Vampire Slayer

Settings: Season Three. Set during the episode ‘Bad Girls’ when Wesley comes to Sunnydale.

NOTE: Just for the sake of this fic, Buffy never died in Prophecy Girl. I know that’s kinda stretching things, but for the sake of this fic, it hasta be like that. This means that there was no Kendra, and Faith’s not around. This in turn means that the Deputy Mayor hasn’t been killed. Oh, and just for convenience, Angel’s back in his underground apartment and not in the mansion.

(Basically, I’m using the episode because Wesley’s arrived in Sunnydale to take over as Watcher. Buffy never died, which means no other Slayer’s have been called.)

I think I’ve got far too many fics in Progress…but this one’s nearly finished being written! YAY!

ONWARDS:

CHAPTER ONE: CAPTURED

Buffy walked into the library, not too sure of what to expect. She had been told that Giles wanted to see her and that he wasn’t looking especially happy. Buffy’s throat constricted with something she hated to call fear, but ever since she had seen the disappointment on his face after her keeping Angel’s return a secret, she had hated her Watcher having any kind of disappointment with her.

Her Watcher. She didn’t care what the Council had said. She didn’t care that Quentin Travers had come to town and fired him for loving her as a daughter. Giles was her Watcher, and nothing anyone could say would take that away.

She opened the door to the library and found Giles sitting uncharacteristically on the table, his legs dangling in the air. Buffy looked past him to see a younger man in a suit, taking books out of a box.

“Controlled circumstances. Hello Buffy,” Giles greeted her.

Buffy made a mental note to find out what Giles had been talking about before she had walked through the door.

“Well…hello,” the other man said. He looked young, late twenties. She could tell in an instant that he was British, and immediately she felt dislike for him.

“New Watcher?” she asked Giles.

“New Watcher,” he affirmed, not hiding his disdain for the younger man who was to replace him in his rightful role as Watcher.

“Wesley Whndam-Price,” he greeted, holding out his hand to the Slayer. She looked at him, giving him one of her famous ‘Tell me you’re joking’ looks. The young Watcher withdrew his hand. “Very nice to meet you.”

Buffy moved to stand closer to Giles, showing him that she wasn’t going to betray him by getting along with his replacement. For Giles could never be replaced.

“Is he evil?” she asked seriously, speaking to her Watcher, but eyeing Wesley.

“Evil?” Wesley repeated, sounding a little flabbergasted.

“The last one was evil,” Buffy explained.

“Oh yes,” Wesley said. “Gwendolyn Post. We all heard. No, Mr Giles has checked my credentials. Rather thoroughly. Phoned the council. But I’m glad to see you’re on the ball as well.” He suddenly leant forward and spoke in a hushed voice. “A good Slayer is a cautious Slayer.”

Buffy looked to Giles again, noticing that her Watcher looked as though he wanted to put a stake through the younger man’s chest.

“Is he evil?” she repeated.

“Not in the strictest sense,” Giles said.

“Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up. As I’m sure none of us is anxious to spend any time on pleasantries,” Wesley said, making his way back to his pile of books.

Buffy sighed extremely softly and perched herself on the table, next to Giles, their shoulders touching, what little contact they had telling them both that neither of them was going to let go.

Wesley walked closer to them, holding a new note book. Giles recognised it instantly as a Watcher’s Diary.

“Why don’t you tell me everything about last nights patrol,” Wesley said eagerly, his pen at the ready.

“Vampires,” Buffy replied simply.

“Yes…”

“Killed ‘em.”

Wesley looked at her, expecting more. “Anything else you can…tell me?”

Buffy looked at her Watcher who nodded, telling her that it was alright for her to follow orders such as this. The fact that she had looked to him for approval made his heart leap. No matter how much he had hurt her with the archaic test of the Cruciamentum, there was no way that Buffy would let him be replaced in her life.

“One of them had swords. I don’t think he was with the other two.”

“Swords?” Wesley repeated with interest. He went back to his books, his security blanket, Giles had already noticed.

“One long, one short?” the young Watcher asked.

“Mmm, both pointy,” Buffy replied. She looked towards Giles. “With like…jewels and things.”

“Sounds familiar,” Giles said.

“It should,” Wesley replied smugly, handing Giles an ancient book.

“El Eliminati. Fif-”

“Fifteenth century duellist cult. Deadly in their day. Their numbers dwindled in later days due to an increase in anti-vampire activity. And a lot of pointless duelling. They eventually became the acolytes of a demon called Balthazar who brought them to the New World. Specifically here,” Wesley explained by rote.

“You seem to know a lot about them,” Giles commented.

“I didn’t get this job because of my looks,” Wesley said.

“I really, really believe that,” Buffy commented. Giles stifled a laugh.

“I’ve researched this town’s history…extensively,” Wesley said.

“So why have we not seen them before this?” Giles asked, hoping that this new Watcher would fall flat on his arse, and be out of town by sunset. An un-experienced Watcher could get Buffy killed.

“They were driven out a hundred years ago. Happily, Balthazar was killed, I don’t know by whom.”

“And they’re back cos…” Buffy asked.

“Balthazar had an amulet, purported to give him strength. When he was killed, It was taken by a wealthy landowner named-”

He stopped explaining as he saw the bored and fed up face of the young Slayer. Wesley couldn’t understand how she had managed to stay alive for three years when she obviously had no respect for authority.

“I don’t want to bore you with the details,” Wesley said.

“Little bit late.”

“Named Gleaves,” Wesley continued, telling himself he wouldn’t let the insolent girl get the better of him. He was a Watcher for goodness sake! “It was buried with him and I believe the few remaining Eliminati are probably looking for it. For sentimental value.”

“You don’t think that this amulet could pose as any threat?” Giles asked.

“On no, not at all,” Wesely replied confidently. “Nonetheless, we may as well keep it from them. Buffy, you will go to the Gleaves family crypt tonight and fetch the amulet,” Wesley ordered.

She looked at him doubtfully. “I will?” the challenge in her voice was evident.

“Are you not used to being given orders?” Wesley asked.

“Whenever Giles sends me on a mission, he always says please,” Buffy said, faking a whine that she knew would make Giles cringe ordinarily. She saw him begin to laugh a little. “And afterwards I get a cookie.”

Giles hid his smile, knowing that he would be shipped out of Sunnydale as soon as the Council could get him out if he was seen to be supporting the Slayer’s rebellion.

Wesley looked at her, a little taken aback by what she was saying to him.

“I don’t feel we’re getting off on quite the right foot.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked to Giles. She eyed him pleadingly, but he silently told her that she needed to listen to what the new Watcher was saying to her. It was only out of her fear of having Giles taken away from her that she would comply with Wesley’s commands.

“Alright I’ll go,” she conceded. Giles smiled thankfully and watched as his Slayer jumped off the table.

Buffy eyed Wesley and walked past him. “Don’t say anything incredibly interesting while I’m gone.”

Wesley watched in shock as she walked out of the library. Giles hid his smile as Wesley turned to look at him.

“She’ll get used to me,” Wesley said, his voice sounding confident, though Giles could read that his eyes were not so sure.

Reading about Slayers in past Watcher’s Diaries was easier than trying to train one and gain her respect. Considering that Giles had been fired and was still around, Buffy’s loyalty’s were staying firmly with her Watcher. Nothing the Council did could take her away from him.

~*~

Buffy clutched her torch in one hand, a stake in the other. She opened the door to the Gleaves family tomb, wishing that Giles had offered to come with her. If it weren’t for Wesley, he would have been by her side.

“‘Fetch the amulet’, he says,” Buffy said bitterly. “Why don’t you fetch it yourself?”

