Archive of Our Own

Rory wasn’t mad.

She really wasn’t. Honestly. Her friends, of course, just to get under her skin, kept trying to say she was. Lane grins and says with the amount of times I’ve seen you glare at the back of her head, I’m shocked it hasn’t burst into flames and then that just eggs Jess on to say, you know we do just have those piles of stakes lying around – she may not vaporize but they can definitely cause bodily harm!

And she of course brushes them all off with hilarious you guys, but I’m fine! She’s just been...thrown. A little jostled. After all, how would you feel if another girl just waltzes in and says she’s the new Slayer? Here you are, dubbed the Official Slayer after that creepily stoic guy in a suit found you outside Luke’s after your sixteenth birthday while you waited on your mom and said you were the One, graced with the unfortunate duty of protecting the world from vampires and other evils – and now someone else was here to share the platform with you?

Paris has been here a little over a week now, and Rory can honestly say she preferred it before. She and her friends, including her Watcher Max Medina, had been handling the scene here with the Hellmouth just fine – except, maybe, for her briefly dying. She still has the memory of when Paris found out, raising a sharp and not-impressed eyebrow to her with ‘you died?..’ to which Rory very wittily replied ‘just a little bit!’. But that’s the thing about this girl – she thinks she’s the slaying expert!

Right now, Rory was watching her lament to a furrowing Medina about the potential spots she thinks in this town had cursed or were honing zones for evil energy, all but shoving the goddamn notes she’d made in his face. It’s like the whole thing was a competition, and she was out to get the top Slaying prize. Granted, Paris didn’t seem any more pleased upon arriving and finding out there too was another Slayer, saying in a voice that altogether skipped snippy and went right into mad, ‘well no one one the Watcher’s Committee cared to tell me this when they shipped me off here!’ Once Rory had gotten over her surprise though, she tried to warm up to Paris – this didn’t have to be a bad thing after all. They could be friends, and maybe even do trade-offs for patrols so that instead of sitting around a wet and dark cemetery, Rory could again start spending nights watching movies with her mom who’s already getting suspicious of why suddenly Rory can no longer spend time with her.

But Paris refused! She all but snubbed Rory, saying she was not here to make friends and that they had their duties to think of. Yeah, I’m sure slaying vamps is what she’s really concerned with, Rory thinks to herself, by showing up to Medina’s lessons twenty minutes early. Not only is she aiming for extra slayer points, but in the little time she’s been attending Chilton she’s also gotten the top mark in nearly every class – right next to Rory’s high percentage. She normally wouldn’t care about that kinda stuff (not anymore, now that her dreams of Harvard had been dashed…), but Paris seemed to be making a deliberate point of surpassing her.

She wasn’t inherently competitive. It wasn’t in her nature.

At least, up until Paris had come and tried to sweep both her titles from under her feet.

Really, honestly, who does she think she is? Rory would never say she’d been doing a perfect job, but she was still doing good and definitely giving her all! And this girl really thinks she can do better? Rory can’t help but partly wonder if this was some kind of sham, if the Watcher Committee had straight up decided she was doing a bad job and called another Slayer. Which would be so easy for them to do; honestly, all they do is sit around debating evil lore but do they actually get off their butts and do anything? No! Instead they throw her into dangers and then denounce her efforts by bringing in another Slayer who’s already three inches shorter then her –

“You broke your pencil.”

Rory blinks back. Her head comes up from her binder of notes, finding Lane staring back at her from the other side of the desk.

“What?..” She said and when Lane simply pointed at the paper in her lap, Rory followed – finding, in fact, her yellow number two pencil having cracked and crumbled right in the middle, shedding lead pieces onto her fingers.

Rory’s whole body slumped. Then she sighed. Damn Slayer strength..

“You looked like you hadn’t noticed.” Lane said, offering a smile and another new pencil to Rory, who gratefully took both and ignored the smirk Jess was wearing.

“Thanks..” She exhaled “At least I’m past the stage of accidentally ripping cupboard doors off and managing to convince mom all the hinges had somehow been screwed loose. I still think part of her believes it was a ghost.”

“That’s nothing compared to last Saturday.” Jess brought up, grinning towards Lane “There was a delivery of new silverware to the restaurant and they’d messed it up by bringing double, so when trying to bring it in, our dear Slayer here decided to help by picking up a whole box of metalware by herself as if it were a dainty flower. I then had to explain to my uncle that the school had been doubling down on weightlifting for the girls P.E.”

“I only wanted to help!” Rory explained, this time ignoring Lane who’s trying to hold down her giggles.

“Hey, if you wanna help you can tell Luke that I was not being a peeping Tom on the girl’s gym class after he was convinced that’s how I knew that.”

Now it was Rory who couldn’t hold in her laughter, just imagining a concerned Luke giving his best stern look towards his potentially perving nephew and knowing it would not stand as long as Jess was under his roof. Lane rose a brow at him.

“And you said?..”

“I told him I wasn’t trying to get mislead by temptation so I could stay on the path of chastity.” Jess explained, turning over his notebook page to make more doodles along the margin “At least not until they change out the gym shorts for skirts too..”

Rory went back to eyerolling, but bit into her grin as she watched Lane throw an eraser at him. Through this whole thing, she’s been glad to have had her friends; not just at home, but here in school too, where Lane scored a spot based on her good grades and Jess landed a scholarship after months and months of Rory pestering him to apply. After a little bit of applying himself via her encouragement, he proved to be just as smart as she knew he was.

“Why don’t we get back to Killer here, who I’m sure iswrought over Blondie who’s currently wringing Medina’s ear.”

“I told you guys, I’m not –”

“–mad, we know.” Lane answered, a knowing smile that totally gave away her disbelief in her best friend “And is that why you have a broken pencil?”

“I – I just, I’m fine, it’s more..I don’t know why she’s being like this..”

“Because you wanna pair-up and she thinks she’s too good of a Slayer to?” Jess offered.

“This isn’t helping you know.”

“Look, if this girl really wants to stake a challenge, I say you give her a fight.” Lane said, shuffling in closer with a hushed voice “It’s not like we’ve really enjoyed watching her brownnose with Medina and soil your good name – and our help too!”

“Yeah Gilmore, do it for your friends! Best Slayer still standing wins.”

“Is this because she called your guys my lackies?” Rory grins

“Hey, the Slayerettes is a proud title to gleam.” Jess defended, Rory sniggering at the nickname they’ve appropriated after they too, got roped into aiding on patrols “It’s mostly because it’s distracting to have her constantly waking around while the accompanying Jaws theme plays as we’re trying to work.”

“Rory?”

All three bodies stopped chuckling and pivoted to Medina at his desk, smiling politely if not somewhat thinly and Paris beside him, glowering at the group. Rory felt a tinge of guilt hit her throat, hoping Paris hadn’t heard in – she honestly doesn’t mean any ill will.

“Care to join us?”

Rory nodded, sliding off her desk and ignoring Jess’s ‘ watch out, I think she bites.’ in her ear. She walked up, pretending not to pay attention to the sharp look Paris was eyeing her with.

“What’s up?”

“Ms. Geller and I have just been discussing some extra activity that’s been happening around town..”

“I’m assuming we’re talking the vampuric kind, and not just the follow-out from the college kids returning for spring break.”

“He’s talking about what I’ve been reporting.” Paris broke in, folded arms and chin jutted to Rory “Higher reports of vampires, in more groups then just the loners. You haven’t seen them.”

Rory furrowed back at her “You don’t know what I’ve been seeing..”

“I know you haven’t because I’m the one doing the extra patrols.”

“Well you said they’re vampires so I think I can wrap my head around what –”

“Ladies,” Medina broke in before the controlled snips got out of control, giving another trying smile “if you don’t mind – what I’m getting at, is that by Paris’s accounts and from what I’m reading, we should be expecting rises in, well, the dead. Which is why I think that for tonight, you two should patrol together at Glenhaven’s cemetery in town.”

“What?!”

That got all heads to snap to them – even the two girls, spinning to each other to give mutual looks of confusion over their synchronicity. A couple of seconds of awkward silence, and then Paris throws her hardly constrained anger at Medina.

“That’s ridiculous! I’ve been handing the extra bodies just fine on my own patrols!”

“Yeah, and Paris doesn’t even know Glenhaven’s like that – I can do the patrol on my own like I’ve already been doing!”

“And what’s the point of doing it together – we can cover far more ground if we’re apart! That’s just poor planning!”

