Slayer of Slayers

AUTHOR: Jypzrose
EMAIL: jypzrose@aol.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
SPOILERS: Through season one, and part of season two.  But I sort of turn it on its ass.
DISCLAIMER: Please, you know the drill.
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Prologue

“Are you sure about this?”  Angel asked Buffy, his dark eyes full of love.  Buffy ran a gentle hand down his cheek, and leaned up to brush his lips with a soft kiss.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She assured him bravely.  Inside, however, she was a nervous wreck.  She knew that she wanted to take the next step in her relationship with Angel.  She and Willow had spent many a night discussing just that.  But now that the time was here, she was afraid.  What if she wasn’t good enough?  He was more than two centuries old, and had probably had many beautiful women, if Darla was anything to go by.  What if he found her sorely lacking.

*Get a grip, Buff. * she told herself, leaning into Angel’s kiss.  With a sigh, she poured all her nervous energy into the kiss, relishing the way his cool tongue felt sliding over hers.

Angel ran his fingertips along her jaw line, down her throat, and to the exposed swell of her breasts.  His heart swelled with the magnitude of the gift she was giving him.  In all his time on earth, he never thought he would be worthy of this small bundle of warmth and love in his arms.  As he continued to tease her mouth with his, he slowly backed her toward his bed, easing her back gently when they reached it.  She sighed once more, and opened her arms to wrap him in her embrace.

He pulled his mouth away from hers, and began to rain light kisses across her skin.  A fluttering started in the pit of her stomach, like a thousand small, electric butterflies had taken up residence.  They made her skin heat, and her blood sing.  As his lips brushed across the skin of her collar bone, she felt the butterflies migrate south to her sex, sending another wave of heat across her body.  She felt her panties become wet as his tongue swept across her soft flesh.

The smell of her arousal washed over him, urging him to hurry.  But, he clamped down on the urgency building inside of him, reminding himself it was her first time.  He left her for a moment to pull off his black shirt, than helped her out of hers.  He stood and just looked at her for a moment, drinking in the beauty of her full, unbound breasts.  Her small, dark nipples peaked under the intensity of his gaze, and she started to grow self conscious.  He pulled the hand she had raised to cover herself away, and knelt gingerly between her legs.  Angel palmed one of the soft mounds, kneading gently, while he captured the taught peak of the other in his mouth.  She hissed in pleasure, her hands burying themselves in his hair to hold him closer.

While she was distracted with the sensations he was causing, he used his other hand to pull her short skirt and panties away.  His mouth traveled to her other breast, repeating his ministrations there until she was whimpering beneath him.  Her hips began to grind against the bed, instinctively seeking friction.  Her innocent movements broke whatever hold he had on his control.  He pulled away long enough to divest himself of his pants.  He then slid up the length of her body, settling himself between her splayed thighs.  Once his hardness touched her swollen heat, her hips moved faster, her juices coating the underside of his cock.

“Wait, Buffy.” He whispered, using a hand to still her actions.  Another few swipes and it would have been over before it had really begun.  It had been to long since he’d last had a woman.  He looked into her eyes, which were half open and clouded with desire.  He leaned down to kiss her, reaching down to position himself at her opening.  He began to ease into her, but Buffy was always impatient.  With one thrust up she impaled herself fully on his erection.  Her scream of pain was quieted by his kiss.  He pulled his mouth away from hers, and peppered butterfly kisses across her tear stained eyes.

“Sh, the worst is over now.” He whispered, laying completely still on top of her.  She nodded silently, her fingers convulsing on his shoulders.  He kissed her again, waiting to feel her relax against him before he started to move.  Slowly he thrust at first, trying to allow her to get used to him.  Hesitantly she began to move under him, fueling his need.  His strokes became longer, and harder, his passion overtaking his want to be easy with her.  She met his movements, her hands running up and down his back in an almost comforting manner.  She kissed him back fervently, losing herself in the new sensation of being filled.  He began to move faster, ripping away from her mouth to roar as he climaxed.

She continued to stroke his back as he shuddered above her, whispering softly into his ear.  She had expected the pain.  What she hadn’t expected was this feeling of unfulfillment that settled over her.  She figured that all those books she’d read had lied.  But, it was nice.  The feeling of him between her legs, and inside of her was pleasant.  The weight of him on top of her felt good.  So, she figured she could do without the fireworks, and crashing waves that all those romance books talked about.  At least she knew she was loved.

“I love you, Buffy.” He whispered, moving his weight off of her.  He shifted to the side, and drew her with him, throwing the blanket over their bodies.

“I love you, too.  Angel.” She answered, snuggling deeper into his embrace.  With a contented sigh, she drifted to sleep.  Angel felt his undead heart sing with happiness as her breathing deepened.  Never in his life had he felt as complete as he did in this moment.  He buried his face into the soft tresses of her hair, breathing deep the scent of vanilla.   He closed his eyes and allowed the sound of her heartbeat, and the steady rhythm of her breathing lull him into blissful slumber.

~*~*~

Angel awoke a short time later, an unsettling feeling washing over him.  He looked down at the sleeping girl next to him.  She seemed all right.  Closing his eyes, he stretched out his senses to see if anything was wrong in the apartment.  Feeling nothing, he slipped gingerly out of bed.  He slipped his pants on, then made sure Buffy was asleep before he left the apartment.

The feeling increased as he walked the perimeter of the building.  It started to feel as if something was crawling around inside of him, struggling to get out.  Realization set in just as a mind numbing pain knifed through his body.  He hit his knees, gasping for unneeded air.  He threw his head back and roared into the cool evening air.

“BUFFY!”

~*~*~

Buffy woke with a start, not entirely sure what had jarred her out of sleep.  Rubbing her eyes, she turned to where Angel should have been.  She jerked back as she spied the now empty half of the bed.  She held the sheet to her body, and stood to walk around the apartment.  He was nowhere to be found.

“Shit.” She hissed, when she saw the time.  Her mother was going to kill her.  Assuming that Angel had just slipped out to the store, or something, Buffy began scrambling into her clothes.  She winced at the unaccustomed soreness between her legs as she moved them into her panties.  Once she was dressed, she grabbed a pen and paper off his desk and wrote a hasty note to tell him she would call him the next day.

