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Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', 'Tour of Duty' or 'Predator'. I also do not claim authorship of any scripted words you might find in this fic. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: BtVS, Tour of Duty, Predator.

Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar: Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

Timeline: Post BtVS season five, Tour of Duty season one, Predator, pre original film.

Words: Nine chapters of 3000+ words.

Warnings: None.

Summary:“We gotta get out of this place,” sang the band as the soldiers joined in, “If its the last thing we ever do...” By this time Buffy was fairly sure that the song wasn't really the national anthem of Vietnam. Not only does Buffy have to come to terms with finding herself in the past, but she must also deal with the VC, NVA and a vicious, alien, big game hunter.

*: Free Fall; Hawkwind.

Turning away from Dawn, Buffy paused for just a moment before she started her run towards the rising sun. Her long strides soon took her to the end of the platform; stepping off Glory’s tower, she leapt into thin air and fell towards the portal that glowed beneath her. As she fell she felt the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders, she heard the wind rushing in her ears and a loud, calm, female voice that seemed to fill the entire universe.

“…and now the marks for artistic interpretation…” The voice started to recite numbers. “…Eight point five, eight point seven, eight point…”

Slowly the voice faded away and Buffy found herself caressed by a soft, warm, blackness and for a time a feeling of utter peace surrounded and engulfed her, until…

The first thing Buffy heard was a loud roaring sound a little like surf crashing onto a beach. Listening harder the roaring slowly turned into cheering, a lot of people cheering, a lot of guys cheering. The air felt hot and heavy against her skin and Buffy sensed that she was in fact exposing a lot of skin so she obviously wasn't wearing a lot. Blinking her eyes open a little she winced at the bright lights and the clear blue sky. Blinking her watering eyes clear she looked to see what or who was making all the noise. Because now she thought about it, there did sound as if there were a lot of guys out there who were actually pleased to see her.

Eventually, Buffy opened her eyes all the way to find herself staring out at a sea of faces. Watching, what seemed to her to be, thousands of happy, smiling faces, Buffy let the sound wash over her. The faces were cheering, whistling, shouting, smiling and the bodies that belonged to the faces were all dressed in some sort of green uniform. Soldiers maybe? And what was she doing up here on a stage that was hung with red, white and blue bunting?

“Uno-dos-one-two-tres-quatro...AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The loud intro made Buffy jump a little. Turning towards the sound she saw four guys holding instruments, it took Buffy's confused mind several seconds to work out that the guys were a rock band. The volume of the cheering, already loud enough to make Buffy's insides vibrate increased by a couple of notches as she felt her body start to move in time with the music.

“Woolly bully,” cried the lead singer, “Watch it now-watch it,” Buffy found herself moving her arms, legs and body in time to the music without any conscious input from her brain, “yah girl...watch it!”

Okay, Buffy said to herself as her brain started to put the clues together; she'd jumped off Glory's tower and this was heaven, or quite possibly, hell? Was she doomed to spend eternity as some sort of go-go dancer?

“Matty told Hatty,” after a short guitar riff the lead singer started to sing again, “About a thing she saw, had two big horns, and a woolly jaw...WOOLLY BULLY!”

Okay, what the hell was a 'woolly bully', Buffy asked herself as she let her body move to the beat of the music. It didn't seem to need any direction from her so she decided to let it get on with things while she tried to work out what was going on here. Okay, she began to try and put all the pieces together; first there were a lot of soldiers who all looked really pleased to see her up here on the stage. Buffy really hoped that dancing was all she was expected to do, because there really did look to be a heck of a lot of guys out there.

Right, what else? Buffy listened real hard and tried to blank out the band (who sounded pretty good as it happened, a little retro for her tastes but not bad) everyone seemed to be speaking, or at least yelling in English...in American English too, which was always a big plus in Buffy's opinion. So, finally the big question, what was she doing and why was she doing it?

Looking to her left and right, Buffy saw she was part of a five girl line up of dancers positioned around the group. The girls, all of whom were about her own age, blonde, really 'energetic' and all wearing the same outfits, like some kind of uniform, but not like any she'd seen before. Glancing down at herself Buffy gulped when she saw that she was wearing exactly the same outfit as the other dancers...no wonder the guy's in the audience were so happy to see them or indeed her!

The first thing Buffy saw as she looked down at herself was a pretty revealing halter-top with a stars and stripes pattern printed on it. Further examination told Buffy she was also wearing what looked like skin tight, shorts or 'hot pants', as her mother might have called them. Suddenly images of her mother wearing hot-pants intruded into her mind and made her shiver and miss a step in her dance routine. Recovering quickly; Buffy noted that she seemed to be pretty good at this dancing and worryingly not very self-conscious judging from the way she was shaking her breasts at the soldier-boys in the audience. To finish off this 'stylish' ensemble her legs and feet were encased in knee length boots, again in silver.

The band came to the end of its song and Buffy and the rest of the girls stopped dancing and started to jump up and down and wave instead. Every time she jumped, Buffy felt like her breasts were going to pop right out of her top. Okay, she wasn't 'big', in fact she wasn't as 'big' (relatively speaking) as she'd been when she was sixteen, but the halter top was so small that she felt she was in danger of showing the soldier-boys everything. Glancing at the other dancers Buffy saw that one of the girls had really large breasts and she had to quickly look away!

“Thank-you!” called the lead singer as the music stopped, “Thank-you very much!” Still the crowd cheered and clapped and generally seemed to be having a good time. “You guys have been great I can't tell you how much we love you.”

Buffy found herself jumping up and down and waving extra hard while the singer spoke; she got the distinct impression that had the singer been calling everyone in the audience an 'asshole', the soldiers would just keep on cheering as long as the dancers kept on jumping up and down.

“I wanna let you guys know we appreciate all the sacrifices you're making over here...” the singer sounded like he was being really sincere, “...covering our butts back in the States...take care of our country, right!?”

Another clue at to where she was, Buffy told herself, obviously the United States was in some sort of war and she'd been sent out to help entertain the troops. That just left the $64,000 question, where? There were far too many trees about for it to be the desert.

“YEAH! YOU GUYS ARE GREAT...I MEAN THAT,” Buffy also couldn't help thinking that the singer was really sucking up to his audience.

By now Buffy and the other girls had stopped jumping up and down and were now confining themselves to waving and smiling. The audience, however, didn't seem to care and just went on cheering like before, obviously these guys hadn't seen any American girls in a loooong time.

“Before we get outta here,” the singer said into his microphone and his voice boomed out over the sea of soldiers, “I want you to get on your feet and sing the national anthem of Vietnam...”

Vietnam!? Buffy almost stumbled and forgot to wave and smile as she heard the name, but her body kept on moving, at least it knew what it was doing. There couldn't be any US soldiers in Vietnam, that war had been over for decades. A horrible realisation started to creep over her, the retro music, the clothes, the soldier-boys in what she now thought were rather dated uniforms. It couldn't be possible but somehow jumping through Glory's portal had sent her back to the Vietnam War...and by the looks of things, back to Vietnam itself.

Finding herself going into a new dance routine as all the soldiers got to there feet, Buffy heard the singer count in the band and the guys in the crowd.

“One, two-one, two, three!” the band started to play as Buffy and the girls began a dance routine that appeared to involve making their breasts bounce about a lot.

“We gotta get out of this place,” sang the band as the soldiers joined in with the words, “If its the last thing we ever do, We gotta get out of this place,” Buffy got the definite impression that the song wasn't really the national anthem of Vietnam, “ Girl, there's a better life, For me and you....”

The band played the chorus over several times as Buffy and the other girls gave the guys a show they'd be remembering in their dreams for quite some time. By now, Buffy didn't feel at all self-conscious or degraded by the way she was dancing or by the reaction of the soldiers. It felt like she was doing her patriotic duty in some small way. Eventually she stopped trying to over-think it and just went with the flow, after all this seemed like fun and so much better than being dead.

“Alright! Alright! Thank-you very much!” The singer yelled as the band stopped playing and the girls started another round of jumping up and down, “Yeah alright! We've had a good time with you boys,” the singer continued, “Y'all take care of yourselves...we love you!”

With that the singer lead the band off stage. Too busy enjoying herself bouncing up and down and waving, Buffy almost didn't notice the other girls leave the stage too.

“BUFFY!” yelled one of the girls over the roar of the crowd, “Come on, we'll be late for our lift!”

Late? Buffy thought as she turned away from the happy looking soldiers, giving them once last wave and bounce before she headed towards the side of the stage. Okay, they were in danger of being late and there was a lift waiting for them...which had to be way better than having to catch a bus or something she told herself. Running off stage to join the other girls, Buffy found them giggling excitedly and lighting cigarettes, they sort of reminded her of a bunch of unhealthy cheerleaders what with the revealing outfits and the cigarettes.

“Miss Summers,” a male voice registered on Buffy's slightly numbed ears; obviously her name was the same here as it was back home, from the way the guy had said it it sounded like she was also in charge.

“Y-yeah?” Buffy turned to see a tall, heavily built soldier with a gun on his belt and the letters 'MP' painted in big white letters on his shiny black helmet.

“I'm sorry, Miss Summers but the chopper you and the band came in on has had to be re-tasked,” the soldier explained.

“Oh!” Buffy tried to sound as if she knew what was going on and what the soldier was talking about, “Does that mean we have to walk?”

From the look on the soldier's face Buffy realised she'd said something wrong or stupid, she smiled brightly to cover her mistake.

“Joking!” Buffy cried out over the still loud cheers of the crowd, “What do we have to do now?”

“We've got a couple of Hueys to pick you up,” the soldier explained while Buffy wondered what the heck a 'Huey' was, “but the band will have to go on one bird and you an' your girls on the other...”

“Bird?” Buffy was really confused now, too many things had happened to her in too short a time and it was making her brain hurt.

“Helicopters?” the soldier made a circular motion above his head with his finger before glancing at one of his buddies and rolling his eyes, he then looked back to Buffy, “If you'd come with me and my guys, we'll get you outta here.”

Following the big soldier, Buffy noticed several other MP guys moving into formation around them. It was only then that Buffy realised that she and the other girls might be in some sort of danger. Whether that was from some unseen enemy or the over excited crowd of soldiers remained to be seen. Walking out onto a big, dusty field, Buffy saw two helicopters sitting on the thread bare grass, their rotors turning slowly as the engines started up.

“Hey!” Buffy pulled on the sleeve of the big soldier to get his attention, “If we're going up in those things,” she indicated the helicopters, “couldn't we get changed first?”

“Not enough time,” shouted the soldier over the noise of the helicopter's motors, “but I'm sure the crew on the chopper wouldn't mind you changing once you're aboard!”

“Yeah,” Buffy rolled her eyes at the guy, “very funny...erm,” Buffy made a guess that the girls and herself hadn't just turned up like they were dressed now, “what about our stuff?”

“Already aboard,” the soldier called as he ducked low and lead Buffy and the dancers towards the chopper, “keep your heads down.”

Running crouched over, Buffy followed the soldier towards the chopper, as she ran she checked over her shoulder to make sure that none of 'her' girls had got lost. Arriving at the helicopter, Buffy was the first to climb aboard. Looking around she saw there were no seats, but someone had placed some small suitcases (obviously belonging to the dancers) against the rear wall of the chopper and between where the pilots sat and the cargo area. This was hardly first class accommodation, moving around the little compartment, Buffy spotted a case with her name on it, she quickly went over to it and sat down.

Watching as the other girls climbed aboard, Buffy looked around the chopper, there were two guys up front, obviously the pilots and one guy who must be the operator for the guns that pointed out of the helicopter's side doors. As the last of the dancers climbed aboard and found somewhere to sit, the machine gun guy yelled at everyone to buckle up and hang on tight as the noise of the engine, already loud, increased in volume. Buffy felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach as the helicopter almost jumped into the air. Swinging around and away from the stage area the chopper began to gain altitude as it started to fly off over the jungle below.

The big MP stood with his buddies as he watched the choppers fly off into the distance, he chuckled quietly to himself.

“What's so funny?” one of his buddies asked.

“Californian girls,” the MP smiled, “you hear about them but you never quite believe it's true 'til you meet one!”

The noise made by the helicopter effectively prevented even shouted conversation, so Buffy took the opportunity to recap what she thought had happened to her; she'd jumped from Glory's tower and then she'd fallen through the portal, she'd died to save her sister and the world and what was her reward? Well, she appeared to be the leader of a troupe of go-go dancers who supported a rock band as they went around in helicopters entertaining the troops in Vietnam of all places.

Okay, Buffy started to ask herself, when was the Vietnam War? History had never been one of her strong subjects at school and was the Vietnam War even history? Buffy felt fairly safe in saying that the Vietnam War was in the sixties, possibly the late sixties? Most of her recollections about the war seemed to concentrate on the anti-war demonstrations at home and the unkind way people had treated the soldiers when they'd returned to the States. Wherever she was and whatever she was doing it sure beat the hell out of being dead...a thought struck her; hadn't her mother been born in the sixties? Wouldn't it be fun to go and see her mom when she was a little girl?

Thinking about her mother in happier times, Buffy found herself looking out at the countryside as it slipped by under the helicopter. There appeared to be an awful lot of trees, more trees than she could remember seeing in any one place before. Looking closer she noticed that it wasn't all trees, there were clearings every now and then and sometimes little rivers. After awhile Buffy started to think that it all looked quite beautiful in an untamed sort of way. Smiling she thought she might like it back here in the sixties, a chance for her to start over. No doubt there was another slayer alive in the world somewhere so she wouldn't have to worry so much about the world of vampires and monsters, maybe she could have a shot at being 'normal' after all.

A loud thudding intruded on Buffy's thoughts as the pilot started to make wild evasive manoeuvres, she saw sparks fly from the metal skin of the chopper as holes started to appear all over the place. Buffy knew instinctively that they were being shot at, the pilot put the aircraft into a dive heading for the tree tops as the machine gun guy started to shoot into the jungle with one of his guns. All around her the dancers screamed in silence as guns fired and engines roared.

Grabbing hold of the terrified girl next to her, Buffy tried to calm her by hugging her tightly. Looking out of the front of the chopper, Buffy saw a trail of smoke head towards the helicopter carrying the band. The smoke trail struck home and the chopper exploded in a great ball of fire as pieces of flaming wreckage fluttered to the ground like burning leaves. Almost before she could fully comprehend what had happened, the helicopter she was in juddered frighteningly as if it was being hit by handfuls of metal hail. Buffy screamed as the gunner's head exploded in a spray of blood, bone and pieces of green, glass-fibre helmet. One of the pilots slumped across his controls as the remaining pilot fought to keep the chopper airborne.

The compartment started to fill with smoke as all around her girls screamed in terror and the chopper plummeted towards the ground. Looking out of the shattered windscreen, Buffy held on to the girl in her arms as the remaining pilot fell back in his seat his chest a mess of blood and bone. The trees rushed towards them and Buffy found herself cursing her luck. In just a few seconds she'd gone from thinking about how cool it could be to restart her life back in the nineteen-sixties to watching death rushing towards her in the shape of a very large tree.

Words from; 'Woolly Bully' by 'Sam The Sham & The Parohs'.
Words from; 'We gotta get outta this place' written by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil and recorded as a 1965 hit single by The Animals.

Copy and paste to your favourite search engine or highlight and right click.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdR7yieQdoo

Chapter Text

2.

