Creative Works   

My All (Part 3)
By Tess

Disclaimer: These characters, except for Kat and Jeff, are not mine. I am borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and all those really cool people. I promise to return them only a little worse for the wear. Please don't sue--remember, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!
Special Thanks Go To: Becca, for helping me to decide to write this story and her constructive criticism; my brother Jonathan for being my partner in crime as well as my Buffy viewing partner, and giving me an honest opinion on what I write; Chana, for being the best and possibly most critical proofreader a girl could have; Jon, because he said I had to thank him; Joss Whedon for creating Buffy; and the wonderful cast of the show for bringing it to life.

. . .

Sunnydale H.S. Library, around 3 a.m....

"Ohmygod! Oh My God! Giles, Giles come here, this is it! I found her!" The redheaded hacker was almost delirious with excitement.

"What? You did? Are you sure?" The tweed-clad watcher abandoned his position in his office, where he had been poring over local maps, and ran to Willow's side.

"I think so."

"Well, how do you know? She wouldn't be, uh, foolish enough to register under her own name, would she?" Giles asked, with a slightly hopeful tone to his voice.

"No, I don't think so. However, the ****** Hotel in L.A. has a 'Willow Giles' registered. It doesn't say what room she's in, though."

"'Willow Giles.' You think that might be her?" The watcher nervously ran a hand through his hair.

"I hope so, Giles, I really do. It has to be her! I can just feel it. I mean, it's too much of a coincidence, don't you think? The scientific probabilities of finding a person with two of our names combined in a logical radius have to be...."

"A-all right, Willow. Now, on the assumption that Buffy is indeed using a pseudonym..."

"A suit of what?" Xander, who had just meandered down from the stacks with Cordelia, popped his head over Giles' shoulder, looking confused.

Giles lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose, glaring at Xander over the top of them. "A pseudonym...a false name. Pseudo means false, and nym...well, you get the picture. Now, if you can please refrain from your wisecracks, we're trying to...we think we might have found Buffy."

"For real?" Xander's face went dead serious, and Cordelia clutched his arm.

"For real." Willow looked up at her best friend and smiled with such hope and conviction that Xander couldn't help but hug her, wheelchair and all.

"This is great!" he cried. "You take the laptop, Will; Oz, you gas up the van; Cordy and I will go grab some food for the trip, and Giles...go grab some books or something!"

"Wait a minute." Giles grabbed Xander's arm. "Rash and impulsive behavior never begets anything worthwhile."

"Uh, translation?" Xander turned to Willow, the brains of the group.

"He meant that we shouldn't rush into things. We need a plan first, right Giles?"

"Yes, a-a plan." Giles wiped his glassed on a piece of cloth, trying to think of the best course of action.

"Well, we're in luck," Xander interjected, "because I am the Plan Man! Now here's the plan: Will, you take the laptop; Oz, you gas up the van; Cordy and I will go grab some food for the trip, and Giles...go grab some books or something! How's that for a plan?"

Giles looked as if he were about to kill Xander until Willow placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"You know, Giles, that's really not that bad a plan. I mean, in this case, if we don't move fast, we might miss her, and who knows when we'll be able to find her again?"

"So there," Xander smirked at Giles. "I told you I was the plan man, but did you listen? No; you mocked my planning powers, you tweedy little...."

"That's quite enough Xander, thank you." Giles cut Xander off, knowing that the longer the boy babbled, the worse it would get. The watcher needed a clear head tonight; their success might depend on it.

. . .

The penthouse, about 3:10 a.m....

"So now it's your turn." Buffy propped her head on her elbows and looked up at Kat, who sat in an overstuffed arm chair across from the bed.

"Huh?"

"It's your turn. You promised that when I finished my story, you would tell me who you really are." Buffy's eyes had turned hard again; they changed from the eyes of a lonely teenage girl to those of a world-worn slayer...focused, sharp, and icy.

"Really, my history is nothing compared to..." Kat stopped in mid-sentence as Buffy pulled a stake from her wrist sheath.

