Buffy swung her sword in a graceful arc, only to quickly switch to the other side. The library echoed with the sound of her blade being blocked by the back of Xander’s Spirit Slayer. Xander backed off a moment and looked wearily at the smiling Slayer.
“Good, Xan. Don’t forget again; the back of the katana is hardened to block other swords, the cutting edge can get damaged much more easily. You block with the back if you can,” Buffy told her friend with a smirk. This training with Xander thing turned out better then expected. He had started off quite knowledgeable about sword fighting to begin with – gained apparently from his possession and the sword itself. He had even taught her a few things about using her spirit to enhance her fighting and the sword she was holding – to be one with it in more than just body. Of course, with her being very low on spiritual power and holding an ordinary, normal, old sword, it had far less impact than it had for Xander with his awesome, beautiful, shining, mystical sword. Dang she really wanted to give it a whirl again. Hmm . . .
“Yes, yes, you’ve told me several times over already,” Xander told her, a little tired having heard it again. He blocked Buffy’s next attack once again with the back of his Spirit Slayer, and went on the offensive himself, Buffy smoothly and easily blocking Xander's combination of thrusts, slices and cuts. “Don’t think it’s going to matter much, as I’m using mystical manifestation of my soul,” Xander told, her, blocking a rapid slice from Buffy – with the front of the blade this time, it was all he could do to get the weapon up in time.
“Against normal old swords, no, but what about some ancient, magical weapon some evil demon dug up? You want that extension of your soul of yours to shatter because you were too lazy to learn proper blocking techniques during your training?” Buffy asked him with a smile. Xander frowned, obviously agreeing with her, but was searching for some rebuttal. A burst of Slayer speed, a lock-up, a twist with the swords, and she had disarmed Xander, taking his magnificent sword away from him.
“Hey!” Xander protested.
“My turn with the beauty,” Buffy singsonged lazily tossing her normal sword to Xander who caught it.
“We said no Slayer super powers I’m not ready for yet!” Xander said indignantly.
“Vamps won’t care about what you’re ready for, Xander,” Buffy said, taking her time to admire the magnificent blade and its perfect balance.
“Dealing with super powers is tomorrow, today we’d be pushing each other to get better and faster,” Xander told her, feeling half-betrayed at Buffy taking his zanpakutō away from him.
“Learn to deal with the unexpected,” Buffy said with a smile, bringing the sword up and doing the channeling her spirit technique on the sword that Xander had taught her.
“Okay, how about a bet,” Xander said told her with a smile. He let Buffy’s sword fall to the libraries wooden floor, relaxed, and spread his arms out as he said it. Buffy looked confused. “I’ll bet you, you won’t be able to hit me even once, even with your Slayer speed.”
“Bet for what?” Buffy asked, intrigued despite herself.
“If you can’t hit me, I get a kiss from you,” Xander told her confidently.
Buffy raised her eyebrows and then smiled. “What do I get out of it?”
Xander shrugged, “You tell me.”
Buffy raised her left index finger to her lip, lowering the sword with her right. She relaxed her pose a moment as she thought her options over. “You’ll be my slave for a month,” Buffy said with a grin.
“It’s a bet,” Xander nodded with a confident smile and relaxed.
Buffy looked at him for a moment. He still didn’t move, not to minimize his profile, not to tense his muscles to be able to move, not even to pick up the sword. Then she shrugged, and charged forward with all her Slayer might and speed – only to stop after barely a centimeter, the mystical blade remained unmoved above her head by her attempts to move it. “Hey!” she exclaimed as she pulled, pushed, and yanked to try to move it – it still refused to budge. Until with a sudden twist the weapon wrenched itself free from Buffy’s hand and landed smoothly in Xander’s hand, who smiled at her.
“You lose,” he told her, the grin widening further. “You didn’t really think you could get to use a manifestation of my soul without my permission, did you?”
“That’s so not fair!” Buffy complained, stamping her foot on the ground, “It was my turn with the shiny magic weapon!”
From behind the counter a tired voice sounded, “Buffy.” Giles rose into visibility, holding a stack of books that he started carrying back to the rear book cases. “Stop treating Xander’s highly dangerous mystical weapon like it’s a toy.”
“But I’m the Slayer, /I/
should have a cool, fantastic, super weapon. It’s completely not fair! Where’s /my/
magic sword?” Buffy whined, weakly stomping the ground.
“And please stop acting like a six-year-old, you’re giving me a bloody headache,” the librarian added, a tired sigh audible in his voice as he continued his trek toward the book case.
“But it’s not right,” Buffy said, this time seriously. “If I come across some kind of ghoul that is as immune to wood as vampires are to steel – or a ghost -” Buffy nodded pointedly at the ‘Death God’ with his ‘Spirit Slayer’ across from her, “I’m completely screwed. I can’t carry every possible weapon I might ever need on me. Why haven’t the Watchers ever created a nice kill-all magic weapon for Slayers?” Giles slowed his gate for a moment as he pondered the admittedly valid question, something Slayer senses did not fail to pick up, “See, you agree with me!”
“Yes, well, life isn’t fair and all that. There isn’t anything I can do about it, now is there?” Giles answered her as he disappeared behind a book case.
Buffy sighed deeply, and looked at Xander who had waited patiently. “I’m so not in the mood for training anymore, Xander,” she said a little disappointed.
“Me neither,” Xander told her and sheathed his blade in the invisible sheath on his back – the katana disappearing from view afterward.
Buffy started for the exit, when Xander said with a grin, “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something – like a lost bet.”
Buffy jerked to a halt, looked at Xander a moment, and said, “Fine.” She walked over to him, and Xander smiled in anticipation. He was pulled down gently, and her lips touched his left cheek, and then she continued on her path toward the library’s exit, smiling to herself.
“Hey, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Xander said, quickly following after her.
“You should have been more precise then, huh?” Buffy told him with a grin.
“You are a cruel, cruel friend!” Xander exclaimed indignantly with his hands in the air, “How can you screw me, your bestest best bud out of my fairly earned reward!” In the back of the library, as he packed away the books, Giles shook his head.
***** The Lunchroom
Larry was loudly bragging about his football skills. He and his friends reached the lunchroom cashier. He reached to the back of his pants to get his wallet, and found the pocket empty. He looked surprised and padded his pocket some more. Looking stricken now, he started feeling the rest of his pockets, and for good measure all over himself.
“Are you gonna pay, or not?” the lunch lady demanded coarsely.