The helicopter missed the tree, not by much, but it missed and Buffy found herself not having to deal with dying twice in one day. The Huey crashed into the upper branches of the tree and turned onto its side before continuing its journey towards the ground fifty or sixty feet below. The cargo compartment was full of evil smelling smoke and screaming go-go dancers, who were being bounced around like peas in a drum as the chopper crashed from branch to branch.

Hanging on for dear life to the girl she'd grabbed earlier, Buffy saw her world spinning and bucking wildly. By some miracle none of the dancers fell out of the chopper until it was only a few feet off the ground. Crashing to a halt in the undergrowth the Huey started to burn, slowly at first but with greater enthusiasm as the seconds ticked by. Aware of the crackling flames and the groans of the young women around her, Buffy forced her eyes open and saw how much danger she and everyone else was in.

“Wake up!” Buffy cried as she started to shake semi-conscious girls into action, “Come-on we need to get outta here!” Buffy pushed the girl she'd be holding towards the open door in the side of the compartment, “Come-on!” the sound of burning was getting louder in Buffy's ears and her slayer instincts were telling her that she needed to get everyone out 'most ricky-tick'. Even as she heaved distressed young women out of the door to safety, Buffy wondered where that phrase had come from; whatever, she shrugged, the time for introspection was for later and not while she was standing in a burning helicopter.

Looking around the compartment Buffy saw that all the girls were out and more or less safe. Lastly she checked that the two pilots were actually dead, they were. For a moment Buffy wondered if either of the flyers had had time to call for help, probably not she told herself. Whatever, she'd better act as if they were on their own and look to her own and the dancer's safety as if no one was going to come for them.

Crying out in surprise as something exploded in the rear of the Huey, Buffy looked around in case there was anything useful she could grab before the chopper was totally consumed by the flames. Seeing a first aid kit fixed to the side of the pilot's compartment, Buffy ripped it from its mounting and jumped from the Huey just before its fuel tanks detonated. The heat of the exploding fuel washed over her, Buffy could smell her hair singeing as it started to shrivel in the heat. Knocked off her feet, Buffy rolled as she soaked up the force of the explosion. Lying on the ground near the burning helicopter, she shook her head trying to clear it of the fuzzy feeling in her brain, Buffy realized she must have hit her head somewhere along the way. Forcing herself to her feet, she felt someone grab hold of her arm and drag her to safety.

“Are you alright, Buffy?” one of the blonde girls asked to the accompaniment of burning helicopter.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded her head and wished she hadn't, “I'm fine...” Buffy looked at the girl's smoke stained face and realised she had no idea what her name was. “Erm, look, I'm sorry...” Buffy stumbled over her words, “...I musta hit my head coz I've no idea what your name is...” she smiled weakly at the girl, “...sorry...and erm thanks for you know...” Buffy pointed vaguely towards the wreck of the Huey, “...whatever, thanks...?”

“Bunny,” said the girl.

“What?” Buffy frowned at her.

“My name?” the girl smiled, “It's Bunny.”

“Oh god,” Buffy groaned, “why am I getting a bad feeling about this?”

“You're Buffy,” the girl continued before pointing to herself, “I'm Bunny,” she started to introduce the other girls, “that's Betty, Becky and Bella.”

“Oh great,” Buffy sighed, “all 'B's'.”

“Yeah that's why they call us the 'Dancing Bees',” explained the dark eyed girl called Bella, “Look there's something wrong with Becky, she won't wake up.”

“Let me see,” Buffy crawled over to the girl who was lying with her head propped up on Bella's thigh, “First aid box,” Buffy gestured for someone to pass her the green box with its red cross on the lid, “Crap!”

No wonder the girl wouldn't wake up, she had a hole in her chest just below her right breast.

“Will she be okay?” Bella asked as Bunny and Betty looked at her hopefully; it was at this point Buffy got the feeling that she was the brains of the outfit.

“I don't know,” Buffy opened the first aid box and picked out the largest dressing she could find, “here help be lift her up so I can bandage her up.”

It was only when they sat the girl upright that Buffy discovered that whatever had hit Becky had gone right through and come out of her back.

“Quick,” Buffy ordered, “another dressing.”

Wrapping the dressings around the girl, Buffy wished she new more first aid. Yeah she'd dealt with her own injuries over the years, but she always had slayer healing to fall back on, this girl didn't she needed a hospital. Tying off the bandages, Buffy looked up and studied the jungle. It wasn't quite as bad as she'd at first feared, down here at ground level it was fairly open, the sun's rays having been blocked out by the tree canopy. They'd be able to move reasonably quickly and they were going to have to move and move soon. Whoever had shot down the chopper would no doubt want to inspect their handiwork. Even now Buffy could feel several presences moving towards their location.

“Okay,” Buffy sat back on her heels and looked at the blood on her hands for a moment, “look we need to move before the bad-guys get here...”

“The VC!?” Bunny cried as a look of abject terror crossed her face.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “the VC, whoever, we need to move and move fast,” Buffy looked at the thoroughly terrified girls who were all looking to her to save them. “Bella, Betty pick up Becky and carry her if you can...”

“Are you sure we should move her?” Bella asked.

“No!” Buffy exclaimed, “I'm not sure, but do you want to leave her here for the VC?”

Bella shook her head.

“Good, right lets get moving,” Buffy pushed herself to her feet with a little help from Bunny.

“Which way?” Bunny asked on the edge of tears.

“Anyway away from here,” Buffy pointed to what might be a path, “like, that way.”

Sitting on an old tree stump in a clearing, PFC Marcus Taylor pocked at the gunk growing around the nail of his big toe with the point of his bayonet.

“Man! My whole body is turning into one big fungus,” Taylor told his buddy, Spec Four Marvin Johnson, who was sitting close by looking slightly disgusted by his friend's actions. “My hands, my knees, my armpits my crotch, the stuffs still spreading too, it's gonna turn me all green.”

“Well, look at it like this Taylor,” Johnson tried to get his friend off the subject of fungus, “at least there's less prejudice against green folks back in The World.”

“Man,” Taylor continued with his fungal excavations as he spoke, “I've got forty-five days and a wake-up, I can't go home with my skin, all flakin' off and smellin' like I've bin dead for two weeks”

“Like anybody gonna know its you anyway,” Johnson smiled.

“There's girls back home dyin' for getting some o' me,” Taylor stopped picking at his toes and stuck his bayonet into the tree stump he was sitting on, “because I'm the trash talker, the woman stalker, the booty shaker and the baby maker!”

Johnson rolled his eyes as Sergeant Anderson came up behind Taylor and sat down next to him.

“Well now,” Anderson cast an amused glance at Johnson, “It just makes my heart leap with joy to hear a poet celebrating yet another glorious morning in the bush.”

“Well I'm glad somebody's happy,” Taylor observed drily.

“Well, I'll tell you what Taylor,” Anderson continued good naturedly, “I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm hungry, I'm tired, I'm dirty and I stink!” Anderson glanced over to were Johnson sat with a resigned smile on his face, “That's what every good grunt lives for ain't it Johnson?”

“You forgot ugly!” Taylor laughed as he put his sock and boot back on.

“No I didn't,” Anderson replied abruptly losing any humour in his voice.

Taylor gave Anderson a worried look while his buddy Johnson laughed to see the concerned expression on his friend's face.

“You guys ready to move your tail down the trail?” Anderson asked.

“This better be the end of it too,” Taylor complained, “we've bin out here three days and ain't see nothin', I think Charlie called off the war...”

“Well,” Anderson sighed, “that'd make me real happy too, Taylor. But since you're so glib and everything this morning and its so quiet out here, I'm gonna let you take point.”

Anderson patted Taylor on the shoulder causing a small cloud of reddish dust to rise from Taylor's fatigues and equipment. With a last glance at Johnson, Anderson got up and walked away.

“Here,” Johnson passed Taylor his bayonet, “don't forget this.”

“Buffy!” Bella called from the rear of the little group of lost dancers, “we've got to stop.”

“What's wrong?” Buffy came to a halt and turned to see what was wrong, “Put Becky down over there.”

Buffy pointed to a grassy spot under a tree, Bella and Betty laid their friend down gently in the spot indicated by Buffy. Walking over and kneeling down by Becky, Buffy saw that the dressings she'd put on the girl were soaked with blood. Realising that by moving her they were probably killing her, Buffy didn't know what to do; she couldn't leave the girl and she couldn't move her. To cover her indecision, Buffy pretended she was examining the wound. The hard edged slayer part of herself that she'd been so worried about, told her that the girl was as good as dead. If she wanted to save the others she should leave Becky behind. Looking at the faces of the other girls around her, Buffy knew that wasn't an option. These girls were a team, if she left one of them behind while she was still alive they'd fall apart and then the chances were that they'd all die.

“Okay,” Buffy sighed heavily, “we'll rest here a while.”

They should be safe Buffy told herself. Apart from a slight feeling of unease, probably brought on by being in an unfamiliar situation, her slayer senses hadn't picked up on anything since they'd left the crash site.

“I'm thirsty, Buffy,” Becky said like a hurt and frightened five year old.

“Yeah, right,” Buffy wondered why she had to always think of stuff, make all the hard decisions, “we need stuff...” Buffy looked at all the expectant faces turned towards her, “...Bunny,” the girl looked as if she was holding together better than the others, “you go off and see if you can find a river or stream or something.”

“Okay,” Bunny replied as she stood up uncertainly.

“Look you'll be fine,” Buffy reassured her, “just don't go too far and don't get lost. If you find water come back and collect us...” Buffy looked deeply into Bunny's eyes for a moment, “...we're all relying on you Bunny, okay?”

“Okay,” Bunny nodded before gazing at the jungle in fear, “I can do this.”

Turning Bunny headed off into the jungle making about the same amount of noise as a small herd of elephants, Buffy watched until Bunny's silver hot-pants disappeared into the green.

Moving quietly at the head of the platoon, Taylor tried to blink the sweat out of his eyes. It was hot and the insects kept buzzing around his face trying to get at the salt left behind by his sweat, or to suck his blood. He couldn't help thinking that it was too hot and he was too 'short' for this kind of 'bullshit'. He blinked again and took his hand off his rifle for a moment to slap at a monster mosquito (which was about the size of a small bird) that was sucking on him like Count Dracula.

It was then he heard it, the sound of a footstep off in the jungle ahead of him. Coming instantly alert and forgetting about vampire insects for a moment, Taylor held up his fist indicating that the platoon should halt and take cover. Passing the signal down the line, each man knelt down and covered the jungle on either side of the path with their weapons. The second man in line after Taylor was Johnson who, after passing the signal down the line, got down ready to cover his buddy's back.

Moving on a few steps, Taylor signalled that everyone should stay in cover while he checked things out. This was great, Taylor complained internally, after three days of humping the boonies and seeing nothing, the VC just had to show themselves while he and his buddies were heading for home. Moving cautiously forward, Taylor' eyes swept the bush for anything out of place. Kneeling down he looked through the gaps in the bushes and didn't believe what he saw.

“Lord have mercy,” he said quietly as he pushed back his helmet and stared in wonder at the pair of white, female legs that were no more than twenty yards in front of him.

The legs paused for a moment before running off into the bush. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Taylor tried to dispel the vision. When he opened his eyes again the legs were gone. Staring at the spot where he'd last seen the legs all the frustrations of the last few days bubbled up inside him. Taking off his helmet he threw it to the ground before sitting down at the side of the track. Dumping his rifle in the grass, Taylor sat there with his head in his hands. This was how Sergeant Anderson, Lieutenant Goldman and Johnson found him when they came forward to see what was wrong.

“What's up, Taylor?” Anderson asked as he knelt down next to the point man.

“Its the heat Sarge,” Taylor wailed as he shook his head in disbelief at what his senses had been telling him, “I tell you its the heat!”

“It don't mean nothing, Taylor,” Anderson told his distressed rifleman, “now you tell me what's goin' on, what did you see?”

“A chick,” Taylor stared up into his platoon sergeant's disbelieving face.

“A chick?” Lieutenant Goldman asked, “Right...Taylor, you been smoking' that weed again?”

“Now don't be playing around son,” Anderson admonished quietly, “tell us what you saw.”

“It was a white chick,” Taylor insisted as he pointed down the trail, “with some shorts on and some leather boots.”

Anderson, Goldman and Johnson all exchanged disbelieving glances as Taylor sat by the side of the track, obviously confused and distressed.

“It's the heat Sarge,” Taylor shook his head again, “its gone fried my brains!”

“Hey Taylor you sure, man?” Johnson asked his buddy.

“You want her,” Taylor pointed down the trail again, “you go get her...” Taylor turned to look at Anderson again, “Please Sarge don't put me on point no more. It was a white chick,” Taylor insisted once more as Johnson rolled his eyes in disbelief.

Glancing at Goldman, Anderson raised an eyebrow, before standing up and leaving Taylor in the care of his buddy Johnson. Walking away from the two men, Anderson and Goldman spoke in whispers as they moved slowly along the track towards where Taylor had claimed to have seen the 'white chick'.

“I'll tell you what, L-t,” Anderson knelt down and pointed at a couple of foot prints in an area of bare soil, “that ain't no Ho-Chi-Min sandal print, what do you think?”

“You tell me sergeant, you're the one with all the experience,” Lieutenant Goldman pointed out.

“No Sir,” Anderson replied trying to cover his amusement, “you're the platoon leader,” he grinned, “I thought they prepared you for this kinda crap at OCS.”

“No,” Goldman shook his head, “but, lets see where it goes, go get the guys.”

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Chapter Text

3.

“Buffy?” Bunny wailed in desperation from the depths of the jungle.

“Over here,” Buffy called back quietly.

Locking on to the sound like a missile, Bunny ran in the direction from which Buffy's voice had come.

“Oh Buffy!” Bunny threw herself into Buffy's arms and hugged her like she'd never let go, “I was so scared, I got myself lost and all turned around I thought I'd never find you again...”

“Yeah, okay,” Buffy tried to disentangle herself from Bunny, all the contact with the girl's bare flesh was making her feel uncomfortable, “you're okay now, you've found us, did you find any water?”

“No,” Bunny replied tearfully, “but I heard voices...men's voices.”

“Voices?” Buffy asked hopefully, “Like American voices?”

“I couldn't tell,” Bunny replied, “I heard them and ran away.”

“Probably the sensible thing to do,” Buffy mused, “did they see you? Are they coming this way?”

“I'm not sure if they saw me,” Bunny had now stopped crying and was making an effort to be brave, “but I think they're headed this way.”

“Right...” Buffy tried to work out what would be the best thing to do, there didn't appear to be a right answer to this problem.

“What do we do, Buffy?” Bunny asked.

Looking around at her available forces, Buffy sighed in frustration; if it was Xander, Willow, Giles or even Tara and Anya she'd know what they were capable of, what they would do in situations like this; these girls? Buffy shrugged, about the only thing she thought they could be relied upon to do was run.

“Okay,” Buffy turned to face all 'her' girls, “this is what we do; if they're Americans they can probably get us home...if they're VC we run.”

Well, Buffy added to herself, they can run while I stay here and try to hold the bad guys up and of course there was Becky, she wouldn't be running anywhere. The sound of men moving very quietly through the trees came to Buffy's slayer enhanced ears, it was time for her to stand and fight...again.