"Oh, but are you sure about that? Wanna reconsider?" Buffy asked, her tone low and menacing.

Kat visibly paled before replying. "Okay, fine. But no interruptions until I finish, deal?"

Buffy waved the stake around in the air a bit. "Who are you to be calling the shots with me?"

"If you'd shut up for a minute, I'd tell you!" Kat's eyes were blazing blue-green fire at Buffy and the slayer knew better than to mess with Kat at that moment.

"Okay. Speak. You have my undivided attention."

"Fine. It all started about two weeks ago, at the Vanderbilt family picnic..."

. . .

"Kat? Katrine, are you okay?" Kat was doubled over on the pavement, clutching her stomach with the strangest look on her face. Her mother bent over her, shaking her shoulder gently. Kat tried to tell her mom that something felt funny, that she felt like her insides were being...replaced somehow, but the words wouldn't come out. She had felt weird since the night before, but it had never been as bad as it was at that moment. Suddenly, as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone. Kat sprang to her feet from the hard pool-side cement, amazed at how well she suddenly felt.

"Well, that was a quick recovery!" Korinne Vanderbilt remarked. "What was wrong? That time of the month?"

"No, that was last week. It must have just been indigestion or something."

"Hmm, well I'm glad you feel better. Kaylie wants you to go swimming with her. She's been dying to go since she heard there would be a pool here, and you know we can't let her swim on her own. I'd take her, but I forgot my suit."

Kat looked at her mother, marveling at how young she looked for her forty-two years. One would hardly guess her to be a day over thirty-five. With her tall, willowy body and laid-back personality, most people thought that she was Kat's sister, rather than her mother. Kat took after her mother in many ways: her mahogany hair, blue-green eyes, her slender, muscular frame, to name a few. And somehow, despite her great beauty and million dollar career as a best-selling author, Korinne Vanderbilt was unaffected by success. She was not a selfish diva, obsessed with fighting the aging process; quite the contrary, actually. Korinne took things as they came, which was one of the reasons her children and husband loved her so much. Korinne had met Peter Vanderbilt when she was 19, a starving writer paying her bills through the occasional modeling job. He was 28, about to put all his years of medical school to work as he joined the staff of the hospital where his father was chief physician. They married six months later, and the next year Kat's older brother Michael was born. While Peter Vanderbilt worked long hours building up his reputation as one of the most skilled doctors in the area, Korinne stayed at home and wrote while she took care of Michael. By the time Michael was three, her first bestseller had been published, and by the time Kat was born two years later, she had added another bestseller to her accomplishments. Korinne Vanderbilt was quickly becoming a household name. By the time Kat was six, they had enough money to move into a small mansion in the upscale part of L.A. Even then, Peter and Korinne Vanderbilt always made time for their children. The kids never had a nanny; when their parents went away, Grandma Vanderbilt came to stay with them. Kat always felt like she had the ideal childhood. The years flew by, and before she knew it, Michael was leaving for college, she was about to start high school, and Kaylie would be celebrating her first birthday. Kaylie had been a surprise; the years had gone by after Kat's birth and Korinne just couldn't seem to get pregnant again. Then, at thirty-seven years old, she found out she was pregnant with Kaylie, her 'miracle baby.' Being the youngest, Kaylie was a little spoiled, but she was a great kid. At four years old, she was incredibly precocious, already reading and writing. Swimming, however, was the one skill Kaylie just couldn't seem to master, which was why Kat had to always go in the pool with her.