“Both very convincing arguments. But ones I sadly can’t count – as far as I understand, according to my readings, we’re going to experience a heightened surge of vampires in that area tonight. So I think you both can get why I’d prefer you together.”

“But –”

“I –”

“Ladies I really don’t want to pull out the ‘Watcher-tone’, nor pull the ‘what if it’s too much for one slayer and some poor innocent got made into a vampire smoothie and sooner then later the Hellmouth is spilling all over this town’ card either, so please don’t make me.”

That got them to quiet. Neither girl was really going to object to potential overdrive of evils, instead left to fold their arms and stare at the floor.

“...You sure do love the guilt card though.” Rory muttered.

“Knew you’d both understand.” He grinned.

“..Fine.” Paris spoke sharply, eyes cutting to Rory “We’ll meet at Glenhaven. Seven.”

She stalked off before Rory was even allowed an input. Well that settles that then. Rory sighed, packing up her idea of a quiet patrol where she can sit around the mausoleum and try to catch some reading by her flashlight, and instead saddling up with Paris who’s probably going to make them do drill laps in between the vamps. Muttering under her breath, Rory turned to walk back but was pulled in by the hand on her elbow.

“Rory,” Medina was near whispering, causing her to lean in “..I know this isn’t exactly in the job description, but, I’m hoping that with spending some more one-on-one time with Paris, you can kind of..warm her into the group so to speak..”

“..Well not to crush your dreams, but I don’t see that really happening..”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve already tried that.” Rory explained, trying not to let her frustration show “I’ve done the buddy-buddying, I’ve tried to lend her both my textbooks and my notes on where the likeliest spots are in town to expect a vampire attack, suggested to cover each other’s patrols – I’ve done it all but she’s very adamant in keeping her icy walls up.”

“Well then maybe this is the night you finally melt right through.”

“What do you want me to do?! At this rate, I think the thing she wants most from me isn’t any bonding but to take my Slayer crown off so she can be claimed the one true ruler!”

Rory was now biting through her teeth and her face had gone a little red, but to her surprise, Medina just chuckled. More to himself then anything, shaking his head a little. Rory felt guilt creep into her throat again.

“..Look, I’m sorry, but I just don’t –”

“No, I know.” Medina said, surprising her “I mean, we’re all in an odd predicament here. There’s never really been an instance of two Slayers at once; it’s a foreign idea.”

“Ever?”

He shook his head “Not that we’ve ever known. And perhaps that’s why…adjusting, has been so difficult. Slaying is a solo position. Maybe you two aren’t suppose to exist together.”

Well, it certainly feels a bit like that. Rory didn’t say anything as Medina seemed to just be talking out his thoughts, but felt unable to leave the thought alone. Was that really true? Was one of them going to have to step down?

She couldn’t deny it, it was an attractive idea. Going back to being a normal teenager; back to school work and t.v lounging with her mom, with her only worry being getting the right grade point for Harvard. No more freezing graveyard watches. No more bruises and scrapes from fighting. No more fearing for her life. And instead, Paris could just pick up the rest of the work.

Yet, it was still an idea Rory couldn’t hop on board of yet. There was an invisible wall there she couldn’t read, keeping her from surrendering her title (especially to Paris).

“But perhaps there’s something to that too.” Medina speaks up, seeming to mull before glancing back with a look she couldn’t place “Because, you know, while friends are all well and good, and it’s good you have them, at the end of the day, only another slayer is going to know what you’re going through. Whether you two like it or not, you’re the only people in the world who can understand each other..”

Rory quiets at that, suddenly feeling small. She didn’t have a reply; how do you even reply to something like that? She stalls, under the quiet of the room, wishing she could have something to rebuttal. She opened her mouth –

Only to have the bell cut her off. So rather, she sighed and let her shoulders deflate.

“Well, have a good patrol tonight; let me know what you find.” Medina smiled as he shuffled his papers to collect them, sliding back into his desk “And don’t forget, I look forward to reading that A grade essay on Macbeth too!”

Oh right. That too. Rory sighed again, walking off from the desk. Her friends were already waiting for her, Lane holding out the bright yellow bag to her.

“Late night shift tonight?”

“Yeah, and I get to find time to write my essay and do test prep too – all in a day’s work I guess..”

“You want us to come play backup? I think if I tell my mom Bible club is just running a little late because we’re really working hard on the readings, she’ll let it slide.”

“Thanks, but with another covering tonight, I should be good..” Rory said, eyes briefly shifting to the head of blonde hair nearby before moving back “We’ll get the vamps, and then I’ll find some time to look at my school work, somewhere..”

Jess leaned in “Look, I’ve said before I’m not opposed to sliding my test paper under the desk to yours.”

“Thanks, but I’m trying to pass my classes.”

“Ooh!” Jess waged an eyebrow, smirk growing “Good job Gilmore; at least that moves you up from elementary insults to middle school ones.”

Rory smiled back, head ducking down a little. Of course they both knew she didn’t mean it; she’d been the thorn in his side after all, to apply himself more and get the grades she fully knows he’s capable of. This time she didn’t berate though, watching him smile back at her and seeming to take a second before saying,

“..I’ll see you back in town. Both you ladies.” He made a departing nod, backing up to the door.

“And if Luke asks at all where I am –”

“Hey, I know the drill! Tell him you’re drinkin’ by the quarry!”

She rolled her eyes but it was too late, grinning as he went out and leaving her to beam back. He’d joke about it all he wanted, but Rory knew, that if Luke did actually did ask about her, Jess would cover for her no matter what. He was multi-layered like that; had to shield that heart she’d seen more then once.

It was then, Rory saw something flicker in the corner of her gaze. Paris was near the door frame , eyeing Rory closely after having watched the whole interaction. Rory caught the browns for a second and then Paris quickly flicked them away, marching out the door. If she didn’t know any better, Rory would think she was almost embarrassed at having been caught.

“Math?”

Rory spun back over to an inquiring Lane. She shook off her quiet curiosity to smile back, pulling the yellow bag up her shoulder.

“If we must.”

-

One of the worst things about patrols was waiting.

Frankly, Rory could rattle off a number of things that amount to the drudgery of patrols, but she especially hated waiting. Right now it was only five o’clock, and she was sitting at the kitchen table trying to concentrate on her science packet. But the only thing that was circling in her brain, was how she was going to find a way out to be at the cemetery at seven.

And how she going to figure out patrolling with Paris.

Footsteps, coming up from behind her chair, broke into the quiet. A second after she watched the phone carefully land next to her.

“Pizza will be here in ten.” Her mother announced, a hand to the back of her chair and leaning down into her work “..Hey, do you know what night it is?”

Rory didn’t follow, squinting up at her “...Friday night?”

“Right, that’s what I thought – I just wasn’t completely sure it was Friday night by the fact that you’re doing homework.”

Rory inwardly sighed, trying to hide her own grin from her mom’s.

“Good one.” She drawled as Lorelai plopped into a chair next to hers “I feel real scathed.”

“You should! Especially since you’ve been leaving me dry – but no matter, because guess what?” The older woman was practically bursting, grinning as she leaned forward “I happened across an all night run they’re doing of 80’s rom-coms, and I even made sure we had extra popcorn so we could throw it at the screen during the kiss scenes.”

The guilt was like getting hit by a bullet – or even worse, a mallet. Rory did her best not to let it show but she’d always been a trademarked horrible liar. So the faux excitement really just ends up coming out as a somewhat nervous expression and a stilted ‘oh!..’ Immediately, she saw her mother’s face drop.

“Oh no.”

“What?..”

“You’ve got that face.”

“What face?”

“That one!”

“I don’t have any face!”

“Yes you do – it’s the guilty how do I tell mom I can’t bingewatch movies because I have a prior school engagement.”

“I’m sorry!” Rory blurted, feeling even worse as Lorelai began to pout “I really didn’t want to do it, honest! It wasn’t even my idea to do a study session tonight!”

“..Alright, I believe you,” She admitted, making Rory relax just in the slightest “and while I still wanna remain supportive of the school stuff kid, I just..you do enough study nights, and soon you’re going to be sleep-monologing textbook passages and growing q-cards out your nose. You need a break at some point.”

“Trust me, I’ve kinda been starting to say the same thing..” Rory sighed, glancing back at the last couple questions on chemical bonds. A movie marathon was a perfect night in, but honestly, she’d love to even be doing her quiet making-study-notes-by-deskside-lamplight she used to have the pleasure of doing all the time.

