Prelude: A Light So Bright

The Balkans
1907 AD

The two Vampires ran through the door and worked on pushing the heavy iron gates shut behind them, putting all of their supernatural muscle into it. Commotion could be heard from down the corridor, where their pursuers were coming closer.

"Put your back into it!" One Vampire yelled at the other.

"Stop running your mouth and bloody push!" The other retorted.

Something slammed against the other side as the gates were almost closed. An arm stuck through the narrow gap, blindly reaching out for something to grab. The two Vampires pushed harder and the arm was crushed as the gates finally fell shut.

Booming echoed through the chamber as supernaturally strong fists hammered against the other side.

"End of the line, mate!" The Vampire with the ruffled blonde hair said. His face was bruised from the fighting and a deep gash along his forehead had turned his face into a bloody mask.

The other just looked across the room and his eyes fell on a large book resting on an altar.

"Keep them out!" He told the blonde and started running up the steps for the altar.

"Sure, leave me to do the muscle work!" But the Vampire complied and concentrated on holding the gates shut against the increasing pressure of the blows raining against it from outside.

The dark-haired Vampire reached the altar and touched the book, running his fingers across the strange letters embedded on the cover. He needed a moment to translate the arcane language in his head, then he managed half a smile.

"The Necronomicon Nocturnum. Finally!"

"Hurry up, will ya?" The blonde yelled at him, seeing the metal gates beginning to bend and crack.

The Vampire opened the book carefully, able to feel the power these simple pages contained. The book did not contain an index, of course, so he had to skim across half the book until he finally found the page he was looking for.

"Yes!" He whispered.

"Hurry!" The door creaked and the screams outside grew louder.

He closed his eyes and his fingers touched the letters, feeling their power react to this presence. Probing fingers of magic reached into his being, the incantation preparing to judge his worthiness. He knew that a death by fire awaited him if he was found wanting.

A sigh like God Himself would utter it echoed through the room. The Vampire opened his eyes again and started speaking the words that were only now becoming decipherable.

"Let the light shine on the world of darkness!" He began.

The iron gate shattered and the blonde Vampire was thrown back. A hundred snarling faces could be seen on the other side, pushing forward through the broken doors.

"Angelus!" The blonde screamed.

"Let the dispossessed reclaim their stolen flesh! Let the monsters that prey on the children of light be caged!"

Power started pouring through the room, a bright light emanating from the pages of the book. Angelus could hardly see the words anymore, his eyes shedding bloody tears, but he continued the incantation without missing a beat.

"Stop him!" One of the approaching Vampires growled. Some of the demons were flinching back from the light.

"Chain the dark with the light! Replace the demon with the man!"

Some Vampires dared go closer, raising swords and axes to strike at the man that was about to doom them all.

"No messing with my mate, you wankers!" The Vampire called Spike tackled them before they could strike, tumbling across the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. More demons were pushing into the room, but by now the light was so bright that Angelus could no longer be seen. Only heard.

"The dark will have no power! Let the light shine now and forevermore!"

The sun itself seemed to rise inside the room, the Vampires screaming as they felt it scorch their flesh. Spike just rose, feeling the light on his skin. It didn't hurt him.

"That's showing'em, Peaches!" He smirked.

The light faded after a moment and a hundred pairs of demon eyes flashed a bright gold. Vampires sunk to their knees all over the room, overtaken by something they did not understand, feeling something inside themselves most of them hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Angelus came down from the altar and stood beside Spike.

"Good work, mate!" Spike said.

"I guess we did it!"

The Vampire closest to them looked up, confusion evident on his face.

"What ... what is going on here? Where am I? Last I remember I was in this dark alley and there was this ugly looking guy coming toward me."

Spike chuckled.

#

And so it came to pass that in the year of our Lord 1907 the Scourge known as Vampires was forever altered by the deeds of one of their own.
 

AND SO IT BEGINS

1 - Scene of the Crime

###

Los Angeles
1999

Angel got out of his black convertible and walked toward the yellow tape that surrounded the crime scene. A crowd of onlookers had already assembled, trying to catch a look at what had happened here. Angel flashed his badge to the policeman minding the crowd and ducked under the tape.

Inside several policemen worked on taking fingerprints, securing clues, snapping pictures. Angel walked up to the woman in charge.

"Ah, Angel," Kate Lockley said, "I hoped you'd come."

"What happened here, Kate?"

She gestured toward the room and Angel saw half a dozen heaps of dust on the floor, surrounded by chalk lines. Two wooden stakes were lying on the ground as well. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened here.

"Six of them?" He asked Kate.

"There is another pile of ashes over in the kitchen. Seven victims all together."

Angel sighed.

"Who were the victims?"

"A kiss of Vampires led by a guy called Mr. Trick, if you can believe it. As far as we can ascertain the attack took place during daylight, so none of them had much chance to flee."

Angel nodded, looking around the apartment. Most Vampires lived in apartments these days, only a few hardliners still hung out in crypts and such. There were several computers standing on desks in the other room. A TV, a kitchen with a fridge for the blood, all completely normal.

"I knew Trick. He stayed out of trouble whenever he could. Anything his kiss might have done to warrant attention?" He asked Kate.

Unfortunately the universal restoration of souls to the Vampire population had not turned all of them into good guys. Angel hadn't really expected that to happen. Humans had souls and there were more than enough criminals and worse among them.

"One of the younger ones had been arrested for petty theft, but that's the size of it. According to the people here Mr. Trick ran some kind of dot-com business. Turns out he was quite the rich bloodsucker, too."

Angel closed his eyes. So much had changed these last ninety years. He and Spike had worked hard at helping the Vampires come to terms with their new role in the world. It wasn't easy to be a vicious predator when you were burdened with a conscience, though some managed quite well. Most Vampires had stopped hunting humans, though.