She sighed and opened the first of the crypts, finding only a decaying body. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and moved to the second crypt. She pushed the lid off the tomb and grinned as she saw the amulet lying on the corpses chest.

“Score one for Buffy.”

She quickly worked the clasp and pocketed the amulet, freezing suddenly as she heard footsteps and voices. Her vampire senses suddenly went on full, and she knew that she had to get out of there.

Without thinking to replace the amulet, she quickly jumped into the first crypt, pulling the lid over the top. She held her breath and tried to make as little noise as possible.

A group of seven vampires, dressed in Eliminati uniforms gathered around the two crypts.

“Someone’s been here already,” said a gruff voice. “They’ve taken the amulet.”

‘Please, just leave. Leave, leave,’ Buffy thought desperately.

There was a sudden quiet and Buffy calmed for a moment.

“I can smell them. They’re close,” came another voice.

Buffy swore to herself and felt her heart beginning to race faster. Where was Giles when you needed him.

She clutched her stake, fearing the worst.

She heard the lid of the crypt begin to move, and before the vamps had a chance to look inside, she jumped out of the crypt, quickly surveying what she was up against.

Seven to one. The odds didn’t look good.

“A Slayer,” said one vamp, the disdain in his voice obvious. The other six looked up at Buffy in surprise.

Not wanting to think about taking on seven vamps who were toting some serious weaponry, she turned and fled as fast as she could, only to be headed off by another group of three vampires.

She quickly dusted one and turned to the next two. She almost groaned as she saw the previous seven coming up behind them.

In one fluid movement, the nine vampires drew their swords, two each, one long, one short…both pointy.

A single vamp stepped forward and hit her quickly, wrestling her to the ground. Her stake was quickly taken from her and she felt a hand beginning to crush her throat.

“Where’s the amulet?” the vamp asked.

She didn’t answer, instead, she tried to kick him, but his grip tightened. He lifted her to her feet and pushed her roughly against a tree.

“One more chance Slayer. Where’s the amulet?”

She hesitated, almost telling him to take it, knowing that whatever she did she was not going to get out of this without a complete miracle.

Her hands grasped at a small branch that was coming out of the trunk, and she snapped it off the tree, quickly turning in the vamps grip and swiftly dusting him.

The remaining eight looked at each other and advanced towards her. Vamps had never worked in packs before. They hunted together to make it easier for themselves, but she knew that these vamps were organised and highly trained.

One vamp struck out at her with the long sword, clipping her arm as Angelus had done after freeing Acathla. She winced and her hand went to her wound instinctively.

Two vamps cornered her on either side, trapping her in. They grabbed her by the arms and held her tightly against a tree. She tried to kick but her feet were being held down by strong boots.

A third vampire took a step closer to her and held his sword at her throat, pressing in slightly, enough to make her uncomfortable and entirely fearful for her life.

The sword moved down from her neck and the vamp held it at chest level.

“I’ve heard that the blood of a Slayer is powerful. It’s got everything you could ever want in it. It regenerates more quickly, it heals, and…it’s rumoured to be a great aphrodisiac.”

Buffy pulled back, sucking her chest in, trying to get as much room as she could between herself and the sword. To her surprise, the sword dropped, and the vamp stepped forward, his fangs beared.

“It occurs to me that you probably have the amulet on you right now. But…seeing as you’re not really in a giving mood tonight, I’m thinking we should take you back to our master and see what he says. Cos honestly, I’m thinking that a Slayer would make the most brilliant pet. And I wanna see if I can make you bark.”

He grinned and pulled the Slayer forward and, quickly before Buffy could regain her footing, her threw her into a sharp corner of the crypt, knocking her out cold.

~*~

“These are all the diaries then, yours included?” Wesley asked, flipping through pages upon pages of neatly written entries.

“That’s everything,” Giles confirmed. “Knock yourself out. Please.”

Wesley ignored the snide comment and opened to the front of Giles’ first diary. “Yesss, here’s your first entry,” Wesley said. “‘Slayer is wilful and insolent’,” he read. “That would be our girl wouldn’t it?”

Giles glared at him for having the impudence of calling Buffy ‘ours’. Buffy was not Wesley’s Slayer, nor was she the Council’s Slayer. She was his and his alone.

“You have to get to know her,’ Giles said, wishing he had never written the first entry, or allowed Wesley to read it.

“Mmm, ‘Her abuse of the English language is such that I understand only every other sentence,’” he continued. Giles had to wonder whether Wesley got off on torturing Giles so blatantly. “This is going to be fascinating reading.”

“She should be back by now,” Giles said, not only concerned for his Slayer’s well being, but wanting desperately to change the topic.

Wesley glanced down at his watch nonchalantly. “Not to fret. My mission scenario has her back in one minute. Shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Giles frowned, wishing that he could knock this young Watcher over the head, teach him that Buffy wasn’t just a Slayer. She was a person, a growing woman, and no matter what Wesley thought, Buffy belonged to Giles.

But all Giles could do for now was pace.

~*~

Buffy groaned and tried to sit up, wishing that the throbbing headache would go away. Before she could even open her eyes to gain her bearings, she felt a tight grip on her neck and she was pulled to her feet.

She glared at her attacker and went to strike out at him, only to find that her hands were bound to a wall, and she had no way of possibly winning in her position.

“Balthazar will be thrilled to have you as a prize. Now that he has his amulet, he will reign. And you, dear Slayer, will die.”

The vampires voice was deep, raspy, mocking her with no trace of compassion whatsoever. She looked up as she heard more footsteps in the room. Three other vamps in Eliminati uniforms entered the room and grabbed hold of her, untying the chains. She struggled against them, but stopped in shock as a hand slapped her face forcefully.

“You must face your destiny Slayer. For as it was written, one of power, so pure and true will join the ranks of El Eliminati, and they will be the one to bring Balthazar his power once more,” the vamp said.

She glared at him and spat quickly in his face, recoiling away and preparing herself for another hit. It didn’t come. Instead the vampire laughed.

“You’ve got spunk, Slayer. I’m sure he’ll like it.”

She felt herself being lifted and dragged from the room, her hands still bound, her head still pounding. They took her through a small hallway, cobwebs and dust lurking in the corners. A door opened and she was thrown to the floor in front of a large well, a hugely obese demon sitting inside, his short arms flailing about him as he spoke.

“Ahhh, the Slayer,” he said, his voice quiet, but still commanding. “Not only do you bring me my amulet, but you bring me my salvation as well. Yance, you have served me well.”

The vamp who stood directly behind Buffy nodded, and stepped forward and Balthazar beckoned him to come closer.

“You will have the honour of teaching her. You will be her sire. And she will be…whatever you wish.”

The vampire, Yance, smiled and turned to look at Buffy, suddenly able to smell fear. He hadn’t smelt it upon her all night, but suddenly, at the thought of being turned, her entire being reeked of it.

Yance yanked her to her feet and watched as, even in her fear, she glared at him defiantly.

He smirked and touched her neck, enjoying the flinch away from his touch, the fear in her eyes. Her heart was beating rapidly, her blood pumping furiously.

“I think I shall enjoy this,” he whispered for only the Slayer to hear. “A lot.”

She closed her eyes, hoping against hope that it would be quick, painless. When the Master had bitten her, it had been over in seconds, though he had not drained her, just weakened her defences, and her spirits.

Yance bit into her and sunk his teeth in deeply, drinking her and savouring the taste. Buffy tried to cry out, but couldn’t find her voice.

The vampires stared at the drinking vamp in jealousy, wanting to drain the blood of the Slayer as well. Balthazar could only smile as he saw the Slayer stop her struggle and let her knees begin to give.