Then, with one last glance around the apartment, she slipped out into the night.

~*~*~

“Miss Edith told me you’d come back.” The dark-haired vampiress purred from the bed.  “She told me you’d find me.” She had come to this old mansion on the outskirts of Sunnydale for just that reason.

“Miss Edith always was a smart old girl” Angelus drawled, strolling to the bed.  “How bout giving daddy a kiss hello.”  He gripped her arm and hauled her against his body.  She smiled in wicked delight, her eyes flashing with mad glee.  Her hands fisted in his hair and she crashed her lips against his.  Fangs cut into lips and tongues as they tried to devour each other.

“Welcome home, my Angel” she said when she pulled away, her tongue darting out to lick the blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, Dru.  It’s good to be home.” An evil smirk curved his lip before he kissed her again, pushing them both onto the bed so she could welcome him home properly.

~*~*~

“Angel?”  Buffy called as she pushed open his door.  She had tried calling him several times over the last couple of days, but he hadn’t been answering his phone.  “Angel?” she called again, stepping inside.

“Hello, lover.” She turned toward the sound of his voice.  The smile on her face died when she saw the coldness of his deep brown eyes.

“I. . .I’ve been trying to call,” she began.

“Yeah, I know.  I just didn’t feel like talking.” Angel said, sighing, then smirking.  Buffy’s eyes widened a fraction at the tone of his voice.

“Oh.  Okay.” She could only stare at him.  He was leaning against the back of the couch, his arms crossed over the broad expanse of his chest.  His eyes roamed over her, the look in his eyes causing her to be embarrassed.  Her brows drew together as they continued to regard each other.  “Did I do something wrong?” she heard herself ask, her voice trembling.

“What?  No, you were great.  Really, if I didn’t know you were a virgin, I woulda thought you were a pro.” He grinned at the tears that sprang to her eyes.  “But, I really don’t think we should do it again”

“Why?” she said before she could stop herself.  He actually laughed.

“Well, nice as it was, I really don’t have the time to deal with a girl that doesn’t know the first thing about pleasing a man.”

*But, hadn’t he just said I was good? * she thought to herself.  She then immediately cursed herself for being so dumb.  She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she knew she didn’t want to talk to him while he was acting like this.

“You know what?  I’ll come back later, when you’re in a better mood.”  She fought back the hot tears that were burning her eyes and started toward the door.

“Oh, don’t rush off.” He said, pushing himself away from the couch.  He started to walk toward her, his gait slow and predatory.  She backed up instinctively, realizing her mistake too late when her back hit the closed door. *Didn’t I leave that open? *

Angel rested his palms on either side of her head.  “We’re going to have some fun.” He whispered, pinning her against the wood with his body.  It was then that she saw the other vampire.  The female walked up behind Angel, her musical laughter filling the air.

“You were right, my Angel.  She does look tasty.”  Fear slammed into Buffy when she realized what she had walked into.

“But, how . . . your soul . . . ”

“Is gone.  All thanks to you.  You really know how to fuck the goodness out of a man.”  He chuckled at that, drawing a finger down the curve of her cheek.  She felt her heart shatter in two at his words.  Her Angel was gone, and it was her fault. “Some Slayer you are.” He smirked.  At the reminder of her calling, Buffy shoved him back hard.  She might go down, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.  Angel recovered and launched at her, his punches landing solidly on her face and torso.  She refused to cry out as pain seared through her.  She managed to block his next punch, and reared back to let fly a few of her own.  He dodged them easily, seeing it was emotion fueling her and not her sacred duty.

Buffy felt herself begin to tire, but she pushed herself on.  Unfortunately, she got so caught up in her battle with the man she loved, she forgot about the vampiress.  A sharp pain exploded through her back as the female landed a blow between her shoulder blades.  It stunned her for a moment, sending her to her knees.  That moment was all Angel need.  He tackled her the rest of the way to the ground, his elbows digging into the soft flesh of her arms, and his legs tangling with hers.  He had her effectively pinned.  She stared up at him with wide, and sorrow filled hazel eyes.  If this was how she had to go, at least it was going to be Angel.

He saw the minute she accepted her fate, knowing she was expecting to be killed.  Wouldn’t she be surprised, he thought as his demon surged forward.

“Goodbye, lover.” He growled, before plunging his fangs deep into her throat.  She screamed, despite herself.  She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction, but the pain was so intense, she couldn’t help it.  She felt the ebb and flow of her blood as it traveled from her neck to his greedy mouth.  Spots formed in front of her eyes and she felt her heart start to slow.  The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the delighted laughter of the vampiress.

Chapter One

Giles sat slumped in his chair, his face buried in his hands.  It had been three days since Buffy’s disappearance, and he was beside himself with worry.  Her mother was frantic, calling the hospitals and police stations daily.  He, Willow and Xander had taken over the patrols, noticing with unease the increase in vampiric activity.  But, the most disturbing thing that had occurred, was Kendra’s reappearance.  The implications were enormous.  She hadn’t spoken to any of them, just helped them slay, cast a sorrowful look at them, and then disappeared.  Willow had crumbled against Xander and wept, truly believing that Buffy was gone.

Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, he replaced his glasses and rose to go into the kitchen.  He filled a kettle with water, finding slim comfort in the mechanics of making tea.  He was holding his grief at bay, not willing to believe the obvious.

Angel had been laying low, not seeming to care about his girlfriends’ whereabouts.  This just struck another point in the negative column for the vampire as far as Giles was concerned.   If he saw the pillock anytime soon . . .   With a concentrated effort, the Watcher turned his thoughts away from dusting his Slayer’s beau.  He placed the kettle a little to forcefully onto the burner, the crack echoing in his silent apartment.

Sighing, he turned the burner on, and leaned on the counter to wait.  He stared dazedly at the blue flame as it danced under the pot.  He knew there was something else he should have been doing to prepare his precious tea, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around it.  A knock on his door had him shaking himself out of his stupor.