“Then you should do so! And also, a study session tonight? Why this late? Wouldn’t it be better to just do it tomorrow?”

“Right, well, I-I think it’s about just getting it all in as soon as possible, taking advantage of every spare second; the top colleges don’t sleep, so neither should we I guess.” Rory quickly explained “Plus, it wasn’t my idea to do it now as it was Chilton’s new favourite top GP student..”

“She-who-shall-not-be-named?”

Rory snorted, and then immediately felt guilty at referring to her like that – even Paris didn’t deserve that.

“Yeah. She’s the one who decided on seven tonight at the library, sharp, apparently. So if you think I’m leaving you to have any kind of fun, the glares and threats I’ll receive tonight will surely prove otherwise..”

“Still not making any lee-way huh?”

Rory huffed, falling back into her chair. She’s been very careful about what she’s told her mom about Paris. She hasn’t said a lot. Just the basics; new student, could put my grades to shame, seems to be out for my livelihood, hates me without reason. Not the whole truth but not anything that wasn’t a lie persay.

“I just..I don’t know! I’ve tried everything!” Rory lamented “And now our English teacher, Medina, has put us on this new project where I think he thinks we’re gunna reach common ground but that doesn’t seem to be on Paris’s agenda. It looks like I’m gunna be forever in the bad books, and I dunno how to remedy that.”

“..Have you considered any kinds of poison to slip into her lunch?”

“What happened to wanting to see me actually graduate?”

“Hey, they offer high school programs in juvy! You’ll finish it in half the time!” Her mom, of course, continued to grin as Rory dropped her head back, but a second after she watched her smile slip into something more supportive “But in all seriousness kid, it looks like you two are stuck together in this whether you like it or not. And you’re going to be stuck with each other, unless she randomly decided to uproot and move schools but we can’t rely on that chance, for the rest of your educated lives, so it doesn’t hurt to try one more attempt at common ground.”

“But how?”

“You’ll figure it out! The kid is clearly, and I say this with love, a brownnoser like yourself so there’s already some commonality there, and maybe there’s more in all your books and stuff. You’ll find something, or at least you’ll wear her down.” Lorelai reasoned relatively good advice “..You know, new kid on the block, she’s probably missing some key factors like friends. And like I said, same school, same class, same age – you two probably more on the same side then opposite. And if you keep trying the nice card, maybe Paris might see that too.”

Rory mulled on that, brow bunching and unbunching. It was kind of frustrating how every adult wanted to keep encouraging making nice with Paris when she has shot down every turn. But maybe there was something to it, now that she was hearing it a second time. Maybe she did just have to whittle Paris down a little more.

She felt herself randomly start to go mushy, staring back at her mom with a pang over her heart. She missed telling her things. Sometimes, it was crazy to her that she hasn’t actually told her mom, the person she loves the most in the world who holds every secret, the most insane one that’s uprooted her whole life – that she’s some all-saviour of the world who protects it from undead evils. She wonders if she would even believe it.

There’ve been times she’s almost; the times she’s come home so beaten up from patrols and had to spend extra time in the bathroom to cover up her bruises, when she’s been so scared all she wanted in the world was run back home to her. Even all those moments she’s had to lie to cover up Slayer lessons with afterschool clubs that’ve bogged her down in guilt. She’s come near tears for every day this secret creates a bigger divide between her and her best friend. She’s even tried to argue Medina on it, done her best to come up with every positive for telling her only to get nowhere. He spouts some stuff about sacrecy and for the safety of the world and other stuff Rory was tired of hearing – but mostly, he’s said how telling would only increase the risk to her mother’s life. Not that Rory doesn’t want to keep the world safe, but that was moreso was what kept her biting down her tongue every time she felt like the heavy burden was about to fall off her lips.

So instead, right now, she just swallows down the sadness and smiles back.

“..Since when did you start giving sage advice?”

“Hey, I am a woman of many talents and high intelligence.”

A brisk knock came from the door.

“Oh! Pizza!”

Lorelai sprung from her chair so fast it nearly toppled. She grasped both of Rory’s cheeks with her hands, placed a wet kiss on top of her head, and then rushed off. Rory simply shook her head, chuckling quietly. After, she closed up her textbook and slipped her sheets away into her binder.

Time to at least spend a marginal amount of time together while she had it.

-

She’s late.

Because of course her mom wanted to stop and get some snacks first, determined that she wouldn’t be able to make it through this marathon all on her lonesome without some fuel. And while Rory was eager to get going, she knew getting through a whole night of patrol with Paris might help with the aid of snacks.

So here she was, trying to keep the rattling package of M&Ms safe in her pocket and running through the dark with her satchel strapped to her shoulder. Her mom had dropped her off in front of the library, which the cemetery was right around the corner from. It was your regular, creepy cemetery; roughly a couple blocks wide, full of rows of grey headstones and one mausoleum which was suppose to have been the resting place of the guy who built the town some hundred years ago. She’s yet to see inside the cracked and cobweb covered building though, something she’s not dying to change.

Paris was already there, of course. Standing atop the hill that was near the rusted black gate opening, that brown leather jacket and arms folded. Rory took a deep breath of crisp night air in before approaching, trying to remember her mom’s words and walked up the paved path.

“Well finally, there you are.” was the first thing Paris says after turning to the approaching footsteps “I was wondering how I made ‘seven, sharp’ sound like ‘show up anytime you please..’”

Rory glanced down at her watch. It was 7:10. She took in another breath.

“Sorry. My mom decided now was the better time for a quick grocery haul.” not knowing what else to say, Rory just held out the half-eaten packet of chocolate to the blonde “Want some?..”

“..No.” Paris sticks her nose up, pretending not to show the flash of intrigue “I can’t have any anyways. Frankly, you shouldn’t be having it either, as chocolate is one of the number one foods that lead to break outs.”

“..You can’t have any? Ever?”

“And what of it?!”

“Nothing, it’s just that I think not being allowed chocolate is one of the top things that lead to homicide.”

“It’s called healthy choices – you know what, this isn’t what we came here to do Gilmore!” Paris grew all puffy, face scrunching “So if you can put your snacking on hold for a second, we should do the job that we actually came here to do!”

“And what should we be doing exactly?”

Paris sighed again, tightening her arms “I think we should split up. You take the north side, I’ll take the south side, and that way we’ll be able to get a better look of anything that goes bump in the night shows up.”

“But isn’t that pretty much what Medina told us not to do?..”

“Medina doesn’t know what he’s talking about!!” Paris somehow grew more upset, throwing up her arms “I fail to see any point in sticking together when we could be covering twice the ground and stopping the vampires before they ambush us.”

“But what’s the point of having our combined efforts if these vamp groups just overtake one of us alone?” Rory counters, following when she sees Paris start to march forward towards the line of graves without much attention “Also, how well do you know Glenhaven’s?”

“I’ve been here enough, thank you very much! You don’t have to act all high and mighty simply because you’ve been here more often –”

Paris’s words fall away the second she realizes her foot didn’t hit the expected grass patch, but rather an extremely deep pit that immediately tilted her forward and nearly led into scrambling and screaming before she fell face first –

But was countered by Rory snatching her collar with seemingly no effort at all, yanking her back. Paris stalls slightly, breathing heavily down at the gaping dug out grave at her feet. Rory stuck her head around then, unable to help her grin.

“Then you’ll know which plots they’ve left empty?..”

Rory wouldn’t deny it; there was a secret joy in proving Paris wrong. Miss Perfect Slayer, does-all-her-research and here’s-my-kill-count-list-from-yesterday’s-patrol-as-well-as-the-extra-credit-poetry-assignment. And to her delight, Paris does go a little red, slitting her eyes back at Rory.

“..We stick together.” She mutters, ripping herself away from the grip “And stop looking so smug!”

Rory could only sigh, throwing a hand up. She trailed after once more, converse digging through the muddy grass and staining them in the process to keep up with Paris’s brisk walk.

“So now what? We just make laps?”

“Well you tell me Rory Gilmore.” Paris turns on her on her so fast Rory scrambles not to crash, arms crossed and with a hardly restrained glare “You’re the one with all this experience in this area, so much you defied Medina in that you didn’t need me here. So enlighten me – what do you usually do?”

A clear challenge. Rory didn’t think of herself as the fighting type (frankly, it was one of the biggest things she hated about slaying). But at this point, she’s nearly had her fill of Paris showing her up not only in her academics, but in her slaying too. She died for this gig, goddammit.