“I can’t find my wallet,” he said, and snickers and outright laughs came from the students hearing him. They all loved the arrogant jerk and bully getting his. A few tables over Buffy watched the proceedings from the corner of her eyes with a smirk on her face. Next to her was Willow, and across from them Xander, with Willow talking to, or maybe at Xander. Embarrassed, angry, and blushing, Larry requested help from his friends – or maybe sycophants was a better word – and, perhaps miraculously, they lent him the money to pay for his lunch.
“Huh?” Buffy jerked her head back to her two friends.
Willow repeated her question, “What do you think about how Hitler assumed power in Germany?”
“Oh, Hitler’s nasty,” Buffy answered her best friend, and then turned to Xander and asked softly, “What does she mean?”
Willow let out a sigh as Xander answered with a grin, “Torching the Reichstag and blaming the communists and taking control over all communication.”
“Buffy, this is important stuff, you know?” the redhead complained, and then looked at Xander with wide eyes. “You /did/
pay attention,” she said with some relieved happiness and pride.
“I’m not a total lazy ass,” Xander shrugged, and then turned around looking at where Buffy had been looking. “Hey, Buff, what was so interesting over there anyway.”
Buffy answered while smiling, “Oh, Larry couldn’t find his wallet and had to borrow from his friends. It was like karma for the people he bullied out of their lunch money playing out right in front of our eyes.”
“Sorry, I missed it,” Xander said as he turned back to face his friend.
“Me too!” Willow eagerly agreed.
After lunch the three started walking to their next class. Once out of the lunchroom they passed a garbage bin, and surreptitiously Buffy pulled a wallet from her back pocket. An empty wallet which she quickly dumped into the garbage bin. Next to her Willow was chattering on about how exciting the physics class would be and the experiment they all would be doing. The redhead turned her head just in time to see Buffy let go of the wallet.
“Buffy!” Willow exclaimed in a hiss.
Buffy blushed and attempted to look innocent, saying, “What?” She failed miserably, more so when Xander turned around to look at his two friends and Buffy in particular.
“Did you steal Larry’s wallet?” Willow asked shocked, looking at her friend.
Buffy grinned, looking around to see if no one was in earshot, then blushing she scratched the back of her neck nervously, and said “Well, Amanda has all these interesting skills – and uh, he’s a bully, not some innocent guy. I thought it'd be a nice payback for all the lunch money he must have bullied out of people and the way he’s treated one of my best friends.” Willow looked at her with undisguised disbelief.
“Buffy-chan, you rock, and I appreciate the gesture,” Xander said with a huge grin, making Willow turn to gape at him.
“Why thank you, Xander-san,” Buffy answered with just a light bow, smirking.
Willow looked from one of her smiling friends to the other, and then said sourly, “You two are a bad influence on each other.”
“Oh, come on, Will, it isn’t like she emptied out his bank account and left him bankrupt,” Xander said with a grin, nudging her with his elbow gently. “Admit it, it’s funny.”
Willow’s sour look slowly broke into grin, “It /is/
nicely appropriate.” Willow was silent for a moment, guiltily contemplating the concept, and then said, “Maybe you can pickpocket Cordelia?”
“She can do what with me?!” a harsh voice asked, and Willow turned to see Cordelia close the distance between them and her quickly.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Willow babbled quickly, blushing in embarrassed.
Cordelia’s piercing gaze settled on the nervous Willow for a bit, then moved over her two nervous, guilty maybe, compatriots. “Know this, if Buffy beats me up, I will sue all your asses off,” Cordelia hissed at the three and then stalked off.
“That was a close one,” Xander muttered, looking after the retreating cheerleader. He allowed his eyes to move down to Cordelia’s skirt-clad ass, and then averted his eyes guiltily. Cordelia wasn’t exactly evil, in fact she had helped out on occasion, but especially Willow still considered the girl ‘the enemy’. She /was/
rather bitchy, and thinking of her in /that/
way just brought out guilt.
“I say ‘go’ for Operation Pick Pocket Cordelia,” Willow muttered in annoyance.
***** Sunnydale Public Library
Jonathan Levinson was just leaving the library just in front of the head librarian, who was just about to lock the doors. He’d been doing some minor studying after school, and where normally one might expect him to use the school’s library, after a very strange encounter early on in the year where the school librarian, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris and Buffy Summers had . . . well, not really kicked him out, but they made it seem like it was their personal club house or something like that. So, he’d taken to doing his studying here at the Public Library.
He had actually finished his homework and other school studies early in the afternoon, but what had kept him there so late was some very cool books in Latin!
And not just any Latin, like the modern variations used for scientific classification, or even the humorous Pig Latin, but real, written during the time of Rome, authentic Latin script! Ever since he was a kid he’d been interested in old facts and myths and legends and whatnot, and it helped that many of those inspired later works of popular science fiction or fantasy!
So, he’d been reading all afternoon and into the evening every single one of those old tomes written in authentic Latin. The fact that they talked about demons, monsters, and ancient magics just made it all the more interesting to him.
Now it was nighttime, and it was getting really late. Jonathan hoped his mother wouldn’t be mad when he finally got home, but then again, she hardly ever showed she cared about him in the first place. He doubted she would know even if he disappeared forever.
“On your way back to the boring old Shire, are we?” a voice suddenly spoke from the darkness around him. Jonathan jumped, turning every which way, trying to see exactly who or what had spoken to him.
He spun around about three times, jumping at the slightest noises before he calmed down and turned back towards the direction to his home. He jumped and screamed when he saw a beautiful dark-haired woman standing before him. She had porcelain skin and was wearing a lacy white dress. If he wasn’t so freaked out right now, he would be enraptured by her ethereal beauty.
“Hi-huh-hi-huh... Who a-are you?” Jonathan stammered.
“Hmm,” the beautiful woman floated, yes floated
up to him and then circled him like a shark around wounded prey. It wasn’t a nice thought, but one that was accurate he felt.
“Such pretty words floating round and round,” she dreamily sang as she floated along, staring not at his head but above and around it. Jonathan believed she really saw something circling and coming out of his head.
“Uhm... can I help you?” he nervously asked, very freaked out right now.
Suddenly she was right there in front of him, looking him right in the eye. He didn’t know what else to do, so he looked right back in hers, confusion and fear radiating from every pore of his body. She made no expression, just looking him right in the eye, before saying some words that sounded like they echoed throughout his very mind.
“So much potential, so much promise, so much . . . strength,” she gasped as she uttered the last word. “You are the one I have been searching for, the one I need. Mrs. Edith told me about you after my Spike was taken from me by the mean, old, joking reaper. You are my Hobbit in the Night!”
“Ooookkaaayyyy . . . I-I’m gonna go now,” Jonathan tried to edge around her. A hand stopped him, and lingered – gently. He looked at it in confusion and then looked up at her, into her deep brown eyes.