“Who is it?” he asked tiredly.  The voice he heard had him throwing back the bolt and whipping the door open.  “Buffy!  Where have . . . ”  He stopped talking as soon as he saw her.  Her clothes were torn and bloody, scrapes showing through the gaps.  Her wrists were encircled by scabbed over abrasions, as if she had been hand cuffed and had railed against the restraints.  Her left eye was blossoming into a spectacular bruise, as was her left cheek.  But the thing that unsettled him the most was the fact that the sad, pain filled eyes that were staring up at him were no longer hazel.  They were now a rich gold.  Ridges were raised above those eyes, and fangs protruded from between her swollen, bloody lips.

“Dear, lord.” He breathed, backing up a step.

“Giles.  Help me.” She breathed, before collapsing in a heap outside the invisible barrier barring her from his home.

Without a second thought he pulled her through the door, whispering the invitation that was needed.  He knew he was putting himself at serious risk, but if he could restrain her long enough, he might be able to have Willow perform the curse to restore her soul.

He pulled her over to the couch and placed her on it, making sure he had a stake before going to find some rope.  Once he returned to the still unconscious girl, he placed the first aid kit on the coffee table.  He then began to tie her ankles together.

“You don’t need to do that.” She whispered through swollen lips.  Tears leaked form behind her closed eyelids.

“You’ll understand if I’m a little unsure of that.” Giles quipped, wrapping a towel around her wrists before tying them with the rope.  She cracked her uninjured eye at him.

“Giles.  Look at me.” She waited until he complied, seeing the grief, anger and fear swirling in his eyes.  “You.  Don’t.  Need.  To.  Do.  That.” She enunciated every word, praying he would get her meaning.  When he just checked his knot to make sure it would hold, her tears came in earnest.   “Giles.” Her voice cracked on his name, and he looked at her again.  “I didn’t lose my soul.” Her voice was a quiet rasp, forcing him to strain to hear her.  Disbelief was evident in his face as he REALLY looked at her.

“That’s impossible.” He denied, already knowing that everything he had been told was wrong.  He could see it in her eyes.  She was still Buffy.  A bitter laugh filled the air at his comment.

“Yeah, well.  Leave it to me to be different.” Her flippant remark made him flinch as if she had struck him.  Her shoulders began to shake as great, heaving sobs racked her tiny frame.  Giles immediately gathered his Slayer up in his arms and held her as she cried.

~*~*~

Buffy sat on the edge of the couch, wearing an old pair of Giles’ pajamas.  She was acutely aware of the distrustful looks that Xander was throwing her from across the room.  He and Cordelia were the first to show up, and he had given her a wide berth, pulling Cordelia with him.  They were still waiting for Willow and Oz.  The silence around them was thick with tension, but none of them tried to ease it.  Therefore, when the knock on the door came, they all jumped as if it were a gunshot.

Giles rose to answer the door, stepping back to allow the red headed witch and her werewolf boyfriend inside.  After leveling nervous eyes at her best friend, Buffy was filled with relief when she saw none of the distrust or loathing that she had seen in Xander.  Willow took one look at Buffy and knew that her friend was still there.  Going to her immediately, she wrapped the Slayer in her arms and hugged her fiercely.

“I’m so sorry, Buffy.  If I had known . . . ” she began, pulling back to look at her.  Buffy just shook her head, stopping her.

“There’s nothing you could have done, Wills.  None of us could have known that sex would cause him to lose his soul.”

“Wow.  That must have been some really good sex.” Cordelia said, glaring at Xander when he hissed at her.  Buffy just rolled her eyes at the tactless comment.

“No, Buffy.  I was researching the copy of the curse Giles had managed to get.  It wasn’t the sex.”  At her friends confused look, Willow jumped into full teacher mode.  “Well, a-according to the translations, Angels’ soul could only be stripped by having one moment of perfect happiness.”

“I reiterate, must have been some really good sex.”

“Cordy!” Xander snapped.  “Now isn’t the time for you usual tasteless comments.”

“Oh?  But it’s okay for you to sit there and look at Buffy like she’s some sort of leper?” Cordelia arched one perfect brow at her sort of boyfriend, the look she had on her face making him feel like he was the biggest ass on the planet.

“She should have known better than to sleep with him.” He shot back.  “He IS a vampire, soul or not.  And she’s the Vampire SLAYER.  They should all be staked.”  A collective gasp rippled through the room, causing Xander to duck his head from the glares being sent his way.

“So, you think I should be staked?” Buffy asked, her words icy.  His eyes met hers for the briefest instant, before he mumbled “no,” and looked away.

“E-e-everyone.  If you please.  Bickering about HOW Angel lost his soul is irrelevant.  The fact remains that h-he has.  Since Buffy has retained her soul is a miracle in of itself.  I need to do research,” he ignored the groans that surrounded him, “As well as help Buffy to deal with her predicament.”

“Predicament?” Buffy muttered under breath. *He says it like I just found out I’m pregnant. *  Willow offered the Slayer a sympathetic smile, squeezing her hand in comfort.

“We also need to find a univite spell to rescind Angel’s access to our homes.  I suggest that none of us travel alone at night, and if you see him, DO NOT try to engage him.  He was one of the most powerful and vicious vampires ever.” Giles reminded them, pausing to make sure his words sunk in.

“Oh, God.  My mom.” Buffy said, horror crossing her face.  Her mother was unaware and unprotected.  She rose off the couch, only to be stilled by her Watcher’s voice.

“Buffy, I will go collect you mother, and we can explain this to her together.  Willow, I believe the spell we need is in one of the books that I have upstairs.” Willow jumped off the couch to follow him.  They paused when someone pounded on the door.  They all exchanged glances before Giles went to answer it, his stake at the ready.  Buffy moved to stand behind the door, ready to pounce if it was Angel.

“Kendra?”  Giles said, as the tiny, black girl strode through the door.

“I know dat she’s here.  Where is she?”  Buffy stepped into view, prepared to defend herself against her sister Slayer.

“Kendra, wait.” Giles said, standing between the Slayers.  “She isn’t a danger.”