Humans had not stopped hunting them.

He looked at the badges both he and Kate wore. They read Preternatural Investigation Department. The PID had been established as a special branch of the Federal Marshall Corps, employing specialists to deal with preternatural crimes.

The existence of Vampires was common knowledge these days. Angel sure hadn't planned it that way, but about five years ago a man had gone to court to get his money back from his kids. The kids had inherited the money when their father had died. Their father rose as a Vampire and demanded to be recognized as legally alive.

The case never saw a conclusion. The Vampire was killed by a lynch mob before it could come to that. The entire thing had gone through the press, though, and so everyone knew. Some didn't believe it, but most simply were scared. They saw a guy with fangs and were either running scared or assembling another lynch mob.

Vampires were in a legal limbo right now. There was no law that said to shoot them on sight, yet there was no penalty for those that did, either. There was a law currently in the works in Washington that would establish Vampires as legal citizens, subject to the same rights and laws as everyone else. Angel personally didn't think it had much of a chance to go through congress. Many members of that august body still didn't think it was a good idea to let blacks vote, after all.

Still, America was the best place to be a Vampire. Europe and Asia burned their undead wherever they found them.

Only a few among the PID knew that Angel was a Vampire. Those that did didn't talk about it. Kate knew, but did her best to ignore the fact. Angel's knowledge about the preternatural world made him indispensable to the PID and most people left it at that.

"What do you think?" Kate asked him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"From the looks of things they were surprised. I can't see any blood or other signs that the attacker or attackers got wounded. Seven Vampires is a lot of muscle, Kate, but whoever did this got away without so much as a scratch."

Kate checked her notes.

"From what the forensic people can tell me right now, there are no finger prints. The stakes look homemade. Oh, there is something you should take a look at in the kitchen!"

They walked through the connecting door and Angel's eyes were drawn to the far wall.

"It's only red paint," Kate said, "not blood."

Angel nodded, reading the words written on the wall.

NO EVIL SHALL BE SPARED

"The slogan doesn't click with any of the known hate groups," Kate said, "but there are so many of them, it's hard to say."

Angel knew that, ever since the existence of Vampires became public knowledge, a lot of organized effort had gone into hunting them down. The police couldn't really do much about, even assuming they wanted to, it unless the groups started trashing public property. Killing Vampires was not illegal after all.

He also knew were he had seen this particular slogan before.

"Excuse me a minute, Kate!" He said and walked out, not waiting for an answer. Taking out his cell phone he dialed a number from memory and waited impatiently until someone picked up at the other end.

"Yeah?"

"Spike? It's Angel."

"Hey, Peaches! How goes, mate?"

"Not too good, I'm afraid. Are you in LA?"

"Sure. You need my help?"

"Maybe. Remember the words 'No Evil Shall Be Spared'?"

The line was silent for a moment before Spike found his voice again.

"Yeah, I remember. Where should we meet?"

"Hyperion Hotel in half an hour."

"I'll be there. Want me to bring the gang?"

"If you can get a hold of them, yes."

"Okay, see you then!"

The line clicked dead and Angel sighed, shaking his head.

"Just what we needed," he mumbled on the way to his car, "a new Slayer."

2 - Meet the Gang

###

Angel walked into the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel and saw that the place was quite lively already. He took a moment to make a quick survey of the assembled 'gang'.

Spike had come, as promised. He still had his hair bleached within an inch of its life and wore that worn-out old leather coat with the checkered past. Angel's grandchilde reclined on the couch in the middle of the lobby and tapped his black fingernails in impatience.

Darla sat close to him, eyes closed. Angel watched the woman who had sired him all these many years ago and still couldn't quite figure out his feelings for her. She had changed a lot after the return of her soul, becoming shy and reserved after having been a vicious killer for nearly three centuries. They had been madly in love at one time, before the souls. Now ... Angel didn't know. Over ninety years and he still didn't know.

Someone complained about the run-down state of the place and Angel recognized Cordy. Cordelia Chase was the most superficial youngster he had ever met, or so he had though at first. They had first met when Angel and Spike had tracked down Penn, one of Angel's Children, who had not given up his serial-killer ways after the return of his soul.

After Angel and Spike had saved Cordy from fanged death she had become one of the most active workers in America's Vampire lobby, pushing for the recognition of Vampires as legal citizens. It didn't hurt that she was the daughter of one of America's richest men, though her father had disowned her after his darling daughter had started running with the undead. It got her a lot of media attention.

Cordy had also decided that Angel and Spike would become her best friends and neither of them had gotten much say in the matter.

The current victim of her inexhaustible narratives about the sorry state of this hotel and the world in general was Wesley Windham-Pryce. Angel was particularly glad to see that the Englishman had made it, for this concerned him every bit as much as it did the rest of them.

Doyle, who sat in a chair next to the couch, completed the gang. Doyle was a demon-human hybrid, which made him every bit an outcast of society as if he were a Vampire. Angel had first met him a few years back while looking into another possible way to turn Vampires back into human beings. The lead had turned out to be false and Doyle had helped him escape from an angry mob.

Angel made his presence known and walked toward the others.

"Hi, Peaches!" Spike greeted him. Darla only gave him a short glance, saying nothing. Wesley and Doyle nodded his way.

"About time you turned up," Cordy said and gave him a hug, "I have an interview with the Sun tomorrow and I don't want to have bag under my eyes for lack of sleep."

Angel gave her a smile and motioned for everyone to sit down.

"I tried to reach the Witchy Girls," Spike said, "but only got their machine. Probably out doing some Wicca stuff or other."

Angel nodded. Having Willow and Tara here would have been nice, but it couldn't be helped.

"Maybe Spike already told you why I called you here. It looks like we may have a new Slayer in town."

