Willow

A pick-up truck haunted the empty streets of Sunnydale that night. Not even vampires dared prowl the streets after the exodus. The only thing that did dare was Willow, looking for any last threats to fight before the final one tommorow.

The car crept upon her silently; she didn't even hear it as it swooped out in front of her and stopped, blocking her path.

Buffy emerged from the passenger's side; Caleb from the other.

"Buffy?!" said Willow in disbelief. "Preacher Guy?!"

"Caleb," he clarified in a dark southern drawl.

Willow took a step back, trying to prepare a spell in the back of her mind to counter what ever they planned to do to her. Caleb and Buffy stepped forth in synchronized steps; Buffy seeming to enjoy it even more than Caleb.

"My woman's here been telling me you don't much care for men," said Caleb, each word a self-contained sermon with fire, with passion, with hatred.

"And don't much care for crazy southern preachers, either!" snapped back Willow.

"Girl, don't you know the order of things? 'Thou shalt not lie with woman like thou lie with a man'."

Willow stopped dead cold as Buffy and Caleb approached her. "Don't fight it, Willow. It's marvelous," said Buffy.

"Dirty, dirty girl..." smiled Caleb as he ran his fingers against her cheek.