“Why would you wish to leave so quickly, handsome?” she said strangely gently. “This is where romances that make the stars sing and weep for joy start. You don’t want to run away and ruin the stars’ and your fun, would you?”
“Ah, well . . .” Jonathan started, but was cut off when cool lips touches his. A moment later her tongue touched his, and electricity shot through his body as his first kiss got stolen from him. The kiss was heaven, so much he couldn’t believe it, and he started kissing back, tongues worked to give each other pleasure. She broke the kiss suddenly, and then she started kissing gently down his neck, giving him erotic fluttering kissing. His manhood painfully hard, he somehow managed to say, “I’m under age.”
“Silly, Jon,” she told him, her left hand stroked along the other side of his neck and collarbone as the lips were now gone from the left side. “Great romances don’t care about age. It would make the stars sad not to see great romances blocked so.” Her mouth up to his earlobe and sucked on it for a moment, sending shivers down his spine. Then she whispered exotically, “Come to me. If you want more, come to Drusilla.” She finished with the name of a cemetery, and seemingly floated off, swaying back and forth as though listening to music only she could hear.
Jonathan swallowed, still rock hard, and frustrated as all hell. He didn’t know whether to run after her right away, or consider her dangerous. Fear and arousal warring inside him. Finally he decided to go home. He ran all the way home. But he did remember the strange woman’s name and the cemetery. Because he dreamed about her all night long. When he woke up the next morning, he was shaking, but from fear or some other intense emotion, he couldn’t begin to say.
The man walked onto Sunnydale High campus, entering the courtyard. It was evening, and already dark. He was wearing a brown suit, and carrying dark brown, leather bag. As he walked, he looked timidly back and forth. In fact, his walk and every step he took betrayed his timidness. He was obviously afraid of something. He came across a janitor taking out a full trash bag from a bin, and putting an empty one back in.
“Excuse me,” the fearful man spoke with an English accent. “Would you mind pointing me toward the library, please?”
The janitor looked up, studied the man for a moment and then turned to his left, right for the Englishman. The janitor pointed at a square outcropping from the rest of the school, right at the end of the courtyard, a simple door in the building. “That’s the library,” the janitor told him.
“Oh, thank you kindly,” the Englishman said politely, and the janitor simply shrugged, as if gesturing it wasn’t necessary. The janitor moved on to his next target as the Englishman hurried on toward the building indicated.
The Englishman kept looking frightened back and forth as he hurried across the courtyard. He made it! He knocked on the door. “Hello?” he asked, knocking harder on the door. No answer seemed forthcoming. “Is someone there!? Open the door, please. Rupert!?”
There was a growl directly behind him, and oppressive feeling of death and horror filling the area. The Englishman turned around instantly, looking into the hideously deformed, green face of a well-dressed woman. Her eyes flashed orange, and the man said, “Oh, god. Deirdre?”
The demon grinned nastily and spoke with a throaty voice, “Phillip.” Terror was instantly on Phillip’s face as he tried to back away – but he was standing against the door.
Xander was late. He was running onward, jumping over a narrow strip of vegetation as he ran toward the library. He was supposed to be participating in training with Buffy, but his meditations, and helping Willow trying to figure out the magic book she was learning from, had taken longer than expected. Since he didn’t have a watch, he was later than he liked. With his schedule these days, maybe it was time to buy one? If Willow didn’t have an alarm clock in her room, he might still not have known he was late. He rounded the corner, while fishing his key out of his left pocket. He saw a man up against the library door, a woman across from him. She spoke his name, ‘Phillip.’
“Hey,” he called just as the man started looking afraid. Both the man and the woman turned their heads toward him, and he could see her face. It was green, it was deformed, and her eyes flashed orange.
He was surprised for only a moment, then he reached with his right hand to his right shoulder, his Spirit Slayer appearing in its familiar scabbard. “Alright, she-bitch,” Xander said, taking hold of the red and blue ribbons encircled hilt. He pulled the katana free, and finished, “Come get some.”
The woman managed a real nasty and loud combination of a hiss and a growl and jumped toward him. Xander ran forward, while Phillip managed to stammer, “No-no, a sword won’t . . .”
Too late, the blade of Xander’s weapon smoothly sliced into woman’s heart – she didn’t seem to care much for dodging. She let out a sudden screech of pain while looking surprised and confused. Then she screamed even louder – a low growling scream. Her eyes glowed green, and the light seemed to leech out of them through her veins. With an inhuman howl the light suddenly turned outward, and with bright flash in all directions it snapped away. The green skin turned a more human color, and the deformities mostly disappeared, but she didn’t manage to look entirely human either. She went limp and heavy, and Xander retracted his sword, which was now coated in blood. Deirdre’s corpse dropped to the floor, dead.
“Shit, she was- human, possessed,” Xander muttered shocked.
“Don’t worry, she was already a corpse,” Phillip said with a frown as he slowly came over. Relieved, Xander pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket’s pocket and started cleaning his weapon.
Phillip looked astonished at the corpse on the ground. He waited a few moments, and then as Xander put his sword away, once more disappearing from view, Phillip said, “You killed him. You actually killed him. You destroyed Eyghon.”
“That’s what you usually do with demons, don’t you?” Xander asked him confused.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Phillip started to explain, still in shocked relief over his life being saved. “He is a demon in spirit form; he has to possess a body to be on this world, this plane of existence. That means you should only be able to banish him back his own dimension. But if you had done that, if Eyghon were still alive, Deirdre’s corpse would have disintegrated into a green slime.”
Xander grinned lightly, tapped his right shoulder and said, “It isn’t called a Spirit Slayer for nothing.” He lifted his left hand up, once again holding the key to the library back door, and said, “I take it you came here for Giles.”
“Yes, quite,” Phillip nodded, his breathing slowly going back to normal.
“Well, let’s get him and Buffy to help deal with the corpse,” Xander said and stepped over said corpse. He quickly reached the door, unlocked it with the key and opened it. Loud techno music assaulted his and Phillip’s ears as the door opened.
“Good song,” Phillip commented, making Xander look at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What?”
Xander just shook his head and grinned. “Nothing. It’s just Giles hates this kind of music. Calls it ’noise’ most of the time. And here I thought all stuffy prim and proper Englishmen were like Giles. Go figure!”
Phillip now sported the ‘second head’ look, and repeated in a barely heard whisper, “Giles? Rupert Giles, a stuffy Englishman? I think there might be some mistake, I’m looking for...”