“Okay guys,” Buffy said quietly, “get down and hide, remember if these guys are Americans we'll be okay if they're VC, run and don't stop until...” until what, Buffy asked herself, “...until, you're a very long way from here, okay?”

There were answering nods from everyone except Bella.

“What about Becky?” the girl asked obviously fearing the answer Buffy would give.

“Don't worry,” Buffy reached out and squeezed Bella's hand, it was fairly obvious that Bella and Becky's relationship went deeper than just friendship, “I'll look after Becky.”

Listening hard, Buffy caught the sound of at least twenty people moving through the jungle towards her. Twenty to one, even if the one was a slayer those were bad odds, made worse by the fact that the 'twenty' would have guns.

“Okay,” Buffy whispered, “stay down and keep quiet, if you hear shooting run, okay?”

Again there were answering nods as the dancers lay down and did their best to hide. Buffy had no illusions about this turning out well if the men weren't Americans. If they were VC the chances were that in ten minutes time they'd all be dead. Those girls couldn't outrun soldiers, they were exhausted and they'd only just survived almost dying in a helicopter crash. Of course she would fight, she'd take down as many of the VC as she could, but Buffy expected to be shot dead fairly quickly.

“Oh well,” Buffy sighed as she moved quietly towards the sound of the men, “looks like I am going to die twice in rapid succession...” she smiled to herself, “...that's gotta be some kind of record.”

Hiding behind a large tree, Buffy strained her ears trying to hear anything the men were saying. Unfortunately whoever was coming towards her only spoke in soft whispers and they were moving through the grass and underbrush very quietly. Pushing her hair back from her face, Buffy looked for a weapon, apart from a rotten piece of branch she saw nothing that would serve, she resigned herself with making do with her hands and feet.

Pressing her back against the rough bark of the tree, Buffy closed her eyes for a second and concentrated on listening. Yes, the men were close, in fact they were very close and it seemed like they were moving even more cautiously than before. Feeling the two closest soldiers moving towards the tree where she was hidden, Buffy got ready to spring her ambush. Her plan was simple, spring unexpectedly from her hiding place and do as much damage as she could before someone shot and killed her.

The two soldiers coming towards her tree weren't stupid either, they sounded like they were coming at her from around both sides of the tree. These guys seemed more battle-wise than the Initiative guys who'd tried to track her, but then again Buffy wasn't trying to evade them either. With her heart beating so loud, she was convinced that anyone within a mile could hear it, she tensed ready to spring into action.

Noticing the end of a gun coming around the tree to her right, Buffy sprang into action. Grabbing the end of the weapon in her hand she snatched it from the surprised soldier's grasp and threw it away to her left. The soldier gave an astonished cry as his rifle vanished from his hands, he cried out even louder when Buffy jumped at him and knocked him to the ground. Just as she was about to stamp on the downed soldier's windpipe and kill him, something hit her in the small of the back.

Ignoring the pain, Buffy turned to face the new adversary who'd come up behind her, she now found herself facing a black soldier. Buffy paused even as she raised her fist to strike. Her history might not be that good but of one thing she was fairly certain, the only black soldiers in Vietnam were American soldiers. The black soldier on his part stood and stared at Buffy in complete and utter shock, he literally couldn't believe his eyes.

“American?” Buffy asked breaking the silence and lowering her fists.

“Yeah...” replied the soldier as he dragged his eyes away from Buffy and looked around her at the man lying on the ground, “Hey, you alright Sarge?”

“Yeah,” groaned the man Buffy had knocked down, “I'm getting too old for this shi...” the soldier caught sight of Buffy clearly for the first time, “...what the hell?”

“You're really Americans?” Buffy asked not believing her good fortune.

“Yes Ma'am,” replied the black soldier who was still doubting his eyes.

“Thank god,” Buffy hugged the black soldier before turning around and hugging his white friend.

“Hey, ma'am,” cried the white soldier as Buffy nearly knocked him off his feet again with her enthusiastic greeting.

“What's going on...OOMPH!” cried another soldier as Buffy let go of the first white soldier and hugged the new arrival.

“You just wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you guys,” Buffy was almost sobbing with relief; she'd expected to die, again, and now it looked like she'd got yet another reprieve.

“I think I would believe it, ma'am,” the soldier that Buffy was at present hugging replied politely, “now what in hel...” the soldier stopped what he was going to say and changed his words, “...tarnations going on here Sergeant?”

“This little bitty cheerleader knocked Sergeant Anderson down and threw away his weapon, L-t,” Johnson explained before Anderson got a chance to answer.

“That's...” Anderson started to try and give his side of the story but was interrupted by Lieutenant Goldman.

“Is this true?” Goldman looked at his platoon sergeant, “You let this little girl knock you down and disarm you?”

“L-t there's more to it...” once again Anderson tried to explain but this time Buffy interrupted.

“My names Buffy,” Buffy explained and once again everyone was looking at her.

“Buffy?” Lieutenant Goldman smiled down at Buffy, he seemed to find her name incredibly amusing, “Buffy?” he repeated before looking at Anderson, “This gets better and better...Sergeant Zeke Anderson knocked down by a girl called Buffy...” he turned to look at Buffy again, “...I bet you're from California too?”

“Yes, as it happens,” Buffy replied, she was starting to get annoyed at these guys who seemed to be treating her appearance as some big joke, “Hey look,” Buffy punched Lieutenant Goldman on the shoulder and made him stagger back a pace, “my friends are still out there and one of them is hurt.”

“There's more of you?” Goldman asked suddenly becoming serious even as he rubbed the spot where Buffy had hit him, “You better show me,” turning to Anderson he said, “bring the rest of the guys up, form a perimeter and send Doc over we'll probably need him.”

“On it, L-t,” Anderson replied as he retrieved his rifle from the grass.

“Johnson, you're with me,” Goldman said to the black soldier before turning back to Buffy, “Okay, ma'am take us to your friends.”

Walking into the little clearing where Buffy had left her girls, Goldman, Johnson and the platoon medic were set upon by three over excited go-go dancers and were given an intensive hugging. As the girls bombarded them and Buffy with questions the medic got to work.

“Hey guys,” Buffy spoke firmly and just loudly enough for the girls to stop their excited chattering and let go of the soldiers. “Let the guys do their stuff then I'm sure they'll be able to answer your questions later.”

Buffy also had about a hundred questions that needed answering but they would have to wait.

“What's wrong with her?” Doc Matsuda asked as he knelt down next to Becky.

“Something went through her chest during the crash,” Buffy replied as she watched the other girls congregate around Becky and the soldier, “she's been bleeding a lot.”

“Okay,” Goldman said distracting Buffy from what Doc Matsuda was doing, “what...how...?”

“We were doing a show for the troops,” Buffy took pity on the rather cute Lieutenant when he didn't seem to be able to form a coherent sentence, after all it couldn't be everyday you found a dance troupe in the jungle, so no wonder he was confused. “Our chopper got shot down and we've been running ever since.”

“Okay,” Goldman nodded as he tried not to stare at Buffy's chest and legs, “how long ago was this?”

“Maybe a day,” Buffy shrugged, “and for most of that time I'm sure we were being followed.”

“NVA? VC?” Goldman wanted to know.

“Sorry, I don't know,” Buffy shrugged and sighed before looking up into Goldman's face, “I'm sorry, have you got some water I'm really thirsty...I expect the girls are too.”

“Sorry, I didn't think,” Goldman took the water bottle from his webbing harness and gave it to Buffy.

Taking the bottle, Buffy really wanted to drain it dry, but instead she took it over and handed it to Bunny with orders to share it with the other girls. Turning back to Goldman she saw from his eyes and that she'd passed some sort of test. Nodding to the black soldier who was standing a few feet away, Goldman gestured to Buffy.

“Here you go ma'am,” the soldier handed Buffy his water bottle.

“Thanks,” Buffy raised the bottle to her lips and drank thirstily, but not too much; the warm slightly chemical tasting water was the best thing she'd ever drunk, “Oh that's so much better,” Buffy gasped as she handed back the canteen to the soldier, turning her attention back to Goldman, she asked, “Where were we?”

“I was asking if you knew who was following you,” Goldman replied.

“Yeah, I never saw anyone and I'm not sure we were actually being followed, y'know?” Buffy explain, having been relieved from the strain of looking after the girls, plus not dying and going through a magic portal, Buffy suddenly felt very tired. “Oh god,” she moaned as she crumpled to the ground, “I...”

“It's okay, Ma'am,” Goldman knelt done next to Buffy and helped her rest her back against a tree.

“Please call me Buffy,” Buffy asked, “I keep thinking you're talking to my mother...and she's dead...”

Suddenly Buffy found that she was crying like she'd not cried since she realised that her mother was really gone and had not just stepped outside for a moment. The strain of the last twenty-four hours abruptly caught up with her and had flattened her already weakened defences.

“I'm sorry,” Buffy sniffed as Goldman laid a self conscious hand on her shoulder, “I'm normally not all weepy like this.”

“It's okay...Buffy...” Goldman took the towel from around his neck and passed it to her so she could wipe her face.

“No its not,” Buffy replied miserably as she used the towel to wipe the tears from her face; the towel smelt of sweat, bug repellent and mould, “I'm usually pretty strong about this sorta stuff...”

“Yeah,” Goldman hunkered down beside Buffy and smiled at her, “about that...” his smile grew wider, “...just how did you knock my platoon sergeant down? I mean you're not very big or strong looking.”

“You'd be surprised,” Buffy replied quietly before she thought of something, “I didn't hurt him did I?”

“Only his pride,” Goldman chuckled, “so, how did you do it?”

“I had a teacher once who thought girls should know how to defend themselves,” Buffy thought fondly of Giles and wondered what he was doing right now.

“A teacher?” Goldman asked as he helped Buffy back to her feet.

“Well, a librarian, actually,” Buffy explained further, “he was English.”

“An English librarian, taught you how to knock guys off there feet?” Goldman smiled as he shook his head in wonder.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded before changing the subject, “so what do I call you?”

“Sorry, Myron Goldman, Lieutenant, US Army Infantry,” Myron said rather formerly.

“Myron?” Buffy gasped, “And you laughed at my name?”

“Hey!?” Myron said slightly defensively; but before Buffy could get really started on his name he was saved by the appearance of Sergeant Anderson.

“L-t,” Anderson nodded to Buffy before making his report to Goldman, “the guys are in position but I wouldn't advise staying here long.”

“Yeah?” Goldman invited Anderson to explain, after all he'd only been in country a couple of months, Anderson was on his third tour in Vietnam.

“L-t, we've been making a hel...” Anderson glanced at Buffy once again and paused for a second before continuing, “a heck of a lot of noise. If there are any NVA or VC around they're bound to have heard us.”

“Yeah,” Goldman agreed as he glanced at his watch, “we better get ready to move out...get the men ready to move, Sergeant.”

“Sure thing, L-t,” Anderson started to move away as Buffy moved to stop him.

“Sergeant!” Buffy called quietly as she laid her hand on his arm, “about earlier, I'm sorry that I knocked you down and...” Buffy wasn't used to apologising to people she'd hit, “...well, I just wanted to say sorry.”

“That's alright ma'am,” Anderson grinned at her and glanced down at her legs, “teach me to underestimate girls in silver shorts.”

“Do you think he's still mad at me?” Buffy asked as Anderson walked away and she turned to look at Myron and found she'd just passed another test, if only she'd been this good at passing tests in school she told herself.

“Sergeant Anderson's not the kinda guy to hold a grudge,” Myron reassured her, “Now lets see how your friends are.”

Just as Buffy and Myron started to walk over to where the other dancers were still sitting by Becky's side, they were intercepted by Doc Matsuda.

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” Matsuda looked up into Buffy eyes, “there was nothing I could do...your friend's dead.”

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Chapter Text

4.

“I'm sorry about your friend,” Goldman told Buffy quietly.

“Thanks...” Buffy replied as she sat on the ground, her back resting against a tree, “I...” she didn't know what to say, a girl she didn't really know had died yet she felt as if someone had ripped an enormous hole in her heart.

“I'm also sorry that we're going to have to leave her here,” Goldman explained as he squatted down next to Buffy.

“W-what...?” Buffy looked up into Goldman's face.

“Look,” Goldman sighed it was obvious from his body language that he didn't like leaving Becky's body behind any more than Buffy did, “as soon as we find some friendlies we'll call up a Huey and get her picked up.”

“Can't you call up a Huey now?” Buffy asked as she pictured the dead girl left alone in an unfriendly jungle.

“Sorry,” Goldman shook his head, “the batteries for our radio are nearly dead and we lost out spares in a river yesterday...”

“Oh god...” Buffy's face crumpled as everything that had happened to her over the last twenty-four hours caught up with her, tears began to roll down her cheeks as she started to sob inconsolably.

In the last day she'd died, been reborn into a time almost fifteen years before she'd actually been born; she'd lost her sister and all her friends and now she was here in a Vietnamese jungle. One of the girls she appeared to be responsible for had died and she didn't know what to do or say. Just at that moment Buffy really wished she was little again and didn't have to deal with these things, she wished her mom was alive and she could sit in her lap again like she had when she'd been small.

“I'm so sorry...” Goldman murmured as he put a comforting arm around Buffy's shoulder, “...were you close?”

“No more than the other girl's,” Buffy replied as she started to regain control of herself, she looked around for something to dry her face and eyes on.

“Here,” once again Goldman handed over the towel he kept hanging from around his neck; Buffy accepted it readily and wiped her face.

“You must think I'm a typical Valley Girl bursting into tears like that,” Buffy sniffed.

“No, ma'am,” Goldman shook his head slowly, “you've just lost one of your guys, its bound to hurt.”

“Will you please call me Buffy,” Buffy forced a smile as she handed Goldman back his towel; she pushed herself to her feet, “I expect you want to get moving, I'll go organise my girls.”

Fifteen minutes and a lot of tears later the platoon and the dance troupe were on the move working their way through the jungle along a path. Buffy and her girls had been placed in the centre of the platoon, Sergeant Anderson had said they'd be safer there. The other girls might be safer, but Buffy felt like she should be doing something. Leaving Bunny in charge, she worked her way along the column until she found Lieutenant Goldman up near the front of his men.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Buffy asked as she fell into step next to Goldman.

“Ah!” Goldman gasped at Buffy's sudden appearance next to him, “Where did you learn to move so quietly?”

“I suppose it my natural grace as a dancer,” Buffy grinned, “either that or it was being taught to move quietly in dangerous situations.”

“The English librarian again?” Goldman asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy shrugged, “good old Giles.”

“Giles?” Goldman asked.

“The English Librarian,” Buffy clarified.

“Just where was he a librarian?” Goldman wanted to know thinking that maybe this librarian guy had served a hitch in Malaya.

“Just at my old high school,” Buffy explained; just now she wished she was back there in the old, somehow comforting Sunnydale High library...but before it'd been blown up of course.

“So, how did you get to be in Vietnam?” Goldman asked quietly.

“You know,” Buffy replied in a low voice; she'd noticed how everyone was making as little noise as they could, “I don't really remember...I think I hit my head or something and everything from before the last show we did is just a little hazy.”

“You want Doc Matsuda to look at your head?” Goldman asked; Buffy could see the real concern in his eyes when he looked at her.

“No...” Buffy shook her head, “...no thanks, I expect everything will come back to me eventually, so,” Buffy paused for a heartbeat, “What's Lieutenant Myron Goldman doing out in the Vietnamese jungle? Like I'm not criticising you understand,” Buffy didn't want Goldman to think she was some sort of anti-war protester or something, “I'm totally glad that you were here to find us.”