Nobody said anything for a while. Angel could see Wesley grow uneasy, while Spike's eyes grew even harder than before. The only one who didn't have a clue was Cordy.

"What's a Slayer?" She asked when her patience finally ran out.

Wesley moved up to her, clearing his throat.

"The Slayer is ... well, she is a Chosen One. One girl in every generation chosen to protect the world from Vampires and other demons. She is preternaturally strong. Basically she has all the abilities of a Vampire, but without the weaknesses."

Cordy looked at him for a long moment.

"You're yanking my chain, Wes!"

"I wish it were so." He just said, looking down.

"But ... okay, so there is a girl with superpowers who is protecting the world from demons. That is a good thing, isn't it?"

"It was, at least until about ninety years ago." Angel said.

Cordelia was one of the few humans who knew the full details of the soul restoration. Angel hadn't really wanted to tell her, but she had whined and cried until Angel had finally given up and told her the entire story to regain his peace.

"Oh," she said, understanding, "so you're telling me that she isn't really interested in whether a demon is good or bad."

"By the standard of the Council of Watchers, all demons are bad. No exceptions."

"The Council?" Cordy asked.

"The guiding institution of the Slayer," Wesley said, "they train her, help her, guide her. They tell her who to kill."

Spike rose, brimming with impatience.

"You know where to find that new bitch?" He asked, growling under his breath.

"No, I've only seen her handwork. Remember Mr. Trick, Spike? He's dust, along with his entire kiss."

Spike growled again, beginning to pace up and down the lobby.

"We've dealt with Slayers in the past," Angel told the non-Vampires present, "by staying out of their way or killing them. Since the restoration we have mostly done the former and tried to avoid the latter."

"Tried to?" Cordy asked suspiciously.

"The Slayer is killing our people, human," Darla said in a low voice, "your laws might not consider that a crime, but we beg to differ."

"And we do what must be done!" Spike growled, still pacing.

"The problem is," Angel continued, "that every time a Slayer is killed, a new one rises. The Council trains them to see Vampires as nothing but animals that need killing."

"Can't you reason with them?" Cordy asked. "I mean, can't they see that things have changed? You're not animals anymore, you're people."

"It is hard to just discard something you have been raised to believe in as the absolute truth." Wesley muttered, a haunted quality to his voice.

"First order of business is to find this new Slayer," Angel said, "before she kills more innocent people. Once we do that, we will try to reason with her."

Spike gave him a glare, but Angel ignored him.

"If that doesn't work, then we'll do what's necessary."

Everything inside him tightened upon hearing himself say these words. He still remembered the deeds he had done as a soulless demon. Remembered them in vivid detail. He had spilled enough blood to last him a dozen lifetimes and the very thought of having to kill again disgusted him.

Yet he couldn't turn his back on this, either. He had made the Vampire race what it was today. It was his responsibility. That was why he had spent the last ninety years policing his own kind when they stepped out of line. That was why he had agreed to join the PID.

That was why he would have to kill a human girl if she threatened the safety of his people.
 

3 - The Acts of Watchers and Vampire Love Songs

###

"You seem to know quite a bit about this Slayer stuff." Cordy said.

Wesley looked up from his computer screen, rubbing his tired eyes. Cordelia, Doyle, and him were busily searching for a clue to where the Slayer might be hiding. Wesley was going through some of the files he had brought with him when he had first come to America.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"I said you know a whole lot about Slayers. Care to fill me in?"

Wesley sighed. It was not easy for him to talk about his past, yet he considered Cordelia a friend. Besides, if she was going to help them, she deserved to know the truth.

"I once belonged to the Council of Watchers." He told her.

"The Slayer's bosses?"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I was the Watcher personally assigned to guide and train the Slayer of that time. A girl named Kendra. I accompanied her to America once her training was complete. We came here, seeing as ..."

"Lots of victims here?" Cordy interrupted him.

"That's about the size of it, yes. We came here and she started ...started doing her sacred duty."

"Which was killing innocent people!" Doyle remarked. Wesley knew the half-demon was not very fond of the Council or their operatives. He had been on the wrong end of lynch mobs and fanatic demon hunters a few times too often.

"It was during that time," Wesley continued, "that I first met Angel, Doyle, and Spike."

He fell silent for a moment, Cordy watching him expectantly.

"That meeting ... it changed things for me. It ... seeing them, getting to know them ... it showed me that everything I knew about Vampires was false. They weren't monsters. Not all of them, at least. They were people. We ... we had killed innocents."

Cordelia didn't press him when he took his time, seeing how painful this was for him. She sat down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. After a moment Wesley looked at her again.

"I tried to talk to the Council. They wouldn't hear a word I said. They ... they threatened to remove me from my duties unless I ... rectified my attitude. When it became evident that they weren't interested in changing their ways, I tried talking to Kendra. I was hoping ..."

He paused again, taking off his glasses to clean them.

"Kendra was a good girl, Cordy. A wonderful person. But almost from birth she had been trained to see all demons as evil. Indoctrinated you might say. It was not possible to make her see them as people. I tried. God is my witness, I tried."

"What happened to Kendra?"

He looked up at her, his eyes full of sadness.

"She was going after a family. Children, whose only crime it was to be born with a demon half. Angel tried to stop her, but was wounded. She was going to kill him, too. Him and all those innocent children. I couldn't allow that."

Wesley didn't say anymore and Cordelia didn't ask.

#

Angel walked through the entrance of the Caritas and his eyes searched for the Host. If anyone knew where the Slayer might be hiding out, it was him. Spike and Darla walked behind him, also scanning the crowd.

The Caritas was a hangout for Vampires and some other forms of demons, none of them of the malevolent sort. For a moment Angel imagined what kind of carnage a Slayer, maybe accompanied by a team of Council commandos, might cause in here.

"There he is!" Spike pointed out.