“She’s one of dem now.” Was all the girl said, believing that was enough.

“She kept her soul.” Willow told her, moving to stand beside Giles.  Kendra looked between the two, then over their shoulders to Buffy.  The blonde Slayer simply nodded her head, knowing there was nothing they could do if Kendra didn’t believe them.  She would attack, and Buffy would be forced to fight.

“Dat is unfortunate.” She said, looking straight into the Watcher’s eyes.  “He’s coming.”  Then she turned on her heel and left a stunned Giles to stare at her retreating back.

*Slayer’s aren’t supposed to know about him. * his mind told him.  But Kendra knew.  How?  Shaking his head, he turned to look at the confused faces of his charges.  He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten, and now he had to warn Buffy.

“Willow, will you please call Buffy’s mother and tell her that Xander and Cordelia are on their to pick her up.”  The red head looked at him quizzically before moving to do as he had asked.  Cordelia and Xander stood to leave, not wanting to miss out on the explanation.

“Go.  I will clear things up when you get back.  I only want to say this once.”  The tale was long and involved, and it wasn’t something he wanted to repeat.  Once they left, he turned to Buffy.  “Please sit down.  When your mother gets here we’ll talk.”

“What did she mean?” Buffy asked.  She knew, by the look on his face that Kendra wasn’t talking about Angelus.

“When your mother gets here.”  He insisted, turning toward Oz.  “Would you help me locate the books I need?”  Oz nodded and rose to follow him, leaving Buffy alone in the living room.

“Well, isn’t this fun?” she quipped, lopping back down onto the couch to wait.  Dread filled her as she thought of her mother and how the older Summers’ woman would react to having a vampire Slayer daughter-turned vampire.  Hysterical laughter bubble din her throat as she thought about the joke that her life was.

~*~*~

Exceeding the speed limit by a good sixty miles, the black DeSoto barreled down the highway.  Billy Idol played at ear drum splitting decibels, but the driver didn’t seem to care.  A cigarette smoldered in his mouth as his black lacquered fingers pounded on the steering wheel in time to the beat.  Eyes as blues as ice surveyed the road, pushing the car even faster as he spotted a dark object in the distance.  With a war whoop that rivaled any rebel yell, he plowed over the “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign, his smile of satisfaction causing the sharp planes of his face to soften for a brief instant.

He slowed considerably as he drove the quiet streets of the small burg settled over the top of a Hellmouth.  He platinum head shook ruefully as he thought of the citizens sleeping soundly in their beds, completely unaware of the uglies that stalked their town.  And also unaware of the tiny, girl that was chosen to protect them from said uglies.  He knew, and that was why he was here.

He drove with straight to his destination, the old mansion just on the outside of town.  The lights were blazing from the windows, letting him know that the occupants were indeed home.  Turning off the car, he got out and walked to the door.  He moved with the power and grace of the predator he was.  His black, ankle length duster flowed behind him, giving the illusion of the cape that people expected on creatures like him.

Walking inside, he saw the minions scrambling around as if the devil himself was on their heals.  Then he heard the shouting and knew that, indeed, he was.

Pausing at the entrance to the great room, he lit a cigarette off the butt of the other one and callously crushed its remains into the marble floor.  He then made sure his trademark smirk was in place before walking in.  The scene that greeted him was comic at best.  Minions were lined up in front of the Master, heads bowed in fear.  The Mistress sat in a chair at the head of the room, looking regal in a snug fitting, royal blue gown.  Her dark curls tumbled around her shoulders, reminding him of a time not to long ago.  He felt his heart constrict a bit as he gazed at her, taking advantage of not being noticed yet.  He had loved her at one time, when he had let the darkness consume him.  Shaking off the ghost of the past, he moved his attention to the Master who was still deep in his tirade.

“How did she escape?!” the Master roared, staring down at one of his cowering flock.  The light-haired vampire just stared at his sire dumbly, not having an answer.  Too bad for him.  The Master growled and plunged the stake he had been holding deep into the minions chest.  He then eyed the rest of the line, letting them know without words that the same fate could befall them.  “You idiots had ONE job.  Guard the Slayer.  And you couldn’t even do that right.  Tell me why I shouldn’t stake the whole lot of you?!” he demanded of the next sorry individual his brown eyes landed on.

*He lost the Slayer* their unseen audience thought. *This makes things a bit more interesting. *  He blew smoke out of his lungs, preparing to make his presence known.  But at that moment, the mistress’ head whipped toward his direction, her soft lilting voice carrying to him.

“Angel.” She called.  He whirled on her, anger etched deep in his face.

“WHAT, Druscilla.  I’m kinda busy here.” He growled, his demon surging forward.  She wasn’t looking at him, though, her eyes still trained on the shadows where he was.

“Our boy has come home.” She said with delight.  Angel looked at her quizzically for a moment, then turned on the direction of her stare.  He chose that moment to step into the light, his cigarette dangling from his lips once more.  Angel’s face twisted into a sneer as he gazed upon his wayward childe.  A hundred years had passed since he last seen him.

“William, my boy.  What brings you to our humble home?” the dark-haired vampire’s tone was not in the least bit welcoming.  A slow, wolfish smile crossed the younger mans’ face.

“It’s Spike.  And it’s good to see you too, Peaches.” Sarcasm dripped from the deep, British voice as he regarded the Master.

“Come back to try to reclaim what’s yours?” Angel asked casually, walking toward the blonde.  Spike’s drifted to Dru then back to his pseudo sire.

“Nope.  Heard the Slayer was in town.  Figured I give her a go.” Rage was the only way to describe the look on the brunettes’ face.  Spike found himself jacked up against the wall behind him, the burning end of the cigarette turned toward his face.  He briefly wondered when Angel started to move so fast, but quickly dismissed it as the glowing end inched closer to his face.

“She is MINE!” Angel growled, his words low and menacing.  Too bad Spike wasn’t easily intimidated.

“Really?  Where is she then?” he asked casually.  He didn’t scream when the cigarette was crushed out on his cheek.  He raised his scarred left eyebrow as the smell of burning flesh singed his nostrils.  “Touchy.”  He quipped, barely suppressing the mocking smile.  Angel looked at him in disgust before dropping him unceremoniously to his feet.