Right at that moment, the music suddenly cut off as Xander and Phillip came out of the stacks onto the balcony of the high school library. Once the noise was silenced, Phillip stopped and stared, as Xander stood beside him, appreciating the view of Buffy in her workout outfit.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Giles breathed a sigh of relief as the noise was silenced.
“Rupert . . . ?” Phillip stammered at seeing his old college friend dressed in a tweed suit and presenting the full image of the stereotypical Watcher they’d always used to make fun of.
“Phillip!” Giles exclaimed, startled and surprised to see a face he’d thought he’d never see again after who knows how many years. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” the visiting Englishman sheepishly replied, “that’s a bit of a tale to tell. Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he subtly gestured to the very tense Slayer standing next to Giles.
“Oh, yes,” Giles jumped to at being reminded of his manners. “Phillip, this is my . . . protégé, Buffy Summers. And it would seem that you already know Xander Harris, the young man next to you. Speaking of whom, you are late.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Xander scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got held up with Wills and some other stuff. The other stuff is how I came across Phillip here. He was banging on the back door, begging to be let in when this demon-zombie lady came up to him and tried to reenact one of the worse scenes from ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Might want to consider headphones in the future, Buff.”
The blond arched a single eyebrow, glanced back and forth between Giles and Xander, then slowly relaxed. If the two men that she trusted most in life believed that this stranger was no threat, then she’d let him stick around for a while. Then the mention of ‘demon zombie’ finally filtered through her brain, as well as Xander’s subtle comment about the noise. “Yeah, well, I need a beat to do my exercises to,” Buffy said sheepishly, “So who’s your friend?”
“Actually, he says he’s a friend of Giles,” Xander replied, stepping down from the balcony to be at Buffy’s side. The two teens stared expectantly at the two middle-aged Englishmen, whom were suddenly very uncomfortable.
“Ah, yes, well . . .” Giles trailed off, pulling his glasses off to thoroughly clean them.
“Very sorry to drop in on you like this, Rupert,” Phillip said in hopes of moving past the unpleasantness. “But there is . . . was some rather urgent matters I had needed to discuss with you. However, after meeting this brilliant young man, there hardly seems a point anymore.”
Buffy snorted and Giles was flabbergasted.
“Um, excuse me,” Giles apologized, then looked at Phillip as though he’d just claimed the sun was purple and the sky made of applesauce. “Xander? Brilliant?”
“Hey!” the teen protested.
“Eyghon is dead,” Phillip stated plainly. Giles dropped his glasses.
“Whose Egon?” Buffy whispered to Xander.
“Demon zombie. Killed it with you-know-what. Guy was kinda surprised by it,” he said.
Phillip added somberly, “As is Deirdre, Eyghon had possessed her.”
“Oh dear lord,” Giles sat heavily in one of the chairs by the table.
“You’d better put some tea on, it’s going to be a long night,” Phillip said.
“About that,” Xander popped in, his finger raised in the air, “I know you Englishmen are sticklers for the tea and ceremony, but the body’s still outside . . .”
Buffy looked with wide eyes at him, while Giles reset his glasses and said, “Good heavens.” Giles took a few steps toward the short staircase that would bring him to the second level where the back door that Xander and Phillip had come from resided, and then paused. He turned back toward the other three occupants of the room, and said, “I know a ritual that will burn her remains completely, leave no biological trace of her. Afterwards, we can spread her ashes into the garden.”
“Whoa!” Buffy exclaimed a little shocked, Xander next to her had his mouth agape as well. “I know once or twice I’ve buried a demon body, but she’s human, right? And wouldn’t this Deirdre’s family want to bury her remains?”
“If the police find the body of a British woman with sword stab wounds, and find the only other two British people in Sunnydale had a personal history with her, and one of them has a collection of swords for “historical references” for history class in his library, who do you think they’re going to lock up for murdering her?” Giles asked Buffy pointedly, making subtle quotes with his hands at just above waist height for ‘historical references’.
“And we’d no doubt go down as accomplices,” Xander nodded sagely.
Buffy frowned, and said, “Damn. I never thought I’d ever be cleaning up a murder crime scene.”
“There is a first for everything, my dear,” Phillip commented with a smile and a humorous twinkle in his eyes. Buffy looked over at him with a frown. “I assure you, Miss Summers, this is only my second.”
“Second?” Buffy asked, looking at Phillip with a stern gaze, that made him nervous.
Giles pulled his glasses off and started cleaning them, nervously saying, “Yes, well, that’s a story for later, let’s just get on with it, shall we?” Buffy looked at Giles, it was almost as if the story included her prim and proper Watcher.
“I’m always up for a little cleaning after a good murder at night. I like to keep my ass out of jail,” Xander added jovially, half excited at the elicit event.
“Same goes for me, let’s get started, Ripper,” Phillip added with a smile.
Giles blanched as twin voices sounded, “Ripper!?”
The four of them sat on a pentacle, the body of Deirdre in the middle. Candles were at the five points of the pentagram in the circle. The flame that consumed Deirdre had started out sickly green and then purified into an ethereal blue. Afterwards, only some ashes remained. The group stood up as Giles grabbed a broom. As he started to sweep the ashes together so he could gather them on a dustpan, Xander and Buffy came to stand close to him. Xander with his hands folded across his chest and leaning back against the library’s counter, while Buffy was standing closer. Phillip had placed himself in one of the chairs at the table.
“So, Ripper?” Buffy asked innocently. Giles sighed, pausing in his sweeping for a moment.
“Do tell,” Xander supplied in addition.
“The follies of a misspent youth,” Giles said, and placed the broom against the counter. He grabbed the brush and dustpan and started gathering up the ashes.
“Not entirely misspent,” Phillip added from his position at the library table, smiling impishly.
“What does that mean?” Buffy asked him with a confused face. She walked over to the table, and Xander followed her.
Phillip smiled, and said, “I say we let Ripper here start, and then I can clarify.”
“I'd rather you didn’t, Phillip,” Giles said as he walked closer to the table, where Xander now joined the other two.
“Afraid I’ll ruin your reputation, old chap?” Phillip asked him with some mirth.
Giles sighed again, and said, “I wasn’t always dressing in tweed. My father had spent his time hammering home my responsibility to continue the family tradition of being a Watcher. I hated it. So I went to London when I was nineteen, and soon found myself in the esteemed company of Phillip, Deirdre, Thomas, Randall, and the not so esteemed company of Ethan Rayne, although I wasn’t aware of that last bit at the time.”
“I think you’re giving the rest of us back then a bit too much credit, Rupert,” Phillip said with a light smile that turned sour. “Thomas is dead as well, his and Deirdre’s death prompted me to seek you out.”
