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Buffy watched Andrew and his drink.
She was on her 4th shot.
It wasn't yet 7pm.
"Riley left a message, 'ndrew. Was a good meshage. Hish wife is still 'round. Good."
She looked at the shot, the amber liquid just so pretty. Shame to drink it and get rid of it... but.... there's more!
She picked it up, a bit of whiskey sloshing over the rim of the clear shot glass, and tossed it back, grimacing as it burned it's way down her throat.
"So, 'drew, got a girl....boy.... girl friendly friend?"

Buffy paused, about to pour another shot. Just hearing the name Faith was enough to make her sober up a notch or two. She really seriously hated Faith.
Wow.. where'd that come from, she thought, then handed the shot to Andrew and moved out from behind the bar, walking across the room and flopping face down on the sofa.
"Mphhbldmphmh. Ehmphm, pmm ermmph mmmmfehmm."

Willow smiled and sidles up to Dawn, close enough to smell her hair. Pretty.
"Huh? What'd you wanna know Dawnie?" She twirled a lock of her long red hair between the first two fingers of her right hand and tilted her head.

Dawn quickly said the words that would reverse the love potion as she wanted the interest to be honest. The potion was like an honesty potion as it said what people felt for each other. 'I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drink with me?" she asked her with a cheeky smile.

The burning sensation finally disperses from her body and her mind. Kennedy can feel something calling to her. But from where? She can feel herself sleeping in one of those asleep but aware states of mind. Her hand feels the warmth of another. Willow, Kennedy thought.

Kennedy uses all of the strength she can conjure to move her hand. All that struggle, all that force, all that effort only results in a twitch of her pinky finger. Would that have been enough?

"I said-" she spit out as she turned her head to the side and blew her hair out of her mouth, "that I....What?"
She sat up, looking at the T.V. and remembering the last time she was drunk was with Spike.
"We need Shpike back here. He can help out, you know. He'sh good with that. And..."
She turned to look at Andrew.
"I think that it'sh a goooood thin' that yer gonna be a Washer. Then you can help too. Cuz I think Kennedy'sh gonna die."

Night was falling. A corpse, six feet under ground in a solid oak coffin, peaceful, suddenly opened its yellow eyes, its features contorting to that of a horrible monster. How did they know when it was time to awake, under all of that above them? It was hard to say. The awakened corpse, that of an old woman, got a look at their surroundings. What had once been her son clearly had not skimped on the funeral. Her resting place was comfortable, her dress new and clean. She had her diamond engagement ring on. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like they had cleaned it. How nice. She would have to make sure their deaths were painless. More or less.

The diamond, that big hunk of rock, served as a useful tool for breaking through the wooden walls. She was engulfed in dirt. She didn't have to breathe, but it was all in her nose and her mouth and felt weird. Finally, she broke the service. The graveyard was nice. There was a beautiful tree planted just behind her tombstone, the grass was rich, all very classy. She was a bit peckish though. She took off the ring that had helped her escape, a vile reminder of her humanity, and placed it in her pocket. The young old vampire hefted herself out of the grave and took a step forward before very momentarily feeling a sharp pain from behind, then turning to dust.

Xoey dropped down from her perch on the tree, bow in hand. She wandered over to the pool of dust and scattered it with her hands, finding a diamond ring. Jackpot. She examined it, but she wouldn't be able to tell if it was real or not no matter how long she looked. The ring was stuffed into a pocket in her leather pants, and she smiled. Rare that something was left behind as a gift for her, but it didn't need to happen often to keep feeding her. The night had barely began and she was already in high spirits. There hadn't been any other mysterious neck wounds resulting in fatalaties buried that day, so she was free to hunt. It was always more interesting than waiting.