“Stay away from her Spike.  I mean it.”

“Whatever you say, Peaches.  Whatever you say.”


Chapter Two

Buffy stalked through the quiet streets, her head hung low.  She’d had to get away from Giles’, just for a moment.  Had to escape the pained and disbelieving expression of her mother’s face.  The face that told her the she had disappointed her mom once again.  So, when Giles had gone upstairs to find a book, and her friends had been distracted with each other, she snuck out the kitchen door.

She knew she couldn’t stay gone long, just needed to get a breath of air. *And something to eat* she thought as she felt the demon inside of her start to insist.  She paused under a street lamp to get her bearings, them turned in the direction of the nearest butcher’s shop.   The thought of drinking blood didn’t sit well with her at all, but, she guessed it was part of who she was now.  She really wished she was brave enough to stake herself, or to walk into the rising sun.  But, she wasn’t in a hurry to cash in her ticket to Hell.  At least that’s where she thought she would go.  She was a vampire with a demon and her own soul.  Where did that register on the ‘go straight to hell’ chart?

The funny thing was, that except for the obvious demonic presence, and the whole no breathing or heart beat thing.  She couldn’t really say she felt different.  She still had all her feelings.  She didn’t have any overwhelming urge to destroy everything in a fifty mile radius.  And the thought of feeding off a human was just. . . ew.  Angel had once told her that it was a constant struggle to keep the demon under control.  Only the conscience and guilt that the soul had provided kept him truly in check.  That and his desire for atonement for his sins.

She didn’t seem to have that problem, however.  From what she could tell, the only thing the demon was doing to her was reminding her it was time to eat.  She truly hoped that’s all it continued to do.  She didn’t want to think that she had the potential to become like Angelus.  Or Druscilla.

Tear welled in her eyes as she thought of the two vampires.  The things they had done to her when she had awoken to the nightmare that was now her life.  She knew they were trying to dominate her, make her acquiescent.  She guessed the combination of  her soul and her being the Slayer prevented it.  She had played along, though, until they grew tired and withdrew to their room.  Then she had killed the two guards at her door.  She slipped out of the house and immediately into the sewer conduit.  Luckily she’d had the presence of mind to grab the blanket off the bed first.  She didn’t want to have gone through all the trouble to stay alive only to become a crispy critter during her escape.

With a sigh, Buffy walked into the butcher shop.  A few minutes later she walked out, still immersed in her thoughts.  She didn’t notice the figure that had started following her a few blocks back.  As she moved into the less populated part of town, the figure sped up, covering the distance between them in seconds.

“Slayer.”  Buffy whirled, barely keeping a grip on the bag in her hand.  Her empty hand went to grab for a stake, only coming up empty. *Shit* she thought.  In her haste to leave the oppressive atmosphere of Giles’ apartment, she had forgotten to grab the one thing she was never without.

*Well, just have to improvise* keeping one eye on the man in front of her, she placed the bag on the ground.  After the ridiculous price the butcher had charged her, she was loath to have anything happen to it.

“Who are you?” she asked, straining to see him in the shadows.  It didn’t even occur to her to use her newly acquired night vision.  She gasped when he stepped fully into the light of the street lamp.  *What a HOTTIE* she thought, immediately shaking it off. *Not good to lust after the enemy.  Haven’t you learned your lesson?* Buffy scolded herself, even as her eyes roamed down the lean, hard body in front of her.   Dressed entirely in black, his jeans and t-shirt formed to the muscles of his arms, legs and abs, leaving nothing to the imagination.  A long, leather duster and black Doc Martins completed the bad boy look.  His white hair and pale skin stood out in sharp contrast to his attire.  This man, vampire, commanded attention.  She could almost see the energy crackling around him, as if it was a physical thing. Danger and power rolled off of him in waves.  For the first time, in a long time, Buffy felt fear.

“WHO.  ARE.  YOU?”  She asked again, enunciating each word.  A feral smile curled his full mouth, drawing her gaze to the action. *I bet he kisses good* she immediately berated herself for the traitorous thought.  He was here to kill her, not get into her pants.  She felt a strange twinge of disappointment. *God, is this what being turned does?  Makes you into a hornball.* she scoffed at herself.

“Spike.” he answered simply, waiting for a glimmer of recognition.  Not seeing any, he cursed inwardly. *Don’t Watcher’s teach their Slayers anything, anymore?*

“Did Angel send you?” she asked, scanning the street around them.  Spike rolled his eyes, allowing his demonic visage to surge forward.   *Wow, even vamped he’s a hottie.* Buffy shook her head, trying to figure out where these thoughts were coming from.  You’d think after the introduction to vampire life she’d had, sex would be the furthest thing from her mind.

“Angelus is the least of your worries.”  Then, he launched.  She almost didn’t get her arm up in time to block the punch to her face. *Shitshitshitshit* the words played over in her mind as Spike drove her backwards.  A kick to the stomach had her doubling over, but she recovered quickly, and slammed her tiny fist into the underside of his jaw.  He staggered back a step, a wide smile plastered across his face.

“They were right.” he said, sweeping her feet out from under her.  She rolled out of the way as his fist swung towards her face.  The concrete where her head had been only seconds before, cracked under the force of his blow.   He cursed as he felt two of his knuckles break.

“Who was right about what?” she asked, grunting when he backhanded her.  Fireworks went off in front of her eyes from the impact. *Great, another bruise to add to my collection.* She slammed the heel of her hand into his nose, satisfied with the crunch she heard.  They danced around each other for a moment, looking for an opening.

“You are the best.” He replied, wiping a hand under his nose.

“I’m flattered.” Buffy said, sending a flying kick to his head.  He caught her ankle before it connected, twisting it to spin her in the air.  She landed on the ground with a whoosh, unable to move for a moment.  Spike gripped her shoulder and rolled her to her back.  She saw the stake as he raised his left hand, preparing for the kill.  By sheer force of will, she caught his wrist.  She pulled, turning his hand as he fell forward.  His eyes widened a fraction before he felt the wood pierce his skin.  She rolled away before he could pin her under his weight.  She sprang to her feet, grabbed her bag and took off into the night, never looking back.