Yance let her go and she fell to the floor, her eyes trying to open, trying to force herself to stay alive. She vaguely saw the vampire standing over her and watched as he withdrew his short sword. She winced as she saw him cut a line across his wrist and kneel beside her.

He held his wrist above her lips and watched as the blood poured around her mouth. Buffy refused to open her lips, refused to taste even a little of the vamps blood, her Slayer instincts telling her to die with dignity. Yance saw her resolve to not drink and his other hand darted towards her face, clamping her nose so she had no choice but to open her mouth.

As she did, she could feel the vampires cool blood drip onto her tongue, the bitter taste making her want to gag. She tried to struggle, but she had no strength left.

She swallowed a mouthful of the vamps blood, her body trying to stay alive but not letting her choke to death. As she swallowed Yance’s blood, the vampire could only give an evil grin, knowing that he had defeated the Slayer for good.

After another mouthful, Yance stood up and left the Slayer lying there, her skin beginning to go cold, her breathing becoming strained, and suddenly, he heard her heart stop beating.

Yance looked to Balthazar for approval. “Well done Yance. She is your responsibility. It is you she will look to.”

Yance grinned and nodded, fully accepting the responsibility. He took hold of the girl, gently picking her up. The other vamps could only watch as he left the room, the young girl in his arms.

Balthazar looked around the room in disgust at the other vampires. “Let Yance be an example to you all. He has turned a Slayer and you…you have done nothing. In a few hours, my power will be completely restored, and you will be nothing but my acolytes. Yance and the Slayer will be…everything you are not.”

~*~

Giles paced across the library, wishing that his Slayer would hurry up and call or rush into the library, holding the amulet in her hands.

He looked up as he heard the doors swing open and was disappointed when he saw Buffy’s demon lover walk through the doors, a concerned expression on his face.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Where is she?” Angel asked, not hiding his concern.

“What business is it of yours?” Wesley asked from behind the vampire.

Angel turned to stare at Wesley who took an involuntary step back.

“New Watcher?”

“New Watcher,” Giles replied.

“Does everybody know about Buffy?” Wesley asked.

“What did you want to tell us?” Giles asked to the vampire.

“Bathlazar’s back and he wants blood. Specifically Buffy’s. A couple of vamps said that he was destined to rise and come back at full force,” Angel said.

Giles looked at him, wondering why any other vampires would talk with a soulful vampire who helped the Slayer. It occurred to him that even Angel had it in him to torture another living creature.

“Destined, you say?” Wesley asked.

Giles looked towards Angel, panicked. He raced into his office in the library and pulled down an ancient book, flipping through the pages. He went back towards the main room and sat at the desks.

“The codex,” Angel said softly.

Wesley looked towards where Giles was reading the text carefully, Giles’ face ashen.

Giles looked up at Angel, trying to find his voice.

“We have to find her. Fast!”

Angel nodded, not questioning the librarian who looked as though he would tear off the head of anyone who got in his way. Giles quickly grabbed a crossbow and a medium sized battle axe, throwing the axe to Angel, who caught it deftly.

“Any idea where they are?” Giles asked, walking quickly out of the library.

“They’re at a factory on Henry St,” he replied, wondering what was written in the codex to make him this concerned for his Slayer.

“We have to hurry,” Giles said.

Angel could only nod and look over his shoulder as he saw Wesley sit at the table, his eyes glancing through the codex. Angel saw the look on Wesley’s face become panicked and could tell that if this new Watcher was concerned, then Angel should be as well.

“Giles?” Angel said, as they raced out the school building towards Giles’ car.

Giles quickly jumped into the car and started it, waiting only a moment for Angel to get in as well.

“What did the codex say?”

Giles stared straight ahead as they raced towards Henry Street, ignoring a red light and nearly running into another car.

Giles ignored Angel’s question, the answer too painful for him to speak aloud. He quickly pulled into a parking spot outside the factory and knew that he would kill every creature in sight to save his Slayer.

He stopped just outside the door, listening what was going on inside.

“I have my amulet,” he heard someone say. Balthazar. “My restoration will soon be complete!”

Angel looked towards Giles. “What now?”

“We have to get the amulet off him,” Giles said.

“And Buffy?”

Giles didn’t speak, instead he opened the door quietly, hoping that they would be able to use an element of surprise against the vampires.

Angel followed silently and watched as Giles quickly took out two vamps with the crossbow, leaving eight other vampires staring at them in anger.

“Kill them!” cried Balthazar, angry that he didn’t have the power to move from his pool of water.

The vamps advanced in a circle, weapons drawn. Angel quickly attacked two vamps at once, using his battle axe to decapitate their heads. Four down, six to go.

Angel had his back to Giles, but heard two more ‘whumps’ as two more vamps were dusted by the crossbow that the Watcher was carrying.

Four more. Angel smiled, thankful that the odds had been brought down in their favour. He vamped out and attacked two more vampires, hitting one in the chest with a stake and striking the other with the battle axe at his neck.

Angel turned to see Giles take out another vampire with the crossbow and watched as he threw the crossbow to the ground and faced off with the last remaining vampire, a sword from one of the dusted Eliminati in his hands.

Giles was quick with the sword, attacking and defending himself with skill that even Giles hadn’t known he had possessed. Angel watched as Giles struck the vampire with a sword to the gut, and while the vamp was doubled over in pain, Giles pushed a stake through the vamps back, directly into his heart.

Giles turned, his eyes flashing with anger as he faced the demon who was sitting in the pool of water, angry and flailing about, unable to move properly.

“Where is she?” Giles asked, his voice low and menacing.

“She ran. Coward that she is,” Balthazar answered. “The amulet is ours, and she ran for her life.”

Giles glared at the obese demon and quickly ran his sword through the demon’s gut. Balthazar just laughed and held the sword in as Giles tried to pull it out.

“You’ll need a little more than that, Watcher.”

It was Angel who swung quickly towards a rope that was holding up an electric light. He cut the rope and let the light fall into the water, electrocuting the demon.

Giles sighed in relief and watched as Angel de-vamped.

“We still have to find her,” Angel whispered, tempted to put a comforting hand on the Watcher’s shoulder, but knowing that any such contact from him would lead to Giles probably killing Angel without thinking.

“And we will.”

Giles began walking out, stooping down to pick up his crossbow. He stopped as he saw a shiny necklace lying on the ground. He picked it up and felt his heart begin to race.

“She was here,” Giles said.

“How do you know?” Angel asked.

Giles showed Angel the cross, one that was familiar to him. He had given it to Buffy after their first meeting three years ago.

“There’s blood on it,” Angel said.

“Hers?”

Angel nodded, knowing Buffy’s scent better than anyone.

“We have to hurry then.”

As they raced towards the door to begin their search for the Slayer, neither one noticed the last remaining Eliminati standing in the shadows, watching as they left to search for a girl who was already dead.

~*~

Wesley looked up at the doors as he saw Giles come in with the young man who had entered the library before, claiming that Balthazar was back.

Giles glared at Wesley, hoping against hope that Buffy had come back to the library.

“Is she back yet?” Angel asked.

Wesley looked between the two of them, slightly surprised. He had assumed that Giles had found the Slayer and sent her home.

“She’s not with you?” Wesley asked.

“We couldn’t find her,” Giles admitted, sitting down tiredly in a seat.

Angel paced nervously behind Giles. Giles had never seen the vampire look so worried in his life.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Wesley said.

Giles could only glare and pray to whatever higher power there was that his Slayer would come back to him.

Giles went to tell Angel to go home, there was nothing more to be done, but he was cut off by the phone ringing in his office.

Giles was on his feet, racing towards the phone.

“Buffy?!”

“Rupert, Travers here. Is Wesley with you?”

Giles groaned. Quentin Travers. His night couldn’t get any worse.

