FIC: Stormchaser (1/?)

["M.L. Tankesly" <Shadowlander1@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title: Stormchaser (1/?)
Author: Shadowlander
Email: Shadowlander1@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx - or- Tankesly@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Rating: PG-17
Pairing: Buffy and Willow
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all associated characters
belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Warner Bros. Television, and
are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: None - aside for the general back story of the whole "Slayer"
thing. Everything else takes place in an alternate universe.
Summary: Vampires aren't the only "Children of the Night" to call
Sunnydale home, and its about time they're reminded of that little fact.

Notes: This story is dedicated to Rodrigo, who inspired two of the
dream sequences and demanded - demanded! - that I post, or else. :)

STORMCHASER (1/?)

The streets were bathed in blood, as the howls of the dying intermixed
with those of an ancient predator long thought to be figments of
terrified imaginations. Mangled bodies , ravaged by tooth and claw,
gave mute testimony to the onslaught of destruction unleashed by a
furious mistress in search of her mate. A mate who had been taken from
her by these "children of man", who seemed to infest the very core of a
world that once trembled at her mere presence. The night had called out
to her to reclaim what was her by birthright, to wipe out the inferior
race that had the audacity to put itself at the top of the food chain,
when they clearly belonged much lower. But no more! The Mistress was
finally free to reclaim her kingdom and the mate that had been taken
from her by the forerunners of the humans who lay littered about like
broken, discarded playthings who had lost their appeal long ago.

Oh how the sounds of terror spoke to the Mistress as she surveyed the
death and destruction around her. Calling to her for more, always more
of the rich screams of the foolish humans, as they were retaught the
lessons of their ancestors. The night did not belong to them, it
belonged to her! It would always belong to her! This was a night of
many lessons as the Mistress reaffirmed her mark on her world and all
those who inhabited it. The blood alone would ensure for the survivors
that this town, this 'Sunnydale', was hers as were they. Insignificant
beings allowed to live at her whim, for her amusement and nothing else.

Still it wasn't enough, the blood, the screams of innocence being sent
to the slaughter wasn't enough! Something was missing, something that
belonged to the Mistress more then anything else, something these humans
were keeping from her. But soon, soon they would learn the magnitude of
their mistake, soon they would learn that they could hide nothing from
her, even if she had to slaughter all of them to prove it. Suddenly the
Mistress looked up from her most recent kill, a dark haired boy lay at
an odd angle at her feet his life's blood flowing through the Mistress
as she searched for her next kill. That scent! She knew it, almost as
well as her own, it had called to her for countless centuries, singing
to her of passion and fury that only it could ignite in the Mistress.
It was the scent of her mate, at long last her mate was here. But
where? The night wind had changed as if to mock her, to deny her of her
mate.

"No!!!!!" She roared to the uncaring heavens, she would not be denied!
This was her world, her time! Nothing would stop her from reclaiming
what was hers! Then she saw it, a figure calmly stepping out of the
surrounding darkness. 'It's her!' The Mistress nearly groaned after so
long, so many centuries of imprisonment, she was here! Her mate had
returned to her, like she promised!

She was just as beautiful, as memorizing as she had always been, and she
was here. 'She's mine," the Mistress swore possessively watching with
eager eyes as the young woman approached. 'Soon, so very soon you will
be at my side once again.' She thought, recalling the hunts of the past
and how her beloved mate looked during the kill; leaning over her prey,
blood dripping from her fangs, as the life force drained away from
whatever creature they had decided to prey upon that particular night.
It was a glorious site her life mate made just after the kill, eyes
still flashing with the intensity of a predator as the blood of her prey
flowed through her veins like quicksilver. It aroused the Mistress just
thinking about it, her mate was like no other when it came to the hunt,
she herself hunted for survival - or to prove a point - but not her
mate. No her beautiful mate hunted for the sheer pleasure of the kill,
the embodiment of grace and beauty found only in a true creature of the
night.

As the young woman stepped close, the Mistress couldn't suppress the
smile that came to her lips. 'She's even more magnificent then before!
And she's mine, only mine!' Holding out her right hand, the Mistress
waits silently for her mate to take it, to reclaim her proper place.

Eyes, one set green the other blue, lock with one another as the young
woman without hesitation places her hand in the Mistress's own bloody
one, retaking her proper place. "I missed you," the Mistress whispers
drawing the young woman to her. "It has been so very long. Do you like
my gifts?" She questions indicating the carnage around them with a
dismissive wave of her left hand. "The dead sing out for you." She
spoke low. "Calling for you to add to their numbers, as only you can."
Her head lowers. "Can you feel them?" With each sentence. "The 'sheep'
that inhabit this place, their blood aches to be drink." Lower. "I can
feel it calling to you." Until lips nearly met. "It longs to run down
your throat igniting the hunger inside of you."

As low growl, half way between longing and pleasure, is the Mistress's
only response as the young woman in her arms is overwhelmed with the
images dancing in her minds eye. "Be with me." Came the low command
before the Mistress claims the lips before her own in a searing kiss
full igniting a fire that has long lay smoldering between the two for
centuries. Suddenly they are pulling at one another's clothing, as they
slowly sink to the blood covered street, the urge to mate, to reclaim
one another over powering the urge to kill. Breaking away for air, two
names cut through the dark night, over shadowing the screams of the
dying...........

"Buffy"................

"Willow".............
********************************************************************

Elsewhere.....

Buffy Summers jolted out of a troubled sleep, in a cold sweat that
clings to her body, heart racing she tries to escape from the nightmare
images running through her mind. Setting straight up in bed, she looks
around her darkened room almost as if to remind herself that she was
indeed safe and all, of whatever it was, was only a nightmare. With a
shaky hand she pushes a damp lock of hair out of her eyes and glances at
the clock. "04:15 A.M." She says to herself more out of a need to hear
something other then the pounding of her own heart at the moment.
Taking deep, calming breaths, she struggles to recall as much of the
nightmare as possible, 'Giles isn't going to believe this,' she thought
ruefully running another hand through her hair before falling back on
the mattress, her mind working. Once her heart is no longer threatening
to pound itself way out of her chest, she drifts back off to less
troubled sleep, one thought making itself known just before she
surrenders to unconsciousness. 'Just who the hell is this Willow
person?'

End Part One.