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Remember Me?

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Summary: A new vampire comes to town in search of the Slayer. Unfortunately, the Slayer doesn't remember who she is. B/A

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > DramaEleriMcCleodFR1524,456051,6159 Apr 0729 Apr 07No


Title: Remember Me?

Author: Eleri McCleod


Status: complete, but only being posted as I finish reworking each part

Category: drama, romance, action

Pairings: B/A

Spoilers: none that I can think of

Season: 2, between "Ted" and "Bad Eggs"

Sequel/Series Info: none

Rating: FR15

Content Warnings: none

Summary: A new vampire comes to town in search of the Slayer. Unfortunately, the Slayer doesn't remember who she is.

Disclaimer: We all know who created the Buffy characters and the Slayer's world. And we all know that it wasn't me. But thanks to Joss Whedon for letting me play in his world.

Author's Note: I wrote this one a very long time ago when the Slayer Fanfic Archive was still around. Rereading it recently, I decided to fix all the mistakes and things I didn't like and post it here as a quick introduction. So if this story sounds familiar it probably is, but give it a reread anyway. I've changed it a bit. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.




The moon shone bright overhead, illuminating the pale shapes of the headstones. Crickets happily chirped away, ignoring the two figures moving silently through the cemetery.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Angel's quiet voice broke through the stillness.

Glancing up to the vampire at her side, Buffy Summers smiled. "Who needs dates?"


"You heard me. Who needs a boring old movie-type date when they could be walking in the moonlight, holding hands with a gorgeous guy, waiting for evil things to stake?" She looked around, automatically searching for said evil things. "Life just doesn't get better than this."

He stopped moving, a throaty chuckle escaping. "Only you." Buffy halted as well when their connected hands wouldn't let her go any further. "Only you could see our strange lives in such a positive way." He tugged her closer, other hand coming up to gently cup her cheek. "You're amazing."

She stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the warm emotion shining in them. "I'm not the amazing one," she whispered, leaning into his body. "I'm the Chosen One. I have to do all of this. You do it because you want to. That's more amazing than anything I can do."

He smiled down softly at her. "If that's what you want to think." Then he lowered his head the rest of the way to meet her warm lips. Something seemed to expand in his chest, filling him, making his throat go tight. He was constantly caught off guard by the depth of his feelings for this girl, this Slayer. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his body, idly wondering if he could ever get enough of her.

Buffy let the sensations pour over her, washing her in Angel's love, his tenderness. Her eyes fluttered open as he slowly ended the kiss.

"I told you," he whispered, stroking her face. "Amazing."

She smiled up at him. "You're just prejudiced." Then her Slayer senses kicked in. "Duck!"

Only Angel's lightning fast reflexes and Buffy's warning saved him from becoming dust as the vampire behind him fell forward and lost his grip on the tree branch he swung, unprepared for their quick reactions.

She grabbed the vamp's arm and yanked him over her hip into a headstone. "Angel?"

"I'm okay. You keep this one, I've got his buddy." Angel felt his face begin to shift, brow ridge becoming more predominant, teeth elongating to sharp points, as he moved to meet the other vampire.

"You know," the Slayer said quite calmly as she began pummeling the vamp in front of her. She started with a left hook. "I'm really getting tired . . ." straight leg kick ". . . of you guys interrupting . . ." knee in gut, uppercut to jaw ". . . my smoochie moments." Roundhouse punch. "We don't get that many of them . . ." flying kick with a chaser of crescent in-to-out ". . .and you seem to stop all of them." She paused, taking in her handiwork. The vamp was sprawled on the grass, staring up at her, face a mask of panic. "I know this doesn't help you any." She pulled a stake from her belt. "But I feel better."

She moved over the vamp, stake at the ready, completely unprepared for the vicious kick he delivered to her chest. She stumbled back, tripping over the broken tree limb the vampire had dropped when the fight began. "Hey!" she cried indignantly, unable to maintain her balance. "You're not supposed to do -"

Her words were cut off by a sharp crack, the crack of her skull smashing against the edge of a gravestone.

Angel turned at the sickeningly familiar sound. "Buffy!" Her name ripped from his throat at the sight of her crumpled, motionless form.

The vamp smiled as he got to his feet. "Just the way I like Slayers." He moved over her, dismissing the struggle continuing behind him.

Growling, Angel gripped his vamp by the throat and threw him against a tree ten feet away with enough fear and anger to snap a thick branch. The vamp let out half a yell before dusting the grass around him.

He whirled to face the other vamp, deadly soft voice carrying easily across the short distance. "Get away from her."

The vamp jerked around, frozen in place by the menacing words, eyes searching for his buddy. Not seeing him, he focused on the enraged vampire before him. "Angelus."

"You want to join your friend?"

The vamp didn't even answer, just turned and ran.

Grabbing up the Slayer's dropped stake, he threw it after the fleeing figure, neatly impaling him. A moment later all that remained was a dust cloud floating gracefully to the ground. "I thought so."

"Buffy?" Letting his face return to normal, he knelt at her side, one hand moving to feel for the pulse in her throat, the other resting gently on her chest over her heart. He was glad, in that moment, that he didn't have to breathe because the fist tightened around his chest wouldn't have let him, even if he had wanted to.

