This takes place in season two of Buffy and season one of Roswell. These characters don’t belong to me, etc. I’ve taken some liberties with time/ plotlines, but I think you guys can figure it all out. I don’t know how much of the actual shows will appear in this story beyond the basics, but it will all most likely remain cannon except for maybe one relationship. We’ll see. I’ll try to update regularly. Thanks for reading!

Weirdness Multiplied

Prologue: Crash Course

“I need a ride.”

“No.” Maria replied, not even so much as glancing in his direction.

“What do you want?”

She finally turned her attention away from the stack of ketchup bottles. “What do I want?”

“Yeah.”

She just stared at him, a disbelieving look on her face. Finally, she sighed. “Why would I want anything from you?”

He scratched his head, and then it was his turn to sigh. “Look, it’s important, alright.”

“So get Max to give you a ride,” Maria replied, turning her attention back to the bottles.

He collapsed onto a nearby stool. “He doesn’t want me to go.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t then.”

He glared at her, shaking his head. “It’s important.”

Maria wiped her hands on her apron, finally finished filling the bottles. “Alright, I’ll give you a ride, on one condition.”

“Let’s go,” he replied, grabbing her keys off the counter and moving toward the door.

Maria let out a huff of irritation. “I didn’t tell you the condition yet!”

“Doen’t matter,” he said as he walked out the door, “it’s fine.”

She hurried to catch up to him, hoping that Liz would remember to come down and lock up. Jumping in the passenger seat of her car as it began to move, she slammed the door shut.

“Hey, buddy, I drive my car!”

“You don’t know where we’re going.”

“Whatever.”

They sat in silence as they quickly made their way out of town and onto the highway.

“Where ARE we going?” Maria asked, turning on the radio.

He muttered something, and she turned it back off, not sure she heard correctly. “What?”

Michael looked over at her and braced himself for her reaction.

“Sunnydale, California.”

***

Buffy Summers was tired. And not just the usual ‘stayed up all night researching the new baddie’ tired. More like ‘fought fifty vampires while studying for a math test’ tired. She took a deep breath and looked around. The cemetery was silent, except for the grass crunching under her boots. She stopped and listened for something. Anything. The Master’s second coming would be preferable to this boredom. She shuddered, gripping her stake tighter for a moment. That was a lie. The Master wasn’t preferable to anything.

She rolled her eyes and put her stake back in her pocket.

This was ridiculous. Nothing was out tonight. Not one vampire. The patrol had brought up zilch, which, while not totally unbelievable, was pretty rare and really annoying, considering she could be at home sleeping, or, more likely, out at the Bronze dancing and talking about the enigma that was Angel with her friends.

She turned and headed toward the entrance gates. She was so lost in thoughts of Angel that she didn’t notice she wasn’t alone anymore at first. After a few seconds, she heard a rustling sound from a few feet away, her spidey sense going into overdrive.

As she neared a large group of bushes, the rustling sound stopped. The cemetery was silent again.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice not quite as strong as she would have liked.

She slowly grabbed the bush nearest to her and pulled the branches back. Peering into the darkness, she could just make out a shape on the ground. As she realized what she was looking at, she put the stake that she had pulled out on instinct back in her pocket. She made her way around the bushes, sighing as she looked down at the body on the ground. Just one more person she couldn’t save. She squatted down and examined it, noticing that there appeared to be no bite marks, or any blood that she could see. In fact, the person looked almost asleep, no sign of what killed him anywhere on his body.

She stood up, looking around, wishing that she had brought someone with her on this patrol. Finally, she turned back toward the gates, heading off for Giles, and what promised to be another long night of research.

She didn’t turn back long enough to notice the glow emanating from the corpse’s chest in the shape of a handprint.

***