Mohra's great sword bit into the edge of her blade. She
winced as the force of the hit jumbled its way back into her
grip and shook her.

Throwing all of her weight into it, she swept her sword out
of the parry and into a circular motion, throwing the enemy
blade off of it.

With a scream of anger, she leapt in for the kill. The
claymore behaved beautifully as she kicked her heel into
the Mohras gut and sent him sprawling, just in time for her
to the smash the jewel with the razor tip. She jammed it
hard into his head, like Excalibur into the stone.

Resistance gave way almost immediately as it howled and
shriveled away into nothing, sending the claymore point
first into the pavement. A terrible shrieking noise as her
weight sent the blade sliding out in front of her, down
across the concrete, sparks leaving a swath behind the tip
as she collapsed next to it.

Blinking, she glanced around.

The other Mohras were dead.

The portal was gone.

And everyone was staring at her.

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