So Rory straightens herself up a little, stepping into Paris’s space. If she wasn’t mistaken, she saw a flicker of surprise cross the deep brown eyes.

“Fine. We should head to the mausoleum; they often like to congregate there. Something about it’s spooky and slightly evil aura lours them there, or whatever, so I bet if we’re gunna see any groups of them that’s the ticket, That is, if you can avoid stepping in another plot..”

She watched Paris grit her teeth together. She stepped even to Rory, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ll watch my back..”

She didn’t move and neither did Rory, until realizing that Paris probably expected her to go first. So Rory ripped her eyes away and marched around her, heading towards the paved path that lead up the incline to the large monument, Paris following behind.

They climbed up in mostly silence. The cemetery was thankfully large enough that there were a few lamplights placed throughout, here and there by the bigger plots or empty spaces. So they weren’t climbing in complete darkness, given how they were essentially caged in by the blocks wide graveyard (with enough trees, land and stone slabs no one could see out of it if they were this far in). It was still dead quiet though, with only the wind whistling through, the occasional car motoring from a block away or bird fluttering the in the branches. Rory shivers slightly, pulling the jean jacket around her a bit more. In that regard, it makes her almost glad to have another person with her.

She glances back to Paris who’s trundling behind her. The anger she’d felt seconds earlier had dissipated and rather, her mom’s and Medina’s voice came back, filling her with guilt. Paris must’ve noticed the staring because her head suddenly jolted up, furrowing at Rory.

“What??”

“Nothing.” Rory tried to act nonchalant “Just that it’s kinda..nice you know, to have another person here. It’s not like patrolling alone makes for a fun night out..”

Paris rolls her eyes in response, not surprising Rory much “Aren’t you always with those two anyways when you do this?..”

“I mean, not always; Lane’s mom hardly lets her out past seven, and with Jess, he sometimes does but I’m usually trying to get him to stay home and actually finish his prep essays then tag along with me making hissing vampire noises just to freak me out.”

Now Rory hears a scoff.

“What surprising behaviour, coming from him. For a second I think he has intelligence and then..”

“He does!” Rory defended, only after realizing how fast that came out “I mean, he’s just..he’s got a lot of layers you gotta work through..”

“Ah, a luxury only afforded to men but never to women.” another eye-roll Rory swears she could hear “I’ll say though, he did surprise in me that when I called his appraisal of Vonnegut a typical male academic response since those types could rattle off male authors but never touch a book written by a woman, he was actually able to list the Austen he’d read..”

Rory smiled at that, turning back to the blonde as the hill finally started to flatten and the crumbling, shadowed mausoleum rose into view “See? Layers. I mean, it helped that I kind of went off on my Austen rant and suggested a couple more for him to try, but he did start all on his own anyway..”

Another scoff, this time dryer.

“Of course he did..”

Rory stops walking, brows falling together.

“And that suppose to mean?..”

“I mean, it’s obvious he’s in love with you.” Paris shrugs, giving this you know exactly what I mean look that Rory didn’t particularly care for “You could see it from space.”

“He is not!”

“Gilmore, don’t tell me you’re so dense! Every charming smirk, every remark that gets under your skin, all the sabotages to his own schoolwork so you’ll help him – it’s textbook!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking –”

“I mean, he’s the one who saved you, isn’t he?..”

Rory pauses, thrown by the reminder. Paris was right but she doesn’t like thinking about it, really. She doesn’t like thinking about anything of that night.

However, all rushes back at Paris’s mention. The hard ground of that cave pressed into her back, of the absolute pain radiating through her body. The bruising she could feel around her neck still, from where she’d been choked before it all went dark. The light ripping open her dazed eyes and Jess gripping onto her arm as he yelled, muffled to her, above, Rory! Rory are you there?! Can you hear me?!

Barely able to string two and two together to realize she’d been brought back from the dead and instead just thinking about how she’d never heard Jess sound so scared in his life.

Paris was starring at her. Rory quickly shook her head, getting rid of the cold that had sunk into her body.

“It’s...complicated.”

“Isn’t it always.”

Rory huffed, head tilting back slightly “Look, even if you were right, it’s not like dating is really on the agenda! Medina wouldn’t even let us go out for debate!”

“But if it were you’d be dating Jess?”

Rory could only sigh and give in at this point, throwing up her arms.

“Paris, if you’re so interested in Jess’s dating life then you can ask him about it.”

Yet another scoff. She was rather good at that. She’d rolled her head to the side, taking a glance around the still silent graveyard as they stood beside the building. By now Rory was failing to see what Medina had been talking about; they hadn’t even heard a peep since they’d arrived.

“Please. Not only is he in love with you –”

“He’s not –”

“And the fact that I’d hardly stand a chance as you have the face of a cherub –”

“I definitely do no have –”

“But mostly, that is not at all why I’m inquiring.”

“Alright, then who do you like?”

Paris fell quiet at that, surprising Rory. She stared, furrowed, at the ground, the faint streetlight illuminating the side of her face as it was deep in thought. She actually looked rather pretty, Rory thought (when she wasn’t raging in anger), with the light highlighting her thinly sculpted face and cheekbone. Eventually, she lifted her head slightly to Rory, eyes flicking up and catching hers.

For a second of stalled time, the browns held Rory’s blues, watching her – and Rory suddenly felt stuck. It was like Paris could see right through her, the iron browns still harsh but quietly beautiful in their own right. However, in that moment, Rory caught what looked like a more vulnerable shine in them, nervous as they held her. Immediately, she wanted to know what that meant.

But then the paused second broke and Paris swiped her head away, stomping around Rory with a flushed face.

“Nobody. As you said, slaying leaves no time for dating anyway.” Rory gave into the fact she just didn’t wanna tell her this secret crush making her face all red while Paris stalked up to the mausoleum, giving the thing a glance over as if vampires were going to jump right out from the haggard cracks “Unlike my peers, I have much bigger plans in store then a make-out session in the back of some guy’s car he borrowed off his father to up his chances with girls.”

“I mean, not like that bar is far off the ground already.” Rory followed, dropping her bag down and plopping on the cemented sidecurb of the crypt “But what plans are those? From what I know of you so far, I’m guessing Queen of the Slayers?”

“Hilarious. I’m talking about post-graduate plans, Gilmore.”

“Wait, you still have graduating plans??”

“Yes?! Why wouldn’t I?? Don’t you?!”

“Yes! I-I mean, I..I did..” Rory was the one to go red now “I just...I dunno, it’s hard to say now..”

“What’s so hard about it? Study by day, slayer work by night, and you can sleep when you’re dead.”

Rory snorts “Okay, so what is your plan then?”

“What?”

“What do you wanna do?”

The question almost seemed to take Paris by offense. Her eyes slit further, arms crossing to become even frumpier somehow.

“..Please. Like you actually wanna know.”

“I do wanna know!”

“No you don’t!”

“Then why would I ask?”

“Forced politeness! Plus, I know Medina put you up to the task – told you to throw me a bone by ‘welcoming me in’ and being all buddy-buddy..”

“Well then, what else do you suggest we do while we wait around for the creatures of the night?? Sit around in thin silence??” She asked to Paris who seemed out of answers, once more reaching into her good nature to try and make civil conversation “C’mon!..I wanted to be a writer!”

That seemed to peak her interest, the blonde pivoting to Rory slightly.

“A writer?..”

“Well, a journalist, more specifically. Work my way through all the various papers – Globe, Times – and then maybe end in being an editor of one. My first love is always going to be stories and I grew up reading my town’s local paper and, so, you know..”

She trailed off, not really wanting to go on. Talking about writing and her future used to fill her with excitement and delight, for what she was going to get to do when she got out there in the world of writing. It’s all she’d dreamed of after all, since she was a kid. After the slayer news though, the thought just fills her with disappointment – now that it’s been ripped away from her.

“..You’d be good at it.” Paris finally takes a seat beside her, afterwards trying to shake the embarrassment briefly crossing her face “At least, according to your grade levels..”

That wasn’t the reaction Rory was expecting, making her brow bunch and lips almost twitch “Is that a compliment?..”

“It’s not a compliment, I’m saying you stand a chance. And I say this as someone who was the chief editor of my last school’s paper, so I’d know..”

“Were you actually?..”