“Well,” Goldman looked on down the trail they were following, “we're out here on a three day 'snoop', looking for Charlie so we can report back to Battalion HQ...so far we've found nothing.”

“That's good to know,” Buffy agreed, “but what I really wanted to know was, what are you doing here...in Vietnam I mean.”

“Oh,” Goldman smiled and shook his head, “I come from a long line of soldiers, my father's a Colonel, my grandfather was a general and so on.”

“Yeah I get that,” Buffy nodded, she knew what it was like to be at the end of a long line of people who'd done the same stuff as her.

“What?” Goldman grinned down at her, “Do you come from a long line of dancers?”

“Hey don't knock it,” Buffy gave Goldman a serious look to go with her tone of voice, “I was doing some important work out here...dancing and waving and jumping up and down so my...” Buffy stopped herself from saying any more only adding, “...lets just say me and the guys were helping to keep your guy's moral up...and a few other things,” she added too quietly for Goldman to hear.

“Whatever,” Goldman shrugged, “when the time came it was the most natural thing in the world for me to join the 'family business',” he slapped at insect that had landed on his neck, “you know like those families were all the sons become cops and all the daughters marry cops. Is that how you became a dancer?”

“Nah,” Buffy shook her head, “I just sorta fell into it after leaving school, I'd been a cheerleader and I was pretty good at that, so...”

“So you remember some stuff?” Goldman asked.

“Yeah I can remember home,” Buffy felt it she was fairly safe talking about her life in Sunnydale and LA as long as she didn't go into details, “I just seem to have repressed everything I've done since I've been in the 'Nam.”

“Well you still remember the slang,” Goldman observed, “so, what what about your family?”

“Mom and dad divorced awhile back,” Buffy sighed, “I lost touch with my dad and my mom died a couple of months ago...”

“Sorry, but I know how that feels,” Goldman replied, “my mom died when I was a kid.”

“I've got a little sister though,” Buffy added brightly, “Dawn, she's being looked after by some good friends while I'm over here.”

“That's good,” Goldman nodded, “I've only got my father now.”

Looking up into Goldman's face Buffy got the impression that Myron and his father didn't get on; before she had a chance to say anything more, Sergeant Anderson came back down the trail wanting to talk to his officer. Making her excuses, Buffy turned and walked back to where her girls were standing.

“Pretty girl, L-t,” Sergeant Anderson commented quietly as he knelt down next to Goldman.

The Platoon had come to a halt; the men had all knelt down and were covering the trees and the long grass on either side of the trail.

“We're coming up on the R-V point with the Arvin,” Goldman showed Anderson his map and pointed to their location, “I want you to take Johnson, Ruiz and Taylor, scout ahead and see if you can find these Arvin guys.”

“Sure thing L-t, we'll find 'em,” Anderson shrugged, “if they're there to be found.”

Like a lot of US soldiers in Vietnam, Anderson wasn't impressed with the capabilities of the South Vietnamese army.

“Well,” Goldman signed, “do what you can.”

“Of course its not really my place to ask,” Anderson gave Goldman a half smile, “but what will you be doing while I'm gone?”

“Well Sergeant,” Goldman affected to look serious, “I thought I'd stay back here and entertain the ladies.”

“Ladies?” Anderson looked at his officer a puzzled frown on his face, “I thought you were only interested in a certain short, cute, blonde, lady who goes by the name of Buffy.”

“Whatever,” Goldman started to get to his feet signifying that the 'briefing' was over, “and my love life, or lack there of is no business of yours.”

“No sir!” Anderson smirked, “Definitely not...but she is cute.”

“Get outta here Sergeant Anderson,” Goldman fought to keep the smile from his face; as usual his platoon sergeant was right, Buffy certainly was cute.

“I'm going L-t, I'm going,” Anderson called quietly as he went on down the track to collect his men for his mission.

“Listen up,” Goldman called softly to the rest of his platoon, “form a perimeter on me...”

Making surprisingly little noise the men not chosen to go with Sergeant Anderson moved off the track and into the bush. Watching as his men formed a loose circle around him, Goldman walked over to where the four surviving dancers squatted under a tree. Walking up to the young woman, Goldman noticed how Buffy didn't appear to be overly bothered by the bugs that flew around and bit any exposed skin and the girls were exposing a lot of skin. While not usually bothered by the idea of attractive young women showing a lot of flesh it probably wasn't such a good idea out here in the boonies. Apart from the girls being eaten alive by insects there were tactical considerations to take into account, looking around Goldman sought out his RTO, PFC Horn.

“Horn,” Goldman found his RTO standing a couple of feet behind him, “go and get a few of the guys to donate their shirts so we can cover the women up before they're sucked dry by the mosquitoes or we're spotted by the VC.”

“Sure thing, L-t,” Horn started to move towards the closest riflemen, he paused and looked back at his officer, “but if you cover those girls up you ain't gonna be popular, sir.”

“Move it Horn,” Goldman called; the sooner he could get these girls off his hands the better, but very soon he started to wonder if he'd be able to find a way to keep in contact with a certain short, cute, blonde.

Taking point, Sergeant Anderson led his men along the narrow path towards the position where they were supposed to meet up with the Arvin patrol. This particular piece of the bush was very thick, with leaves and branches hanging over the trail making it difficult to move without making a lot of noise and disturbing the surrounding vegetation. But, as usual, Anderson did the best he could. The RV point was in a clearing, just off the main track in the bow of a river. Hearing running water over to his left, Anderson guessed he was in about the right place.

Moving on cautiously through the bush, Anderson started to wonder if being so quiet was such a good idea. If he came upon the Arvin and surprised them there was a fair chance that such a meeting could start a firefight, casualties were bad enough but casualties from 'friendly fire' were real bad and could seriously effect a unit's moral. While all these thoughts were going through his mind, Anderson found he'd come out into a clearing, this had to be the RV spot but there was no sign of the Arvin patrol, nothing new there, he told himself. Squatting down in cover, Anderson waved Johnson forward; Johnson was the best scout in the platoon and if the Arvin were anywhere near by Johnson would find them.

“Johnson?” Anderson called softly.

“Sarge?” Johnson knelt down next to his platoon sergeant.

“Scout around down the trail aways,” Anderson pointed in the direction he wanted Johnson to go, “maybe a hundred yards or so see if you can find any sign of these Arvin assholes, okay?”

“On it Sarge,” Johnson nodded as he moved to cross the clearing and head on down the trail.

Having been brought up in a backwoods area of Mississippi, Johnson was at home in the bush. Of course the Vietnamese bush was nothing like home, but he'd quickly found he could use the same skills he'd learnt hunting back home as he needed to hunt the VC out here. Moving on down the trail, Johnson scanned the bush around him, his M16 following his eyes as he looked for any sign of the Arvin they were supposed to meet up with. A little distracted by some movement in the bush about six yards to his right-front, Johnson didn't notice the spent M16 cases until his foot knocked a couple of them together and he heard the familiar sound of brass on brass.

Looking down he saw that this part of the track was covered in spent cartridge cases, the still shiny brass glinting in the sunlight that had found its way through the tress. Halting he knelt down and brought his rifle up to his shoulder, perhaps the Arvin had had a firefight with some VC, maybe the Arvin had been shooting at shadows? Whatever, apart from some boot prints and empty cases he could see no real evidence of a fight. Deciding to go on a little further before heading back to report to Sergeant Anderson, Johnson stood up and took a few more careful steps down the trail. Once again movement to his right-front drew his eyes over in that direction. Crouching down, Johnson moved as quietly as he knew how off the trail, there appeared to be something in the bush, just a couple of yards away.

Coming out into a smaller clearing, Johnson disturbed a whole of flock of loud, squawking, birds that flew into the air at his approach. Startled, he almost stepped back into the bush to make his way back to where Anderson and his buddies waited. Looking up into the trees in front of him, Johnson gasped in horror at what he saw. Unable to stop himself he threw up on to the jungle floor splattering his boots with his own vomit. Turning he fled from the clearing and ran back down the track heedless of the noise he was making.

Back at the RV point, Sergeant Anderson looked up in surprise as he heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the track ahead of him.

“Heads up guys,” he warned the other members of his patrol.

No sooner had Anderson spoken than Johnson burst out into the clearing as if the entire North Vietnamese army was only a few yards behind him. In fact Anderson was so surprised by Johnson's sudden appearance, that he almost ordered everyone to 'bug-out'. Johnson, however, slid to a halt in front of him before the order could leave Anderson's mouth. Grabbing hold of Johnson in an attempt to calm him down and stop his headlong flight, he noted Johnson's wide, starring eyes and how his skin had taken on a grey hue.

“What's up, Marv?” Anderson asked as calmly as he could, “Getta hold of y'self and tell me what's wrong.”

“Sarge,” Johnson looked into his platoon sergeant's face and started to calm down now he was back with his buddies, “those Arvin guys we were supposed to meet...” Anderson nodded his understanding, “...they're all dead man...”

“Dead?” Anderson frowned; Johnson was a veteran he'd seen enough dead bodies not to get so spooked about a few more.

“The VC musta ambushed 'em,” Johnson took a couple of deep breaths and started to act like his old self again, “then they musta strung up the dead and then they...”

“They what?” Anderson demanded.

“They gutted 'em an' skinned 'em,” Johnson explained as he clutched hold of his rifle like he'd never let it go.

“They what?” Anderson turned away from Johnson and looked up the track, he supposed he'd better go and see. “Look, Johnson, Taylor you go back to the L-t and you tell him what you saw, okay?”

“Sure thing Sarge,” Taylor replied when his buddy Johnson didn't answer, “what're you an' Ruiz gonna do?”

“Tell the L-t I'm going to take a look,” Anderson turned to look at Ruiz, his short, Hispanic, M60 gunner, “you okay there, Ruiz?”

“I'm fine,” Ruiz nodded as he hauled back on the M60's cocking handle.

“Okay, people lets move!”

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Chapter Text

5.

Starring up at the corpses, his mind sickened by what his eyes were showing him, Lt Goldman turned away and found himself looking into Anderson's equally shocked eyes.

“Have someone cut 'em down Sergeant,” Goldman said as he took a step or two closer to the jungle's edge; he swiped at the flies that buzzed thickly around the clearing.

The carrion birds had flown away unwilling to share the clearing with so many live humans, but the flies had stayed, their brains were too small to worry about things like living people, at least not when there was so much food around. Standing there starring unseeingly into the undergrowth, Goldman tried to understand what had happened here. He'd seen a lot of really unpleasant things in the short time he'd been in Vietnam, but nothing like this. Turning back to face the clearing he was just in time to watch as a dozen or so of his men started to cut down the bodies hanging like bloody fruit from the trees.

“What the hell happened here Sergeant?” Goldman demanded as he walked over to where Anderson was directing the body recovery.

“Not sure L-t,” Anderson pointed to the ground all around the little clearing, “there's empty cases all over. Looks like they were in a firefight but I can't find any trace of an enemy.”

“None?” Goldman queried.

“Nothing that I've been able to find anyway,” Anderson replied, “and here's something else that's weird...”

“What?” Goldman looked around for anything he might have missed.

“Weapons, L-t,” Anderson pointed over to where an M16 lay in the grass, “whoever did this spent the time to skin and string these guys up, but didn't bother to pick up the weapons.”

“Damn you're right, I didn't notice that,” Goldman admitted although he didn't feel too bad about not noticing, what with all the dead bodies hanging from trees and all. “Look, get some of our guys to bury the bodies while you an' I work out what we do next.”

“Sure thing, L-t,” Anderson replied as he turned to detail off a burial party, “I'll have the guys police up the spare weapons too.”

“Good idea,” Goldman called realising he should have thought of that.

The sight of those poor guys hanging from the trees had really knocked him back and he was off his game. However, forgetting to tell Anderson to police up any weapons found lying in the bush made him remember something else.

“Jeffreys,” Goldman called to a Corporal from his third squad, “go back to the platoon and make sure none of Miss Summers' dancers come up here.”

“On it, L-t,” Jeffreys replied as he moved gratefully away and back into the jungle to make his way to where the rest of the platoon had set up a perimeter at the first clearing.

Sitting under a tree, Buffy tried to make the shirt she'd been given fit her because at the moment it hung on her like a tent. Somehow she'd ended up being given the shirt that had belonged to this really big guy who looked like he was body builder. While he was a good six-foot-two, she was at least a foot shorter so the shirt fitted like an overly large coat. Not that she was complaining...well, not much. The shirts they'd been given not only helped keep the insects off they covered up the large amounts of skin they were all showing; Buffy had noticed the looks more than one soldier had been giving 'her' girls. While she fully appreciated that these guys probably hadn't seen an American woman for ages, the way they looked at her and the other dancers made her feel uncomfortable.

Deciding that the best thing she could do with the shirt was to roll up the sleeves so only her fore arms were visible and then tie the shirt around her middle, Buffy looked up as Bunny came and squatted next to her.

“Buffy,” the girl whispered, a pained look on her face.

“What's up Bunny,” Buffy replied as she again wondered how the five...now four girls had got together to form the Dancing Bees Dance Troupe.

“I need to go,” Bunny whispered.

“Go?” Buffy looked up at the young woman and frowned for a moment before realisation hit, “Oh! Go!”

“Yeah,” Bunny nodded, “like where's the lady's room?”

“Erm...” Buffy looked around at all the trees and bushes, “...I think you just choose your tree.”

“Tree?” Bunny looked completely nonplussed and disgusted by Buffy's suggestion, “Eww!”

“Yeah tree,” Buffy reiterated; it was a little known hazard of slaying, once or twice in her career Buffy had found it necessary to squat behind a bush when a vamp was taking his time rising from the dead, “you should be fine I don't think there's any poison ivy around here.”

Unlike in Sunnydale where she hadn't spotted the leaves and she'd not been able to sit still for hours. Reluctantly, Bunny moved off towards a very bushy bush as Buffy went back to trying to make her borrowed shirt more like a garment and less like a tent. It was while she was doing this that she noticed a soldier walk back into the clearing and talk quietly with another soldier who had more of the chevron things on his arm. Buffy knew the chevrons denoted rank from when she'd dated Riley, but she had no idea what they actually meant.

Almost without realising it she found herself listening in on their conversation, however she didn't listen too hard because when she did she found she could hear what Bunny was doing behind the bush a few yards away. Trying to tune out Bunny and concentrate on what the soldiers were talking about, Buffy listened in as best she could. It seemed that the rather handsome Lieutenant Goldman didn't want the 'women' to see something in the clearing up ahead. This immediately got Buffy's interest, what was it that Myron (Buffy realised she was thinking of Lt Goldman as 'Myron' now, even if it was a stupid name) didn't want her or the other girls to see?

After stopping on the track earlier, 'Myron' had sent four of his soldiers forward. About ten minutes later two men had run back and had a whispered conversation with 'Myron'. Buffy tried to stop grinning like a silly schoolgirl on her first date every time she thought of Goldman. Next Lt Goldman had led half a dozen guys forward while the rest of his guys had moved into a large clearing where they'd set up as if they expected to be there for awhile. By Buffy's guess (she wasn't wearing a watch) they'd been here about thirty minutes. Something really seemed to be interesting 'Myron' and his Sergeant further up the trail.