The Host was moving through the rows of tables, chatting a bit here, offering a piece of advice there. The demon saw Angel and friends standing near the entrance and came over.

"Angel, my friend. It has been much too long since you graced us with your presence. And Spike! I still love the coat, man. It's all about the leathers. Darla! Every bit as ravishing as always, my dear."

"We need your help," Angel said, lowering his voice, "there is a Slayer in town."

The Host nodded. "I expected as much after hearing what happened to Trick. It's a shame. He always looked so sharp in that suit."

"Where can we find that bitch?" Spike growled.

"I am sensing a certain amount of aggressiveness here, William. Tell me the truth! You're still not over losing Drusilla, are you?"

Angel saw that Spike was about to explode. The Host was not the most tactful of demons. Angel moved between them, shoving Spike back a little.

"We need to find her before she kills more people. Can you help us?"

The Host shrugged. "You know how it goes." He motioned toward the stage.

Angel sighed deeply. He hated this, especially since he knew he had a terrible singing voice. It had to be done, though, so he started moving toward the stage.

The Host held him back.

"No, tall, dark, and brooding. This is too nice an evening to ruin it with your singing." He smiled past him at Darla. "I do not think you have ever performed here before, my dear."

Darla stared at the green-skinned demon as if he'd asked her to undress. Angel couldn't help but smile. The old Darla would have torn the Host's eyes out for even suggesting this. As it was she shook her head in disbelief and started moving towards the stage.

"Admit it," the Host whispered to Angel, "you always wanted to hear her sing!"

"Don't you dare tell her that!" Angel said, managing half a smile in the process. Spike just growled and walked toward the bar, ordering drinks.

Darla reached the stage, followed by the Host.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, a special treat here for you tonight. You will be hearing a life performance of none other than Darla Chamberlain, favored childe of the Master."

Angel could see Darla flinch as the Host mentioned the Master. The ancient Vampire had killed himself but moments after his soul returned, thousands of years of evil too much to take. Darla had gone to him, seeking her Sire's help in dealing with her newfound soul, only to find his dust.

Angel knew only too well how hard it was to figure out where the emotions of the demon ended and those of the human began.

She regained her composure and started sifting through the list of songs on the monitor. Angel settled back into a chair, taking the drink Spike brought, watching his grandchilde set down two bottles in front of himself.

"He's right, you know?" Angel said.

"Why don't you stuff it, mate?" Spike grumbled.

"The Slayer that killed Drusilla is dead, William! We killed her."

Spike slumped over the bottles and Angel could see the beginning of bloody tears begin to swell.

"It didn't bring her back." Spike whispered.

"And neither will this. You think I don't miss her? It's not the Slayers who are to blame. They are just programmed children, Spike. It's the Watchers that give the orders."

They had been trying to locate the headquarters of the Council of Watchers for decades now, but the Watchers kept themselves well-hidden. It was a source of unending frustration for all of them that they could only strike at the soldiers, never at the generals.

Angel looked up and saw that the Host had selected a song for Darla. She eyed him suspiciously, then sighed and the music started. Angel wasn't familiar with the tunes, but after the first few notes he decided that it didn't matter.

Lay a whisper on my pillow
leave the winter on the ground
I wake up lonely, there's air of silence
in the bedroom and all around

Darla's voice was hauntingly beautiful and Angel found himself looking inside him for that fire of passion the two of them had had before the souls. Looking at her, so radiantly beautiful, he was sure it had to be there somewhere.

Touch me now
I close my eyes
and dream away

His demon still wanted her. She was his Sire and there would always be a bond. But Angel, the man, simply couldn't find the fire anymore.

It must have been love
but it's over now
It must have been good
but I lost it somehow
It must have been love
but it's over now
from the moment we touched
'till the time had run out

Darla continued singing for some time, but Angel was now looking at the Host. The Host, in turn, looked at Angel. He had a feeling the anagostic demon knew exactly how fitting the song had been for him and Darla.

Darla finished to a round of thunderous applause. She stepped down from the stage and walked toward the Host and Angel. Spike was busy with one of the bottles.

"And?" She asked the Host, but kept throwing side glances at Angel.

"I guess the two of you are a little more in the clear now," the Host said, "but if you're asking me about the Slayer, well ... I have a feeling you should take a look at a certain warehouse. Wait a moment and I will write down the address."

With that he vanished behind the bar, leaving Angel and Darla to look at each other. The blonde Vampire sighed.

"The song could as well have been written for us, right?" She asked him.

"I guess so. Darla ..."

"We had a good time, Angel." She interrupted him. "You are my childe and I will always love you. But ..."

"... not like that anymore. Yes."

Both broke into a smile.

"You think working together will be a little less awkward now?" Darla asked, smiling.

"I hope so."

The Host returned and gave Angel a piece of paper.

"You will find your Slayer here."
 

4 - Something Funny Happened to Me Behind the Caritas

###
 

By the time they were ready to leave Spike had managed to empty the two bottles and get himself more than a bit drunk. Angel sighed. Spike had always been on a first-name basis with just about every alcoholic beverage in existence, but ever since Drusilla's death he had become a borderline alcoholic.

"We shouldn't have taken him with us." Darla said as she watched Spike swaying through the exit.

"I thought the urge to find the Slayer would keep him in check." Angel said. "It appears I was wrong."

"I can kill the bloody Slayer!" Spike yelled. "I already did two. Just try and keep me away from the bitch!"

Darla and Angel looked at each other, sighing.

"Get in the car, Spike! And try not to throw up on my back seat!"

Spike complied, climbing into the open convertible in the most complicated way possible. Angel took out his cell phone and called the Hyperion.

"Doyle? Angel! We know where to find the Slayer. Meet us in half an hour at this address!"

He gave the address and told Doyle to bring the rifles. Putting away the phone, he checked his own gun, a Winchester Magnum 45. Darla eyed the weapon suspiciously.