“Two years running.” She smiles faintly and it might’ve been the first time Rory had seen her reflect on something without a scowl on her face “I had contenders, but in the end no one in that place could best my skillset. I also ran the school’s book club. If I didn’t have to be here in a murky graveyard, I’d be at home either making up my second pair of study cards or rereading The Illiad by now.”

“The Illiad?” Rory couldn’t keep the amusement in her voice back from hearing this. So far, all Paris has been was we have to do our duty and acting as Slayer #1, so the idea that she was secretly finding being away from her hobbies as much of a pain as she was, delighted her.

“I know you think it’s sad!” Paris snapped back “You’d probably be off with Jess or Lane to hangout and kickback, or even have a movie night with that mother you keep talking about..”

Rory didn’t say anything back. Instead, she reached for her bag and unzipped it – and watched Paris’s brows go back when she pulled out a familiar rectangular object.

“..Jane Eyre?”

“And this.” Rory gleamed as she brought out the handheld flashlight in her other hand “You gotta come prepared after all; it’s not just about the stakes and holy water.”

Paris scoffed, but this one was a bit gentler and didn’t hide her smile well. Rory beamed back.

“So, bookclub – let me guess, no Vonnegut.”

“I never said I didn’t like Vonnegut. I said I didn’t care for those men who worship the pages he and Hemingway wright by! I mean, they’re good books and Hemingway did help shape the written prose – but there’s only so many times you can bring that up in an argument before it gets stale! Mary Shelly also invented a whole goddamn genre with her first book! God forbid there be an ounce of nuance in male academia and they find out women can wright too!”

“And that’s why you’re rereading The Illiad?” Rory couldn’t help the tease in her voice “Only written by a dead guy roughly centuries old.”

“Get off your pedestal Gilmore; just because you’re reading a book by a woman doesn’t mean Bronte wasn’t also a wealthy English woman.” Paris hit back, making Rory chuckle “The Illiad still stands up, but any sensible person can tell that the only reason half these books have been cultivated as ‘classics’ were because some old men of high society decided their perspective was the dominant and clearly they had the highest literary talent out of everyone – don’t even get me started on Salinger and his pathetic protagonist!”

“Hey, I enjoyed it!”

“Why?!”

“Because sometimes it’s important to have a narrator you don’t always like, or you can’t always trust, like Holden. It adds to the story, I think, because it’s not like every book is made for you to personally enjoy – it’s here to tell you a story, either in enjoyment, frustration or disgust. And Catcher in the Rye is one that hits at the story of loneliness in a young person’s life.”

“Christ, if you want a story on loneliness try Plath! At least she, even by leaning on things in her own life for it, wrote a feasible plot that didn’t just make her protagonist bumble threw the story and then tossed a ‘oh they’re changed now!’ at the end with nothing to back it up – it’s no wonder Salinger went into hiding after that! And good thing too, to save us from another one of his monstrosities!”

Rory could say how Paris was clearly already set in her bias, and that Plath had her own perspective just as Salinger did – but instead she just started laughing, unable to keep it in from the literary digs and Paris’s adamancy. Paris furrowed at her, a second of examination to see what this laughter meant, until it melted into a smile. Quiet and shy, Rory saw, with eyes nervously watching until her head ducked down, slightly, so the long blonde hair covered up the side of her face until she reached up to carefully tuck it behind her ear.

And if Rory wasn’t mistaken, she saw a bit of ice come off her shoulder too.

She smiled to herself now; maybe there was something to what her mom, or even Medina, said. Because admittedly, Rory didn’t mind this Paris. The one who didn’t always want to wear her Slayer Hat and could talk books with her and was much funnier then she’d admit.

Watching her, Rory eventually quieted and soon turned away, down to her converse in the grass. Neither said anything for a minute, the night wind whisping by as they gazed out to the, well, dead, graveyard.

“..So, now you wanna tell me? I mean, if you honestly see a world of us being able to work nine-to-five jobs with these late night hours, and not to mention the always-hanging potential threat of death.”

Paris paused for a second, brow bunching again and that lightness from earlier dropping from her, turning no-nonsense again.

“Look, just because my plans got uprooted by this calling, doesn’t mean I have to chop down that tree entirely. I’m not abandoning the academic and career plan I’ve had since I was five for this, nor anything. However, as with anything I take on, I’m going to do it to my fullest ability – so if I have to do this slaying, then I’m going to be the best Slayer of them all.”

“I’ve noticed that..” Rory mutters, quickly continuing as she sees Paris try to open her mouth again “But from my position, you know, even if you go hard enough at it and try to do all the slaying of evils, no one really gets to end up ‘the best’ Slayer – you just get to end up dead.”

She hadn’t meant for it to sound so morbid, but there it sat. Rory would like to be inspired by Paris’s tensity for slaying, but she couldn’t get there, not after what she’s been through. After all, Paris had only handled a few vampires so far – nothing compared to the mouth of death that nearly swallowed her whole. If she wants to do her all at slaying, then she should be aware of the consequences –

“Well that’s not on my agenda, to die – at least prematurely.”

Rory just blinked back. That’s all she could do, staring at the blonde who has her arms crossed and the most serious tone. Did Paris just...deny death?

“….Well it wasn’t on mine either!”

“Clearly Rory, by the fact that you’re still here! A for effort, truly, but I don’t plan to make the mistake you made.”

Paris abruptly got up then to stand in front of her – and with the crossed arms, towering stance and frowning expression, Rory suddenly couldn’t help feeling like she was being reprehended. Like a little kid being scolded by the teacher.

“So next time, just try to avoid as many death situations as you can..”

The hot surge of anger came on so fast it shocked Rory. She nearly died fighting a kind of underworld demon who was going to end the world and here was this girl criticizing her technique for it?! Rory sprung up and began stomping after her as Paris tried to walk off.

“Oh, that’s the key?! Well if only I’d known! Hey, I know, why don’t you write it down on a piece of paper for me, just don’t die, and that way, the next time it gets written in a prophecy that I’m suppose to die and a demon has me by the throat, I can just pull it out and I’ll be saved!”

Silence. Rory was heaving, suddenly feeling out of breath. She saw Paris’s arms tighten, gaze sharp.

“..Funny Gilmore – are jokes still the only thing you have up your sleeve?” She took a step towards the brunette so they were eye-to-eye “You know, it’s not my fault your bad at your job.”

“Bad at my job? Honestly, Geller, you talk big for someone with such little experience – what have you got? Just a kill count on a couple graveyard level one vamps? I’d like to see you try to get out of the situation I was in.” Rory flung her arms up, feeling herself getting worked up but not really caring “I’ve died for this gig, alright?! There’s no one more committed then me!”

“Oh god, how long are you going to play that card?!” Paris rolled her eyes, anger starting to flare by the snarl across her lips “What would you like Gilmore, a parade?! Because it’s getting old!”

“I –”

“And yeah, maybe I haven’t dealt my hand at something bigger yet – but somehow my kill count is still more then yours! So who’s on top now?!”

That was it. Rory felt her last string snap. Screw trying to be friends with this girl and screw what Medina and even what her mom said. She’s tried everything she could and somehow Paris still wanted to rip every metaphorical friendship bracelet Rory’s tried to make.

Tired and angry and beyond frustrated that she’s in this cold graveyard stuck doing this shitty job along with this girl who hates her, Rory bit down and was suddenly grabbing the brown leather of Paris’s jacket and shoving hard. Paris stumbled back slightly, eyes widening in both shock and anger.

“..Did you just shove me?!”

“What’s your problem?!” Rory yelled, stepping into Paris’s space without a trace of her previous shyness “What’s wrong with you, huh?! What’s your issue with me?! All I’ve done is try to be nice to you since you came and all you wanna do is make this a competition! So what’s your damage?! Huh?! C’mon quippy, why so silent –”

The pause of shocked silence stopped and then Rory felt the labels of her jacket being snatched and shoved even harder. She stumbled backwards at the force, catching herself last second before falling, gaping up at a seething Paris and a brief thought flashing that with both Slayer’s strength, this could turn ugly fast.

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you Gilmore!” Paris seethed, stepping back into her space “You wanna sit here and cry about all these woes in your life when you already have everything?!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Rory demanded.

“Don’t act dumb! You have it all and you don’t even see it properly!”