“He arrived this morning,” Giles said, not hiding his disdain for both Wesley and Travers.

“Get him for me, Rupert. I need to speak to him,” Travers said.

The tone in his voice made Giles’ heart stop.

“He’s not here. I’ll pass on a message,” Giles lied.

“I can tell you’re lying Rupert. No matter. You have to be told anyway,” Travers said.

Giles swallowed hard, waiting for the words that would shatter his soul.

“A new Slayer’s been called.”

Giles felt his world begin to crumble. He moved the receiver away from his ear and felt the room beginning to spin. He didn’t even hear Travers calling out his name.

Without even thinking, Giles threw the phone at the wall violently and fell to his knees.

Angel raced into the room and saw Giles on his knees, his eyes staring, unfocused at the wall in front of him.

“Giles?” Angel asked softly.

Giles looked up, startled by someone else’s presence.

“A new Slayer’s been called.”

CHAPTER TWO: KILLED

It was at that exact moment that Willow and Xander walked through the library doors.

They saw a younger man standing in the doorway to Giles office, standing near Angel.

“Angel?” Willow called out tentatively.

Angel turned to the young girl, anger in his eyes. Willow almost took a step back, recognising the look in his eyes. The look that only Angelus got.

His eyes immediately softened as he saw the young girls fear.

“What’s going on?” Xander asked, oblivious to Willow’s fear. “Who’s he?”

Wesley looked at the two youths, obviously students from the school.

“Wesley Wyndam-Price,” Wesley said. “I’m…Mr Giles assistant.”

Xander looked at Angel. “New Watcher?”

Angel nodded and Wesley looed at the two youths.

“You know about…vampires?” Wesley asked.

Willow shrugged and stepped closer to Giles office, wondering where he was, why he hadn’t greeted them.

She gasped as she saw Giles kneeling on the floor, his head in his hands, his body wracking with sobs.

She raced to him, shoving Angel and Wesley out of the way, kneeling beside him and putting her arms around him.

“Giles, what happened?” she asked desperately.

She got no answer from the distraught man. She looked towards Angel who she saw had tears in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt her heart beginning to race, fear building in her throat.

“Angel, what happened?”

“The Watcher’s Council just called,” Angel said softly. “They’ve called a new Slayer.”

Xander shrugged from behind them. “Help for the Buffster. S’bout time. What’s so bad about that?”

Wesley looked towards the young man who had spoken so glibly.

“Slayer’s are only called when the old Slayer dies,” Wesley said, unsure of why had had broken the news gently to this boy in front of him.

Angel saw Xander falter, heard Xander’s breathing become short gasps of shocked breath. Angel raced to the boy’s side and helped him into a seat. Xander could only stare blankly in the direction of the new Watcher.

Xander’s eyes closed, the pain of her death sinking in, gradually becoming more and more.

It was only Angel who heard the teenager whisper her name softly before standing up and running out of the library.

~*~

It was dark as she opened her eyes, but gradually, everything became clearer. Her mind was fuzzy, images coming to her in flashes.

She could see people in uniforms, their faces deformed. Vampires, her foggy mind whispered to her. It was then that her memory cut out and went into blackness.

She felt a cool hand touch her back and she turned, seeing someone’s silhouette in the darkness.

“Hungry?” the voice asked.

With that one word, everything came flooding back to her. Her mission from Wesley, the new Watcher with the British flag lodged firmly up his backside. Giles telling her to follow Wesley’s orders, though he was reluctant to let her go. The El Eliminati and Balthazar. The amulet. The amulet which she had died for.

It was then that the truth hit her like a sleight train. She had been turned.

She cautiously ran her tongue over her teeth and felt the blood that had been spilt from the small cut that had just come to her tongue.

She looked towards the vampire, her sire, and nodded almost reluctantly. She couldn’t understand. She wanted, needed blood, but…the thought of killing anyone…of killing Willow, or Xander or…Giles! She couldn’t do it!

Could vampires keep their souls, she wondered. Angel had been cursed with his human soul, but…that was a special circumstance.

But she was the Slayer. Special circumstances abounded with her.

“We’ll find you someone to eat then,” the vampire said to her.

She was surprised that his voice wasn’t more rough, more threatening. It was nothing like the voice that had taunted her when she had been beaten. His voice was soothing, comforting to her. Almost as though he were speaking to his own child.

‘Or childe,’ her inner-voice whispered.

He helped her to her feet and softly put his lips to her neck, licking the place where he had bitten her before. Buffy couldn’t help but give a small murmur of pleasure as he suckled as a sensitive spot on her now cool body.

“First, a small game,” he whispered against her neck.

She felt her head roll backwards, letting him have better access to her neck.

“Your first meal should be memorable,” he whispered, gently biting into her neck. She whimpered, feeling none of the pain that had coursed through her body when he had bitten her before.

“Your Watcher,” he whispered, bringing his lips to hers, letting her taste her own blood. She felt a jolt go through her body and found herself clinging to him, her hands running down the other vampires body.

“Not yet,” she whispered back, openly defying her sire, even though her demon was screaming not to. But why would she follow the rules now when she hadn’t as a Slayer?

“You have others plans?” he whispered, grinning as he felt the vamped Slayer disrobing him.

“Much better plans,” she whispered seductively.

She brought her lips to his neck and bit down, not bothering to be gentle, only wanting to curb the bloodlust that was coursing through her body. Was this what Angel had felt like every time he was near her? To take as much as he possibly could, regardless of the consequences?

Buffy looked around behind her and saw a broken chair that looked as though it had been splintered in a fight. She pushed the vampire – she realised she didn’t even know her sires name – down onto the ground, straddling him. She leant across him, allowing him to gaze openly at her chest.

She stretched and reached a broken leg of the chair, moaning loudly to hide the sound as she yanked it away from the rest of the splinters.

She leant down and bit the other side of the vampire’s neck, taking another mouthful before pulling back.

The vampire looked up at her, eyes wide with lust. She grinned and winked at him. Before he knew what was happening, he felt the broken chair leg enter his chest. Buffy fell to the ground as her sire’s body crumpled to dust beneath her.

She held back a sob but felt tears course down her cheeks. Not for what she had become, but for what she had just destroyed only seconds ago. Her sire. Her maker.

Angel had said that there was always a bond between sire and childe, but never had he said it was so painful. Angel had killed his own sire two years ago, but only now did Buffy realise how painful it must have been for him to plunge the stake through her heart.

“I’m sorry Yance,” she whispered, finally remembering her sire’s name. She stood up and brushed the dust off her pants.

She looked around her, her only thought of what to do next was to see Giles.

She tried to stop her legs from walking there, knowing that only badness could come from seeing her Watcher. But she had cured her bloodlust by feeding off her sire, his blood tasting sweet and bitter at the same time. It hadn’t been warm, but it had quenched the hunger that had threatened to overtake her body.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly, trying to control everything within herself. Again, she ran her tongue over her teeth, and smiled happily when she saw that her fangs had resided.

Vampire or Slayer, she had to see her Watcher. Her bond to him was far stronger than her bond to her sire.

~*~

There was an unnerving silence in the library. Willow and Xander sat on the carpeted stairs, identical looks on their faces. Shocked, but tearless. Neither one wanted to believe that Buffy was gone. If the Slayer couldn’t survive, then what chance did they have?

Giles had ensconced himself in his office, wishing that the hellmouth would open and swallow him whole. His Slayer was dead. His better half. The one person he had spent twenty five years training to protect and the day he had handed her over to another Watcher, she had been killed.

And he had yet to see her body.

His thought focused on her. Had she been frightened? Had she died fighting? Had she been trying to protect that bloody amulet that Wesley had wanted her to get? Had she been drained? Or had her neck been snapped, like Jenny’s?