“Bella,” Buffy called softly to the Hispanic looking girl, “I'm going to find out what the hold up is, keep everyone together would you?”

Bella nodded in the affirmative as Buffy got to here feet before walking softly towards the edge of the clearing. Looking around and thanking whatever gods that looked out for short, Californian slayers, Buffy thanked said gods for the green shirt she was wearing. Yes it was too big, and yes it smelt rather strongly of 'guy', but it stopped her standing out like a red, white and blue, star spangled go-go dancer...well it did mostly as it did little to hide her legs. Glancing around, Buffy saw that no one was taking any particular notice of her, taking one last look she slipped behind a tree and vanished. All she had to do was to parallel the path the soldiers had been coming and going by until she found 'Myron' and his guys. Then she'd be able to find out what she wasn't supposed to see.

“Sarge,” Goldman called quietly as he gestured for Anderson to come over to him. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

“No sir, L-t,” Anderson shook his head firmly, “VC usually just strip any bodies of useful equipment, maybe booby-trap the corpses. They don't hang around to skin the enemy...I mean just how long does it take to skin a man?”

“Damned if I know,” Goldman admitted.

“Me neither,” Anderson shrugged, “but I'm betting it takes longer than the VC would want to hang around after a firefight.”

“So this is atypical behaviour?” Goldman wanted to know.

“You could say that L-t,” Anderson agreed, as he glanced over to where the men had finished digging some shallow graves and were about to place the bodies in their holes.

“Okay,” Goldman dug into the map pocket of his fatigues to retrieve his map, “we'll report this just as soon as we get back to Ladybird,” he said referring to their home Firebase, “what we need to do is decide what we do next.”

“Roger that, L-t,” Anderson agreed as he went to squat down next to Goldman as he opened out his map.

“There's a ville about a mile further down the trail,” Goldman pointed at the map with a grubby finger, “with luck we might find the rest of the Arvin who were supposed to meet us here or some Popular Force guys...whatever someone might have a radio so we can call in some Hueys to get us outta here. Don't forget we've still got those USO girls to worry about...what the hell?”

Glancing over to where his men had been about to heave the bodies of the dead Arvin into the holes they'd dug, Goldman had spotted a short, blonde girl watching the proceedings over the soldier's shoulders with every sign of deep interest.

“Miss Summers!” Goldman cried out in a loud voice, “I thought I gave orders for you to stay back at the clearing.”

“You did?” Buffy looked at Goldman and flashed him one of her most innocent smiles, “I never heard and I'm not in the army so you can't order me about, what happened here?”

“What?” Goldman didn't know what to say and seeing Anderson smirking didn't help either, “Look, while you're under my and my men's protection its probably best if you do what I say...”

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Myron sir!” Buffy gave Goldman a cheeky, mock, salute, “but you haven't said what happened here.”

Over the next few moments Goldman asked himself several questions, chief amongst which were; why him? How had this Californian valley-girl managed to sneak through the jungle without anyone spotting or hearing her; why wasn't she reacting badly to the sight of the dead and skinned men. If he didn't know better he'd say she'd seen something like this before. However, some not very satisfactory answers did come to Goldman's mind, namely, the world hated him. He remembered how Buffy had crept up behind him earlier so was it really so surprising that she'd got here without anyone noticing? But why wasn't she throwing up at the sight of all the bloody corpses?

“Hey,” Buffy walked over to join Goldman and Anderson, “I'll ask again and I really would appreciate an answer...what's going on?”

“Erm...” Anderson stepped forward with an explanation, “...these guys were ambushed by the VC...”

“And I'm guessing that they were the guys we were supposed to meet?” Buffy's smile faltered a little, “I'm also guessing from the way the pair of you look,” by now Buffy's smile had completely vanished and had been replaced by one of her more serious expressions, “that skinning and gutting people isn't normally in the VC handbook of fun things to do?”

“Erm...no,” Goldman confirmed.

“Okay...” Buffy drew out the word to give herself time to think; she knew there were a few demons that ate human skin and demons in general appeared to have a fixation about blood and guts, but she had no real idea what had done this, “...if the VC don't normally do this kinda thing...” Buffy paused as she looked from Anderson to Goldman, “...maybe it wasn't the VC?”

“Miss Summers has a point, L-t,” Anderson said slowly, “and there are some pretty primitive tribes up here in the hills.”

“Are you trying to tell me that people with spears did this to troops armed with modern weapons?” Goldman asked.

“I suppose if you put it like that it does kinda sound unlikely,” Anderson agreed reluctantly.

“Whatever,” Buffy butted in, “what do we do now?”

“You go back to the rest of your girls,” Goldman told her rather pointedly, “and don't wander off again.”

Buffy gave Goldman one of her very best 'angry chipmunk' looks which appeared to have no effect on him, in fact it made him smile!

“No sir, Lieutenant Myron sir!” Buffy growled in a low voice which only seemed to make Goldman smile all the harder.

“There's a village about a mile further along the trail,” Goldman grinned, “we're hoping they'll be friendlies there.”

“And if there's not?” Buffy wanted to know.

“We keep walking,” Goldman explained.

Seeing that she was not going to get anything else out of Goldman and his Sergeant, Buffy turned around and walked off down the track to where the main party were camped out.

“Feisty,” Anderson commented as he joined Goldman in watching Buffy's shapely butt disappear into the jungle.

“You think?” Goldman dragged his eyes away from Buffy silver clad rear to look at his sergeant.

“Sure,” Anderson nodded, “you'll make an interesting couple!”

After deploying his men at the edge of the jungle, Goldman lay down and started to study the village through his binoculars. The journey from the ambush sight to the village had been uneventful with no further sign of hostile action, until they came to the village. The village was a typical Vietnamese hill village with maybe a dozen family hootches and several less substantial hovels. There were the usual chickens and pigs rooting around the village between the little gardens, which were fenced off with sheets of corrugated iron, old US army crates as well as more traditional materials. A little river ran through the centre of the village with a bridge that would probably collapse under the weight of a jeep (or a large cow) connecting the two halves of the settlement. But of the villagers there was no sign.

“Where is everyone?” Goldman asked Anderson who was lying beside him watching the village through his own glasses.

“Maybe they're VC and they didi-ed outta here when they heard us coming,” Anderson suggested.

“Yeah maybe,” Goldman agreed, a noise from the rear distracted him and made him look away from the village, “what the hell is that!?”

Crouching under a large bush, Buffy found that she was surrounded by the huddled forms of the rest of the dance troupe. The girls weren't taking their little adventure in the Vietnamese jungle very well and who could blame them? Buffy wasn't exactly having loads of laughs but at least she was used to danger and she could rough it when necessary. After all she'd made it through 'Slayer-Fest' and there she'd had Cordelia to deal with as well as human and demonic assassins.

Sensing something malignant close by, Buffy moved slightly so she could get a better view into the jungle. Nothing unusual met her eye, if you discounted the jungle itself which from where she was sitting looked pretty unusual in itself. Moving so she was standing up, Buffy looked around the bush she and her girls were using for cover.

“What's wrong, Buffy?” Bunny asked once again sounding like a small frightened child.

“I don't know...” Buffy took a step out from behind the bush, “...maybe nothing...” she looked down into Bunny's frightened eyes, “...stay here I'm gonna look at something...”

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Chapter Text

6.

Pausing to listen as she moved stealthily through the jungle, Buffy strained her ears even closing her eyes so she could concentrate on the sounds being made by the jungle, she heard nothing. From what she'd read and from what she'd been told she knew that the jungle could be a noisy place. There should be bird calls and she should be able to hear small animals moving, but in this jungle there was an uneasy silence which she found more disturbing than the noise made by a thousand demons.

Opening her eyes again, Buffy took a moment to check the jungle looking for anything out of place, she saw nothing. Moving slowly and carefully so as not to make any more noise than she had to, she moved deeper into the forest. A noise from behind her made her freeze and turn her head to see what was there. Silhouetted against the light let into the jungle at its edge, she could just see a couple of Myron's soldier shifting position, they weren't coming after her so she dismissed them from her mind. Taking another cautious step, she heard something that made her freeze in place. Once again straining her ears she concentrated on that sound.

The noise she'd heard sounded as if it had come from her left-front, it was like an old metal light switch being clicked on followed by, what she could only describe as a soft 'whooshing' sound like... Well, she didn't know what it was like, but there was something else that she definitely did recognise, she could hear the sound of rapid nervous breathing; the sort of breathing you associated with frightened human beings.

Sacrificing a little stealth for speed, Buffy moved to her left and paused after a dozen or so steps. Yes, she smiled to herself, there was someone or something hiding behind the big tree which stood about two yards in front of her. Listening carefully again she got a fix on her target and took one more long, silent step towards the tree. The sound of breathing thundered in her ears now, almost blocking out all other sound. Shaking her head slightly to stop herself concentrating on her hearing and allowing her to use her other senses to their fullest degree, Buffy looked around the jungle one last time, good she told herself, nothing else here. Smiling just a little, Buffy pounced to her right.

Who or whatever was behind the tree heard the sound of Buffy moving, as she'd intended it to, it shifted its position so it could confront her as she came around the tree. But that wasn't Buffy's plan, moving with unnatural speed and agility, she changed direction and moved to her left before running around the tree to confront her foe.

The guy in the black pyjamas clutching his AK47 never got a chance to turn and shoot, he did however, have time to cry out in alarm as Buffy picked up the VC and threw him bodily against the tree he'd been using for cover. Struggling in her grasp the VC soldier tried to twist away from her so as to bring his rifle to bear. Crying out in fear and pain, the soldier had his rifle torn from his hands, Buffy was almost sure that she'd heard a couple of fingers break as the weapon was snatched from his grasp. By the way he started to wail and cry out, Buffy guessed he wouldn't be pulling any triggers for the next few weeks.

Holding the man by the back of his head as if she was trying to push his skull through the tree, Buffy caught hold of his left arm and twisted it up behind his back. This was how Lt Goldman, Sergeant Anderson and two or three other soldiers found her when they rushed over to find out what all the noise was about.

“What the hell's going on here?” Goldman demanded as his soldiers took up position to cover the VC that Buffy was still holding against the tree trunk.

“Erm...” Buffy needed to come up with a really good story and come up with it fast, “...I needed to pee so I was going behind this tree when I found this guy...” Buffy gave Goldman one of her best, innocent, California-girl smiles as she tightened her grip on the VC soldier to stop him taking advantage of a slightly distracted slayer. “He's a bad-guy right?” Buffy injected a little confusion into her words, hopefully Myron would put it all down to dumb-luck, “Do you want me to let him go?”

“Erm,” Goldman sighed as he shook his head in resignation, “you can let him go now, Miss Summers...” he turned to look at one of his soldiers, “...Teller you take charge of the prisoner and get him over to Tron, maybe he can tell us what happened to the villagers and that Arvin patrol.”

The soldier called Teller moved over to where Buffy held her prisoner and took hold of the VC's jacket.

“You can let go now, ma'am,” he said softly as he grinned and gave her a friendly wink.

Smiling at the soldier as he pulled the VC roughly away from the tree and started to push him towards the edge of the jungle, Buffy realised that the tale of her exploits would spread through the platoon like wildfire. Well, she smiled, it looked like she'd made at least one new friend, however the guy called Teller wasn't the friend she wanted. Smiling up at Myron, Buffy saw that he looked cross; crosser even than Giles had looked that time she'd ambushed him and pushed him into that ornamental fountain. The vision of Giles sitting in the water, coughing and spluttering with a lily-pad on his head still made her laugh.

“This is no time for smiling, Miss Summers,” Myron informed her.

“It isn't?” Buffy banished the picture of a soaking wet Giles from her mind and tried to concentrate on what Myron was saying, “but I did good right,” she gestured to where the VC soldier was being dragged off to talk to the mysterious 'Tron', “he's totally VC, right?”

“Yes he was but...” Myron didn't get much of a chance to carry on speaking because Buffy interrupted him before he could add anything.

“So,” Buffy smiled infectiously, “I totally got the bad-guy, so I say, 'Yay for me'!”

Anderson turned away and tried to stifle a laugh only to get a very black look from his officer before Goldman turned his annoyed gaze back on Buffy.

“Look, Miss Summers...”

“Buffy,” Buffy corrected.

“No, Miss Summers this is serious,” Goldman looked really angry now, “I know you think you can look after yourself, but this isn't California its Vietnam. There's a war going on and young women like yourself can't go around in the jungle sneaking up on VC all by themselves...”

“Why not?” Buffy asked as she contrived to look like a kicked puppy and a sad kitten all at the same time, “I mean I got the guy, what was I supposed to do, huh? Next time I need to pee should I ask one of your guys to come hold my hand?”

“Yes...” Goldman frowned, no that wasn't what he meant, “...I mean no...look...next time you need to...”

“Pee?” Buffy interjected helpfully.

“Answer a call of nature,” Goldman replied pointedly, “don't go so far and tell someone you're going...”

“I should raise my hand and totally ask for permission like I'm still in grade school, right?” Buffy knew she shouldn't goad Myron like this but she just couldn't help herself.

“No!” Goldman gave a heavy sign before he turned to the soldier who hadn't taken the prisoner back to the platoon, “Johnson, take Miss Summers back to the platoon and don't let her out of your sight...” Goldman seemed to think of something new at that very moment, “...in fact don't let her out of your sight until I say otherwise, okay?”

“On it Sir,” Johnson nodded before turning to Buffy and gesturing to where the rest of the platoon was waiting, “Ma'am?”

“Yeah, okay, I'll come quietly,” Buffy started to walk, shoulders hunched up, towards the platoon position, “I suppose if I don't he'll totally want to handcuff me or something.”

“No ma'am, I don't think the L-t would do that,” Johnson smiled, “'tween you an' me, I think you done good, ma'am.”

“You do?” Buffy gave Johnson a sunny smile, “Cool!”

Standing back at the tree and watching Buffy being led back to the platoon, Goldman checked out the area as Anderson picked up the VC's AK.

“Like I said L-t, feisty,” Anderson examined the AK before unloading it.

“Stupid more like,” Goldman growled.

“Oh come on L-t,” Anderson pleaded Buffy's case, “it all turned out for the best...”

“Yeah, but we could be standing here over the body of a dead cheerleader,” Goldman pointed out.

“I suppose you're right, L-t,” Anderson admitted with a sigh, “come on lets go see if Tron's got anything outta Miss Buffy's prisoner.”

“Miss Buffy's prisoner?” Goldman asked incredulously.

“Well, she did capture him single handed,” Anderson pointed out, “if it had been one of the guys you'd be telling him how well he'd done and maybe putting him in for a Bronze Star or something.”

Goldman gave his sergeant a dirty look before heading back towards the jungle's edge. Smiling to himself, Anderson followed behind his Lieutenant. He'd not gone more than a couple of paces when he stopped and looked behind him. He'd got a very strong feeling that he was being watched.

“What's up?” Goldman asked when he noticed that Anderson wasn't behind him.

“Oh...” Anderson turned and walked on towards where Goldman stood, “...probably nothing, L-t.”

“VC dinky dau!” Tron, the platoon's Kit Carson Scout, explain emphatically after questioning the prisoner for five minutes.

“Why?” Anderson asked; he wasn't sure he trusted Tron one-hundred percent.