“What do I have Paris?! What?! A job that’ll kill me one day, some awful scars and nightmares about not being able to wake up again?! And what I did have you’ve already succeeded at – the highest GPA, the better Slaying ability, everything, not including the family money you get to roll in –”

“God you are so dense! How the hell could you miss it Gilmore when you have everything I don’t? God – you know what happens after we’re done here tonight?! You get to go back to your loving home with your mom who’s going to make sure you’re home alright after your study session and I get to go home to the empty rented out apartment my parents tossed me in once they saw I got into Chilton so they could happily ship me off!!”

That wasn’t what Rory was expecting. She thought she’d hear something a little more petty, but it didn’t look that way from how Paris shook slightly and the gloss now covering her eyes.

“..You’ll get picked up and your mom will ask you about your study session and then when you’re at home Jess will call you, pretending like he just wants the notes for his science worksheet but he’s really calling to make sure you’re safe from patrol, and you say you’ll promise to see him tomorrow when you and your mom go for your weekend morning pancakes at Luke’s where you’ll brush off every townie’s concern when they see the massive bruise on your arm. Then at school, Medina will praise you for another well done patrol because of course you got the nice Watcher who’s still singing your praises for defeating the Big Evil and then you can lament to Lane about having spent the night with me!”

“..Paris I –”

“You know what I’ll get to do?!” Paris pressed on, voice starting to crack “I’ll get to go home and wash off all this dirt and blood alone! I’ll sit in the lonely apartment and my parents won’t call and even if they do it’s so my mom can make sure I’m still not eating junk food and getting fat while she’s not here to monitor me! I’ll do my homework and then go to school with all of you, walking into the room with the other slayer who’s already slain the Goliath I have no way of comparing to and watch her talk to her friends and have to report to her Watcher because I got called here on a goddamn technicality and you think I wanna be friends?!”

Rory didn’t know what to say now. Guilt immediately creeped in, not having seen it from Paris’s point of view. Sorry didn’t feel like it was going to cut it, but Rory still tried to step forward to say something – until she saw a flash something down the hill.

Behind Paris, about a backyard’s space off. Rory furrowed, leaning closer.

“Paris, I’m sorry, but I think –”

“And I don’t say this because I want your pity Gilmore! I refute that! I don’t want any of your guilt or attempts to be friends!”

Another flash, ducking behind the trees. Rory could just see it – it was a body. Dark and sunken face and pieces of recently unearthed dirt crumbling off it – and shining teeth. Her stomach dropped.

“Paris –”

“Because this isn’t about making niceties! We’re here to do a job and I’m going to be the very damn best at it so if you don’t like it then you can pack up your slaying boots and I’ll take over!”

It was getting closer. Rory was trying to keep her eyes on it but the undead move surprisingly fast, zipping in out of trees and gravestones till it was about ten feet away from Paris and still moving. Rory felt stuck; not knowing what to do between the yelling and ranting Paris who wasn’t going to let her get a word in edgewise and the fact that if she didn’t do anything this frenemie of hers was going to end up joining the evils rather then fighting them.

“Paris you really –”

“At least the others, plus this town, won’t have to worry about the next slayer dying on them!”

“Paris –”

“Now all you’ll have to worry about is me wiping the floor with you academically Gilmore, because no matter the amount of slaying I’m not letting my 4 point average slip or letting you get ahead!”

“Paris –”

“So watch out, because I’ve got – hey –”

Something snapped Rory in place and as the vampire rose behind Paris’s shoulder – she grabbed the brown leather and yanked her out of the way right as the other hand slipped the stake out from her pocket, ramming it into the chest of the decaying body.

The vampire let out a dying, strangled hiss but in seconds evaporated to dust, falling onto the grass in front of them. Rory let out a shaky sigh and her arms drop, staring down at the pile of ash. Even by how much she’s been slaying, she’ll never really be okay with the actual slaying part.

Paris shuffled up beside her, starring wide-eyed down at the pile. Neither of them said anything, just relishing in the fact that one of them didn’t end up as that vamp’s next meal. Then finally, Paris pointed to the ash and said,

“That doesn’t count.”

Rory sighed, throwing her arms up.

“Whatever..” she huffed; at this point she was done trying to play Paris’s game “We should really go check out where that vamp came from..”

Paris wasn’t done though, stomping after her.

“Oh no, you don’t get to go on first after that!” She pushed forward by yanking Rory’s shoulder back, stepping in front of her “And you don’t get that kill either – I’m starting the kill count now!”

“Fine! Doesn’t matter to me!” Rory only half-lied while trying not to say the you’re still only here on a technicality that she was thinking, not noticing how Paris swiped for her arm when she tried to push past.

“Wait –”

“Leave me alone –”

“Gilmore turn –”

“Just get out of my way Paris –”

“Rory –”

“What?!–”

“Duck!”

Rory had no time to do anything before Paris snatched her collar, yanking her down. She just barely had the time to see Paris throw her stake from over her own shoulder, piercing right through the vampire that’d been quickly descending from behind her. He too, let out a strangled noise and evaporated.

Oh. Rory leaned back up, staring at the dust and then flicking her eyes to Paris who was taking in a heaving breath. Part of her could make another joke about whether this one counts or not, but the terrible feeling swelling in her gut shut down any kind of jokey mood. Almost in sync, both girls glanced down near the gated edges of the graveyard where a low sound of hissing and groaning came from.

There wasn’t lots, but there was enough. Vampires plotted along the gate at the hill’s bottom – all along the black metal as it spread out and were walking their way up the incline. Rory froze up slightly, not really noticing how she leaned into Paris or how the blonde did the same, glaring down at the creatures.

They couldn’t stay here, in the open. They needed to see them from a much better advantage point. And Rory had a sinking feeling that this, somehow, wasn’t all of them.

“Let’s get to the high ground.” Her words came out hurried and got a tight nod in response.

They both ran back up the way they came – up to the mausoleum sitting atop the hill. Rory rushed with Paris at her heels, already hearing the noises of the oncoming creatures making their way up. They were far away enough for now, but she knew that wouldn’t last forever.

Finally they reach the top, the exact elevated point of the grassy hill that stood at the highest peak, right in front of the building. From here you could see the whole of Glenhaven’s.

And each girl stood, back to back, staring down in terror at the graveyard absolutely literally covered in sunken, decaying bodies.

Everywhere. There was a thick swamp of them. Body after body, en masse, dotted in the grass and seeming to cover the whole of it. They trundled ahead and up the hill as one large pack with their dead eyes locked onto the girls. At this point, Rory thinks they’d start looking less terrifying by now many she’s slain – but there was nothing familiar to put her at ease about the crowd of grey skin and fangs, snarling and shoving at each other so they could be the first to make a meal of one of the Slayers.

“Shit..” Paris hissed, inching back further, heels bumping into Rory’s.

“So, I think this is what Medina must’ve been talking about..”

The joke was thin at best as Rory watched, wide-eyed, at all the vampires making their slow way up to them. She did a quick head count, rounding up to at least thirty on her side. She flicked her gaze over her shoulder to Paris’s side, also seeing about thirty on hers too.

Sixty against two? Great.

“What the hell are they all doing here?!” Paris yelled “Don’t they have anywhere else to go spend eternity?!”

There was no running out of this one. Rory knew it. She willed herself to do something, only to inch back more, shoulder pressing into Paris’s.

“What’s our gameplan?!” She asked hurriedly, trying to make herself louder over the oncoming noise of growling.

“I’m pretty sure we are the gameplan Gilmore!” Paris snapped, anger doing nothing to hide her panic.

Perfect – no plan, no backup, and an army of vampires to tear them into bloody pieces. It was times like this Rory wished her smarts came in the form of quick action then well-written prose and the ability to remember textbook facts.

She needed to come up with something fast, starring down at the sea that was inching closer. Faintly she could hear Paris’s panicked breathing, coming out in harsh waves. She glanced over again to the blonde, catching the side of her face.

The snarl has twisted into a terrified grimace, eyes wide as she also starred down the oncoming army. Her breathing was stilted and Rory knew she was trying her best to seem unafraid but it wasn’t working. She was almost trembling. Paris might’ve seen a handful of them, two or three in groups so far, but nothing like this. Things started to slow for Rory then, watching Paris closely as a feeling of incing familiarity came on and –

you’re the only two people in the world who can understand each other.

Rory knew that fear; she knew exactly how it sat rotting in your stomach, how it made the cries too tight in your throat to let out. It was the very same she felt when she stood shaking at the mouth of the cave that was going to lead to her death. And she knew how alone she was in it with no one at her side. Her mom, who had no idea she was even there. Her friends, who couldn’t help her. Or even Medina, who’d sworn to prepare her.