Kat's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a scream from the other end of the Olympic-sized pool. Kaylie's scream, she realized. Looking up, she saw her sister floundering in the diving end of the pool, and without thinking, launched herself into the crystal blue water. She made it across the pool in record time...world-record time. Kat had never swum that fast or that well in her life, but she chalked it up to adrenaline. She dove under water to grab at her sister's hand as Kaylie sank towards the bottom. Kaylie grasped at her sister's wrist, raking her nails down it in her desperation. Kat latched onto Kaylie's flailing hands and pulled her up to the surface. The little girl clung to her sister in a death grip, nails embedded into her back and face buried in her neck. The little girl's caramel curls were plastered to her head, her green eyes wide, and her body shivered from residual fear and shock. Kat scissor kicked to the edge of the pool and handed Kaylie up to her mother, who had been waiting nervously during the rescue. Pulling herself out of the water, Kat went to examine her wounds, sure that she must be bleeding quite profusely from where Kaylie had dug her talons. *I'm gonna have to clip that child's nails when we got home,* Kat thought with a grimace. Surprisingly, the gashes in her arms and back had already faded into almost nothing. *That's weird,* Kat thought, *they were pretty bad a minute ago. Ah well, all the better.* Kat stood up and accepted the towel her cousin offered her with a smile before going to change out of her wet clothes.

As she changed, through the thin cabana walls, she could hear the roar of her brother's Jeep Grand Cherokee as he pulled into the parking lot. Michael was always late to everything; the family was pretty much used to it by now. Michael took after the Vanderbilt side of the family; like Peter, he was tall, dark and handsome, and extremely well-built. Michael, who attended medical school at Stanford, was the star and senior captain of the university's soccer and water polo teams. Women loved Michael; they swarmed to him like flies to honey. However, Michael's heart was saved for one girl and one girl only: Melanie DeLac, his high school sweetheart and girlfriend of almost six years.

Kat stepped out of the cabana, now dry and wearing a clean halter top and shorts.

"Hey Alleycat, just who I wanted to see!" Michael called out upon seeing her. Alleycat had been his childhood nickname for her, and he still called her that to annoy her.

"Yes, oh cerebrally challenged one?" Kat and Michael loved to tease each other; he called her alleycat and ugly, she called him stupid and developmentally challenged. It was just a big game, a constant battle to one-up each other in the insult department. It was the highlight of Michael's visit--the battle of wits. *Too bad he always loses,* Kat thought with a smirk.

"I have great news, your Royal Aesthetically Unpleasingness."

"And what might this be, Prince Paramecium?"

"I proposed to Melanie last night and..."

"Like any other smart girl, she said no?"

"Very funny, buttmunch, I..."

"Ooh, buttmunch, now there's an original. How long did it take you to come up with that masterful piece of wit?"

"Would you just shut up already? I'm trying to tell you something!" Michael looked about ready to either strangle her or explode, whichever happened first.

"My lips are sealed."

"Good. Now what I was trying to say was that Melanie and I are engaged! I'm getting married, Alleycat!"

"Oh my God!" Kat screamed, and launched herself into her brother's arms. "Congratulations! Where's Melanie? Is she here?" Over the years, Melanie had become like a big sister to Kat. It was Melanie who had taught her how to put on make-up and flirt; it was Melanie who had taken Kat shopping when Korinne and Peter had been out of town or otherwise engaged. She couldn't imagine of a better person for Michael to marry than Melanie. With her blond waves and green eyes, Melanie was the perfect contrast to Michael's dark good looks. Kat knew that they would have the most beautiful children.

"Kat!" Melanie cried, getting out of the jeep. Melanie gathered the younger girl into a big hug until Michael pulled the two apart.

"Hey!" he said. "Knock that off...no getting mushy now. You can have girls' night when you get home. Right now it's time to go and get some of Grandpa Vanderbilt's world-famous burgers."

. . .

"Wow," Buffy interrupted. You had, like, the perfect life, huh?"

" I guess you could say so. I never realized it though; I just took it for granted. And I thought I told you not to interrupt!"

"Oops, sorry."

"One more interruption and the deal's off, got it?" Kat's eyes were doing that blazing thing again. Whereas Buffy's hazel eyes turned icy cold when she was pissed, Kat's came to life, blazing with blue-green fire, burning holes straight through you. Buffy found herself flinching under Kat's unnerving stare.

"I am quiet girl," Buffy replied. "You won't hear another peep out of me, no sir....." Buffy trailed off as Kat's eyes flashed in warning.

"Are you finished being 'quiet' yet?" Kat quipped sarcastically.

Buffy responded with a nod of her head.

"Good. Now where was I?"

. . .