"Come on, Buffy."

His eyes closed involuntarily as he felt the strong beating against both hands. "Thank you." He didn't know to whom he was speaking, but anyone listening seemed good enough.

Ever so gently he pulled her onto his lap, cradled in his arms. "Come on," he repeated. "Open those beautiful eyes and smile at me." With his right hand he felt carefully over the back of her head for blood. He didn't smell any, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Finding nothing but a large lump, the fist around his chest loosened some more. "Okay. A little better," he reassured himself, stroking her cheek softly. Whether the tender action was meant to bring her around or to comfort himself, he wasn't sure.

A low moan escaped Buffy's lips and her brow tightened in pain.

"That's it, come on. Come back to me." He kissed her forehead and looked down to see her eyes open and focused on him. "Hey. How you feeling?"

She stared at him, eyes wide. "Okay, I think. My head feels like someone's pounding on it with a hammer, but other than that I'm just peachy."

"You hit a headstone on your way down." She looked pale to him. He cupped her face and tilted it to the moonlight. "Blink a few times. I need to watch your pupils." She did as ordered. Relieved as he was to see them contract a little with the light from the bright moon, it wasn’t enough. He wanted another test. "How many fingers?"

She sent him a frown laced with a touch of impatience. "Two. Are you done now, Doctor-boy? I feel fine." She pushed away from him and stood up.

A little hurt by her coldness, Angel didn't help as she made her way to her feet. She just got the crap beat out of her, he told himself, disgusted with his lack of understanding. Give the Slayer a little slack, man.

She took a deep breath and sat on the headstone that had done its best to crack her head open. "Now don't take this the wrong way, especially after your, uh, doctor bit, but who are you?"

He could only stare at her, eyes wide.

"I mean, I'm grateful and all, but I do like to know who's groping me."

She's serious, Angel realized with a lurching sensation. "You don't know me?"

She gave an inelegant snort. "Deaf a little? Duh, I just said that! Maybe you need your head checked," she wondered aloud, putting a heavy emphasis on the pronoun. Looking him up and down quickly, she gave him a bright smile. "Believe me, I would know if I'd met you before."

"Uh, Angel,” he answered her implied question. His legs simply collapsed underneath him and he grasped at a nearby gravestone for balance. “I'm Angel.”

"Angel, huh? Okay, cool." She finally focused on their surroundings. "Eew. Why am I in a cemetery?" She jumped off the headstone, on her face a look he'd seen numerous times on Cordelia's. With another not so delicate shudder, Buffy glanced down at her watch, her face blanching. "I've got to get home. My dad's gonna kill me!" She turned to go.

"Buffy, wait!" Angel was at her side in a heartbeat.

She blinked at him, wondering how he’d moved so fast. "Dude, lay off the intense-pills, okay? You got your thanks, now I have got to go."

He put a hand on her arm. "What year is it?"

"Duh," she snapped, shooting him a look that simply screamed ’Loser’. "1995. What year is it where you live?" Without waiting for his response, she yanked her arm away and started to leave again.

"It's 1997," he quietly told her back. "This isn't LA. You're in Sunnydale." She has no memory of the past two years, no memory of us, he told himself, brain coming to understand the full impact of the situation.

"Now I'm really out of here." She backed away this time, keeping her eyes fixed on his unmoving figure. "You are just a little too psycho for me." He is gorgeous, she added silently. Too bad he's a schizo.

"Buffy, look at the markers." He stood away from his headstone support and pointed down to its clearly listed date of 1996. Then to another. Then to one from 1997.

She gave him an appeasing look, still stepping away. "Okay. I'm looking, I'm looking, I'm loo. . ." then it sank in ". . .king." She turned to him, eyes wide, confusion clear on her face. "Wha-?"

"It'll be all right," he reassured her, hands carefully at his sides. "Let's go see Giles. He'll know what we should do." He slowly walked over to her, as if trying to calm a skittish horse. She might not know who she was, but she still had all the power of the Slayer.

"Giles, huh? I guess that name's supposed to do the meaning thing with me." Staring up at him, Buffy felt her heart trying to pound bruises into her chest. She frantically searched her mind and came up with nothing. The man in front of her was no more recognizable than he had been all of five minutes ago. And this Giles? Not even a flicker.

The guy, Angel, had stopped a few short feet away from her, one hand held out to her. Eyes jumping from the dates on the markers to his face and back again, she ran over her options quickly. She could run. Yeah, that was option one and always a good backup plan. But if he wasn’t the one spouting the Looney Tunes stuff she was up a creek with a paddle nowhere in sight. Option two? She trusted him and the physical evidence screaming in her face.

She'd always played up her blondeness to her advantage before, but this time it didn’t seem like the best way to go. "Okay. Let's, uh, let's go see Giles." She swallowed and stared at the hand Angel was extending towards her. Slowly, her hand moved to take it. A small shiver of reaction went through her at the contact. Wow, what was that? Her eyes flew up to meet Angel's and she knew he had felt it too.

He gave her a gentle smile as he squeezed her hand. "It'll be all right, Buffy. We'll make it all right."

She knew the words were supposed to be comforting. They did anything but. Buffy took one last look around the cemetery then allowed him to lead her away.


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