His thoughts of her death haunted him and he knew he wouldn’t get any rest until her knew exactly what had happened. He hadn’t believed a word of what Balthazar had said about her running from the El Eliminati. It wasn’t in her nature to run.

Was it Balthazar that had killed her? Or had it been one of the minions? Was it fast? Slow?

His thoughts never even allowed him to think that she may have been turned.

Outside, Wesley was pacing, his head pounding incessantly. He had spoken to the girl once and sent her to her death. The only thing that he could think was that the Council had planned it to be exactly like that. They knew that Wesley hadn’t completed his training. When Wesley had been told that he would be the Slayer’s new Watcher, he had been ecstatic, but then the shock had set it.

Why hadn’t they sent someone who knew more about the occult, more about the hellmouth? More about anything and everything? Wesley knew that Travers had it in for both Buffy and Giles, and even though he could see why Travers had a dislike for the girl, she hadn’t deserved to die for it. It was only her loyalty to Giles that made her obstinately stubborn.

Angel could only pace the room, wondering the same things that Giles was wondering. But his mind was letting him think that Buffy had been turned. Some sick part of him, the demon Angelus, was wishing that she had been turned. An eternity with her, and no worrying about her not growing old.

Of course, there was still the happiness clause to his curse that had to be worked around.

Angel suddenly screamed loudly and tossed a vase across the room, startling everyone. His eyes flashed a violent yellow, his fangs and ridges coming over his face.

Wesley jumped at the sight of Angel’s fangs.

“You…you’re…how…”

Angel glared at the young Watcher, his soul not caring if he dispatched of the man who he knew had sent Buffy to her death.

Angel turned away. Willow hid hear face in Xander’s shirt and let her tears finally come out. Angel’s outburst had finally made it real. The normally composed vampire had confirmed everything for her.

Xander closed his eyes and let his friend sob into his shirt. Somehow, he knew that nothing could have been worse than this day.

~*~

Oz parked the van and hopped out, pushing his keys into his pocket. He went to walk into the back entrance of the library but stopped as he saw the blonde Slayer walking towards him.

“Hey Oz,” she said brightly.

“Buffy,” he greeted.

He held the door open to her and felt something different about her as she walked past him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Though, he had always felt a little different around her. Something in the wolf recognising the Slayer.

It had never been that strong a reaction though. He shrugged, thinking that it was only because he had never really been physically close to her before.

They walked through the stacks, making their way to the main area of the library.

Suddenly, a sob broke out in the silence, and Oz leapt forward, pushing Buffy slightly and racing towards the sound of his girlfriend’s cries.

“Willow!” he cried. Buffy stood back a little and watched through slits in the bookshelf as Oz cradled her in his arms. She stayed hidden, not wanting to intrude on a moment like that.

“What happened?” Oz asked softly.

Buffy frowned as she realised that normally she couldn’t have heard such a soft question. Vampire hearing.

“They…called…a…new…Slayer,” Willow said, sobs wracking her body as she clung to Oz.

Oz looked at her, questioning why that was so important.

Wesley stepped forward, seeing that no one else in the room would be able to explain. “They only call a new Slayer when the old one dies,” he explained.

Oz turned to look at the British man, feeling a wave of hatred come over him, something he hadn’t felt without a full moon before.

He gently pushed Willow away from him, kissing her forehead softly before standing up. He stalked over to the new Watcher, his emotions showing very clearly.

“You asshole!” Oz yelled.

Willow and Xander stared at Oz, unsure of what to make of the usually stoic and silent boy who was now looking as though he wanted to kill Wesley.

“Is this some sort of a sick joke to you?” Oz yelled.

Willow stood up, going to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

“Oz,” she whispered.

He turned to her, his eyes becoming gentle in an instant.

“I’m sorry Will, but…he’s lying to you!”

Willow looked at him, unable to think, unable to speak.

The door to the library office opened and Giles finally emerged, taking in the emotion that ran through the room.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice raw, his eyes red from crying.

No one spoke for a long time until Wesley cleared his throat. “This…young chap seems to think I’m a liar.”

“He is!” Oz yelled. Giles looed towards him, surprised by the youth’s emotional outburst. “I saw Buffy as I came in!”

Giles looked up sharply, as did Angel.

The Watcher felt his heart begin to sink as the thoughts he had forbidden himself to think suddenly became very real. “Dear god,” he whispered.

Giles eyes shut and he felt himself beginning to sway. Xander was on his feet in a heartbeat, going to help Giles stay standing.

Giles shook off the boy and reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a wooden cross from his inside pocket.

He opened his eyes and slowly made his way up the stairs, past where Willow was sitting, still shocked by everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

Giles only had to make one turn before he saw his sweet Slayer standing there, looking a little lost.

He felt his breath catch in his throat. She was the same. She didn’t have her fangs beared. She looked just as she had when she had walked into the library for the first time two and a half years ago.

“Buffy,” he whispered.

She took a step towards him and stopped when Giles held the cross in front of him, his hands shaking terribly.

Angel came up behind him, and felt his soul aching as he thought that his Buffy had been turned into the creature that she had protected so many others from.

“Go away,” he heard her whisper.

“I’m sorry Buffy, but I can’t do that,” Giles said forcefully.

“I didn’t mean you,” she said softly.

Angel looked at her pained but saw that that Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes. He hesitated, but nodded, leaving her and the Watcher alone.

She closed her eyes and put her hands out, waiting for Giles to stake her. Silently begging him to do it.

She didn’t understand what was happening, had no idea what was happening to her body. She felt so in control, so like her old self. But she could feel something inside her as well. Something that didn’t belong to her. Something that she couldn’t get rid of.

So this is how Angel felt, she mused. Constantly fighting to keep the demon under control.

Buffy opened her eyes to see Giles still standing there, a stake in his hands now as well.

He stepped forward, the cross still between them, but Buffy didn’t even flinch. Giles took another step forward but found that the cross did nothing to her.

“Buffy!” he yelled, throwing the cross to her, just as he’d throw a ball to a small child.

Out of pure reflex she caught the cross with her right hand and looked at him surprised. He was staring down at her hand that was still holding the cross.

He looked up at her, unsure of what to think.

“You are-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. Couldn’t even think of the words that he wanted to use to complete the rest of his sentence. There was so much to say, but those two words conveyed everything that had to be said.

She nodded, unable to form words. She held the cross out to him, her hand not even tingling.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

Giles swallowed nervously. He clenched his hand in a fist and backhanded her across the face. Her demon appeared and subsided in a heartbeat. Or one of Giles’ heartbeats. It was in that second that the cross burned her, but immediately stopped.

Buffy closed her eyes, tears stinging them. He had hit her. Giles had hit her. She touched the spot where his hand had hit, wishing he would stake her instead of beating her to death.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No,” he said sharply, not hesitating as he pulled her towards him, his arms going around her to hug her to him tightly.

Her eyes went to his neck and she felt a pull towards it. She jumped away from him suddenly and turned her face, not wanting to admit her weakness to her Watcher.

He went to touch her but stopped, knowing that she was struggling with everything inside of her not to turn around and kill him.

“Bloody vampire,” Giles said softly.

Buffy turned to him, hurt, thinking he had meant her.

“Not you,” he amended. He looked at her lovingly, wishing he had been there to help her. Wishing that the vampire who had done this to her had just killed her instead of adding extra torture to her already pain-riddled life.

“Whoever did this to you should have known not to turn a Slayer,” he said softly.

She looked at him searchingly.

“Has anyone ever turned a Slayer before?” she asked.

He nodded softly. “Only once. She killed herself once she realised what had happened. No vampire has ever tried it since then.”