"We're going to head back now, Kat," Korinne said at about seven in the evening. "Michael and Melanie are leaving, too. Are you coming?"

"Nah. I'm gonna stay another half- hour or so and help clean up, if that's okay. I'll see if I can get a ride home from Grandpa." Kat's own car, a black '98 Mustang convertible, was in the shop after the catering service from their last party had backed into it.

"Well, if you're going to stay, then you might as well just take the Jaguar home. Your father, Kaylie, and I will bum a ride off Michael."

"Are you sure, Mom? I know how much you love the Jag!"

"Your father and I trust you Katrine; we know that you would never do anything foolish." Korinne's smile was warm, but her eyes held a gentle warning in them. *Scratch the car and die!* Kat thought.

"Thanks a million, Mom! You know how much I just love driving with Gramps and listening to him go on and on about the good old days before all this new-fangled technology came and ruined everything."

Korinne stifled a laugh, dropped the keys in Kat's hand, and kissed her daughter on the cheek. Waving, she went off in search of the rest of her brood.

. . .

"That was the last time I ever saw her alive," Kat said, as the picture of her mother waving to her one last time faded from her mind.

"Alive? What?! Oh my God!" Buffy gasped. She was immediately silenced by a single glare from Kat's fiery eyes.

"I finished cleaning up, said my goodbyes, and walked over to the Jaguar...."

. . .

Kat waved goodbye to her relatives and headed towards the parking lot where the Jag was. The lot was shaded by trees, making the dusky area even darker. As Kat walked by a large dumpster half-hidden by trees, she began to feel a strange tingling sensation spread through her body. It was like no other sensation she had ever felt before; not fear, not nervousness, not anxiety...it was more like adrenaline or something. It felt like her entire body was coming alive on her without her telling it to, preparing her for something. Exactly what that something was, Kat had no idea.

She quickly found out when a well-placed kick to the head knocked her to the ground. As she regained her senses, her hand fumbled around on the ground next to the dumpster, looking for some sort of weapon. Her hand connected with something solid and her fingers closed around a jagged piece of wood. Quickly jumping to her feet, Kat brandished the wood in front of her, hoping to scare off her attacker. Much to her surprise, there was no one to be seen, but that pesky tingling feeling was still there, warning her otherwise. Kat felt a hand grab her shoulder and she whipped around to face the ugliest, most hideously deformed man she had ever seen in her seventeen years. His unsightly appearance caused Kat to step back a few paces, a hesitation that her attacker took advantage of. He lashed out with another kick, but Kat snapped out of her shock just in time. Grabbing his leg, she thrust it backwards, upsetting his balance. He fell to the ground and scrambled back a bit, trying to avoid the pointy tip of Kat's weapon.

Kat knew she should get the hell out of there, that she should run to her car and not look back, but somehow she couldn't. Her body wouldn't let her. It seemed to know something she didn't.

The man got to his feet and, arms extended, charged at Kat. On pure instinct, she held the piece of wood up in front of her, and before she knew what happened, her attacker had impaled himself on the wood and turned to dust. Dust. Kat shrieked and stepped back. Clearly something was wrong with this picture. Men do not just turn into dust on a regular basis. Something was not right with that guy, seriously not right. The thoughts raced through Kat's head as she ran to the car, got in, and locked the doors. It wasn't until she started the engine that she noticed the absence of that odd tingly feeling. Come to think about it, it had disappeared right after that man...that creature...had turned to dust. It was now replaced by an oddly confident feeling, a sense of satisfaction. Frustrated and feeling that there was something she ought to know, Kat peeled out of the parking lot and headed home.

As Kat stepped out of the car onto the hard asphalt of the driveway, that tingling started up again. Trying to shake it off, Kat walked over to the side entrance of the east wing of the mansion. To her surprise, the door was slightly ajar, and upon pushing the door further open, Kat froze in her tracks. The sight that greeted her was one she would never forget. Two more deformed men and an equally deformed woman stood in her kitchen amidst a giant pool of blood. Her mother and father's lifeless bodies lay on the floor at their feet, and Kaylie, unconscious, dangled from the woman's hands. Without even thinking, Kat launched herself at the woman, kicking her in the head and causing her to release Kaylie. The two men immediately attacked Kat, but with a few well-placed kicks and punches, they were soon in no condition to fight. Kat stepped over the unconscious men and cradled Kaylie in her arms, kneeling on the bloody tile floor.