Kit Carson Scouts were ex-VC or NVA who'd defected to the US-South Vietnamese side through the 'Chieu Hoi' program. After re-education some worked for the Americans as scouts and translators, Tron had only been with 'Bravo' company for a month and Anderson was still unsure of the man.

“He say demon come outta the jungle,” Tron explained, it was fairly obvious he didn't believe what he'd been told, “kill VC, NVA and drive off villagers...” Tron paused for a moment before repeating his earlier assessment, “...VC dinky dau!”

“Could be some Green Berets working in the area,” Anderson suggested, “that might explain the story about the demon.”

“And if there were Green Berets around, we'd be the last to be told about it,” Goldman pointed out tiredly.

“You got that right, L-t,” Anderson agreed; even after all the years the US Army had fought in Vietnam, the left hand still wasn't telling the right hand what it was doing.

“What does the prisoner say about VC-NVA numbers, Tron?” Goldman asked.

“Maybe a company,” Tron replied, “maybe more maybe less..like I say dinky dau!”

“Yeah right,” Goldman agreed, “you've got to be dinky dau to be here in the first place...”

“You're not wrong, L-t,” Anderson agreed with his officer once again, “so what do we do now?”

“Right, we can't stay here,” Goldman pulled his map from the big pocket on the leg of his fatigues, “we've still gotta get Miss Summers and her girls to safety.”

“Not forgetting us too,” Anderson pointed out as Goldman studied his map.

“Here,” Goldman pointed to a spot on his map with a dirty finger, “this is the village and there's a trail heading down the valley towards this ridgeline.”

Anderson studied the map and the route Goldman was suggesting, moving along the track could be dangerous. But, with the women in tow it would be easier and faster than trying to blaze a trail through the jungle.

“If we can get to the top of the ridge, we might be able to call Ladybird for dust off,” Goldman started to fold away his map.

“Sounds about the best plan, L-t,” Anderson started to push himself back to his feet.

“Glad to see you agree Sergeant,” Goldman grinned, “but first we'll sweep the village see if we can find anything...” Goldman noticed the doubtful look on Anderson's face, “...hey, we're here, we might as well.”

“You're the boss, L-t,” Anderson conceded.

“Okay lets get this show on the road,” Goldman climbed to his feet and started to get his platoon organised.

A search of the village turned up no VC, NVA or weapons. They did, however, find some food caches and the entrances to several tunnels. After throwing grenades into the tunnels, Goldman ordered the food and the hootches burnt. It was only as the fire took hold of the straw houses that Goldman discovered that one of his men from his second squad, a PFC Hodges was missing.

“Where the hell is he?” Goldman demanded as Hodges' squad mates searched around everywhere they'd been in the hopes of finding their buddy.

“No tracks, no blood trail,” Anderson explained as the rain started to fall, “its like he just vanished.”

“No one saw him walk off?” Goldman asked as the rain started to drip from his helmet.

“No sir,” Anderson shook his head sending droplets of rain flying as he did so, “erm, L-t, this rain is going to wash out any tracks before too long.”

“I know,” Goldman looked around as the rain got heavier and beat loudly against his helmet; he wasn't looking forward to the order he was going to have to give. “Look I can't risk the rest of the platoon and the women for just one man, if Miss Summers and her girls weren't here I'd stay, but...”

“I know, L-t,” Anderson nodded, “it's a hard call but I think its the right one.”

“Look, once we've got rid of the women, we'll get some fresh batteries for the radio and come back to look for Hodges,” Goldman explained, “I mean we found Baker when he wandered off into the bush looking for his brother so we stand a good chance of finding Hodges.”

“Hey, L-t, I'm convinced,” Anderson said loud enough for the men standing nearby to hear, he wanted to let everyone know that he supported the L-t's decision.

“I'm just convincing myself,” Goldman admitted in a voice only Anderson would hear, “Okay,” he said so everyone could hear over the rain, “lets move out.”

Walking under the trees did little to shelter Buffy from the rain, in fact in a way it made it worse as the water came down in big soaking drops having been collected on the leaves of the trees and bushes before continuing its journey to the sodden ground. Not that it bothered Buffy that much, she was already soaked to the skin and her hair was plastered to her head. Well, she tried to look on the bright side, at least the rain was warm, if she had some soap she could have taken a shower. Finding herself walking next to Sergeant Anderson she looked up at the man. The rain dripped off his helmet and onto his already wet clothes.

“Well, at least your head's dry,” Buffy observed.

“How you doing down there, ma'am,” Anderson smiled down at her.

“If you turn around and I'm not there, just some bubbles in the water, totally pull me out would you?” Buffy pleaded.

“Be my pleasure, ma'am,” Anderson came to a halt about a second after Buffy did.

Standing on the trail in the rain, they both looked back down the track towards the village.

“You feel it too, don't you?” Buffy asked quietly as the soldiers of the platoon walked on by.

“That feeling you get when someone's following you, you mean?”

“That's the one,” Buffy admitted.

“Time to haul-ass outta here, if you don't mind me saying, ma'am,” Anderson started to turn away to follow the rest of the platoon along the track.

“Right behind you...” Buffy stopped talking when she noticed the three small dots of red light forming a triangle resting right between Anderson's shoulder blades.

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Chapter Text

7.

Pushing Anderson out of the way, Buffy heard a 'swish-crack' like sound and felt something hot go by her face. An instant later whatever it was blew a hole in the bare earth of the track, hitting the dirt she watched the hole as it steamed and smoked right next to her. Looking up to try and work out where the fire was coming from, she heard rifles and machine-guns start to fire at suspected enemy positions while Lt Goldman yelled orders and the platoon started to deploy to counter the unseen threat.

Deciding that she was too exposed lying out there on the track, Buffy crawled over to the side of the trail and slithered behind a substantial tree trunk. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she risked a look around the tree in the hopes of finding out what was going on. The sound of small arms fire drowned out the sound of the rain that still fell with unabated ferocity on her piece of jungle. Looking towards where most of the fire was directed, Buffy could sense nothing there, however the platoon's fire was doing a good job of blasting the jungle to wood pulp.

Catching a glimpse of movement over to her right, Buffy shifted her gaze to see...to see...nothing? Maybe something, a shimmer of something, perhaps a branch moving when it shouldn't. Whatever it was it soon vanished again. Thinking she was seeing things, maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the fact that she'd died once and almost died several more times in the last forty-eight hours, perhaps it was just fatigue; even slayers needed to sleep. Whatever, she told herself that she was seeing things, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it of some of the weariness that threatened to overtake her mind, Buffy opened her eyes just in time to see a painfully bright ball of light streak from out of the bush near where she'd been looking. The light flashed towards where the American soldiers had taken up position and struck a man, blasting him into the air as it hit home.

The platoon's fire seemed to increase in intensity as it switched targets to the new threat. Again, Buffy saw pieces of tree and bush fly into the air as the platoon's bullets ripped through the undergrowth. Again she saw the strange shimmering shape move, this time it moved up into the trees letting the bullets pass harmlessly beneath it.

“IT'S IN THE TREES!” Buffy cried urgently as she pointed to whatever she was sure was attacking the platoon.

Either no one believed her or none of the soldiers heard her because no one fired at the shimmer allowing it to fire off two or three more of its bright balls of light before it withdrew. The platoon continued to fire for fifteen or twenty seconds more before eventually stopping. As silence returned to the jungle, Buffy's battered ears started to hear calls for the unit's medic. Coming out from behind her tree, she stood on the trail and studied the jungle as more rain fell on her and soaked her just a little more.

“Get down, ma'am!”

Buffy recognised Sergeant Anderson's voice calling from somewhere over to her left.

“It's okay,” Buffy called back softly, “it's gone...for now.”

“What do you mean 'it'?” suddenly Anderson was at her side and pulling her towards the shelter of the trees.

“It,” Buffy shrugged, “whatever 'it' was that attacked us its gone, but I'm betting it'll be back soon, probably tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Anderson gave Buffy a searching look, he no doubt thought she'd hit her head again and was rambling, “We've been hit by a VC ambush there's no mystery there.”

“L-t!” came a call from a few yards behind where Buffy and Anderson stood, “Sarge! You better come and look at this.”

Turning to face the voice, Buffy saw it came from the medic, he was kneeling over the still form of a soldier lying under a tree. Following Anderson over, she found herself looking down at the body of the dead soldier who had an enormous hole in his chest. It took Buffy a moment to realise what was wrong with the wound, there was hardly any blood. The wound had been neatly cauterised by whatever had hit the man. Joining the group around the body, Goldman asked the question that everyone had been waiting for someone else to ask.

“What the hell?” Goldman knelt down next to the body of his trooper.

“Never seen anything like it before, L-t,” Anderson admitted.

“Look, L-t,” Matsuda, the platoon's medic pointed to the wound, “it goes right through his body, cauterised all the way through.”

Buffy looked at the dead man, he had an almost comical look of surprise frozen on his face, but she knew this was no laughing matter.

“Okay,” Goldman climbed to his feet and looked at the medic, “you know what to do, wrap him in his poncho and hide him in the bush, we'll have to leave him here and send someone back to collect his body.” Turning to Anderson, he started to give orders, “Sweep through this area, with all the fire we put down we must have hit something, look out for blood tails, you know the drill.”

“Yes sir,” Anderson was just turning away when he was brought up short by Buffy's voice.

“You won't find anything.”

“What?” Goldman turned to look at Buffy, “Miss Summers I really don't think...”

“You won't find anything because this wasn't the VC or the NVA or whatever,” Buffy explained, “you'll not find any bodies or blood trails because none of you hit anything because you were all shooting in the wrong direction.”

“Wrong direction?” Goldman frowned down at Buffy all the time wondering who the hell she thought she was, “I really think you need to stop these wild stories and go and check on your people.”

“It was in the trees,” Buffy replied flatly, “and you couldn't see it because it's invisible, or nearly so.”

“Invisible?” Goldman didn't believe a word of what Buffy was saying and why should he? “Oh come on Miss Summers, next you'll be telling me that we were attacked by a Martian or something.”

“Well,” Buffy gave Goldman a mirthless smile, “when you find no tracks and no blood trails, you can find me with my girls,” Buffy took a step or two away from Goldman before she paused and turned to look at him again, “And another thing Myron,” she gestured to the corpse of the dead soldier, “since when have the VC been using ray guns?”

“Nothing,” Anderson reported after coming back from beating the bush, “no blood trails, no bodies, no nothing, I'm beginning to think Miss Summers is right.”

“What? That we were attacked by a Martian?” Goldman scoffed, as they moved on down the trail away from the ambush site before halting again.

“Look, L-t,” Anderson shrugged resignedly, “you've gotta admit something weird's going down out here, and Buffy did push me outta the way of that first shot.”

“She did?” Goldman glanced over to see Buffy sitting under a tree with the other three dancers, “Maybe she did see something...but, invisible Martians?”

“I know L-t, like I say 'weird',” Anderson shrugged, he had no answers.

“Okay,” Goldman produced his map from his pocket and as he crouched down to spread it on the jungle floor, “invisible Martians or not, we've still got to get outta here.”

“The ridgeline still looks like the best bet,” Anderson said as he pointed to the map.

“Yeah, but...” Goldman glanced over to where Buffy and 'her' girls sat, “...it's a long hard climb and I'm wondering if the women can make it.”

“Well, L-t,” Anderson looked at his platoon leader, “I betting that Buffy's pretty tough she'll keep the other's going.”

“I'm not so sure,” Goldman admitted, “yeah, okay Miss Summers seems to be able to take everything that's thrown at her, but the others look pretty beat up to me.”

“Okay, L-t,” Anderson moved the map so he could get a better look at it, “now let me have a...here!” Anderson pointed at the map, “If we go up this re-entrant it'll lead us to the ridgeline just the same and its an easier climb.”

“Its also a longer route,” Goldman pointed out.

“Yeah sure,” Anderson agreed, “but I'm betting we'll make better time, what d'ya say L-t?”

Studying the map for a full minute, Goldman had to agree, Anderson was probably right. The climb looked easier and the chances were they'd actually make better time. Glancing at the dancers again, Goldman saw some of his men share their rations and water with the women. However the girls still looked beat, they couldn't manage a hard climb, except perhaps Buffy. Okay, she didn't exactly look fresh as a daisy, but she didn't appear to be any more tired than the men of the platoon. Smiling, Goldman got the feeling that Buffy would walk bare foot over broken glass to get to where she needed to be.

“Okay,” Goldman said after a few moments more, “we'll try your route Sergeant.”

“I'll get the guys organised,” Anderson started to get up but was held back by Goldman

“What do you think about what Miss Summers said,” Goldman smiled weakly slightly embarrassed by what he was going to suggest, “you know about the Invisible Martian?”

“Can't say L-t,” Anderson replied with typical NCO reticence, “but like I say we found nothing. Okay, it could have been a bunch of VC that got lucky and had a ray gun with them or...”

“Or Miss Summers is right and we've being stalked by Marvin the Martian,” Goldman sighed heavily.

“An Invisible Martian, L-t,” Anderson grinned, “remember its invisible!”

“When are we going home, Buffy?” Bunny asked, almost pleading; she looked dead on her feet, the fact that she was cold, wet and filthy didn't help either.

“Soon,” Buffy tried to sound sympathetic, but she wasn't feeling exactly 'chipper' herself; the rain beat on her head even here under the trees and like everyone else she was wet, hungry and the continual rain was sapping her body heat even if the water itself was warm.

“I don't know why the army guys can't just call up a chopper to take us out of here,” Betty sulked.

“I've told you,” Buffy sighed heavily, “their radio doesn't work properly and they can't call anyone until we get up high.”

“You mean we've got to climb outta here?” Bella asked wearily.

“Looks like,” Buffy admitted, “look guys, we've got to hang in there because...” Buffy paused to try and think, because what?, “...well, because there isn't an alternative. We can't stay here because the VC will grab us,” or whatever attacked us, she thought but didn't say, “so we've got to...to...”

Movement in the bushes distracted Buffy from what she was about to say. Forgetting about the girls who were still waiting for her to finish her sentence, Buffy moved slowly towards the bush. Almost able to feel a presence, she paused to study the undergrowth closely. A branch moving seemingly by itself causing Buffy to look slightly further to her right. There was something there, she told herself, she'd seen that strange shimmering thing again. Now she had something to latch onto, she took a couple of steps towards where she thought whatever it was was standing.

As she moved a gust of wind moved the branches of the trees above her causing an extra heavy deluge of rain to land on and around her. Shivering as the water made its way easily through her already soaked clothes to chill her skin even more than it was, Buffy saw the strangest thing. Blue sparks appeared to be dancing about in mid-air near where she'd last sensed the shimmering shape. Blinking her eyes, Buffy didn't really believe what her eyes were telling her. There, not five yards away, stood the biggest, meanest looking demon that she'd seen in a very long time.

The demon seemed to be equally surprised by the blue sparks that were dancing like little flames across its body. Unusually for most demons this one was wearing a helmet that completely covered its face, it also had what looked like equipment like she'd seen the soldiers carrying but different. However, and probably most importantly, the demon had weapons, lots of weapons although Buffy didn't recognise what they were, the slayer in her told her they were weapons and that was good enough for Buffy.