She nodded, understanding the feeling of wanting to kill herself. How easy would it be to sit in the sun and just let herself burn away to nothing but a pile of dust.

“No one’s entirely sure what happens when a Slayer’s turned,” Giles said. His curious nature was wondering what his Slayer was going through, but his protective side of him wanted to stop every hurtful thing that was going through her right now.

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“You wanna know?” she asked.

He nodded softly, unsure of what he would hear. Uncertain that he even wanted to know anymore.

“It’s like having everything you’ve ever been taught pulled away from you. Like you’re very being is trying to contend with something inside of you. It’s like I’m being pulled away from where I’m trying to go. It’s like the only thing I can hear in my mind is this little voice telling me to drink, to take what I want, what I need. That’s why I pushed you away,” she admitted.

He nodded, already knowing her reasons for breaking their earlier embrace.

“Part of me is screaming to get rid of this thing inside me. To just rip that stake out of your hand and do it myself. And the other part of me is telling me to just go with it. Just stop resiting and stop the hurt that it’s causing and take it. It wants to kill you,” she said tearfully.

She stepped back, not wanting him to come any closer. She could smell him, hear his heart pumping the blood. She could see the veins in his neck pulsing. She closed her eyes and tried to drown out the sound.

Giles watched as she went through painful internal conflictions, the demon fighting for dominance, but the Slayer beating it back into submission. After what seemed like minutes, she fell to her knees, the Slayer having won the battle, but neither Buffy nor Giles knew how long it would be before the demon would win.

“Please help me,” she whispered, her hands covering her tear streaked face.

Giles could only kneel down beside her and gently touch her shoulder.

“We’ll get through this. I swear to you.”

~*~

Giles walked around from the stacks, leaving his Slayer only for a moment. He had explained that he was sending the others home.

He looked at the silent group who had no idea what was going on.

“It’d be best if you all went home,” he said quietly.

Willow stood up, her eyes searching his, wanting answers. She couldn’t speak the words she wanted to say though. All that she knew for sure was that Buffy was standing in the library, but that she had died only hours earlier. Meaning that the Slayer had become the very thing she hated.

The thing that she had nightmares about.

Wesley looked at Giles defiantly, his eyes accusing the tired man who wanted nothing more than for this horrid nightmare to come to an end. He would have much preferred to have shot up in bed in a horrible sweat than to have to try and get his Slayer through the worst thing that could possibly happen to her.

“I’m not leaving you in here alone with that…that…creature!” Wesley said.

Giles was at the younger mans’ throat in seconds. “You will watch what you say about her!”

Wesley looked taken aback at Giles defending a vampire. It had shocked him that Angel was a vampire, but to have the Slayer one as well. And to have a Watcher defending a turned Slayer was something that was unheard of.

“I know you were attached to the girl, but she’s dead!” Wesley hissed, his Watcher training coming through.

“She is not dead! She is still in there!” Giles said, challenging Wesley to prove him otherwise.

“You know that’s not true,” Wesley said.

“It is! I threw a cross to her and she caught it. Nothing happened. Nothing. No pain,” Giles said.

“She was a Slayer, of course she’s got a high tolerance of pain,” Wesley said.

“No burning. I hit her, and the demon came out. It hissed and went back inside. Nothing,” Giles said.

“Mr. Giles, listen to yourself! She’s got a demon inside of her!” Wesley said.

Angel stepped forward and placed himself between the two Watchers. He turned to Wesley and glared at him hard.

“Just because she’s got a demon doesn’t mean that she’s evil. She was a Slayer, and all vampires know that Slayers don’t ever turn properly. That’s why no one turns Slayers unless they’re absolutely insane,” Angel said, defending the small blonde vampire who was probably listening to every word, half afraid that they would kill her, half wishing that they would.

“She’s fighting it, Wesley! She was turned not three hours ago, and already she has control of it! She doesn’t want to hurt us,” Giles explained.

Willow stood up and made her way to where the three highly strung men were standing.

“Giles,” she started softly. The Watcher turned to look at her, fear in the young girls eyes. “Giles, do you really…I mean…you’ve said yourself that vampires have characteristics of the person. That they still have the memories. The demon…it could…what if it’s playing on your attachment to her?”

Giles glared at her, appalled that she could even suggest such a thing.

“Do you really think that Buffy would have wanted to live like this? As a demon?” Wesley asked, his voice suddenly considerably calmer.

Giles breathed deeply, trying to keep the urge to hit his replacement Watcher.

“You don’t know her. You didn’t see her. She’s still Buffy!”

Xander stepped forward timidly, hating to agree with the new Watcher and betray Giles, but knowing that when Buffy was concerned, Giles didn’t think straight. “Giles…don’t you remember what she said her worst nightmare was? She’s living it now, do you honestly think that’s what she wants?”

“She wants our help, Xander,” Giles snapped. “She asked me to help her!”

Giles stared at the group desperately, wishing he knew what to do. How could they ask him to put a stake through his Slayer’s heart? How could they ask him to destroy the thing that he had given up his entire life for?

Giles just shook his head and started walking back up towards the stacks.

“I suggest you just go home. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said sadly.

The group could only stare as he walked around the corner and heard a quiet whispering of comforting words coming from the Watcher.

Willow closed her eyes and felt her legs beginning to give way. She grabbed hold of Oz who quickly caught her.

“We should go,” Xander said quietly.

Oz gave a single nod and led Willow away from the library, tears streaming down Willow’s cheeks.

Wesley looked between the stacks and the door. Angel was also torn between staying and leaving.

Wesley eyed the vampire, suddenly uncomfortable in his presence.

“Is it true?” Wesley finally asked, having to know. “What you said about Slayers never being turned properly?”

Angel nodded and stared at the bookcase where Giles and Buffy had hidden themselves behind.

“Only one other Slayer has ever been turned, and…she couldn’t live with what she had become. The night after her funeral she just sat on her headstone, her Watcher standing beside her. She waited for the sun, and…she killed herself,” Angel said.

Wesley eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know so much about it?”

Angel sighed softly, knowing that that question would come eventually.

“She was sired by a childe of mine. An insane vampire by the name Drusilla.”

Wesley gasped a little and looked at Angel. “You’re Angelus?”

“Not anymore,” Angel said. “I have a soul. It seems that Slayers keep their souls after being turned as well.”

“So, she has no desire to kill?” Wesley asked.

Angel looked at the Watcher, despising the ignorance and arrogance of the man. “I never said that.”

CHAPTER THREE: TURNED

The black Desoto sped onto the main street of Sunnydale, the peroxide blonde vampire grinning as he knocked down the ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign for the third time.

Sunnyhell more like it, he thought.

He grinned as he thought about how brilliant it would be to take out some more of his frustration on the Slayer and her little band of Slayerettes. This time, though, he’d be concentrating more on killing the Slayer. Her friends, while they did look tasty, just wasn’t what he was after.

He wanted Slayer’s blood. It had been so long since his last taste of it, and his body was craving it desperately.

Of the two Slayer’s he had killed, her had only drained one. He regretted wasting such powerful blood the second time, but the crack of the Slayer’s neck as he had broken her for a final time had been just what he needed to hear.

It was funny, he had killed those other two Slayer’s the first time he had met them. They hadn’t known him, and he hadn’t known them. But he knew Buffy. Knew her name, knew her weaknesses. Knew everything about her and had seen her at her worst points in life. And still he couldn’t defeat her.

But it was gonna be different this time, he vowed.

He wouldn’t rest until she was dead.

________________________

Giles stroked the young girl’s hair, whispering soothing words to her, though he couldn’t recall what he had been saying for the last few hours.

It hadn’t mattered though. His Slayer had calmed herself down, had dried her tears and had looked up at him.

