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Somewhere in Ancient Greece.
"Xena? Xena did you hear that?" Gabrielle sat up abruptly, shaking her companion awake. Xena stirred, then turned to face the bard, a half-smile on her face.
"That's a switch, Gabrielle. Usually you sleep like the de-" began Xena, who suddenly stopped speaking and leapt to her feet, picking up her sword. She moved to the road they had been travelling earlier, stopping in the middle.
"Gabrielle, get behind me! Now!" The small blonde complied, grabbing her staff and moving to a position behind Xena. The noise that had awakened the two women was getting closer, a high-pitched shrieking laughter that seemed to be coming from the road behind them.
"Gabrielle," said Xena in a low voice, "I want you to take cover in those trees over there. Do NOT let yourself be seen, no matter what."
"What is it, Xena?"
"You'll see soon enough. Now GO!" Gabrielle ran as quietly as she could off the road and took cover as directed. She noticed that Xena was backing toward the campfire, putting it between herself and the road, then stoking the flames and placing the end of a large branch into the fire. The warrior princess then resumed her ready stance.
The shrieking had grown to almost deafening proportions by the time Gabrielle saw what was creating the ruckus. A small band of what appeared to be women was running wildly down the road. They stopped at the campfire and looked over at Xena. It was then that Gabrielle saw their glowing yellow eyes and long fangs. "By the gods!" Gabrielle exclaimed under her breath. "Bacchae!"
Before either Gabrielle or the bacchae could react, Xena sprang into action, shifting her sword to her left hand and using her right foot to kick the now flaming branch into the air. She grabbed the branch at the base with her right hand as it descended, and held it between herself and the bacchae, who backed away.
"Now ladies, we don't want any trouble here, do we?" The bacchae hissed in response. "How about you just keep moving, and we'll forget we ever saw each other." Xena shoved the flaming wood toward the nearest bacchai, who flinched, then stopped.
Xena was obviously playing for time. While the bacchae didn't usually kill females, their bite would immediately transform a woman into a bacchai - a soulless creature, existing only to serve Bacchus. They could only be destroyed with the bone of a dryad through the heart. Xena didn't have any dryad bones, and escape from bacchae was never easy. Gabrielle tensed, readying herself to help Xena if necessary. It was then that she noticed something strange about the bacchae -- they weren't all female. From Xena's sudden change in expression, Gabrielle deduced that the warrior princess had discovered this new development as well.
"Ladies--and gentlemen," said Xena, "I believe we have a standoff here. I may not be able to kill you, but I can certainly make you wish I had. So what'll it be?" Xena scuffed her foot at the campfire, sending a shower of coals toward the bacchae, who withdrew. After a moment's hesitation, the group turned and continued down the road, their shrieking quickly building in volume as they gained momentum.
"Xena, did you notice that not all of those bacchae were, well, bacchae in the regular sense?" Gabrielle rejoined her friend, who was busy putting on her armor and preparing Argo for travel. "But why are there any bacchae around? There was only one Bacchus, right? And you killed him, right? Otherwise, we'd still be bacchae ourselves - right? Xena?"
Xena paused in saddling Argo. "Gabrielle, if you mean did I notice that there were male bacchae, yes. And yes, I did kill Bacchus, or else we would still be bacchae ourselves. But Gabrielle, you know being dead isn't necessarily a permanent state around here. And for someone like Bacchus; well, it wouldn't surprise me if Hades simply got tired of dealing with him and released him on his own recognizance. Or maybe one of the other gods interfered, I don't know. All I know is we'd better get to the nearest town and see if anyone there has heard anything - "
A crashing, jangling sound interrupted Xena's train of thought. Gabrielle whirled toward the noise, staff ready, but Xena put a hand on her friend's shoulder, stopping her.
"Hello, Joxer," said Xena, as the disheveled warrior hove into view through the shrubbery.