With a yell that caused the demon to look right at her, Buffy sprinted towards the creature, when she was only a couple of yards away she jumped. Landing a double footed drop kick squarely on the demon';s chest, Buffy really expected him to go down, but he didn't. He staggered back a couple of paces and almost fell down but he managed to keep his balance, just. Rebounding off the demon's chest, Buffy landed on the jungle floor, rolled and bounced back to her feet. Charging at the creature again she aimed a side kick at its knee while she raised her arm to parry the blow the demon had aimed at her head. Her kick and the demons arm hit at about the same time, the demon roared in pain as its knee gave way. Buffy's arm connected with the demon's arm and she found herself being swept to one side almost as if the demon didn't want to fight her. Again rolling across the jungle floor, Buffy once again bounced to her feet and stood at bay ready to renew her attack on the monster.

By now other people had noticed what was going on and there was a lot of shouting as men ran to confront the demon. Gunfire shattered the jungle once again and bullets struck the demon or cut up the vegetation behind and to either side of it. Diving for cover, Buffy looked up just in time to see something on the demon's left shoulder move with almost mechanical precision. Gasping in surprise, Buffy realised that it was something mechanical, that it was was some kind of gun. Her worst fears were confirmed as she heard the same 'swish-crack' noise that she'd heard before. With each 'swish-crack' a blindingly bright ball of energy was projected from the weapon's maw to streak through the air towards the soldiers who were firing at the demon.

A soldier was hit and was blown off his feet as a cloud of white smoke enveloped his chest. The firing from the soldiers died down for a moment as they dived for cover. The demon kept firing his gun as he turned back towards the jungle. As he moved the strange gun kept pointing towards the human soldiers and kept up a steady fire but didn't hit anyone else. Almost as soon as the fight had begun it ended. The human gunfire died out as the soldiers realised they weren't being shot at anymore. Seconds later, Buffy found herself being pulled to her feet by an extremely agitated Myron Goldman.

“What the hell's going on here?” Goldman demanded, “What was that thing?”

“That,” Buffy replied as she pulled her arm free from Goldman's grasp, “was your Invisible Martian!” Something splattered across a leaf and attracted Buffy's attention, it was bright green and it seemed to glow in the dim light under the trees, walking over to the splash of green she lifted the leaf for Goldman to see, “And this time you hit it,” she smiled at the stunned young officer, “if it bleeds we can kill it!”

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Chapter Text

8.

It was starting to get dark under the trees, Goldman had moved the platoon well away from the ambush site after the second attack by the 'Martian'. They'd moved further up the trail towards their ultimate goal, but there was now no way that they were going to reach the ridgeline tonight.

“Looks like we're gonna have to camp out for another night, L-t,” Sergeant Anderson said as he walked over to join Goldman as he stood at the side of the track watching his men trudge by.

“I guess you're right, Sergeant,” Goldman admitted after a moments hesitation, “I was hoping to get up on the ridge today, but...”

“Not your fault, L-t,” Anderson replied quietly, “no one woulda guessed we'd pick up a dance troupe and be attacked by a Martian.”

“Yeah,” Goldman admitted, “that's gonna look real good in my after action report.”

“Look, L-t,” Anderson continued in a hushed tone, “no one could blame you for what's gone down here...now we better find a place to fort up for the night before it gets too dark.”

“You're right,” Goldman agreed, “there looks like there's a rise to the left of the track up a head, it looks like as good a place as any.”

“Then we better move out before the platoon walks right passed it,” Anderson gestured for Goldman to lead the way to the front of the platoon.

Stepping back onto the trail, Goldman and Anderson made their way to the front of the column. Luckily the platoon hadn't reached the spot Goldman had chosen from his map, there was indeed a small hill to the left of the track. The track itself went around the right side of the hill, so they'd be able to see or hear any VC or NVA that might be using it in the dark. The hill itself rose no more than twenty or thirty feet above the level of the track, it hardly warranted the name 'hill' but it was better than nothing.

“It'll have to do,” Goldman pointed out as he brought the rest of the platoon to a halt as he turned to face Anderson. “I want the place mined with everything we've got, claymores, flares, tripwires, use grenades in C-rat tins if you have to...”

“Sure thing L-t,” Anderson nodded, “we've not got much, y'know we weren't expecting anything like this to happen.”

“Who was?” Goldman forced a smile, “Do what you can before it gets dark, have the men dig fighting holes, pile up wood and rocks if they can't. Get everyone to eat the last of their C-rats and then I want a fifty percent guard.”

“Understood, L-t,” Anderson nodded, “and hey, L-t...”

“What?”

“At least its stopped raining!”

By a mixture of using threats and pushing and pulling, Buffy got her three charges up the steep slope to the top of little hill where it looked like they were going to spend the night. As soon as the girls came to a halt they slumped to the ground, lay down and fell asleep.

“No you don't,” Buffy pulled on arms and once or twice resorted to kicking the recombinant dancers until they woke up, “on your feet, no one goes to sleep until I find out what's happening and hopefully got us something to eat and drink.”

“Leave us a lone, Buffy,” Bella groaned, “I wanna die...”

“Right!” Buffy hissed in a loud whisper, “An' you'll get your wish if you don't keep your voice down...now stay here and wait until I come back and no one sits down, right?”

There was a collective groan from the girls which Buffy took as acquiescence, turning away from the troupe she headed off into the gloom in search of Goldman. No sooner had Buffy turned her back on the dancers than they all slumped to the ground again and started to snore. Finding Myron Goldman wasn't too hard for Buffy, after all it was only a small hill and she could see in the dark, even if it wasn't quite pitch black yet. As she walked, Buffy looked around to see the soldiers digging and setting up what might be traps, she wasn't sure but her instincts were telling her it would be the most sensible thing to do.

“Myron?” Buffy called softly as she came to a spot where she could hear him scraping a hole in the ground; seeing him jump at her unexpected appearance, she smiled a little.

“Miss Summers!” Goldman gasped in surprise as he stood up to greet her, “What...hell you'd make a great commando, where did you learn to move like that again?”

“Like I say,” Buffy smiled up into his tired face, “it's my natural grace as a dancer and would you totally start calling me Buffy.”

“But...” Goldman hesitated.

“Its the name itself isn't it?” Buffy asked, “Look I'm really not as big an airhead as my name makes me sound or how I sometimes act.”

“Okay, Buffy” Goldman smiled and once again Buffy thought how handsome he was, “what can I do for you as you can see we're all a little busy.”

“I get that,” Buffy agreed, “but I've got to look after my girls, has anyone got any spare food, maybe some blankets?”

“L-t, Buffy,” Sergeant Anderson appeared out of the gloom, “I heard that, I'll see what I can scare up.”

“Thanks,” Buffy called quietly as she watched the man walk over to the nearest group of soldiers, she turned back to look at Myron again, “he's very good isn't he?”

“Sure,” Goldman went back to scraping a hole in the dirt for himself, “we got off to a kinda shaky start but...” Goldman's entrenching tool clanged against some thing in his hole, “...damn-it! A stone!”

“Here let me see,” Buffy pushed passed Goldman until she could see what was wrong; sure enough there was a large stone preventing further excavation.

Reaching down, Buffy got her fingers under the edge of the stone, heaved it out of the hole and pushed it to one side, when she'd finished she found Goldman giving her a searching look.

“Not only am I graceful,” Buffy smiled in what she hoped was both an alluring and innocent way, “but I'm also stronger than I look...do you ever get time off?”

“W-what? Time off?” Goldman was confused by the sudden change of topic, exactly as Buffy had intended so it would deflect any questions about her unnatural strength.

“Yeah, time off,” Buffy smiled hopefully, even covered in sweat and mud, Goldman was still easy on her eyes, “I mean you can't do this,” she gestured to the jungle, “all the time.”

“Get R and R, from time to time,” Goldman admitted as he went back to digging.

“Cool, wanna hang out next time you get a little time off?” Buffy asked him brightly.

“Hang out?” Goldman paused in his digging as he looked up at Buffy.

“You know,” Buffy shrugged and tried to look innocent, while at the same time idly playing with the neck of her army shirt exposing a little more dirt smeared skin as she did so, “maybe go out together...like, you know, a date?”

“L-t, Buffy,” Sergeant Anderson reappearance prevented Goldman from having to give Buffy an answer straight away.

“I got a few tins of rats...”

“Rats! Eww!” Buffy squeaked but remembered to keep her voice down.

“C-Rations,” Anderson explained as he handed Buffy four tins, a can opener and a handful of plastic spoons, “Sorry its the best I can do...”

“Better than nothing sergeant,” Buffy replied as she received the tins gratefully.

“Only got two spare ponchos, y'all gonna have to snuggle up together,” Anderson handed over the two rolled up ponchos.

“We'll manage,” Buffy said as she took the ponchos from Anderson's hands, “and thank your guys for me an' the girls...” Buffy sighed as she collected her things together and stood up, “...I better get these to my guys.”

Watching Buffy as she went, Goldman had to admit that going on a date with Buffy the next time he got some R&R wouldn't be the worst idea he'd ever had.

“L-t?” Anderson asked when he noticed his officers faraway look, he glanced over his shoulder following Goldman's gaze until it came to rest on Buffy's butt. “Mind on the job, L-t,” he warned, “keep you mind on the now or you'll not be able to take that little girl out.”

“Yeah, right,” Goldman blinked and brought himself back to the damp hill in Vietnam from the warm beach he'd been sharing with one cute, blonde, California girl. “Report, Sergeant.”

“Men are dug in as best we can, we've got the perimeter covered with trip flares and claymores backed up by booby traps,” Anderson explained, “men are fed and as alert as you're gonna get 'em...everyone's tired, L-t.”

“Yeah I know,” Goldman admitted as he gave up trying to dig down any more into the wet earth, “what do you think our chances are if that thing comes back tonight?”

“We'll kick its ass, L-t,” Anderson shrugged his gesture lost in the now almost complete darkness.

“Or die trying,” Goldman admitted, “Look you take a couple of hours I'll stand watch until,” Goldman squinted at his watch, “twenty-two hundred...”

“Okay, L-t, I won't argue with you,” Anderson made ready to go back to his own hole, “just don't drift off thinking about certain girls called Buffy.”

Once again slayer night vision enabled Buffy to find her way back to where her girls were sleeping, standing over the exhausted young women, Buffy sighed and decided it was pointless waking them up again. Instead she put the tins of food down by the base of a tree and covered up the tree girls as best she could with one of the ponchos. At least they were all lying together so once she'd got them covered their body heat should keep them warm. After tucking the girls in, Buffy chose a spot for herself. Putting the poncho on the ground she sat down on top of it. Just as she was about to lie down and cover herself with the other half of the poncho, she heard something coming out of the bush just down slope from the platoon's position.

Sitting up, now totally alert, Buffy strained her ears to get a better fix on the sound, it was very faint and she doubted anyone else would have heard it. The noise was a strange, breathy clicking sound a little like the clicking noise that dolphins made when they used their echo location. Getting up into a squatting position Buffy turned as she searched the trees all around the hill top. The 'Martian' had used the trees before so if, as she suspected, its invisibility thing was broken it might try the same trick again. Sweeping the trees using both her eyes and ears, Buffy got the same picture as she had when she'd been back in Sunnydale. The same washed out colours the certain lack of depth perception that was her night vision, in a grave yard it didn't matter so much because she could gauge distance from the size of things around her target, but out here in the unfamiliar jungle it was a different matter.

The sound of a branch snapping behind her made Buffy turn and look up into the top of a tree, because of the slope of the hill the tree top was almost on the same level as herself. What she saw almost made her laugh out loud. The 'Martian' had been using the trees to sneak up on the platoon, only this time when it swung from branch to branch, like some weird alien Tarzan, one of the branches had snapped under its weight and the creature was falling through the tree apparently hitting every branch on its way down.

“LOOK OUT!” Buffy yelled and pointed, a split second before every weapon in the platoon started to fire.

Claymores exploded the sound of their detonation added itself to the crackle of small arms fire from around the perimeter. Flares popped to light the jungle with an eerie white light making the shadows dance in their glare. Muzzle flashes strobed making the top of the hill seem like some hellish disco club. All this noise beat on Buffy's sensitive ears, making her wince but it didn't stop her from heading over to the side of the hill where she'd seen the 'Martian' fall.

“CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!” Buffy heard both Myron's and Sergeant Anderson's voices yell over the sound of all the gunfire.

Slowly the platoon's fire faded away and silence returned to the jungle broken only by the hiss and fizz of the trip flares as they slowly guttered out. Running over to where Myron stood, Buffy looked into the darkness.

“Did we get it?” Buffy wanted to know.

“I don't...” Goldman looked around in surprise to see Buffy standing next to him, “...Buffy! Get down...”

“Look!” Buffy pointed into the darkness, there on the ground and on several tree trunks was the alien's bright, green, glowing blood, “We got it!” she cheered, “But its still alive we've got to finish it off!”

“No, Buffy let...!” before Goldman was able to finish speaking, Buffy had grabbed hold of the hilt of his bayonet and pulled it from its scabbard, “NO!” he yelled realising what she intended to do, “WAIT!”

Watching helplessly as Buffy ran off into the dark, Goldman had to come to a very quick decision, one he found surprisingly easy to make.

“Sergeant Anderson you're in command,” Goldman called to his startled platoon sergeant, “Johnson, Taylor, Percell...follow me!”

Running on almost silent feet through the jungle, Buffy followed the monster easily, its blood gave away its trail so that even a non-slayer could have followed it. The alien or whatever it was was, was badly wounded and Buffy knew from experience that a wounded monster was an extra dangerous monster. Dodging between the trees, Buffy could sense that she was close, any second now she'd come face to face with the creature who'd been hunting the platoon. Jumping over a fallen tree trunk, she skidded to a halt almost losing her balance and falling as she did so.

Turning with inhuman speed to confront the creature, Buffy saw it sitting with its back against the trunk of a fallen tree. The Martian looked up at her obviously surprised to be found so quickly and no doubt a little confused by the size of the creature that had found it. The creature was even more surprised when, with a shout, Buffy threw herself at it. However, the Martian was still capable of resistance, it batted her first attack away easily with its arm. Throwing herself backwards at the last second to avoid the knife blades that appeared to have sprung from the back of the creatures hand, Buffy was able to avoid the worst of the blow. Rolling and coming to her feet again she discovered that two long slits had been cut in the front of her borrowed army shirt and there were thin streaks of blood trickling from wounds in her stomach. Renewing her attack by leaping at the creature once again, she held her purloined bayonet high in her small fist.

Distracted by trying to do something with a piece of equipment on its left forearm the alien was unprepared for Buffy's second attack, Landing astride the creature, Buffy raised the bayonet in both her hands and brought it down with unstoppable force, she watched as the point of the bayonet entered the creature's chest as its strange glowing blood spurted out in all directions. The monster roared in a mixture of rage and pain as Buffy hammered at its chest with the bayonet the weapon rising and falling time after time. Glowing green alien blood squirted in all directions as she stabbed the creature again and again. Eventually after what seemed like an eternity the creature stopped roaring and trying to strike at her as she sat on its stomach. Her hands, face chest and her forearms were covered in glowing, green blood. There was blood all over the surrounding vegetation, the creature was most definitely dead.

“Yay me!” Buffy groaned as she climbed off the creature and got to her feet, she looked down at herself and saw all the blood, “EWWW!” she cried, adding, “Why does it never rain when you want it to?”

A crashing sound coming through the jungle, making her turn and ready her bayonet to defend herself, it would just be her luck to be attacked by a bunch of wandering VC. But she wasn't, it was Myron at the head of a few of his men who were making all the noise.