Spike considered chasing her as he pulled the stake out of his stomach.  The pain searing through his abdomen convinced him not to.  There was time.  This encounter was just so he could gage her skills.  And she was skilled. *Pretty little thing, too.* He thought, hauling himself to his feet.  Too bad he had to kill her.  He wouldn’t mind going a round of a different sort with her.  Pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, he lit one and started to walk down the street.

He’d have to find a place to hole up for the night.  Couldn’t go back to the mansion in this shape.  It just reeked of ‘fight with the Slayer.’  Not to mention her scent that still lingered on his skin.  He was in no mood to deal with Angel while he was still being all territorial.

Smoking thoughtfully, he began to mentally check off everything he had just learned about her.  She was quick, strong, and resourceful.  But so were the other two Slayer’s he’d killed.  However, she had a power shining in her eyes that they didn’t.  She also never vamped out once.  If it wasn’t for her lack of heartbeat, he would have thought she was an average Slayer.  Although, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be in Sunnydale.

Whistling softly to himself, he walked slowly through the town, silently saluting the girl.  It would be an honor to kill this one.

~*~*~

Buffy burst into Giles’ apartment, slamming the door closed behind her.  Her mother was off the couch in an instant, crossing to her daughter and pulling her into a fierce hug.

“You scared us to death, Buffy.” she admonished, pulling back to look at her.  Giles came up beside them, worry and anger warring for dominance on his face.

“That was very reckless of you, Buffy.  What if Angel had been looking for you, or. . .”

“I think the ‘or’ is what we need to worry about right now.” The Slayer cut him off, moving past them into the living room.  The other four were still there, with the addition of Kendra.  They were all staring at her with mixed expressions of worry and apprehension.

“What do you mean?” The Watcher’s voice was tight as he studied the young girl in front of him.  Buffy didn’t answer until she had crossed to Kendra, staring into the other Slayer’s eyes.  Crossing her arms over her chest, she started to speak.

“I think I just met the ‘him’ Kendra warned us about.”  She heard Giles’ sharp intake of air, and turned to him.  “Who is he?”

“Good lord.  Are you alright?” he asked, noticing the fresh bruise along the underside of her chin.

“I’m fine.  I’m not dusty, so, I’m fine.  Not to say that he didn’t try.  But you didn’t answer my question.  Who IS he?”  Giles took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.  Buffy waited impatiently, her gaze shifting between him and Kendra.  The rest of the group sat in tense silence, as anxious for the explanation as the Slayer.

Giles put his glasses back on and moved to the coffee table, picking up a thick book.  He thumbed through the pages, finding what he needed quickly and walked back to Buffy.

“Read this.” he instructed her, holding it out to her.  She just glared at the old text, her arms still crossed.

“I don’t really think this is research time, Giles.  You know who he is, tell me.”

“He goes by the name Spike.  However, he is also know as William the Bloody.”  He started, still holding out the book.

“That tells me his name, not WHO he is.  Besides, he already introduced himself.”  He sighed heavily, wondering what he had done to deserve such an obstinate Slayer.

“He goes by another name as well.  The Slayer of Slayers.”  The color that was left in Buffy’s cheeks drained, as her eyes widened.  He wasn’t just some vamp out to do a Slayer.  He had done them before.  “Now, would you please read the bloody book.  There is more, but you must know his history first.”

With numb fingers, Buffy finally took it from him, moving to the couch to sit next to her mother.  With one last glance around the room, she then bent her head and started to read.

~*~*~

When Buffy closed the book, she felt decidedly ill.  It seemed that William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike, took his name to heart.  One hundred and thirty years of blood, death and destruction, surpassed only by Angelus, who liked to add torture into the mix. *And guess who sired the sicko* she asked herself. *None other than your sire.  Didn’t that make him my brother, or something?* A shudder racked through her at that.  It was a stupid thought, but a disturbing one, no less.

He had also killed two Slayers.  Angel hadn’t even killed one. *Until me.  But, I guess he didn’t technically kill me, so does that count?* Buffy shook off the inane thoughts that kept bombarding her and looked up at her Watcher.

“Okay, he’s a sick, sadistic bastard with a thing for Slayers.  He’s also one of Angels’.  That bout cover it?”  She asked, handing him the book back.

“Part of it.” he answered, cleaning his glasses for the hundredth time since she started reading.

“What do you mean?” Joyce asked, concern for her daughter overwhelming her initial shock at the situation.

“And why is he after Buffy if he knows she’s a vamp?  Shouldn’t he be throwing her a Welcome to the Club, party or something?”  Willow asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Maybe he didn’t know where to send the invitation.” Oz said, his stoic expression never changing.  Buffy sent him an appreciative smile. *At least someone can find the funnies in this mess.*

Willow giggled at her boyfriends joke, and even Xander’s lips quirked into a smile.  Cordelia just rolled her eyes at the lameness that was them, and went back to reading her magazine.

Giles sat forward in his chair and pinned Buffy with his eyes.

“What you read is not entirely the truth.” he started.

“Then WHY did I read it?  We don’t really have a lot of time to waste.” she told him pointedly.

“You needed to know this, before I could tell you the rest.  I never told you about him, because I honestly never believed he would be needed here.”

“What do you mean, ‘needed’?”

“Why doncha just get on wit it already.” Kendra spoke up for the first time. Giles looked over his shoulder at the girl, who was idly fingering the stake in her hand.

“Very well.  This is the official version of William the Bloody’s history.  The unofficial version is much more complicated.”  Sighing again, he looked down at the hand drawn picture of the vampire in question.  “What I am about to tell you, no Slayer has ever heard before.  What is in this book is what they are told.”

“Why?”  Buffy was starting to feel nervous.  Giles was reluctant to tell this tale, and she almost told him not to.  But she knew that hiding from it wouldn’t make Spike go away.  Maybe something in his story would tell her how to defeat him.  She could tell that luck was the only thing that had kept her from being brought home in a ashtray tonight.