"I still don't like those things." She said.

"Neither do I. But as experience has taught, the best way to kill a Slayer is with a bullet. Preferably from a distance, without warning, in the back."

"I thought you wanted to talk to her first."

"And I will. That's why you'll go armed, too. I'll try and make her listen to reason. If that doesn't work and she's too good to restrain, you and Spike will be there, in hiding, ready to shoot. If Spike sobers up, that is. Otherwise you'll be on your own."

He opened the trunk of his car and handed Darla another Winchester Magnum. Darla weighed the gun in hand, then checked the clip and jacked a round into the chamber. Despite her dislike for guns Angel knew she was perfectly capable of handling one. So was Spike, if he wasn't drunk, that was.

He slammed the trunk shut. "Okay, let's go!"

Vampire senses made him look up and see the shadow moving toward him at the last split second. He jumped to the side, just enough to let the body of his attacker barrel past him. He turned around and was in a fighting stance, even though he already knew who the attacker was.

The dark-haired girl, dressed in black leather pants and a skimpy top, jumped him once again, knife in hand. He caught the hand holding the blade and twisted it around her back until she dropped it, which earned him an elbow in the face. Vamping out, he scissored the legs out from under his attacker, bringing her down. Moments later he was on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his superior strength and weight.

"I almost got you this time." The girl pouted.

"In your dreams, Faith!" He smiled and stood, his face returning to human, offering her a hand.

The girl called Faith allowed him to pull her up, smiling at him. Angel was almost used to her antics by now and she was getting quite good, though he doubted that she'd ever be able to surprise him.

Faith had lost her parents to Vampires when she was twelve and had been at the mercy of America's social system ever since. When Angel first met her  a little over a year ago she had been attacking a few harmless Vampires, trying to scratch their eyes out. The Vampires had been on the verge of losing patience with the little wild child when Angel arrived on the scene.

He had taken her under his wing, showing her that most Vampires these days were more or less decent folks. He became her surrogate father, or something very close to it. Faith did have foster parents, but she stayed away from them for weeks at a time and they never even noticed. She stayed at the Hyperion quite frequently and Angel let her, preferring that to having her out on the streets.

Faith was obsessed with becoming a good enough fighter to help Angel chase evil Vampires.

"You found the Slayer, right?" Faith asked, bouncing up and down before him, a bundle of teenage energy.

"You listened through the ventilation shaft again." Angel chided her.

Faith managed to look more or less chastened, yet watched him eagerly. She was only sixteen years old, soon to be seventeen, yet somehow she always seemed to alternate between a much older woman and a little child. Right now she seemed like a ten-year-old who wanted to go along to the carnival.

"Lose the brat!" Spike yelled from the car. "We're hunting Slayers!"

"The brat managed to kick your ass, Spike!" Faith yelled back.

Angel almost chuckled, remembering the scene from a few weeks ago. Angel had taught Faith a few fighting moves and she had been practicing by herself when Spike had come in. Spike had been amused that she wanted to become a fighter and a shouting match had become a sparring contest.

When Angel had walked into the gym Faith had just thrown an overconfident Spike to the ground and sat down on his chest. That, combined with the look on Spike's face, had triggered one of the few genuine laughing fits Angel had had these last hundred years.

Moments later he'd had to physically restrain Spike from spanking Faith black and blue.

"Sorry, Faith," Angel said, "but this is much too dangerous. We're not going after a few Vampires who've had a few too many. The Slayer is a killer and we're going to bring her down."

Faith gave him a pleading look, which had been known to break through Angel's stoic countenance many times before. Not this time, though.

"Faith!" He commanded with his best authority voice and the girl's shoulders slacked.

"Spoilsport!"

"Promise you will stay out of this, Faith!" Angel said, not sounding amused at all.

Faith knew very well how much Angel valued his own word and that of those he considered his friends. With a sigh she surrendered.

"Okay, okay! I promise!"

"Good! Now return to the hotel. Could be a rough night tonight and I don't want you out on the streets."

"Promise to spar with me tomorrow?" She asked.

"It's a date."

She gave him a dazzling smile and skipped away into the night. Angel shook his head, smiling despite himself.

"Sometimes I think this girl has to be superhuman. Nobody can be this lively 24-7."

He got into the car with Darla. Spike was lying across the back seat, but was not out of it as Angel feared at first. He turned around to look at him.

"You sober enough for a fight?"

"I'm never too drunk to kick tail!" He mumbled.

"Okay, let's roll!"
 

5 - Never Bring a Stake to a Gunfight

###
 

Angel's black convertible came to a stop outside a large warehouse in one of Los Angeles' seedier districts. Angel knew for a fact that not many Vampires hung around here, though there was a small gang of them roaming in this neighborhood.

"Looks deserted." Darla said as she got out of the car.

"Looks can be deceiving." Angel replied, trying to sense any trace of his prey. Nothing so far.

Another car pulled up beside them, Doyle and Wesley getting out with rifles slung over their arms. Spike had helped himself to a shotgun from Angel's trunk.

"Remember!" Angel said. "I will try and talk to her first. When that does not work we will try and subdue her. You got the tranquilizer gun, Doyle?"

The half-demon patted the bulk under his jacket.

"Killing is the last resort measure, understand?" He was talking to everyone, but looking at Spike. The blonde Vampire grumbled, but nodded.

Angel started walking toward the warehouse, the others fanning out behind him. They had done this kind of thing before, unfortunately, and knew what to do. Angel took point, everyone else staying well back. The plan was for Angel to draw her out.

He was on the verge of entering the warehouse when he heard the first sounds of fighting.

"This way!" He motioned for the others, speeding down the alley. They made their way almost halfway around the warehouse when Angel skidded to a halt, motioning for everyone to take cover.