It was almost easy to forget that only a few hours ago, he had been delivered the horrible news by the Council. Since then, his world had crashed around him and had only just begun to pickup. Though how he could get her through being turned was going to be a difficult process. One that he wasn’t entirely convinced he could succeed with.

Giles stifled a yawn and Buffy looked at him guiltily.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She began standing up and offered him her hand to get up with. He took it, not wishing to offend her by suggesting that he didn’t trust her.

“You should go home,” she told him.

He went to protest but Buffy covered his mouth with her hand.

“None of that. Go home. Sleep. I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Where will you go?” he asked.

“Home maybe,” she said.

He went to say something but paused, wishing that he didn’t have to tell her that she wouldn’t be welcome in her own home.

“Buffy-” he stopped.

She understood him without him saying another word.

“Oh…right. Yeah, of course. That was…wow, that was really silly of me,” she said softly.

“Stay with me,” he said simply, not offering her a bed, but telling her that she would be welcome at his place.

“No, Giles. I can’t. I shouldn’t be around you. Or anyone. I can’t…I can’t control this thing and…I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said, fearful that she would kill herself. Stake through the heart, sunlight. A combination of both maybe. It was easy for her now. Quick, effortless. Very little fuss for anyone. Only a lot of pain.

“I can look after myself,” she said.

He hesitated but saw that she wasn’t going to agree to staying with him.

“Promise me that you’ll find some shelter before dawn. If anything were to happen…if I were to lose you again…Buffy, I almost lost it tonight,” he admitted.

She nodded and took hold of his hand.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not even getting any older,” she whispered, trying to keep things light, but she saw that the tears in her Watcher’s eyes were threatening to fall.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

She shook her head and threw herself towards him, clinging to her Watcher with a desire to comfort him that she hadn’t possessed before. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“Wesley did this to you,” he whispered, his hands finding her face, touching her forehead, wondering how anyone who looked so pure could suddenly change into a creature that had nothing there but a desire to kill.

“If ever I let the demon take over, he’ll be the first to go,” Buffy said, a smile playing about her lips.

Giles just shook his head trying not to laugh. He couldn’t help it though, and through his tears and his laughter, the only thing he could think was that he hadn’t lost her after all.

~*~

Buffy wandered the streets, trying to think everything through. Her logical mind told her that she should just stay outside, not even bother finding shelter at all. The world would be better off with one less vampire in it.

She couldn’t understand what had happened to her, and part of her didn’t want to understand. She wanted to feed…needed the blood more than anything. The demon was chanting to her, feed, kill, take, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She didn’t want anyone to suffer at her own hands.

She turned as she heard a struggle coming from behind a bush. She quickly leapt over it, finding her new speed to be something positive. She saw a vampire standing over a fallen body, blood at the victim’s throat.

Buffy struggled to keep her demon down, and as she saw the other vampire turn, the demon subsided immediately. She was nothing like the creature who had taken the young girls life.

The vampire looked up and grinned cockily at her.

“Slayer,” he said.

“Spike,” she replied, wondering if this night could possibly get any worse.

First she’d been captured, then killed, then turned. Now she had to contend with Spike!

“Dru dump you again?” she asked, trying to keep her eyes away from the blood on the poor girls neck.

“Maybe I dumped her!” Spike yelled, his eyes flashing violently.

She grinned, finally feeling as though she could concentrate her energies onto beating Spike and turning him to dust.

“Another Chaos demon?” she asked.

Spike smirked and, without any further hesitation, jumped towards her, knocking her off balance.

She kicked him away from her, sending him tumbling backwards a little.

“Crikey, when’d you get so bloody strong?” he asked.

She shrugged and kicked him again, sending him sprawling to the ground. He got up quickly enough and turned to face her, trying to work out what difference there was to the Slayer in front of him.

He lunged towards her and pinned her hands together, holding them tightly with one hand, his other hand going to her throat. Suddenly, as though he’d been burned, he stepped back, releasing her from his grip.

“Who did this to you?” he asked angrily.

She looked at him in confusion, not understanding his question or why he seemed so angry.

“Did what?”

Spike looked at her, one scarred eyebrow raised.

“You do know you’re a vampire, right ducks?” he asked.

“Oh…that,” she replied.

“Yeah…that. And if you’re a bloody vampire, how come you’re fighting me?” he asked.

“Cos you’re annoying,” she replied.

Spike stepped forward and grabbed her by the throat. He pushed her against a tree and held her there, looking into her eyes. He found only defiance instead of the fear that would have usually been there.

He brought his mouth to her neck and traced the bites that were still on her neck with his tongue. She whimpered involuntarily and Spike grinned against her neck.

“Like that, do you pet?” he asked.

She tried to push him off her, trying to deny what was inside of her, but he held her against the tree.

“It’s alright luv. You’re allowed to like it,” he said, sucking at her neck. She let her head fall backwards, enjoying the feel of his tongue against her cold neck.

He bit into her gently and growled softly as he heard her give a small murmur of pleasure.

Her blood was still intoxicating, still full of power. It was warmer than usual vampires blood, not entirely at the preferred 98.6, but nowhere near room temperature.

He traced his finger across her neck and smiled as she shivered against his touch. He trailed his fingers in her blood and brought them to his mouth, sucking them slowly. He saw the Slayer-vamp lick her lips, hunger and desire clouding her eyes.

“You want some?” he asked, his voice soft, the voice he usually save for Dru.

She nodded and he brought his fingers to her mouth, letting her suck the blood from his fingertips. She looked him directly in the eye as her tongue darted out and curled around the tips of his fingers.

He withdrew his fingers, earning him a pout from the Slayer.

“Have you fed, pet?” he asked.

She looked at him, confused, unsure of how to answer.

“Didn’t you’re sire give you anything to eat?”

She shrugged and pushed him away from her, but he was still holding her by the waist.

“I ate him. Does that count?”

He shook his head, grinning a little. “That before or after you killed him?”

“Before,” she replied, grinning a little.

He grinned at her and pulled her lips to his, surprised that she let him kiss her, and shocked that she was reciprocating.

“Feisty,” he whispered as Buffy let her lips go down to Spike’s neck.

She suckled at it, not breaking the skin, her blunt teeth nipping at him softly. “Can I?”

He gave a small nod, amazed that she was being subservient to [I]him[/I]. Where was the defiant creature he had met in the alley outside the Bronze so many years ago?

He felt her teeth dig into his neck and a rush of blood went directly to his groin. He groaned and brought her closer to him, his fingers tangling in her hair to bring her mouth closer to his skin.

She drank deeply but pulled herself away, pushing Spike away from her. He was startled by her sudden movements and stumbled backwards.

She looked at him, fearing what she had done, hating that she had been drinking his blood and enjoying it.

Understanding suddenly dawned on the peroxided blonde vampire. “You’ve got your soul.”

Buffy nodded, looking away. The demon inside her was ashamed of the soul, hated it, wanted to overtake her body and cast the soul out, but the Slayer inside was kicking the demon into submission.

“If you ‘adn’t killed your sire, I woulda done it m’self,” Spike said softly. “You don’t turn Slayers. You kill ‘em, sure, but…don’t turn ‘em.”

He stopped forward and touched her arm softly. She went to back away but found herself transfixed by the vampire in front of her.

“You got a place to stay?” he asked.

She hesitated and finally shook her head. He nodded and kissed her forehead gently, surprising both the Slayer and himself. Why he was being like this to an enemy was beyond him, but…he couldn’t leave her out here alone.

“Come with me,” he said, half asking, half commanding.

Neither of them expected her to nod her acceptance and let him take her by the hand.