“To keep them ignorant as to his true place in the world.  You see, Spike is not your average master vampire.”

“I got that impression.  What exactly is he?”  He couldn’t put it off any longer.  With another deep sigh, Giles looked her straight in the eye and answered.

“He is a vampire/human hybrid, created by the Watchers’ Council to hunt down and kill turned Slayers.”

Chapter Three

Spike let himself into the motel room just as the sun crested the horizon.  He threw his keys and a bag onto the table by the door, then shrugged out of his duster.  He winced as the hole in his stomach throbbed, an actual chuckle escaping his lips.  He had to give her credit, she was the first to turn his own weapon back on him.   Stripping out of his t-shirt, he inspected the wound, glad to see it was already starting to close.  The bleeding had stopped long ago, thanks to his good old enhanced vampire healing.

Opening the brown paper bag, Spike pulled out the first aid kit he’d bought, ignoring the other contents for the moment.  He quickly opened it and pulled out gauze, antibiotic ointment, and tape.  He then smeared some of the ointment on the gauze and slapped it on the hole, hissing a bit at his own forcefulness.  He then taped the edges and moved back to the bag.

Now that was done, he could focus on his dinner.  Reaching inside, he pulled a out Styrofoam take out tray, and put it aside.  He then pulled out a large mason jar filled with blood, followed by a six pack of beer.  Taking one, he twisted the cap and took a long drink, savoring the taste of barely and hops as they exploded on his tongue.  Grabbing the tray and his blood, he balanced all three objects as he walked to the bed.  Placing the beer by the phone, he popped the top of the tray, breathing deep the smell of the chicken wings.  He then unscrewed the jar.  Plucking up one of the wings, he dipped it into the blood and began to chow down.

It was probably a good thing that he hadn’t gone back to the mansion.  Angel and Dru had never understood why he consumed human food.  And it wasn’t like he could tell them that he needed both that and the blood to survive, so, he had just taken to eating alone.

Spike dunked his second wing as he reached for the phone, dialing quickly.  He balanced the receiver on his shoulder, taking a swig of the beer while he waited for the phone to be answered.

“Hello?”

“I found her.”  Spike told the man on the line, ripping into the wing.

“Has she been taken care of?” he asked in a clipped, British voice.

“Not yet.  Little Bint actually got a turn on me.”  He said with a smile.

“It is imperative that this is dealt with quickly.”  Spike rolled his eyes.

“I know that.  I’ll get it done.  I always do.” he reminded the man.

“What about the other matter?”

“Angelus?”

“Yes.  Did he indeed lose his soul?”

“Yeah.  He’s the one that turned the Slayer.  Right pissed off that she got away from him.” Spike told him with a chuckle.  Nothing made him happier than someone getting one over on Angel.  “Dru’s here, too.” he said quietly, almost as an afterthought.

“That is unfortunate.” The man replied, “I trust we won’t have another. . .incident like the one we had before?”  Spike threw the chicken bone onto the growing pile and pushed the tray away, suddenly losing his appetite.

“No, we won’t.  I’ve been over that for a while now.” Pillock, he added silently.  He would have loved to reminded the man that it was the damn Council that put him this situation, but it wouldn’t have made any difference.

“Then call me with a full report once they are taken care of.”  Before Spike could answer, he heard the click as the man disconnected.

“Right then.” he muttered, hanging up the phone.  He then snatched the beer and drained it in three long swallows.  He wished now that he had bought something stronger.  He hated to be reminded of the time he had lost his way.  And those wankers at the council took every opportunity to remind him.  It was almost 120 years ago when he had sunk into the pleasures that only vampires could provide.  He had spent fifty years immersed in the darkness, with Druscilla by his side.  But that was over now.  Why couldn’t they just let it go?

*Because you had killed innocents, you git.* Spike told himself.  Nothing he could do would ever make up for those lives.  So, now, he traveled across the globe, doing the Council’s bidding, taking out the occasional turned Slayer.

Pushing the thoughts away, he leaned back against the pillows, and closed his eyes.  Wanting to dispel the unease that had settled over him, his mind happily conjured up the image of his new challenge.  The Slayer danced behind his eyelids, her beauty and strength teasing him.  He felt his nether regions spring to life as he replayed the fight in his head.  He could still smell the scent of her long, golden hair.  Still see the bright, hazel eyes.  Her body was small, and well muscled, the tiny skirt and tank top she had been wearing hugging every curve.

*Bloody shame I have to kill her.* he thought again, truly regretting his duty for the first time.  She was a ripe peach, waiting to be plucked.  And what he wouldn’t give to be able to do the plucking. *Oh, well.  Just because you have to kill her, doesn’t mean you can’t THINK about shagging her.* Spike told himself, pushing off the bed to head to the bathroom.  He hadn’t had a woman in what seemed like forever, and now he needed to have a conversation with his left hand.  Whistling quietly, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

~*~*~

Seven sets of eyes were riveted to Giles after he dropped that bomb.  Buffy was the first to recover her voice.

“What?  How. . .I don’t understand.  How is that possible?”  She asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“It’s quite extraordinary, I assure you.”  He paused to clean his glasses, trying to form the correct words in his head.  “Let me start by telling you about the man.  William Andrew Carlisle the third was a second generation Watcher.  Actually, at the time this all transpired, he had just begun his training.  For centuries, the Council had been trying to devise a way to deal with the possible threat of a turned Slayer.  So far, no vampire had tried to, but there was always a first time.  Then, the Council’s scientist came up with a way to adapt a human.”

“Adapt?” Willow asked.  “You mean, like genetic mutation?”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“But at the time this happened, that was years before they even knew that there were different blood types.” The red head countered.

“Yeah, and she would know.  She doesn’t get the grades for nothin" Xander piped in.  Willow beamed a little under his praise.

“I understand that, Willow.  However, the Councils scientists were looking for a solution from both conventional and magical means.  They found a way.”

“And what was that?”  Buffy asked, noticing Willow leaning forward to be able to hear better.  This was totally exciting the scientist and Wiccan part of her.