The all-too familiar sound of a Vampire exploding into dust filled the alley as Angel saw the fight happening right in front of him. A blonde girl was fighting against nearly a dozen Vampires. There had been more at the start, as was evident by the heaps of dust on the floor, but he could see she was getting tired.

The Vampires were overwhelming her through sheer numbers. He knew them, they belonged to Lenny's gang. There could be little doubt that this girl was the Slayer, she still held her own against these numbers. Still, she was hurt, taking more wounds as he watched. She still held her stake in one hand.

It occurred to him that he could just allow things to play themselves out here and the Slayer problem would be solved, at least for tonight. Another Slayer would shortly rise, of course, but ... He shook his head. If he did nothing there was a good chance more people would die before the Slayer was brought down. Besides, she was just a girl who got her head screwed on wrong. He had to put a stop to this before more people got hurt.

"Stop the fight!" He thundered, stepping from the alley. The Vampires closest to him recognized him immediately and started to back off. He had to repeat himself for those too involved in the fighting, but before long the Slayer stood alone, the remains of Lenny's gang standing several meters away.

"I will handle this!" Angel told the Vampires.

"She killed some of our friends, Angelus!" One of the gang hissed at him. "We want her blood."

"I said I will handle this. Leave! Now!"

Some of the younger Vampires hesitated, but were quickly pulled along by those that had some smarts. Angel had made sure his reputation among his people was so that he seldom needed to fight with them. The gang members vanished into the darkness of the alleys and Angel turned towards the Slayer.

She was young, no older than Faith. Long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and she wore black jeans and a light jacket. Her green eyes were focused on him and she clutched her stake. He could see the bruises on her skin from the fight. She was slightly favoring her right leg.

"Are you all right?" He asked her.

For a moment she seemed stunned by his question, then her face closed itself off and she glared at him.

"Can we just fight now? I have school tomorrow."

A schoolgirl? Angel didn't quite believe it. Since when did the Watchers allow their charges to go to school? She started moving toward him, stake in hand.

"You do know that attacking a federal marshal is a capital offense, right?" He showed her his badge. She stopped moving forward, staring at it.

"You're a Vampire!" She said, sounding a bit uncertain.

"Certainly," he agreed, "but one doesn't preclude the other, does it?"

She looked puzzled and Angel grew a bit more optimistic. Apparently this one was not as thoroughly programmed as Kendra had been. The former Slayer would not even have waited for him to say anything or listened to his words, she would just have attacked.

"You're a Vampire!" She repeated.

"Yes, we have established that much. My name is Angel. What's yours?"

She just stared at him.

"It's common courtesy to introduce oneself to another, is it not? What's your name?"

"I'm ... Buffy. My name is Buffy."

"Pleased to meet you, Buffy!" He wasn't sure it was really her name. There were still some legends flying around about never telling magical creatures your name or they'd have power over you. He didn't know how much nonsense the Watchers had fed to this young girl.

"You're Angelus," she whispered, "the Scourge of Europe."

Angel winced, his past once again catching up with him. Some days he wondered whether he would ever be able to make amends for the things he had done back then. He shook his head; this wasn't the time to think about it.

"That was a long time ago." He told Buffy.

"You're a murderer!" She hissed at him. "It doesn't matter how long ago it was."

"That would carry a lot more sting coming from someone who did not commit murder herself earlier today. To say nothing of just a few minutes ago." He gestured toward the remains of the Vampires she had staked.

"That's not murder," she defended herself, "these weren't ... weren't people!"

"Weren't they?" Angel asked her. "Tell me, Slayer! Did they attack you? Did you see them attack innocent humans? Did they do anything to warrant being murdered?"

She shook her head and he knew that he had made some headway. Maybe just a tiny crack in the programming the Watchers had given her, but it was a start.

"You're monsters!" Buffy yelled at him, but didn't sound a hundred percent sure of it.

"Some of us, yes. But you can't judge an entire species by the deeds of a few!"

Maybe he had pushed too quickly too fast. She clutched her stake tighter and lunged at him, aiming the sharp wood at his heart. Angel jumped to the side, evading her. The Slayer rolled and was back on her feet an instant later.

A feathered projectile struck her in the shoulder.

"What the ...?" She managed before her eyes started to roll back. Moments later, with enough tranquilizer inside her to bring down two elephants, she slumped to the ground.

Doyle, Spike, Darla, and Wesley emerged from the shadows, Doyle putting the tranq gun back into his shoulder holster.

"She seemed receptive," Wesley said, "at least to a certain point."

"We should just kill her and get it over with." Spike mumbled.

Angel crouched down and hoisted the sleeping Slayer up into his arms.

"If we kill her there will be a new Slayer coming around in no time flat, one that might be more like Kendra again."

He could see Wesley wince.

"I think we have a chance to make this one see reason." Angel continued. "And anyway, as long as she lives, there won't be a new Slayer. So get over it, Spike! We're leaving!"

Spike growled below his breath, which had more to do with the sobering setting in than any actual hostility toward Angel, and followed the others back to the cars.
 

6 - Of Vampires on Crack and Caged Slayers

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Angel looked at the beautiful girl that was still lying unconscious on the floor of the specially constructed cell in the cellar of the Hyperion and felt his heart go out to her. So young, much too young to have her mind poisoned by bigoted old idiots, sent out on a killing spree that would cost innocent lives and get her dead before too long.

He had never understood what possible rationalization the Watchers had for using children to do their dirty work. What conceivable reason could their be for using innocents like this? Did the ends justify the means for them? Was that all there was to it?

"She doesn't look too tough!"

Angel started. For the first time ever Faith had managed to take him by surprise, so lost in thought had he been. He thanked the Powers that the girl was too busy staring at the Slayer to have noticed it. He would never have heard the end of it.