"Kaylie, sweetie, can you hear me? It's me, Kat. Kaylie, Kaylie wake up!" Kat gently shook the little girl, and it was then that she noticed the two deep wounds on her neck. Evenly spaced puncture wounds, they almost looked like...teeth marks? Kaylie's eyes suddenly flew open and she grabbed at Kat's shirt, leaving bloody palm-prints.

"Kat, Kat save me! They bit me, they bit...." Kaylie gasped in pain, and then she was still. Too still. Her lifeless blue eyes stared up into Kat's face, unblinking and unmoving.

Kat clutched the little girl to her chest, and it was then that the woman decided to attack again. The woman kicked Kat in the ribs, sending her backwards into the table leg. Kat gently laid Kaylie under the table, out of the reach of her killer. Standing up, Kat broke the leg off one of the kitchen chairs and before she could think, rammed it into the woman's chest. The woman turned to dust, like the man earlier, leaving Kat alone with the other two, who were starting to come out of it. Still clutching the chair leg, she took her fury and her pain out on them, kicking them and screaming.

"You killed my mother!" KICK! "You killed my father!" KICK. "You killed my sister!" KICK. "You came into my house uninvited, you sons of..."

"Oh, but we were invited," one of the men gasped.

Planting her foot on the other man's throat, Kat bent over the first man, holding her stake inches from his neck. "Who invited you? Who, dammit! I said who?"

"The girl," he choked. "The little girl. We knocked on the door and she let us in!"

*Damn it, Kaylie!* Kat thought. *Why did you have to be so goddam nice to everyone? To scum like this!* Kat rammed her stake into the man's jugular, then into his heart. He, too, turned into a cloud of dust.

"Well, let's see," Kat said to the owner of the throat her foot was on, "Two down, one to go. I imagine you'll turn into dust like the other two?"

"That's what vampires generally do," he choked out.

*Vampires?* Kat couldn't help but be a little skeptical, even after all the day's happenings. Still, what else could explain the phenomena? The man's words had to be true. Trapped underneath her foot was a real, honest to God vampire that drank blood and could be killed by a stake through the heart. And if he was a vampire, then the other three had been vampires, too. She had killed three vampires that day, soon to be four! Funny, she had always thought that vampires were fake, just another horror story created to scare little kids. Now, confronted with one, she had to admit she was rather disappointed in the old tales; they didn't do justice to the hideousness of these creatures of the night.

"Vampires?" she queried, pumping him for information. "Like the Anne Rice novels?"

"Not quite," he gasped.

"But you still die the same way, don't you?"

The vampire's eyes widened. This girl, a girl who had killed two of his kind in the past ten minutes, she must be the legendary slayer! He had always heard that she was blonde, though, and rather tiny. This girl was 5'7'' at least, and definitely not blonde. His thoughts were cut short as Kat rammed the chair leg into his heart.

"Nice doing business with you," she said to the piles of ashes at her feet. She kicked one with her bloody sneaker. "You aren't worthy to be mixed in with my parent's blood.

Her parents. They were dead. Kaylie was dead. All she had left now was....

"Oh my God! Michael! Melanie!" Clutching the stake tightly, Kat made her way through the downstairs floor, searching for her brother and his fiancee. She didn't have to search too far. They were curled up together on the couch in the home theater room. The normally white couch was stained deep red with their blood, and Kat noticed the tell-tale marks on their necks. Suddenly, she felt that tingly feeling again. The vampire behind her never knew what was coming. Kat whipped around and shoved the stake straight into its heart without even a moment of hesitation. The tingles finally subsiding, Kat sank to the floor and wept, the sobs wracking her body until she collapsed in a sprawl of exhaustion and despair.

. . .

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