“Thomas too? I suppose I am giving us too much credit. I joined the worst lot that would have me that wasn’t the mob,” Giles said reminiscing bitterly.
“Ethan Rayne!?” Xander asked a little surprised, “You mean the bastard that turned us into our costumes for Halloween?”
“Ethan is here?” Phillip asked as Giles nodded to Xander.
“He better not still be,” Giles said darkly, “And he probably isn’t, from what I’ve heard Buffy and Xander’s alter egos weren’t exactly gentle with him.” Phillip looked over at them. Buffy smiled, and Xander gave his own smirk.
“Anyway, we practiced magics, small stuff really, amongst some more mundane hell-raising,” Giles explained grimly.
“Don’t forget you moonlighted as the local rock god, Rupert, my friend,” Phillip said with a grin.
“A rock god!?” the twin voices of Xander and Buffy said in shock, making Giles groan.
“He’s good with a guitar and he had an amazing singing voice; got us all the girls, he did,” Phillip told them with a smile, making Giles groan even louder, and making Xander’s and Buffy’s eyes bug out even more. “The only one who it never seemed to work on, was Deirdre.”
Getting away from that subject quickly, Giles continued, “Then Ethan and I stumbled onto something bigger.”
“The Mark of god-damned Eyghon, the sleepwalker,” Phillip spoke bitterly. “Can only possess the dead or the unconscious.”
Giles continued, “One of us would go under, and the rest of us would summon Eyghon.”
“It was a most interesting high,” Phillip said with some enthusiasm, smiling even.
“God, we were blithering idiots,” Giles said, shaking his head, and Phillip lowered his.
Silence reigned for a few moments, and Buffy prompted, “Then things went wrong, didn’t it?”
“Randall couldn’t control it, Eyghon consumed him whole,” Giles said, staring off in the distance remembering the horrific events.
“We tried exorcism, but Eyghon was just too strong,” Phillip finished for the librarian.
Giles looked bleakly at Buffy and Xander, “Eyghon killed him . . . we killed him, we were forced to.”
“So what did I miss?” Willow chirped as she walked alongside her two friends.
“Two old guys, both from England, playing catch-up,” Xander replied.
“Yeah, who knew Giles was actually kind of cool when he was a kid?” Buffy shrugged. Then she paused and added, “Who knew he was ever a kid!?”
“That’s of course after I kicked demon ass,” Xander said softly so no one would over hear. He grinned, and he said, “You should have been there, I was like Ash from Evil dead. ‘Yo, she-bitch, come get some.’ I never imagined I could get to do that . . . and survive to tell about it.”
Willow looked at him with wide eyes, “Really . . . you gotta be careful, Xan.”
“Heh, isn’t that supposed to be the guy’s line?” Xander asked with a half smile.
“No, that’s supposed to be the the mystically enhanced person’s line,” Buffy corrected in a low voice as they reached their lockers. They stopped there to change books before heading for their next class. Thank god that the California School Board decided that it would be much better for there to be ten to fifteen minutes between classes in all high schools in the LA/Hollywood areas. “Don’t let it get to your head, Xand. That’s the way to your grave,” Buffy warned.
Xander gave her salute with the words, “Yes, ma’am. Sjeez, instead of complimenting me on my awesomeness- I really wish the only eye-witness isn’t already going back home.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, but smiling while doing it. “So, Bronzing tonight?” Buffy asked her friends as they slowly made their way past the lounge area. “The renovations should be done, right?”
“If you mean are they finished repairing from the last vampire attack, yeah I think so,” Xander commented, then winced as Willow poked him in the back. “But unfortunately Wills and I have . . . well, not really plan plans, but we’ve got plans. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” He winced again as he received another poke in the back.
“Oh,” Buffy sounded a bit disappointed. “What kind of plans?”
“Training,” Xander answered, briefly touching the hilt of his blade to make it appear, then let it disappear again. “I’ve kind of made a deal with the sword. Part of that is giving up my free time so that I can eventually become a wielder worthy of using its power. But like I said, you’re welcome to join up.”
“Nah, I get enough of that from Giles and you during the day, I don’t need to start volunteering my little remaining normal time,” Buffy sighed. “I think I’ll swing by the Bronze if only to vaguely remember what it was once like to be a normal teenager. And to take care of any vamps too. Then I’ll probably go on patrol about 11. Meet you at Hyde Park?”
“Sure thing,” Xander nodded. “And I’m not as fast a sprinter as you, so probably expect me closer to 11:30, OK?”
Buffy giggled and nodded her head. Then she turned to Willow, who walked off without a word before the blonde could say anything. She frowned, concerned for a moment, but finally just shrugged and let it go. Besides, they had class to get to.
***** Willow’s room
Willow looked around the room and nodded. Xander was sitting on the bed, and watched Willow prepare a pentacle, put a crystal star in the middle, and candles on each pentagram point. Red ones at the top and two bottoms, and blacks at the side points. She opened the book she’d been using and checked the diagram in it, then checked it with her own set up. The book was heavy, very thick, rather big, was hard-covered and had an old look to it. She nodded, and then to be certain took out her compass again.
“High point exactly due north, yep,” Willow said and smiled at Xander. “All ready. So, the point of this exercise is to place some of my own magical energy inside the crystal star. I can then use it as an anchor and sensor for doing magic exercises. The first steps will be to learn to do more and to more control my own magic energy, and learn to focus it. Apparently if you just start casting, especially big, powerful, and nasty spells, you can cause a backlash in your own magic and soul.” She looked up from the book at Xander, and said, “W-which is bad.” She looked down again and read some of the description, as well as a picture of a veiny, demon-eye-glowy, worse-than-a-vampire, more-like-a-zombie warlock who screwed it up. “V-very bad.” She felt glad Xander had made her promise to take this slow, and not just dabbled about with whatever she’d get her hands on. “If I’m forced to do this badly in defense of life, it should also help me in purging the corruption before it gets nasty,” Willow commented, nodding.
“So, we’re ready to do this?” Xander asked with a light smile. The bed he was sitting on was light brown wood. The walls were blue and had a poster of Stephen Hawking pinned on it, and next to it a poster of the Spice girls. It was his Willow to a tee, obviously. The sheets of the bed were pink, while a computer was standing on her power desk. Girly in some ways, and the rest a total intellectual – but he knew the games Willow liked to play on her computer were as far removed from girly as you could get. When she was driving over pedestrians in Carmageddon, she could be downright scary.
“Yeah, I have to sit on the north side of the circle, and you on the south side,” Willow told him as she walked over to her position. She sat down into the lotus position as Xander reached his spot. He then did the same.