"Believe me, Faith! You do not want to spar with that one!"

"She can't be much older than me."

"Physically, yes. Though I'm afraid mentally is a whole different question."

They both looked through the one-way window into the cell. Kendra had died little more than a year ago, so it was a safe bet that this one had been chosen at the same time. Which meant that she had been hunting and killing for a year now.

"They programmed her, right?" Faith asked. "Like a robot?"

"Essentially, yes. She has been raised to regard all demons as evil, no matter what they do or who they are."

"And you think you can deprogram her?"

"I hope so."

The two looked on in silence for while. Silence, though, was not something Faith did well. Neither was standing still, for that matter.

"How come you have a cell down here anyway?" She asked him, pacing in front of the cell. "Can't imagine it came with the hotel."

Angel managed a smile. He had bought the Hyperion in the fifties after exorcising a paranoia demon from here. Since then it had served as the unofficial Vampire World HQ, a safe meeting place for a race that did its best to remain hidden from the world at large. Angel had lived here more or less steadily ever since, though he still did a lot of traveling around the world.

"I had the cell built in the late sixties," he explained to Faith, "after an experiment with drugs turned ugly."

"Huh?" Faith asked.

"In the sixties Spike and me often worked with a Vampire called Fred."

"Freddy the Vampire?" Faith smiled, probably thinking Angel was pulling her leg.

"Yes. Despite the name he was pretty old and powerful. During those times, well, it was a wacky time."

"Don't tell me you boogied down to the Shangri-La, Angel!"

"Okay, I won't tell you!"

The two shared a laugh.

"So, what happened to Freddy?"

"Well, Fred did have an unfortunate episode with drugs. He became addicted and, during his highs, he turned quite violent. A Vampire on crack is not something you want to experience, believe me! In the end we had no other choice but to lock him away and make him go through cold turkey withdrawal. It was not a pretty sight."

Angel remembered the many nights he had spent down here, watching his friend go through withdrawal. Fred had raged, threatened, whimpered, sometimes all at once. It had been painful for all of them

"What happened to him?" Faith asked.

"It took the better part of a year, but he managed. After that he didn't trust himself around humans anymore. Last I heard he was in Canada, living in the wilderness."

There was a groan coming from inside the cell and both Angel and Faith looked through the one-way window to see the Slayer slowly come back to consciousness.

"Shrugged off the tranquilizer in record time," Angel mumbled, "a Vampire couldn't have done better."

"What will you do with her now?"

Angel sighed, rising from his chair. "Talk! Hope! Pray for the best!"

"You ... do you mind if I don't stick around to watch? She's ... I don't know. I'm getting the wiggins around her."

"Go, Faith! Do me a favor and tell Darla and Spike that she's awake, okay? On a second thought, scratch Spike! Just tell Darla!"

"Okay!" With that she whizzed up the stairs.

By now the Slayer was on her feet, though a bit wobbly, and looked at the bare cell walls. There was fear in her eyes, he could see as much, though it was well-hidden beneath a barrier of determination.

"Okay, anybody care to tell me where I am?" She yelled against the walls.

Angel walked around to the entrance and slid the heavy steel door back. There was a second door of steel bars and he left that one closed. The Slayer stood at the far end of the cell, back against the wall, and looked at him.

"I hope you don't suffer any ill effects from the tranquilizer," he told her, "we weren't quite sure what dose to use."

"How about letting me out? I'm sure that will cure any ill effects I might be suffering from."

He set a chair down right in front of the bars and sat down, leaning his arms on the back of it, studying her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you out just yet. Sorry about that, but letting you out at this point would mean dooming a lot of my people to an early death."

She walked a little closer to the bars, looking at him.

"Don't take this as an encouragement, but why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

"Two reasons," Angel said, "first one is that I don't like killing. I've done more than enough of that to last me a hundred lifetimes. I'd much rather make you understand."

"Understand what?"

"That not all Vampires are monsters.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you told me that right before you shot me, right? Pardon me if I have trouble believing."

"I don't expect you to believe right off the bat. Buffy, that was your name, right? I know that the Watchers have been feeding you their mantra probably right from birth, but ..."

"They didn't!" Buffy interrupted him.

"What?"

"I didn't know a thing about the Slayer or Watchers until about a year ago. I knew about Vampires, of course, but all that other stuff only came about twelve months ago."

Angel narrowed his eyes, studying her. If she had not been one of the Council's Slayers-in-waiting, then they'd only had a year to indoctrinate her. He had heard of this happening before, a new Slayer being chosen seemingly at random, the Council having to search for them.

"Do you like your new life?" Angel asked her.

"Like it? Are you kidding? I was happy being a nice, normal high school girl. And then they just suddenly dump this sacred duty thing in my lap and ..."

She stopped herself. "Why am I telling you all this? You're a Vampire!"

"And all Vampires are evil, right? Nothing more than animals. That's what they told you, I expect."

After a moment she nodded, looking at him with an uncertain expression in her eyes.

"Care to hear the other side of the story?" He asked her.

She went quiet for a long moment, then she sighed and squatted down on the stone cell floor.

"I don't seem to have anything better to do right now."

Angel nodded and began telling her the story of the Restoration.

7 - The Restoration Or How I Learned to Stop Brooding and Changed the World

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"I was turned into a Vampire in 1746," Angel began his story, "and for the next one and a half centuries I was everything the Watchers told you about and more. I left a wide trail of bodies all over Europe, killed my own family, killed whomever I met. I enjoyed it. As did all Vampires."

He sighed. "During that time the Watchers were, of course, completely right about us. We were animals, bloodthirsty beasts, nothing more. But then something changed."

"Changed?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. Me and Spike, one of my Childer, were in Romania. We came across a clan of Gypsies and, true to form, we started killing them. What we didn't count upon, though, was that the elders of the clan were skilled in the ways of magic. To exact their revenge upon us, they cursed us. Cursed us with the return of our souls."