But, Rory suddenly realized as they stood back-to-back and heel-to-heel, that was no longer the case for either of them.

There was a lot about Paris she could not understand. But she understood this.

“Here!..”

She felt the jerk of Paris’s head at her voice, glancing to her. Rory quickly, with shaking fingers, grasped the other stake she’d put in her pocket and reached around until she felt Paris’s warm palm and slipped it in. She didn’t let go even as she felt fingers grasp around the weapon, holding on while she flicked her gaze up. Paris was staring back at her, eyes wide and open and unsure.

Rory took in a steady breath.

“I got your back, okay?”

The words hung in the air there, in the slowed seconds as the surrounding growling became too loud to ignore. Willing to be taken. Rory didn’t break her gaze from Paris’s and she wouldn’t until –

Paris gave a tight, almost unnoticeable nod. That was all Rory needed.

So she pulled her other stake out from her pocket and briefly squeezed her eyes shut before turning to open them again for the screeching now right in front of her as something angry and powerful clicked in –

and then there was ash at her feet.

Rory doesn’t really remember slaying when it’s happening. Nor does she really know how it happens when it does. But it somehow does. She could only blame it on some, instinctual Slayer powers that only show themselves in the heat of the moment.

She remembers dodging bodies and the swinging, grasping hands as they surrounded her. She remembers the blocks Medina taught her and the sharp kicks to stomachs which took her forever to master without falling over. She remembers in the blur of growling and screaming, the bodies evaporating and the dust that gets on her jacket and the onslaught lessening; the sweaty grip on her stake that she dare doesn’t drop and the manta of stay up stay up stay up don’t give them the advantage that goes on repeat. Paris’s defiant yelling from a couple feet away, making sure she didn’t suddenly go quiet. Just trying to stay on top of how many there were.

Until a thick hand comes around the back of her neck, lifting her up before tossing her to the ground. Her back hit the wet grass in a heavy thud, head slamming back and knocking her. She scrambled for her stake but hands pushed her shoulders back and a heavy body held her down, trapping her.

The vampire’s face hung inches from her with a curling grin that showed the sharp teeth pointing out and threatening to make punctures into her neck. She wriggled all she could, squirming and heels kicking at the dirt, but he was too heavy to push and her stake had rolled to her side and her arm was stuck between his weight and this is when she feels panic rush over. He’s hissing in delight and leaning in further and she hears Paris who’s fighting too far off to be able to see her and Rory can’t find a way out and this can’t be the way she dies.

“No –”

The weight suddenly evaporates and then so does the body. Dust sprinkles down on Rory who quickly sits back up, coughing and shaking herself off. Then she looks up, and finds Paris standing over her.

Stake in hand and hardened expression as she stares back down, breathing heavily and blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. There’s a pause where Rory doesn't know what to do exactly, just staring up at the other girl with some kind of awe. But Paris doesn’t miss a beat, reaching a hand out to her.

“C’mon!”

Rory scrambles, quickly holding out her arm and the two hands meet, clasping, where Paris yanks her back up. She shoves Rory’s stake that’d previously been on the ground that the brunette didn’t even see her pick up, into her chest, and fixes her in a glare.

“Pick it up Gilmore – if either of us want to make it out of here alive, I’m going to need some of that anger I saw earlier!” She starts to rush back in, throwing over her shoulder “So get to it! I can’t do everything!”

Anger. Rory flicks her head the other direction, catching the last handful of vamps charging her. She felt something swell in her chest, jaw locking. She could do that.

The vamp lunged but Rory was ready, staking the body before there was even a chance. The others follow in succession and it cost her a couple blows and scratches but they all fell. Her body was aching and the terror wasn’t completely gone but right now anger and adrenaline were louder. She could hear Paris fighting her way through but this time it wasn’t far off – instead, she stood nearby, both girls working around each other as the last of the bodies fell to nothing. Rory didn’t even realize that it was done until her stake caved through the last chest, and she watched the vampire dissipate – right as Paris caught hers.

Then, it was quiet. The graveyard was silent and still like nothing had happened, stretching out in empty space and eerie wind whistling. They were all gone.

It was over. Done.

Won.

Both girls immediately let out a deep breath, falling back into exhaustion right at the moment so their backs crashed into each other’s, holding each other up. The only thing they could do was try to collect their breath; Rory, eyes closed, breathed in and out as steady as she was able to calm her racing heart, feeling the gentle rise of Paris’s body against hers doing the same thing. It took some time to find their mental footing, and honestly, Rory was content to just take a breather. Just stand in the quiet that was suddenly so peaceful, letting herself breathe again and finally loosen the white-knuckled grip she had on her stake.

“I wanted to be a doctor.”

What?

“What?..” Rory asked, glancing around her shoulder with a raised brow.

“I wanted to be a doctor.” Paris repeats, glancing tentatively back “Well, a myriad of things; a judge, a business woman, or even get into politics potentially. But, a doctor was always the first thing. Ever since I was little..”

“Huh..” was all Rory found to say, but secretly glad to have been invited into this knowledge. She smiled a little, imaging Paris with a clipboard and white coat, giving out sharp instructions to all the nurses and lackies; she’d be good at it.

“And I’m still going to be, of course..”

“..Well, I’m not going to do all the slaying because you gotta work the night shift at the emergency ward again, just so you know..”

Paris scoffed, eyes rolling to the side; Rory was almost coming around to the noise. If she didn’t miss it either, a small smile grazed the blonde’s lips also. More silence stretched out, but it wasn’t as hollow this time.

Paris looked back at her, and for the first time that wasn’t in a moment of panic or anger, the harshness has slipped away. Instead, what was left was nervous sincerity, holding Rory’s eyes up to her own.

“..I’m sorry you almost died.” she offered quietly. Rory stared back at her, bruised and battered and still with blood splotches, and managed a loose smile back.

“..I’m sorry you got called on a technicality.”

Paris didn’t say anything back but Rory didn’t need her to. That seemed enough. They were left to stand there on tepid ground, Paris tightened her arms around her stomach and Rory watching, unsure, until she heard,

“...Want to get the hell out of here now?”

“Yes.”

-

“You’re sure your mom is coming?”

They’d made it back down the block, returning to the library. Sat up on the curb, aching and tired whilst staring down the completely barren road in front of them. They had to be quite the picture; two teenage girls, propped up on the curb late at night with the only light shading them coming from the nearby steetlamp whilst covered in scrapes and bruises. Rory looked up from where she’d been staring at the black asphalt underneath her converse; they were slathered in mud now, and she was thinking about how she’ll probably have to go home and scrub them.

“Yeah. She’s the kind of woman who can’t be rushed.” She answered, flicking her eyes from down the empty road dotted with pools of yellow light and over to Paris sitting beside her “..You don’t have to sit here with me you know..”

“I’m not.” Paris sharply defended, that familiar bunch in her brow coming back “I’m defending, continuing to keep a look-out, like I’m suppose to be; you never know when the walking evils will come back..”

“Sure..” Rory said in a tone that convinced neither of them. She starred at her a second longer, noting the split lip and the blood still crusted in the corner of her mouth. She looked back at her own hands, still somewhat covered in soot.

Her trusty bag sat at her other side, so Rory unzipped the top. She began rummaging until the coloured, sealed packet made it self known.

“Wet wipe?”

Paris swiveled her head, squinting down at the packet Rory was holding out. Tentatively, as if it was going to turn into snakes or something the second she touched it, Paris slipped out one of the damp white cloths.

“Thanks..” she muttered, running it over her hands “What the hell else do you keep in that bag, besides the greatest of Bronte?..”

“Uhhh..” Rory stuck her head back in “Wet wipes, holy water, some granola bars, another book just in case, batteries, concealer for bruises, um, extra stake, some polysporin and bandages if you want..”

Paris lightly shook her head “And including the kitchen sink too, I’m guessing..”

“Basically.” Rory brought her head up, smiling a bit “You just never know what you’re going to get with slaying, or when you need a good prep kit.”

Paris snorted “Yeah, clearly that was a learned lesson tonight..”

“..Yeah. But you did good, and fought well.” Rory tentatively offered her compliment, unsure as always, how Paris would take it “And pretty tough, for a newbie..”

Paris looked back, raising a brow “..Thanks. You did well too. You’re fast.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.”

“When you’re not getting mowed over by vamps larger then you that is.”