“Okay, here, I go,” Willow said. With her hands on her knees, she closed her eyes, and concentrated. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked at Xander, allowing his presence to focus her. She gently murmured words Xander couldn’t decipher, he suspected they weren’t even words, just an action to let Willow focus better. He became aware of energy slowly building in the room, an odd tingling sensation alongside his senses, and he attempted to open his sixth sense to it – a sense for energy he knew existed through Byakuya Kuchiki’s knowledge, a sense he was still developing. And then the energy was gone.
“Dang it,” Willow said, and then breathed in deep.
“I could feel it building, just try it again,” Xander told her calmly, allowing his calm tone to calm Willow down.
Xander’s redhead friend nodded, and gently breathed in and out. “OK, here I go again,” Willow said, and let her senses go inward. She went to look for the magic energy she knew everyone had to a certain extent. Some had more, some had less, and she had felt and trained with her energy before. Mostly to just let it flow; in fact, she had sensed varying energies inside of her. Xander had told her as much, body energy, chi; mind energy, or the energy contained in the body’s most basic parts, called jing; and finally spirit energy, reiryoku in Death God terms, or shen in Eastern terms, and in RPG terms mana, basically magic energy. It was that last magical energy she was seeking to harness. With some effort she pulled on her magic energy, it felt like trying to fish one specific noodle out of soup with a fork. Every time you though you had it, pulling it partially out of the liquid and free from the other noodles, it would slip again from your fork and back into the soup.
So once again, just as the energy started to form and pulled up to obey her command, it slipped again and disappeared inside her. “Ugh,” Willow muttered in disgust as she once again failed.
After she failed a third time, Xander asked her, “Hey, Will, does the book say anything about the reason why I’m sitting here?”
Willow nodded, and said, “It says someone else’s presence you know well, and has some power himself should allow me to be more calm and at ease in taking a hold of my power.”
“Nothing else?” Xander asked, and the redhead shook her head. “Okay, then I have a better idea,” he told her and got up.
“But the book says this is the best way,” Willow said as she saw Xander getting out of the pentacle and walk around her.
As Xander sat down behind her, he replied, “For some people, maybe, but every person is different. What is best and easiest for another, may not be necessarily best for you.” Sitting behind, he breathed in gently, and placed his hand on Willow’s back, taking care not to have his arm low enough the candle below could hurt him. “Try again,” Xander said, as he projected his chi forward and into Willow. Until now, all he had been able to do with his chi was cause some goosebumps on himself and others; nothing to help in a fight, but it could be helpful here.
As Willow felt Xander’s hand gently touch her back dead center, it felt good, and she felt herself relax. She knew him, and Xander gently touching her was a good feeling. Maybe a little too good a feeling. *Bad Willow,*
the redhead admonished herself, she was here to get better at magic so she could help protect Buffy, not indulge in selfish romantic fantasies.
She took a deep but gentle breath, and focused again, eyes closed. She noticed the difference instantly – where before Xander’s energy had been a vague concept beyond her immediate world, and hadn’t seem very helpful in identifying and tapping into her own, right now Xander’s chi was obvious. It mixed some with her own, making her magic energy stand out in stark contrast to her chi. Delicately she took it, and brought it forward. Xander’s touching hand’s calming influence helped her to remain relaxed, not rushing things. And so, three minutes after Xander’s hand was placed on her back, a gently, flowing, airy white energy floated inside the cavity that her legs, arms and torso made.
“I did it,” Willow whispered gently as she brought her hands back and very gently put them on either side of the small, mist-surrounded orb, and pulled it along. A few moments later she slipped the energy into the crystal star, it’s properties trapping the energy inside. Thus the crystal was gently glowing from the inside out. “I did it!” Willow exclaimed once again, this time louder and with more enthusiasm.
Xander took the hand from Willow’s back, and crawled around Willow, looking at the crystal with the glowing energy inside. “That’s impressive, Will,” Xander said with a smile.
Willow nodded with a big grin. “Now that I've placed a little bit of my magical energy in there, I should be able to get much more out of my meditation sessions, and more easily go into meditation. But the best yet, it allows me to see whether anything’s affecting my magic.” Willow turned away from Xander and looked at her crystal. “Let’s try that out, if I use my magic, I should be able to let it react to it, and probably even my emotions,” Willow said, and closed her eyes for a moment. After a little effort she felt like she was moving her magic around inside of her.
“Heh, it’s moving,” Xander said with a smile. Willow opened her eyes, and the light inside the crystal indeed was moving about; like an ultra dense galaxy far far away, having lighter currents and darker currents as it swirled around. Willow smiled brightly, and the whitish light of before gained more yellow to it.
“It works!” Willow said triumphantly.
***** The Bronze
Jonathan sighed, drinking the last of his soda as he stared forlornly out on the dance floor. Where, of course, all the pretty people, popular kids, and attractive girls were dancing and flaunting their perfect, lustful bodies. He sighed again, looking down at the ice melting in his glass.
He didn’t even know what he was doing here. What had possessed him to come to the /Bronze/
of all places? This was not where people like him hung out. Not even on the pretense of hanging out.
Fed up with himself and his own attitude, he got up and left. Instead of going out the front though, where he knew everyone would see him leave and would notice the geek trying to act cool and finally going home like a kicked puppy with its tail between its legs, he went around to the side and then went out the back door.
Surprisingly, the alley was completely deserted when he came out. He could have sworn that he saw a few people walking out this way earlier. Although, he sniffed, there was something in the air that totally reeked, which could explain why they might have left fairly quickly.
Jonathan stepped out fully into the alley and tried to see where he needed to go from here, scuffing his shoes along the pavement as he walked. He idly noted that there seemed to be a lot of dust in the alley, judging from how much was kicked up just from him walking.
Frowning, he slowly turned around, not really knowing why, even as he did it. He nearly jumped when he fully turned around, but managed to contain himself. Standing there, only a couple feet away from him, was the same woman from a couple nights ago. She was just standing there, staring at him with her deep, dark brown eyes, her porcelain skin and lacy white dress shining in the light from the moon and the street lamp.
“Uh . . . hi?” Jonathan nervously waved.
“Hello,” the woman, Drusilla - he finally remembered her name - replied. “You did not come our place of romance, Jonathan,” she voice singsonged seductively. “The stars were not pleased.”
“Ah, well, I had homework to do,” Jonathan answered weakly, noticing Drusilla’s hips sway enticingly; mesmerizing him.
“Hm, but what is a beautiful boy doing all alone on a night when the stars sing of romance?” Drusilla purred, walking over and sashaying her hips hypnotically. She had reached Jonathan awfully fast, faster than she had any right to. Now she was just standing there, her breasts just below chin height - she was wearing no bra. He knew this, because in the pale light of the moon and nearby out lamp, the dress became semi-translucent, allowing him to see her twin globes “You should be conquering maidens’ hearts, and make them sing for joy, my Hobbit in the Night.”