Buffy looked puzzled. "Return of your souls? How is that a curse? Couldn't they think of something better?"

Angel shook his head. "I'm sure your Watcher told you the story. When a Vampire is turned a demon fills his flesh, nothing human remains. The soul of the human he once was is gone. And with it the conscience, the compassion, everything you'd think of as human qualities. Believe me, it makes for a very easy existence."

He looked up at her and for a moment Buffy could see the deep pain that was still in his eyes.

"When our souls returned, everything changed. Suddenly we had a conscience again. 150 years of bloody slaughter and suddenly we felt it. We remember everything the demons did as if we had done it ourselves. You can't even imagine what that feels like to have done the things we did ... and care."

He expected some kind of comment from her. Some flippant remark. How could a teenager even hope to grasp what he was telling her? When he looked at her, though, all he saw was confusion, along with the barest hint of compassion.

"It was hell, Buffy. Pure and simple. Spike and me, well, I'm sure if we hadn't had each other neither of us would be here now. I think we'd just walked into the sunrise to get rid of the pain.

"After a time, though, we came to realize that this thing that had happened to us, despite the pain that went with it, was actually a grace, not a curse. We were human again, at least inside, and that meant that two of the most vicious Vampires ever would no longer do harm to the human race.

"We found a new goal in life. Vampires were doing untold damage worldwide, killing humans in numbers too horrible to contemplate. We had to put an end to it. Unfortunately using the curse the Gypsies came up with proved to be unpractical, as it only worked on single Vampires. It would have taken us forever to curse every single Vampire on the face of the Earth.

"Then we heard of the Necronomicon Nocturnum."

"The what?" Buffy asked.

"The most complete collection of magic concerning the creatures of the night."

"Everything you ever wanted to know about Vampires and were afraid to ask?" She joked. Angel guessed she was using humor to try and get past the confusion he could feel inside her.

"Something like that. With the help of that book we achieved our goal."

He stood and leant against the bars, looking at Buffy.

"I'm still a Vampire. As are all the others. Dead flesh, animated by a demon. Yet ever since that day in 1907 the human soul is back and in control. Every Vampire in the world now has a soul, a conscience, the capacity for compassion. We are just people now."

"Except for the bursting-into-flames-during-the-day part, right? Oh, and there is still that bit about having to drink human blood, correct?"

"Most Vampires these days live of pigs' or cows' blood. One thing you have to understand, Buffy! Vampires are people. That means you have bad apples among them. People who, despite having a conscience, are every bit as monstrous as the demons ever were. Humans are more than capable of committing acts of atrocity without demon help."

"Next you're gonna be telling me that you have a dream, right? One day your poor little childer will live in a nation where they will not be judged by the length of their fangs but by the content of their character?"

Angel shook his head.

"This is not a laughing matter, Buffy. The people you have killed out there were human in every way, they only had the misfortune of being attacked and turned by a Vampire. Some Vampires are criminals, some are monsters, but most are just people trying to live their lives."

He could see that she was closing herself off. Too much in one setting, he guessed. He could see that a part of her wanted to believe him, yet that part was too small yet. Believing him would necessarily involve seeing her own deeds in a whole new light.

If she was telling the truth, if she had really been the Slayer for but a year with no training before that, it was a good guess that she was only now coming around to accepting the burden placed upon her. And here he was, telling her that most of what she had been told was wrong and that she was a murderer.

"Sleep on what I told you!" He told her. "I will be back tomorrow."

With that he turned around and started to walk away.

"Angel!" She called after him.

"Yes?"

"You said you had two reasons for keeping me here. What is the second?"

He gave her half a smile.

"Why, if I kill you another Slayer will rise. As long as you're stuck here, my people are safe. Or as safe as they'll ever be in a world like this."

With that he left.

#

Buffy sat on the cold stone floor and pondered her situation. Prisoner of a Vampire. A day ago she would have said that Vampires didn't take prisoners. Giles had told her the score on Vampires more times than she'd cared to listen. Vicious beasts, only interested in drinking blood and inflicting pain.

Angel confused the hell out of her. He was like no Vampire she'd ever seen before. There was something about him that made her want to believe him, even though she knew it couldn't be true. Vampires with souls. What a laugh, right? Right?

Nonsense, all of it! Demons with a conscience. He was lying through his too-long teeth, there was no other explanation. Giles had told her the score and she had seen the evils they could commit. Destroying them was her sacred duty. It was right.

She was not a murderer!

Only now did she notice that there was some food standing at the edge of the bars. For a moment she wanted to refuse it out of defiance, but her belly reminded her in no uncertain terms about her duty to it. She rose and took the food.

While chewing on bread and cheese she tried to figure out what this Vampire wanted to achieve here. His last comment had disturbed her greatly. As long as she was here, no new Slayer would be called. Maybe he planned to keep her prisoner here for the rest of her life. She shuddered, wondering how long it would take her to go insane in here.

Okay, step one, find a way to get out of here! Angel had left the solid door open when he left, so the only thing standing between her and freedom were the bars. She rose and tested them. No give, even at full strength. She labored at it for a few minutes, putting all her muscle into it, and achieved only some sweat and a feeling of gloom.

Okay, getting herself out didn't work. Change of tactics. If she couldn't free herself, someone else would have to open those bars. There was Angel. There was whoever had shot that tranquilizer dart at her. Maybe she could just tell them that she believed the story. Okay, Vampires were good, she wouldn't kill them anymore. Would they let her out then?

Of course she couldn't just tell him all was right with the world the next time he came around. She'd have to play it carefully so he'd buy it. Slowly come around to his point of view. Which probably meant having to listen to more of his stories, but that was okay.

He did have a nice voice. Where had that thought come from?

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