Title: Seventh Child
Disclaimer: We all know the words so sing along "no characters belong to me ya de ya de ya"
Summary: There's a new witch in Sunnydale and she's running scared. But who is she running from?
In Southern California there is a small town. As you drive in it seems like every other small town in Southern California. Only at night does the true nature of Sunnydale reveal itself. Only at night do the demons and the vampires walk the streets and crowd the graveyards. The people of this little town are blinkered. They do not see the evil in the town. They ignore the amazing crime rate, the shockingly high mortality rate and they do not walk the streets at night unless they are in a group - a very large group. Unless of course you happen to be the Slayer.
Buffy brought her elbow back smartly and knocked the vampire flying. She spun quickly and flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes wishing that she had clipped it up. Taking a chance she glanced over at the tall boy who had come out with her that night and was reassured to see him ducking out of the way of another vampire. For once Xander actually seemed to be holding his own. She flipped out the way as a vampire tried to take advantage of her distraction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Xander bring a stake out from his belt and with deadly accuracy plunge in straight through her heart. She exploded in a cloud of dust with an eerie shriek. Buffy rolled over and as a vamp landed on top of her she reversed the stake she was holding so the vamp landed on it. She flipped up and used the same stake to dispose of the other vampire.
Xander was already scanning the grove for other dangers and Buffy crouched down to see to the third member of their gang. Willow Rosenberg was sitting beside a tree looking a little dazed and there was blood running from a cut on her forehead.
“Are you OK Will?” Buffy mopped the blood up from the wound and helped her stand. Willow was wobbly on her feet and her eyesight was a little hazy.
“I’ll be fine” Willow nodded carefully in case her head fell off.
“I say let’s check in with Giles and then head home” Xander glanced at his watch. It was late but Xander’s mother probably wouldn’t notice if he didn’t get home which was a bonus since being a Slayerette tended to keep him out all night. It wasn't like he had school the next day - his dead end job barely required him being conscious.
Willow’s mother on the other hand was the total opposite and last year, while she had been at home, Sheila Rosenberg had got on Willow’s case about all kinds of things but mostly about Oz and her coming in late. In her mother’s eyes, the two were inextrictcably linked and what kind of a name was Oz anyway? Willow breathed a big sigh of relief when she got her place in the College dorms but unfortunatley for her, her mother was still capable of leaving messages on her answerphone which she did, practically daily.
Buffy’s mother? She knew about Buffy being the Slayer and after severe wiggage and Buffy heading out of town quick enough to start a forest fire, they seemed to have sorted out some of the problems. Buffy didn’t know what was worse, having her mother know which in a way made life easier because it meant she didn’t have lie about the amount of bruises and why if she had been spending so much time studying with Willow, why she didn’t have better grades or just an all out lie which pretty much covered everything, the late nights, the muddy clothes, the bruises, the bad grades and the occasional odd behaviour. Buffy had also breathed a big sigh of relief when she had moved out and she and Willow now shared a room in the College dorms.
The three of them slowly walked back to the apartment of Rupert Giles. The librarian stood up as they opened the door, a tall man with kind eyes and constantly bemused expression. Rupert Giles, trainer, mentor and fount of spooky stuff. Buffy had become fond of her Watcher although she would never had admitted it and she constantly confounded him with her odd language, her strange obsession with clothes that he would never understand and her refusal to act like a normal Slayer. Buffy eased Willow into a chair and went into Giles’ kitchen to find the first aid kit.
“Are you alright?” he enquired, looking at her cut “It’s quite deep.” He took the box off Buffy and pulled out the antiseptic cream and a wipe to clean up the blood. She sat quietly, not wincing as he cleaned the wound and then carefully smeared the cream along the cut.
“What on earth were you three doing to end up like this?” Giles asked. There was a tinge of anger in his voice and Buffy knew the lecture that was coming.
“I’ve told you time and time again to be more careful, you two don’t have the strength of Buffy.”
He looked with exasperation at Xander and Willow who looked back.
“Don’t try those eyes on me Willow, they won’t work” Giles met Willow’s gaze and she gave him very best innocent cute puppy dog smile in the full knowledge that they would work. He tried frowning again which let Willow know that she had won.
“We ran into some rather persistant vampires.”
“I got one” Xander exclaimed “I’m happy.”
“That gives you the grand score of what? Three?” Buffy grinned at Xander who pretended hurt and picked a stake out of his bag.
“You should have been there Giles, she threw a punch and I ducked and then she came at me and I went” Xander was so busy renacting his fight with the vampire that he fell over a chair and landed flat on his back.
“Lucky there weren’t any dangerous tables out there - you could have really met your match”
Xander poked his head up from where he had fallen over and gave Buffy a grin.
“Take yourselves off home now.” Giles glanced at Xander who was muddy and dishevelled but not apparently injured in any way and Buffy who shrugged and rose to follow Xander and Willow out the door.
“I’ll see you first thing tomorrow” Giles called after them. The three raised their hands as a good bye and disappeared out the door.
He sighed and flopped down in his chair again. The book he had been reading “Demons of the Otherworld” had lost his attention and he decided that he might as well head to bed. There was no more he could do here, just research for any potential disasters that might occur on the Hellmouth. He idly wondered whether the battle they fought daily would ever come to an end.