“Ah, I uh, took a break. Gets old after a while,” Jonathan bluffed, wanting to use his words to sneak backwards and away before running off. But he was moving too slowly, she may seem crazy, but she was so hot, and mysterious, and this might be his only chance to /ever
/ have sex in his entire lifetime!
Seeming to glide once again, Drusilla closed the small gap near instantly. “Then it is time to soar to a new peak, my love. Make my body sweeten with joy,” she murmured, circling around Jonathan, gently taking his arms. She placed a fluttering kiss on Jonathan’s neck. Jonathan turned around, half afraid, half aroused, and then his head was taken in a grip and her lips touched his. A scorching kiss followed, one that took all resistance away from Jonathan, he kissed back, letting tongue massage tongue, too caught up in the pleasure to notice the coldness of hers. Feeling her breasts touch on the top of his chest broke whatever reluctance may have remained. When Drusilla finally broke the kiss, Jonathan was looking at her with wide lustful and adoring eyes. He was able to admit to himself he had wanted her from the first kiss onward, only fear holding him back. Not anymore.
“Come, my pet, for what we are about to do, the stars wish to be the only witnesses,” Drusilla murmured at him, and Jonathan nodded with a bright grin.
Less then half an hour later they were on a bed with red sheets in some abandoned factory. Jonathan didn’t know what sort of abandoned factory would have a bed, but he didn’t care. He was massaging an honest to god woman’s breasts, and licking and kissing them. The moans coming from Drusilla told him he was doing good. “Bite them,” the goddess hissed, and he complied, sinking his teeth into the supple flesh. He took the nipple of her other breasts between his index finger and thumb and squeezed. His teeth roamed over the one, and an erotic growl came from Drusilla.
Suddenly he was pushed down, and felt his pants quickly leaving his legs. He looked down, and watched in amazement as the beauty raised his already hard cock up, and her open mouth moved towards the tip. Then, as heaven took him, he leaned back, his head in the back of neck and groaned with the pleasure. Wet, tight, sucking lips moved up and down, and he just laid all the way back to enjoy. Not too long after that, he entered a higher heaven as he felt tight, wet, massaging flesh wrap around his engorged member. He looked back up in astonishment as the beauty started a gentle pace riding him, a pace that steadily increased. Her inner muscles squeezed and massaged, while moving up and down, back and fourth. “Oh, god, this is . . .” he muttered.
“Yes, my magnificent, enjoy, enjoy, and come inside of me. Let this union be consummated with your future life fluid blessing my inner unholiest. Miss Edith will be cross with me, you now,” Drusilla murmured, and Jonathan just nodded, the only thing registering with him was the sensation of the supple wetness enveloping his erection. Drusilla bent forward, continuing her riding motions, kissing Jonathan on his mouth, and then onward alongside his right cheek, until she was kissing, nuzzling and licking the side of his neck. Just wait a little longer, and all the sweet nectar flowing there would be hers.
“Oh, god, oh, god, I’m gonna . . .” Jonathan trailed off. Drusilla vamped out, and firmly but sensually sank her fangs into his neck. His eyes widened and the sudden pain, the oh so erotic pain of feeling incisors entering his flesh. It was heaven, it only enhanced the pleasure down below. The feeling of his life blood flowing from him more so. “Ugh,” he groaned and moaned out, as it felt like a volcano of pure pleasure erupted throughout his body, and especially his cock. His seed coated the vampire’s pussy, as she greedily drank from his other nectar. Her own orgasm claiming her making her suck and swallow up the blood faster. “Oh . . . oh, god, that was amazing,” Jonathan muttered, feeling weaker by the second, but not really caring as he basked in the afterglow.
Drusilla sat up, and quickly sliced open a gash just above her breasts. “Here, my hobbit, drink,” she said as she pulled him up, and his mouth to her blood.
He was too drowsy to register the yellow eyes, blood coated mouth, the fangs, or the nails on his sex partner. He simply obeyed, and found the blood tasted oddly sweet yet bitter, drinking thirstily from the generous flow. But then, it was over, darkness claimed him, and he fell back. Jonathan Levinson was dead, forever live Jonathan Levinson. Drusilla laughed a laugh part derangement and part orgasmic afterglow.
A long while later his eyes opened, and despite it being night, everything seemed clearer right away. The former Jonathan Levinson rose from the dead, and growled. Vamped out, his eyes settled on Drusilla. “My goddess,” he said with a throaty aroused growl, as he took in the sheer red negligee that clung to his maker’s curves.
“Ooh,” Drusilla purred with pleasure, looking at the still naked form of the new vampire. “My Hobbit in the Night, so beautiful.” Jonathan had crossed the distance between the two, and grabbed Drusilla by her hair. He pulled her face down with force and kissed her fiercely. He broke the kiss apart, and Drusilla murmured, “The streets shall run red with blood.”
“Speaking of blood, I’m a little peckish, my goddess. You won’t mind if I go out for a little while, will you?” Jonathan asked with a grin.
“Bring me something?” Drusilla pouted sweetly.
“Any preferences, Dru-baby?” Jonathan asked with a smirk. He could practically taste the blood sliding down his throat, delicious blood of the still living.
“Surprise me, Jon,” Drusilla whispered, as she sensually laid herself down onto the bed.
Jonathan looked at his clothes and made a face, “Yeugh, and get some new clothes while I’m at it.”
***** Inside The Bronze
Buffy sat in the corner booth that she and her friends usually occupied when just hanging at the Bronze, but without said friends it really wasn’t doing much for her. She’d done a sweep earlier, as soon as she got here in fact. Just in time too, as she’d caught sight of a couple vamps leading some not-too-bright-teens out the back towards the alley. She’d swooped in at the last second just to save the terrified coeds who couldn’t be bothered to stop screaming long enough to say thank you. Who knew Sunnydale High’s starting quarterback was a soprano?
Anyway, the slaying had gone well. Well... well enough she supposed. She’d pulled out the rapier short sword that she felt a compulsion to wear on her person that night when gearing up for patrol. Thankfully the suede jacket she’d also worn with her outfit made the perfect hiding spot for it, as well as making it easy to retrieve.