Rory huffs, smiling tiredly “Right. Thanks, also, for that whole thing earlier..”

“Not leaving you to die?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you did, then you really would win this Slayer-off.”

“That’s not how I want to win this Gilmore.” Paris glanced out again, eyes scanning “Not by default.”

“Clearly..”

“So if you wanna keep this gig, then you’re going to have to do better then the eight-five I broke.”

“Does a hundred-and-twelve work?”

“What?!” Her head came spinning back to very well spit foam in Rory’s face “How the hell did you swing that?!”

“Well, see, you take a stake –”

“I’ve said before that you can’t rely on your previous slaying numbers from before I got here! Those are folly numbers!”

“I’m not! If you didn’t notice Paris, we had an onslaught try to overtake us so it’s not a shock to get a lot in!”

“That’s just because you stole from my side!”

“I – you – what – I did not!”

“I saw you cross over to my area earlier in the midst of all of it!”

“Yeah I was trying to make sure you weren’t dead!” Rory found herself starting to yell again “And if we’re using that train of thought, you took one of mine when he’d held me down!”

“Well that’s the last time I try to help you out then Gilmore!” Paris shot up, towering over her “Fine then! I’m calling the next patrol, on my own!”

“You can’t do that!” Rory scrambled up now, standing face to face with Paris “You can’t call patrols! Medina mitigates those!”

“Well what’s he gunna do?! Stop me from trying to do the sacred duty I’m sworn to perform?!”

“In that case then, if he can’t stop you then he can’t stop me either – in fact,”

Not knowing what possessed her, Rory stepped even closer to her, almost nose to nose. Paris kept her steely gaze steady, jaw locked together and gritted teeth, but Rory didn’t flinch. She stood straight and never once strayed as she spoke,

“since it’s just as much my duty as yours, I’m just as indebted to the patrol as you – so maybe we’ll have to see where it lands...”

“..Fine.” Paris gritted out “Let’s have another go at it. See who ends up on top.”

Rory smiled back, despite herself. She let her body relax now, but Paris didn’t budge, continuing to stare her down. Soon, the anger started to melt away – mold into something else as she crossed her arms, eyes flicking up and down the brunette and almost smiling, like she knew something Rory did not. Rory furrowed back.

“..You know, you’re a curious case Gilmore.”

“How’s that?..”

“All you’ve done, so far, is complain about this job and having to do all it entails.”

“..I mean, I wouldn’t call it complaining..” Rory completely withdrew from her bravado earlier, feeling suddenly shy “But, I mean, I don’t know of a single sane person who wants to be in a cold graveyard, fearing for their life rather then having a movie night at home or making study notes or whatever..”

“Fair enough. But yet, you’re doing your all to defend this ‘gig’ that you claim to despise. Not exactly the behaviour of someone who’d rather drink paint then be play her part as The One..”

“...Maybe.” Rory shrugged, lifting her head to meet Paris’s eyes “..But it is mine.”

“..We’ll see.” Paris said quietly. Rory felt the corner of her mouth twitch up. A pause came over again, but it wasn’t as stiff as earlier. Rather, the girls simply stood in the quiet, listening to the careful wind whistle over.

“..But, maybe...” Paris tried to appear offhanded, shrugging as she stared off “I could..you know, do some of those Friday shifts, if you really have to sit around watching tired old movies with your mom and gorge on snacks..”

Rory was genuinely surprised, raising a brow to Paris.

“..You know, that’d be a really nice gesture if I didn’t think it was actually a ploy to get your numbers up...”

Another scoff, and then, there, a smile. Shy but sure, Paris ducking her head slightly like she was trying to conceal it. Rory smiled back though, in a way wanting to encourage it. Paris actually had a really nice smile, when she showed it.

There was a sudden loud beep, echoing out of Paris’s watch that signaled the hour. She glanced down at it, sighing tightly.

“Well, that’s it for me. I’m still trying to get in a regular block of sleep, even with these hours. Now, you’re sure...”

“My mom will be here any second, promise. After losing me in a supermarket for three hours when I was a toddler, she learned her lesson.” Rory couldn’t help enjoying the confused head shake she got in response, head tilting at Paris “Hold on, wait...”

“What?..”

Rory was lifting a hand up before she could think about what she was doing, reaching around to the curve of Paris’s face. Paris immediately froze up, Rory catching how wide the brown eyes went as she leaned into her space. But there was a smidge of dirt on Paris’s temple that she’d missed earlier. So Rory placed the cuff of her jean jacket over the warm skin, ever-so lightly swiping the rest of it away.

Paris stood so still as she did it. Rory could barely even hear her breathing, the rise of her chest stilted. However her eyes didn’t move off Rory as the other girl squinted at the splotch to rub it away. They seemed to study her, and if Rory had been paying more attention, she’d have seen how they looked just as they did earlier – open and careful and almost trusting.

“There,” Rory hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her own breath until she stepped away “Just..some dirt..”

Paris didn’t say anything. She simply stared at Rory. That left Rory to just stare back, watching the wide eyes as they started to sharpen and a little red suddenly blossomed over Paris’s cheeks. Another pause holding over them, as if the moment was waiting for what they’d do –

“I have to leave.” Paris blurted out, pivoting sharply around on her heels to start walking off to her car “Try not to die out here on your own Gilmore!”

Of course. Rory could only chuckle to herself, half in confusion and half in amusement. She watched as the small, blonde figure got farther and farther away as she walked, leaving her alone with just the streetlights. Then, before Paris was out of earshot,

“Then if you want the next patrol, try not to be upset when I get the better grade on the Macbeth essay!”

Paris did look back over like she expected – didn’t say anything in return which was surprising, but there was just enough distance between them for Rory to see the low smile thrown back at her. The we’ll see was already unspoken.

It was only a couple minutes later when the Jeep pulled up. Rory eagerly climbed up into the front seat, sitting back with a content sigh when she was met with the plush seating and warmth from the heater.

“She lives!” Her mom grinned back at her, brows eagerly wiggling “So, make any progress?”

“..Yeah.” Rory declared, smiling to herself “No one string up any friendship bracelets yet, but I think I got some of the ice to chip off.”

“See? Knew no one could resist those charms.” Lorelai beamed, only for it to slip off a second later into concern, reaching forward to push up under Rory’s chin with her fingertips “Those, this is gunna cause real damage to that. Geez kid, what did you do?..”

Rory winced the second the fingers touched her skin, sinking stomach as she realized a bruise hidden under her jaw that she’d clearly missed.

“Hope that wasn’t Paris who did that to you..”

“Oh, j-just another prize wrought by my own two left feet.” She quickly explained, putting on the perfect smile that hopefully showed casualty “Never run up to a library study table, because you’ll trip and meet the ugly pointed end of one.”

“Ugh.” Her mom winced but seemed to buy it, sitting back “Well, thankfully I know of a bag of frozen vegetables in our freezer that were never going to get eaten in the first place..”

“I mean, now that you’ve found a convenient way to get rid of them.”

“..Well, sounds like someone doesn’t want the victory slash condolence ice cream she was going to get after this..”

Rory beamed.

After it all, when they got home and her mom pushed the frozen bag as well as the allotted bowl of ice cream before bed into her hands, Rory decided maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The next day of course, Paris came into class, reported to Medina and avoided Rory like nothing had happened, not really shocking anyone. But then, when Medina started talking about patrol coverage, Paris mentioned the idea of a schedule and that she wouldn’t mind taking Fridays. And Rory couldn’t help taking that as a small victory.

Or when, a couple weeks later, Paris showed up at her house Friday night; her patrol ended up finishing a bit early, and she just wanted to give Rory the book she thought she’d misplaced from her last shift (turns out, it’d slid behind a gravestone). That’s when Rory, as Paris stands there on her porch with her arms nervously tightened, invites her in. The movie hadn’t even started rolling yet, and when Paris questions her on it, she says I’m doing this because this is what you do with friends.

We’re friends?

I think we’re somewhere in the bizarre, friends-ish realm.

And then Paris all-together brightened.

So she comes inside and her mom, of course, embraces her as if she were Lane or anyone else. She sits in the armchair as the mother and daughter lounge on the couch and Rory gives her the whole package of Twizzlers and they watch their rerun – and despite how stiffly Paris sat, sometimes Rory would look over and she’d be smiling.

Maybe they weren’t really ‘suppose’ to exist together.

But Rory was really coming around to being glad that they were.