“Er, I’m afraid I don’t know very much about the procedure.  The actual research and lab notes were closed to anyone that didn’t need to see them.  I do know that the subject was injected with the blood of a Master vampire, then a magic user casts a spell to fuse the cells together.”

“Why this William Carlisle guy.  Did he draw the short straw or something” Cordelia asked, finally getting interested in the conversation.

“No.  When the Council was ready to test what the scientists had found, they look at each of the Watcher’s in training carefully.  William had the highest test scores, the best fighting skills.  He was good at assessing a situation quickly and executing the proper response.  They asked him to volunteer.”

“Do you mean ask as in ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to’ or ask, as in ‘you’re doing it anyway?’” Buffy queried.  A slight smile twitched the corners of the Watcher’s mouth.

“I would suppose the latter, probably.  Either way, he did.”

“Why go through all that trouble.  Why not just have the new Slayer go after her?”  This was from Xander.  Giles considered his answer carefully, before speaking again.

“Could you imagine a vampire with the combined strengths of a Slayer and a vampire?”  Xander blanched a bit at the thought.

“But, if he only had the strength of a vampire, what good would he be?”  Joyce asked, trying to wade through her confusion.  All of this was too much, and it just seemed to be getting deeper.

“Well, you see.  He has all the strengths of a vampire, and none of their weaknesses.   He also has all the strengths of a human.  And from what I understand, the magic forces used, enhanced his abilities.”

“But why would they want him mixed with a vampire?  Isn’t that what we’re fighting against?”  Buffy was beyond confused.

“Er, Buffy, haven’t you ever wondered why a Slayer has all the same abilities as a vampire?”

“Maybe.” she answered slowly, not sure she liked where this was going.

“The Powers that Be were the first to endow a human, a girl, with these powers, but still keep her in the light.”

“So, you’re saying I’m part vampire?” she asked, incredulously.

“In a manner of speaking yes.”  Buffy wasn’t sure what to think of that.  She didn’t even know if she wanted to.

“He’s basically a male Slayer?”  Giles nodded affirmation.

“The difference being he is immortal and, since he IS part demon, he has the capacity to give into the cravings of his darker nature.”

“Does he have blood lust?” Now she could get into Slayer mode, if he killed innocents, he was toast.

“I honestly do not know.  There is a quite a bit about him that is not known.”

“Are any of the things this book says true?”  Buffy looked at him, needing to know.

“I’m not sure.”  A dissatisfied hiss escaped her.

“Wait, since Buffy kept her soul, doesn’t that mean that the others would have, too?”  Cordelia asked.

“It’s possible.” was all Giles could say.

“Do you think, we could talk to him, or something?  Let him know that she isn’t all evil, and stuff.”  Willow asked, looking between Giles and Buffy.

“It’s worth a try, I guess.  Do you think he’ll listen?”  Buffy glanced around the room.

“I suppose we should at least try.  In the mean time, I don’t think it would be wise for you to go out alone.  Between Spike and Angel, your life is in very grave danger.”

“And Druscilla.” The Slayer mumbled, anger and humiliation rolling through her.

“If Slayer’s aren’t supposed to know about him, how come Kendra did?” Oz asked, as all eyes turned to the other Slayer.  Kendra looked a bit sheepish.

“I overheard my Watcher on da phone.”  She muttered, not looking at anybody.  “He was talkin’ to someone from da council, and I heard him say somting about the Slayer of Slayers comin’ to Sunnydale.”

“Well, it would have been nice if they had called me.” Giles spat.  But he knew why they didn’t.  Watcher’s had a tendency to do anything to protect their Slayers.  Even turned ones.

“What do we do now?”  Buffy asked, looking at her pseudo father with sad eyes.

“I guess we should get on with the univite spells, and then get some well deserved rest.”  He answered, standing to retrieve the books he needed.  Everyone began to get ready to go, each giving Buffy sympathetic looks as they past.  Buffy curled against her mother, savoring the comfort of her arms as she allowed tears to slip quietly down her face.

~*~*~

Angel was pissed.  Nothing seemed to be going right for him, and it was not making him happy in the least.  First, Buffy escapes.  He was sure he could get her back, it was just inconvenient.  Second, Spike comes back, looking for the Slayer.  It seemed to Angel that the younger vampire was always looking to put another notch in his belt.  He’d already killed two, and now he was banking on the third. *Show off* he thought bitterly.

But Angel had dome something Spike had never.  HE had turned a Slayer.  He could have control over one the most powerful vampires, ever.  If he could find her.

Growling softly, he rolled over in his bed.  Druscilla slept peacefully next to him, a soft smile on her face.  He seized her arm roughly, feeling the need to relieve some tension.  She moved to him willingly, allowing him to punish her soft flesh.  With punishing thrusts he drove them both over the edge, burying his fangs in her throat.

Pushing her away once he was done, he flopped on his back.

“Don’t worry my Angel.  All will be as it should be.”  Dru whispered, nuzzling up to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, glaring at her.

“You’ll see.  Now that Spike is back, we can be a family again.”  Angel snorted.  As if THAT would ever happen.  He was just about to tell her so, but she had already fallen asleep.

Angel rolled over and tried to get comfortable.  Tonight, he decided, he would pay a visit to her Watcher.  Maybe her mother.  Or that sweet little Willow.

With these happy thoughts in his head, he drifted into a contented slumber.

~*~*~

Spike awoke the next evening with a smile on his face.  He had been having very pleasant dreams about the Slayer.  Dreams involving her, him and some very interesting toys.  Sitting up, he lit a cigarette and relived some of the finer moments.

He knew that some of the stodgier members of the Council would be appalled by his lusting after her.  It didn’t disturb him in the least, however.  He was man enough to appreciate her looks, and vampire enough to respond to her blood singing to him.  After all, it was the same blood that was fused into his system.

“Back to work.”  He told himself, hopping out of bed.  He was going to go see her Watcher tonight, find out if he had any information on her whereabouts.  Watcher’s were notorious for protecting their Slayers.

Dressing quickly, and gathering up his stuff, he walked out of the hotel and into the setting sun.