On a whim, after cutting up the first two vamps piece by piece, she pulled out a bottle of holy water and practically soaked her blade with it. Upon contact with the next vamp, it screamed and started to smoke, and the funny part was that it wasn’t a scream of pain, but anger and it shouted about scars instead of being more worried about being killed by the Slayer. She sighed and proceeded to take it apart as she had the others. A hand here, a piece of arm over there, and an ear somewhere. Finally, the vamp had enough and tried running. She couldn’t have that now, so, with a quick burst of Slayer agility and some improvisation from a little voice in her head, she cut off a power line going to one of the other buildings and watched as it slowly swung down and caught the vampire square in the back.
After the maneuver was over, Buffy realized how incredibly lucky she was. First off, she was holding a /metal/
sword, covered in highly conductive water, but the worst she got from cutting the live wire was a small tingle and a warm palm. Another piece of luck, she realized as the wire struck the vamp just as his foot landed in a puddle of gutter water, was that thanks to the water on her sword, the wire had a few drops on it, making it primed for exactly what she had in mind. In short, electrocuting the vampire into paralysis.
When all was said and done, the vampire was burned to ash thanks to the sparks starting a fire in the vamp’s own clothes, but it left a funky smell afterwards. Looking around and seeing no other vamps, Buffy had put her sword away and walked around to the main entrance. She vaguely remembered hearing the alley door open again, but shrugged it off as kids sneaking out to smoke. She certainly didn’t sense any more vampires in the area.
Her civic duty done for the evening, she’d settled down to have a good time as a normal teenager, only for her to get bored a minute after she’d finished her drink and been listening to a song she’d heard almost a hundred times already in her lifetime. Normally she might engage Xander in conversation, or beg him to play with his sword some more. She’d prefer gossiping and talking with Willow, but with them off doing /training/
, she had little else to occupy herself with.
Suddenly, she got an idea. She smirked, remembering Willow’s permission. Eying Cordelia and her Cordettes, she briefly considered what she was doing when the idea turned into an urge. Her face adopted one of conscious superiority, one that had been all too present on Amanda’s visage in the day to day. After all, just because Buffy didn’t have anything to occupy herself with did not mean that /Amanda/
She briefly considered and rejected several approaches and ways of getting what she wanted, and then finally settled on testing just how good she really was. After all, anybody can do the pickpocket thing with a distraction or a second getting the mark in just the right position. She’d also proven that she could slide right past a person, have them look her in the eye even, and still get away clean, as she’d proven several days ago with Larry. But she had not yet undergone the ultimate test, being able to steal from a person, right under their nose, without them even suspecting that you were there in the first place.
Less than ten minutes later, Buffy was at the bar, struggling to contain her giggles as she watched Cordelia and all of her posse scramble and search their purses for the cash, or even credit cards to pay for the drinks they’d already ordered and the ones they were trying to order. After watching them run around like chickens with their heads cut off, (disturbingly she had actual memories of what that looked like), before they finally just gave up and left, presumably to go home. On their way out, Buffy proved just how good she could be by reverse pickpocketing Harmony - she put Cordelia’s and most of the other girls’ credit cards into Harmony’s purse. Harmony’s credit cards went to the Bronze Lost & Found.
Meanwhile, with all the extra cash she suddenly had on hand, Buffy bought everybody in the nightclub a free drink and made sure that for the rest of the night the DJ only played her favorite songs. Settling back into her booth with her ‘free drink’, Buffy smirked and enjoyed the rest of her stress free evening.
For someone with his technological prowess, turning off the alarms of the clothing stores had been easy. Afterwards, he had picked out his new clothes. He had always imagined himself better dressed than he was now – more sophisticated, but had never had the guts, instead sticking with his nerd threads. No longer, this was a new world, his goddess had made him see that. He had gathered several pairs of trousers, and more stylish jeans, along with button shirts, and smooth T-Shirts in various colors. Finally he’d gotten several jackets, some from suits, others leather. He had stuffed them in some of the store’s bags after using a pair of scissors to cut off the price tags. Leaving only the outfit he was putting on – jeans, a blue t-shirt and a dark green suit jacket – and his old outfit free. He thought for a moment, and noticed the store sold Zippo lighters. He took multiple. One he opened up and poured the lighter fluid over his old clothes. A second he lit up, and tossed onto the pile, which was immediately set ablaze. Then he took the bags containing his ‘purchases’ and left.
As he walked away from the burning store, an evil smile on his face, he thought, *Now for take out.*
He headed toward the Bronze area, deciding some of his former classmates would make great dinner. It was not long after that he came across a couple walking away from the Bronze. The guy was average height, and the girl was blond, a little shorter then the guy. Jonathan grinned, recognizing them easily.
“Scottie!” he called. “Scott Hope, and Michelle, fancy meeting you here.”
“Jonathan?” Scott asked, checking a second time. The young man before him, dressed in immaculate clothing, was a far cry from the nerd he knew. “What happened to you?”
“Something wonderful, something you wouldn’t understand, or believe,” Jonathan told him with a grin.
“You look ridiculous,” the girl told him.
Jonathan peered at the pretty blond, one of the more popular girls. “Of course, I do. A nerd that’s dressed sophisticatedly and with great care, couldn’t possibly be anything other than ridiculous, right, Michelle? Might mean the cool crowd gets dethroned – quickly, put them down in their places,” Jonathan mocked happily.
Scott Hope felt the need to stand up for his date, and said, “And you think you’re cool now, is that it, Jonathan?”
Jonathan smiled eerily gently, evil glittering in his eyes, and said, “Oh, I don’t know, is room temperature enough?” Michelle and Scott looked confused, and then Jonathan vamped out. Michelle screamed, Scott yelled with shock, but Jonathan was already on him. A kick to the stomach doubled the boy over with impossible ease and with impossible strength that a terrified Scott found he had no hope of defeating, Jonathan brought Scott’s arms behind his back. Then his fangs sank into the back of Scott’s neck, and he screamed with pain and fear as he felt his blood and life drain out of him.
Michelle screamed again, and attempted to run, but Jonathan’s predatory yellow eyes switched to her, and bore into her via her eyes. *Sit down, and shut up,*
was the mental command, and she did so like a puppet on a string. Unable to scream she watched with large terrified eyes as Jonathan continued draining Scott dry. *Who would have thought all that dabbling in magic would pay off this well,*
Jonathan thought to himself with a grin that made him spill a little of Scott’s blood.
Less then a minutes later, depriving his brain of blood by drinking it from his neck before it could get there, Scott was dead. It took Jonathan another minute to drain him completely dry, and then he unceremoniously dumped him in a nearby alleyway. “Ah, that hit the spot,” he said to no one in particular, and looked down at the terrified Michelle. “Now, Michelle, you will make a fine gift to my goddess Drusilla.” Finally, he picked up the bags with his new clothes once again, and dragged the motionless blond along by her mane of golden locks.