"Oh, Xena, thank the gods," panted Joxer, "bad news. Very bad. Bacchus is back."
"So we've gathered," said Gabrielle.
"Oh. Yes, but he's different somehow," continued Joxer. "He doesn't care about wine, women and song anymore. His bacchae-- they're both male *AND* female now."
"We know, Joxer" said Gabrielle, "and we're going to try and get to the bottom of this. So unless you've got any dryad bones handy, you might want to just be on your way............."
"But, guys, wait! There's more to it than just a new equality between the sexes. His, um, diet has changed, too."
"What do you mean, Joxer?" asked Gabrielle. "He's the god of wine and revelry. What, he's added champagne to his repertoire?"
Joxer silenced her with a look. "No, Gabby. Blood. He's added human blood. In fact, that seems to be his exclusive diet now. I'm on my way to get Orpheus, if I can find him, and his lyre. We've got to stop him, Xena!"
Xena and Gabrielle exchanged a worried look, then resumed packing the campsite. "Joxer, we're coming with you," stated Xena, "this is too dangerous for one person." Joxer looked relieved as he agreed, and the three started down the road in the direction the bacchae had come from.
* * *
Sunnydale, CA. Present Day.
Buffy yawned. Again. She was getting pretty adept at varying the yawns, depending upon the occult subject she was studying -- polite yawns for the run of the mill hellmouth stuff, medium yawns for the Slayer Manual (yes, there was one, and yes, Giles had beencorrect in not sticking to it), and jaw-cracking, face-splitting yawns for vampiric history. She was adding variations to these last, using humming noises to accompany the facial gymnastics, when Giles interrupted her.
"Uh, Buffy? Yes, well, it seems that you're not too interested in the lesson at hand."
"That's a big 'duh'," replied Buffy, mid-yawn.
"I suppose it would be pointless to remind you of the importance of the subject matter?"
"Giles, the only point I need when it comes to vamps is located at the end of a stake. I mean, I just need to know who the big guys are, so I can stake 'em. This book has more `begats' and sires than the Old Testament. Don't they make a Cliff's Notes version?"
Giles sighed, knowing when to stop. There weren't any major prophecies in the wind, no more vampire activity than usual, nothing to panic about -- aside from Drucilla, Spike, and Angelus, that was -- he'd simply been trying to use the free time wisely, to polish his Slayer and to give her some recovery time from the emotional turmoil she'd been in lately. "Perhaps some more training, then?" Buffy looked pointedly at the clock, which read 5pm, then back at the Watcher. "Oh, yes, it is drawing near to dinner, isn't it? Hmmm, well, perhaps I could finish up looking through the book you were studying, and you could eat and get ready for patrol tonight?"
"You read my mind, Giles," Buffy said, jumping out of her chair. And if you find anything interesting, just, you know, let your fingers do the walking!" The Slayer raced out of the library, leaving a puzzled Watcher pondering more American slang.
"But, Buffy, aren't you the least bit interested in all that history?" Willow Rosenburg sat across from her friend at the kitchen table of her home. They were sharing a pizza, and Buffy was complaining about the intellectual rigors of Slayer life.
"Will, Slayer history is kinda unvaried. Slayers come, Slayers slay, Slayers die. It's not exactly the feel-good occupation of the century."
"But, Buffy, maybe if you studied it, you could sorta avoid their mistakes? Maybe there've been other slayers who actually got to retire? You know, maybe there's like a Club Med for ex-slayers where you hang out on the beach all day, drinking Pina Coladas and watching cute towel boys......."
"Thanks, Will, but we know the deal. I'm the Slayer. I'm only as good as my last kill, and my luck could run out at any time. And lately, my luck hasn't been that great." Buffy sighed, but at her friend's worried look, she continued, "Will, don't worry. I'm not being Prozac poster girl here, just facing reality. Pretty much my full-time job right now." The girls finished their pizza in silence. Neither one needed to name the reality Buffy was facing -- Angelus.
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