CHAPTER FOUR: SPIKE

Spike led her towards the old mansion on Crawford St, the place where Angelus had nearly killed her, the place where she had been forced to kill Angel.

She hesitated a moment and Spike stopped beside her. Understanding suddenly dawned on him.

“We can find somewhere else,” he said softly.

Buffy took in a deep un-needed breath and shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

Spike grinned and gave her hand a squeeze.

He looked up at the sky and saw that it was beginning to become extremely light.

“We should hurry,” he said, speeding up their walking pace.

As he entered the mansion and closed the heavy front door behind them, the first rays of sun made their way onto the doorstep of the mansion.

Spike looked at her, suddenly a little un-nerved by everything that had happened.

How, he wondered, had he gone from wanting to kill the Slayer to trying to protect her?

Of course, he hadn’t counted on her being a vampire. Let alone a vampire with a soul.

He stepped forward and bent his mouth to her neck.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Buffy shivered involuntarily as his lips grazed her neck. She whimpered her answer, surprised by how much of an effect that a vampire had over her when his mouth was so close to her. There was no more fear there, only longing.

“I have some blood in the fridge downstairs,” he said.

She hesitated but nodded, following him down the stairs into the area that Acathla had been stored. In a corner, she saw a small bar fridge that looked old and worn out.

Spike led her to it and opened it. Buffy’s demon emerged and disappeared in a matter of seconds as she saw the supply of blood in the fridge. Spike looked at her, confused.

“How long have you been like this?” he asked.

“A few hours,” she replied.

“And you’ve had only your sire’s blood?”

She nodded. “And some of mine.”

Spike nodded thoughtfully and bent down, taking a small package of blood from the fridge. Buffy eyed it, torn between starvation and disgust at her hunger.

“I’ll heat it up, then we eat, kay?”

She nodded and sat herself on a dusty sofa. She leant her head against her arm and closed her eyes momentarily.

Before she knew it Spike was leaning down in front of her, holding a mug of the red blood in front of her. He handed it to her and she took it gratefully.

He smiled and sat next to her as she drank deeply. She forced herself to stop and offered him the remaining half of the cup.

“Already eaten,” he replied simply.

She nodded and finished the mug before it went cold.

She regarded him thoughtfully, wondering why she had never realised how incredibly attractive he was.

He looked at her and gave a small grin. “What are you staring at?”

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

He shrugged, honestly unable to answer her question.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question pet,” he replied.

Buffy bit on her lip and looked away from the blonde vampire. She wished that he would just go away, let her wallow in her own self-pity, but he wasn’t one to just let things be.

“So what’s Peaches up to?” Spike eventually asked.

Buffy glared at him, wishing that the hellmouth would suck either herself or Spike into it.

“How should I know?”

Spike raised his eyebrow at her and shrugged. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked sarcastically. “And we all know how much I wanted you two to work out.”

“What’s it to you anyway?” she asked.

He grinned at her and took the empty mug from her hands. He dipped his finger into the cup and scrapped the remaining blood from the sides, sucking it purposefully slowly.

“Just like teasing.”

Buffy bit back a reply and tried to tear her eyes away from him. There was something to him, some incredible attraction that she was having towards him.

Probably her demon just trying to get a hold of her and force her to do something she didn’t want to do.

‘Keep telling yourself that honey,’ a little voice whispered.

Spike stood up and placed himself in front of her chair.

“Sun’s up, and…now you can’t go and play with all the other kittens anymore, you’re stuck here. With me. All day,” he said. He grinned lasciviously and licked his bottom lip, loving the fact that the Slayer couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth.

He deliberately leant down to her, his hands gently grabbing her tiny waist.

“Wanna play kitten?” he asked, his lips dancing close to her neck.

She could only nod, her Slayer yelling out no while the demon yelled an almighty YES at the top of its lungs.

She let herself be pulled up, an animal instinct making her rush at Spike, her legs going around his waist, her lips attacking his mouth, meeting the force that his lips were dancing at.

Spike was somewhat surprised by the Slayer’s movements and stumbled a little, taking them both to the ground, his back taking the brunt of the fall. Not a single part of him minded the slight weight of the Slayer on his body.

Buffy moved against him, her hips dancing to a rhythm that wasn’t beating. Spike grinned and grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her mouth down to his. His demon appeared for a fraction of a second, blood spilling into their mouths and running deliciously over their duelling tongues.

Buffy pulled back a little, somewhat shocked by the sensations that the peroxide vampire was causing her.

“Hurt did it?” he whispered.

She nodded and grinned a little, somewhat disturbed by how turned on she was by the pain that he was causing her.

“Take your pain Slayer,” he growled, his fangs digging into her neck again, enjoying the gasp of desire that escaped from his lovers throat. “Take it, use it, and bloody well enjoy it.”

She tilted her neck so that she could reach Spike’s own. Her fangs sank into his neck and drank deeply for the second time in under an hour. Blood poured out of her neck into Spike’s mouth, Spike’s blood pouring down her throat. She pulled away and yanked Spike’s mouth away from her neck, her mouth crushing his, forcing him to taste himself while she tasted her own blood on his lips.

She felt a rush of lust run through her body and groaned a little as Spike flipped them over, her small body on the concrete as Spike hovered over her before letting his weight fall on her completely.

“A Slayer’s blood is a powerful aphrodisiac luv,” he whispered.

She swallowed and nodded, unable to form thoughts as Spike quickly removed his red over-shirt and the plain black t-shirt from his body. He grinned and yanked off Buffy’s tank-top, admiring her body for a moment before his hands moved to claim her body as his.

Buffy’s hands moved down his chest, her nails raking small lines across his chest. One nail drew blood and Buffy leant forward to lick it off him, enjoying the small moan that escaped Spike’s mouth. Her hands travelled down further and fumbled in an attempt to remove the vampire’s jeans.

Frustrated, Spike rolled off the Slayer and removed his jeans and turned to take the Slayer’s black stretch pants from her. He grinned as he realised that she was as turned on as he was.

“Tell me what you want Slayer,” he whispered against her lips.

She kissed him roughly and pulled him back on top of her, wanting their skin to touch, desperately craving the warmth that his body was making her feel, even though his body was cold.

“You. Inside.”

He grinned, thankful that she had answered him. “I like the sound of that.”

He grabbed her wrists forcefully and pushed them above her head, entering her roughly. She cried out and found his lips crushed on hers within an instant.

“Spike!”

He groaned, moving inside of her, his grip on her wrists was strong and painful, making him completely dominant over the Slayer. She hated having no control over what was happening, but her body was too caught up in feeling that her mind completely shut down and just let him take her.

He thrust into her, harder and harder, not caring that there would be bruises on the girls body in the morning. The thought that Slayer and vampire healing would make it better flashed through his mind, only making him thrust into her harder.

He let go of her wrists and brought his arms around her back, making her sit up against him, holding her close to him. Buffy couldn’t think and for a moment forgot that she didn’t need to breath any longer.

Their lips battled, dancing, duelling, fighting viciously with each other. Buffy found her hand at the back of Spike’s head, pulling him closer to her, needing for there to be as little room between them as possible.

She couldn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it, but all she wanted was to be as physically close as it was possible to this vampire that was inside of her, making her hot, making her body tremble, making her mind go completely blank.

She felt his hand move between them, his fingers touching her softly, urging her to come to him. Suddenly, his lips were torn from hers, and she felt him biting into her breast, blood flowing from her, as he made her come. She felt Spike climax into her, and slowly withdraw his fangs from her, gently lapping at the tender wound.

He gently let her go, sliding them both back to the cold concrete, sliding out of her, but laying next to her.

Neither knew what to say, but the soft panting that came from both, though neither needed the breath, said all that needed to be said.

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