“I better think up a good story,” Buffy told herself as the soldiers burst out of the bush and stood staring at her in the light of the alien's blood.

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Chapter Text

9.

“So, what do I do now?” Goldman asked his platoon sergeant the following morning as they stood together on the crest of the ridge over looking the valley they'd just fought their way out of.

After the battle with the Martian, Goldman had called Sergeant Anderson down to take a look at the beast. The two men had looked from the monster to Buffy and back again. They were both asking themselves the same question; how could a tiny woman like Buffy kill a creature that was nearly twice her height and probably weighed three or four times what she did? They got around this question by not asking it, they got around the question of what to do with the monster in a much more spectacular way.

Using a couple of white phosphorous grenades and some C4 explosive they blew the creature and all its equipment to kingdom come. While the fireworks caused by the Martian's final destruction was pretty breath taking it had also probably alerted every VC or NVA unit in the valley to their presence, it was time to move on.

Getting back to the platoon position, Buffy noticed several things; first off Myron, Sergeant Anderson and the three soldiers who'd seen her and the monster weren't talking about it. In fact the story was being put out that they'd been attacked by the VC. Secondly, Myron kept giving her 'odd' looks, the sort of looks that said he'd seen more than he was letting on. Thirdly and finally, somehow Bunny, Bella and Betty had slept right through the 'VC attack' and were in fact still sleeping like the dead under their borrowed poncho.

After several attempts and having almost been reduced to kicking the girls awake, Buffy finally got them on their feet and moving. After getting them to eat the C-rations she'd been given the previous night and drinking some water, she'd had them roll up the ponchos and carry them. Of course in the time it had taken her to get the girls moving the rest of the platoon was up, packed and ready to go.

Moving through the dark forest, Buffy was alive to the possible threats all around her. Like; could there be another of those things out there? Could the VC be lying in wait for them just around the next bend in the track? Was she in deep trouble and maybe the time had come for her to disappear into the jungle never to be seen again? This last looked pretty good to Buffy, she wouldn't have to explain who or what she was, particularly when people who knew the real 'Buffy Summers' from this time and reality found out she wasn't who she said she was. As it turned out Buffy never had to answer any of these questions, thanks in the main to the VC.

Walking along the trail, somewhere in the middle of the column, Buffy started to get the strongest of feelings that the platoon were walking into a trap. Telling her girls to stay where they were, Buffy made her way to the front of the long line of men to where Myron walked. Taping him on the shoulder Buffy smiled once again as the poor guy almost jumped out on his skin at her touch. Telling herself that if she expected to get him to take her on a date she'd have to stop making him jump like that, it probably wasn't doing his heart any good.

“Myron,” Buffy said in a loud whisper; she'd never been very good at this 'covert' stuff the military went in for, yeah she could be sneaky but this covert crap, not so much.

“Buffy!” Myron made a great effort not to shout her name out loud, “what are doing up here? I told you to...”

“Yeah, right, whatever,” Buffy replied dismissing Myron's concerns with a wave of her hand, “don't ask me how I know, but we're walking into an ambush.”

“An ambush?” Myron asked; he was just about to ask her how she knew when he remembered she'd asked him not to, next he remembered seeing Buffy sitting astride the dead alien, covered in its blood and with his bayonet clutched in her small hands. “okay,” Myron asked slowly, “where?”

After telling Sergeant Anderson to take command of the rest of the platoon, Goldman took his first squad on a wide out flanking move that fifteen or twenty minutes later found them behind the VC ambush. There was a short, vicious and thankfully one sided firefight that left half a dozen VC dead and another four or five running for their lives through the bush.

“So what do I do?” Myron repeated as he and Anderson looked out over the valley that looked so peaceful under its covering of trees, blue sky and fluffy white clouds.

“Do about what, L-t?” Anderson asked innocently, “I mean you led the platoon out of trouble when we were cut off. We rescued those dancers and killed a lot of VC, I'm thinking you should be in for some sort of citation...”

“No I mean that Martian, or whatever it was,” Myron searched the sky to the south and west, the choppers would be here soon; Horn, his RTO, had managed to get through to Firebase Ladybird and help was on its way.

“What Martian?” Anderson shrugged, “I didn't see no Martian and neither did Johnson, Taylor or Percell and neither did anyone else in the platoon.”

“What?” Goldman held his voice down to normal levels even though he wanted to shout the question out loud.

“Seems to me, you and the guys tracked down a VC sapper squad and took them out,” Anderson smiled conspiratorially at his officer, “why spoil a good after action report with tails about Martians? You know as well as I do that stories like that can cause no end of grief for up and coming Lieutenants and their long suffering platoon sergeants.”

“Yeah,” Goldman agreed after a moment's thought, “I wouldn't want to make my platoon sergeant's life any harder than it is...but...”

“But?”

“What do I say about Buffy's part in all this?” Goldman glanced over to where Buffy sat with her girls.

“Personally Sir, if you were to ask me...”

“I'm asking Sergeant,” Goldman said with a half smile.

“I'd say Miss Summers held it together under extremely trying circumstances,” Anderson almost sounded like he was actually reading Lt Goldman's after action report, “she kept her girls moving and showed unexpected leadership qualities while keeping up the moral of the platoon by her selfless actions...”

“Selfless actions?” Goldman asked.

“Hey L-t,” Anderson shrugged, “you know the sort of thing to say...like, she spotted that VC ambush before we walked into because she'd been in the Girl Scouts or something and seen something outta place...come on L-t use your imagination.”

“Lie you mean?” Goldman quieried.

“I wouldn't say 'lie' so much as bend the truth,” Anderson looked hopefully at Goldman willing him to make the decision that would have them all coming out of this, if not smelling of roses, then at least smelling a lot better than they did at the moment.

“Okay,” Goldman nodded, “you make sure the guys have got their stories straight, right?”

“No problem there, L-t.”

“...and I'll talk to Buffy.”

“Miss Summers?” Goldman called as he walked over to where Buffy sat on the ground with her three surviving dancers.

“Oh crap,” Buffy sighed as she climbed to her feet, “this sounds bad and I'd just got you to call me Buffy.”

“We need to talk,” Goldman led Buffy out of ear shot of her friends.

“Okay, tell me how much trouble I'm in,” Buffy sighed and started to wish she'd quietly disappeared the night before.

“Who...” Myron struggled to find the right words, “...what are you?”

“Just a girl,” was it only a couple of days ago she'd been asked the self same question by a vamp and she'd given him the self same answer?

“No,” Myron shook his head, “I saw what you did to that thing, you really wailed on that...that...whatever it was, so who are you?”

“Y'know how in all the horror films the monster chases after the pretty, blonde, girl and cuts her up into little pieces?” Buffy asked resignedly.

“Uh-huh,” Myron nodded, all the time wondering where Buffy was going with this.

“Well,” Buffy sighed heavily, “I'm the pretty...you do think I'm pretty, right?” Myron nodded, “Okay, whatever, I'm the pretty, blonde girl that the monsters run away from...”

“Really?” Myron said slowly as he eyed the girl in front of him and wondered if she was telling him the truth, after only a few seconds he decided that it might be fun finding out. “Okay, this is what really happened...”

“Huh?” Buffy had really expected more questions, but this was good.

“I'm going to write a glowing report about you,” Myron explained, “how you held it together and how you were an asset to the platoon, but...”

“But?” here it comes thought Buffy.

“There was no 'Martians' or monsters that you didn't kill because they weren't there for you to kill, you got that?”

“I-I think so,” Buffy replied slightly puzzled, perhaps things would turn out for the best after all.

“When we get back to Ladybird...” Myron began but was interrupted by a soft giggle from Buffy.

“Ladybird...stupid name!”

“Whatever,” Myron continued, “when we get there you and your guys will be sent on up the line pretty quickly and we won't get much of a chance to talk again. So, just keep your story to the bare minimum, right?” Myron waited for Buffy to nod her head before continuing, “How you got shot down, how we found you and so on...”

“But no monsters,” Buffy suddenly realised that Myron was trying to work this so she wouldn't have to answer any embarrassing questions about herself.

“No monsters,” Myron agreed, “let my report do the talking and we'll both get out of this with our skins intact.”

“Like no answering any questions from people who work for organisations going by the name of, 'The Initiative'.”

“The who?”

“You don't want to know,” Buffy noticed Myron open his mouth to press his question, “no Myron, trust me on this when I say, you don't want to know.”

“Okay,” Myron seemed to be taking Buffy's suggestion on board because he changed the subject, “so what are going to do once you get back to Saigon, head back to The World?”

“Well,” Buffy shrugged, “I think I've totally had it with the entire dancing gig, far too exciting...I thought maybe I'd stay in Vietnam and get an office job working for the USO, I have some college and if a curtain young Lieutenant were to offer to take a girl out on a dinner date or something...”

“Oh, I'm sure there's a Lieutenant around here somewhere who'd risk taking you out,” Myron laughed.

Saigon, early 1968.

The bed springs squeaked as Buffy rolled over to look at Myron as he lay in the bed next to her.

“I hope you don't think that I'm totally the kinda girl who goes to bed with a guy on the first date?” Buffy asked, “Coz it feels like we've known each other for way longer than just the few days we've actually spent together.”

After returning to Saigon, Buffy had in fact got an office job with USO due in no small way to the report that Myron had written. A couple of months ago she and the other girls had been big news, but that had only lasted until the next big military operation. Bunny, Bella and Betty had all gone back to the States while Buffy had stayed in country so she could stay near to where Myron was stationed.

“I know what you mean,” Myron turned to get a cigarette but stopped when he saw the disapproving look Buffy was giving him, “I hope you don't think I'm the sort of guy who'd take advantage of a girl who's a long way from home.”

“Nah,” Buffy shook her head, “I'd never think that an' anyway you were helpless in my hands, you didn't do anything that I hadn't planed for you to do.”

“I didn't?” Myron raised his head to look down to where Buffy rested her head against his chest, “I'll show you helpless!”

Rolling Buffy on to her back, Myron let his hands roam over her body, the mere sight and smell of her made him want her even more than he'd thought was possible. Close bodily contact with Buffy had long convinced him that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with; he only hoped that she felt the same way as he did.

Los Angeles, 1980.

“My God!” Buffy exclaimed quietly as she saw her mother sitting reading a magazine on a park bench overlooking the lake, her mother really had had blonde hair!

Using the knowledge she'd long ago got out of her mother, Buffy had managed to track down the young Joyce Summers. After leaving college, she'd married Buffy's dad and gone to work in an art gallery. Not long after starting her career, Joyce'd fallen pregnant with Buffy. Having followed her mother to the park on two or three occasions, Buffy had decided that today was the day that she'd go over and talk to the young woman, who was going to be her mother pretty damn soon!

“Myron Junior,” Buffy looked down at her nine year old son and handed him a Frisbee, “take this and your brother,” James was six, “and go play. Now you two play nice and don't go wondering off.”

Buffy watched as her two boys ran off across the grass and started to throw the Frisbee to each other. Taking a firm grip on the handle of the stroller she pushed it and her three year old daughter, Alice towards the bench where her mother sat.

“Excuse me,” Buffy smiled down at her mother and felt her heart go flip-flop in her chest, “do you mind if I join you?”

“No,” Joyce smiled up at the older woman with her toddler asleep in her stroller, “be my guest.”

“Thanks,” Buffy sat down making sure that Alice's face was in the shade, she gestured at her mother's belly all the while wanting to hug her mom and maybe warn her about the dangers of brain tumours, “Is that your first?”

“Why yes,” Joyce smiled as she stroked her bulging stomach, she smiled down at Alice as she slept on not knowing the turmoil going on in her mother's mind and heart right at that moment, “Who's the sleeping beauty?”

“That's Alice,” Buffy replied proudly, she'd desperately wanted a girl after having two boys, “and those little monsters,” Buffy pointed to where her son's game of Frisbee had turned in to a rough and tumble fight, “are my boys Myron and James.”

“Myron?” Joyce couldn't help herself from asking.

“Yeah I know,” Buffy shrugged, “but my father-in-law sorta insisted.”

“Forceful kinda guy?” Joyce asked.

“A General,” Buffy admitted.

“Your husband in the military too?” Joyce asked politely.

“Yep, a Lt Colonel in the infantry, we've just come back from three years in Europe,” where Buffy had looked up Giles but hadn't spoken to him.

“Wow, what's it like being an army wife,” Joyce asked, “it must be cool going to all those exotic places.”

“I wouldn't have called West Germany exactly 'exotic',” Buffy laughed, “but it was fun...”

“I'm Joyce Summers by the way,” Joyce turned and offered her hand to Buffy.

“Buffy Goldman,” Buffy replied as she took her mother's hand and wished she could tell her how much she missed her.

“Buffy?” Joyce mused, “That's a pretty name...like that folk singer...” Joyce hesitated, “...I'm thinking on calling my girl Edwina, after my grandmother.”

“Edwina!?” Buffy gasped, not wishing to spend her life being called 'Edwina the Vampire Slayer', she tried to put her mom off the idea.

After twenty minutes or so, Buffy had convinced her mother that 'Edwina' was a bad choice and 'Buffy' was a much better one. Even so Buffy sighed as she realised that she'd just named herself, her life, she decided was just way too complicated.

2nd October, 2001.

Fifty-three year old Buffy Goldman lay in her hospital bed, surrounded by her husband her kids and her grand kids. It had been a good life and her only regret was that it could have been a little longer so she could have enjoyed being a grandmother for just a while more. But, not even being the slayer could help her now, it seemed brain tumours ran on her mother's side of the family. The doctors had cut it out but the damn thing had grown back bigger and better than ever. It was the tumour that had caused her to crash her car and now she was dying; there was nothing anyone could do. With only a few minutes left, Buffy turned to her husband of more than thirty years and smiled.

“Myron honey, I'm tired, I think I should go now,” she said sadly.

“No,” Myron leant towards his wife and squeezed her hand gently in his own, “just a few more minutes.”

“You know a few more minutes would never be enough, we'd always want a few more,” Buffy glanced at the machines that were keeping her alive, “I want you to do it, I haven't got the strength.”

“But...” if Myron was going to say anything more the words stuck in his throat.

Buffy looked away from her husband and over at her children.

“Kids,” her voice was barely above a whisper now, “could you leave your dad an' me alone for a while?”

Once Buffy and Myron were alone Buffy turned back to her husband and gave him a sad smile.

“I wouldn't have wanted to live my life any other way, Myron,” she said weakly, “you gave me 'normal' and I've always loved you for that, so let me go now...please...looks like the last monster finally caught up with me...”

Standing up, Myron bent over his wife and kissed her on her fore head. Out of sight of Buffy his hand searched for the switch that controlled the life support machine, he switched it off. The monitors registered Buffy's decreasing heart rate and vital signs until there was just a long steady beep to mark his wife's passing. He looked down at the face of the woman he'd loved and saw how peaceful, how serene it was, how she still smiled up at him just like she'd always done for the last thirty years.

Waking up in the dark, at the exact moment that her older self died, Buffy knew with a certainty that couldn’t be denied that she’d died and she’d gone somewhere where she’d been loved. That somehow she was back in her own world and she was lying in her coffin. With a strength born of the slayer added to her panic at being buried ‘alive’, Buffy fought her way out of her coffin and towards the surface; somehow she had to go and find her husband and her children.

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