Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


A/N: No beta, so please mention any errors you come across. I'm thinking of having this be a series but I'm still on the fence about it. Dexter is very difficult for me to write and I'm not even sure I got him right, so another story would be headache inducing but it depends.
In this story, Spike and Xander are in a relationship but it's not noticeable at all, so no need for a slash warning. Reviews are loves.



Chapter 1

Dexter trailed after his next victim, silently, watching carefully as she entered the house of her next presumed victim. She had a case load of suspicions about her, assumed murders, dozens of kills that just couldn’t be proven.

He tiptoed towards the house making sure to be as silent as humanly possible but as soon as he opened the window, he heard the angry conversation come to a stilted stop. Dexter knew that whoever was inside knew that he was there. It wasn’t wise but he entered the house anyway, hoping that the ace in his sleeve would work.

The woman came out first, face set in stone with anger and a bloody man held by his hair was dragged behind her. She looked him over and sneered. Dexter didn’t waste any time, he grabbed the tranquilizer gun and fire two successions of shots into her and one into the man behind her.

They both startled, looking down in unison at the darts. Dexter was surprised that they were both still standing. He knew for a fact that each of those darts was filled with enough drugs to sedate a human instantly. The woman threw her hair over her shoulders and scowled at him. She grabbed the two darts and pulled them out crushing them, not caring about the needles digging into her fingers.

Dexter shot her once more and gaped a bit when she was still standing. Not wasting any time he fired shot after shot into her body until she was covered with multiple darts, the red feathered ends bright against her fair skin. Dexter relaxed a bit when she finally fell down at the thirteenth shot. He turned towards the other person in the room calculating the least harmful way to deal with him since he had run out of tranquilizer darts.

The man just waved him away, “Just take the bitch away. I don’t care what you do with her, just get the hell out.”

Dexter frowned at the man watching as he walked away leaving a trail of blue blood behind him. Not sure what to do, he bent and lifted the woman; shifting her weight onto one shoulder he exited the house. He settled her on the passenger’s seat and watched the house for a bit and shrugged. He could always return the next day.



After securing the woman on the metal bed, Dexter began laying down his tools. He emptied his mind as he made sure that every surface of the room was covered and that his weapons were sharp enough. A noise behind him caused him to turn and he gaped momentarily when the woman begin to stir, giving clear signs of waking up hours before she was supposed to. He shrugged and grabbed his favorite knife, the one that he always used on the first cut.

There was always a corner of his mind that demanded that he felt guilty anytime he reveled in the kill knowing deep down that his father wouldn’t have appreciated that momentary joy or the happiness he exhumed at the sight of their blood. But he consoled himself with the thought that at least the kills that he made and the lives that he took were those of the guilty.

Dexter watched as the woman’s eyes fluttered open and instead of the panic that he was accustomed to seeing within his victims’ eyes, this one’s gaze was sharp, quickly assessing her situation and she began struggling. Dexter approached her and her eyes widened a bit at seeing him but her struggles just increased.

Dexter smiled, “Theodora Phillips,” he stated and waved at the pictures he posted along the wall, “Look at your victims. 25 men mutilated and killed, 4 women with their necks snapped and your family,” he paused for a bit, thinking of his own family but pushed the thought away and continued, “Your father and mother, three younger siblings, two sisters and one brother who was only a toddler.”

Dexter stared into her wide eyes, happy that the emotions that he desired slowly filled the green orbs. Her eyes glazed with tears and she yelled out, “I didn’t kill my family, I didn’t. Let me go, you asshole.”

Dexter allowed the knife to glint in the light, “I noticed that you didn’t deny killing the others.”

She gulped at the knife but sneered, “They deserved it. They’re all monsters no matter how much they try to fit in with the humans, they’re monsters. I’m a Slayer; it’s my job to make sure that they die.”

Her hands snapped through the tape and she began ripping through the tape that held her naked torso down. Dexter stared with surprise at the unexpected sight; no one has ever broken free before.

He shot five darts at her as she sat up and began untying her legs. She stumbled as the darts embedded into her left thigh but she increased her pace and broke through the bindings of her legs. Dexter grabbed the knife and approached her. He was disappointed that he had to conclude this event in such a crude manner. There was a pattern to his kills, a meticulous creativity that he was proud of and for the first time, he was breaking the design.

He approached the girl and made to stab her but her hand snapped around his wrist in a lightening fast movement. Dexter winced as the bones grinded between her small fingers and she threw him against the wall, his head slamming against the concrete surface. He watched through blurry eyes as she undid her bindings and limped towards the door, gait haphazard. Dexter’s eyes closed of their own accord despite the fight to keep them open.

The sunlight beaming onto his face woke him up and as he blinked awake and groaned, grabbing his head as it throbbed painfully.

Glancing around the room, the night’s event rushed back and he sat up unsteadily and headed towards his car. A quick look at his watch told him that he spent 8 hours dozing against the wall.

He made a quick call to his job, letting them know that he would come in late and began his search for his prey. He thought of all of her previous haunts and quickly decided against them. None of her old locations appeared permanent, she moved from motel to motels, only occasionally pausing to rest in run-down apartments. The best place to start would be at the last victim’s apartment. The man seemed to know her and would probably have some clue to her whereabouts.

Pulling up to the house, he walked to the front door, not bothering trying to break in. He knocked on the door and a man opened waving him inside.

Dexter hesitated a bit, feeling slightly uneasy before the one-eyed man but walked inside. The door clicked close behind him and he blinked as his eyes adjusted with the darkness that encompassed the whole room. The windows were covered with heavy black drapes and his pupils narrowed as the overhead light turned on. The one eyed man glared behind his back and Dexter turned, his eyes landed on icy blue ones.

The blond man smirked and Dexter took it upon himself to start the conversation, “Who are you?” he asked, “The man who lives there is a short red head and I’m sure you are trespassing.”

The blond snorted, “I was invited here. Don’t know about the whelp here but me, I got me an invitation.”

The dark haired one sighed and smiled at Dexter, “My name’s Xander and grumpy over there,” he said waving at the man lounging on the couch, “is Spike.” The brown eye narrowed and he continued, voice becoming dry, “And you must be Dexter.”

Dexter nodded frowning a bit and Xander continued, “You’re the one that tried to kill Theodora last night.”

Dexter froze at the words, taking a step back towards the door. He froze when he noticed a quick movement on the corner of his eyes and he turned around coming face to face with Spike who grinned widely and tsked, “You’re not going anywhere.”

Dexter turned and stared into Xander’s eye. The man appeared a bit different. It was a slight change that a normal person wouldn’t have noticed but Dexter was not normal. He recognized the clear signs that told him that the man before him was a predator. The arctic way that his eyes froze, all warmth disappearing. There was also the body language that suggested that any movement would be met with an attack, and he could feel the similar vibe from the man behind him.

He forced himself to relax, his face becoming blank as he experienced the familiar sensation of all emotions leeching away from him. He held Xander’s eyes, not showing any fear.

The man behind him moved close and Dexter could feel his shirt shifting at the press of a cold body against his back. A slight puff of air at his neck almost startled him but he didn’t move and after quick seconds Spike moved back.

Dexter turned towards Spike and raised an eyebrow questioningly and the man shrugged answering the unasked question, “Was just checking to see if you were scared.”

Spike raised a responding scarred eyebrow and added, “Funny thing is that you aren’t.”

Xander sighed and all attention turned to him. “Why did you try to kill her?” he asked Dexter.

Dexter shrugged, “What makes you think that it was me?”

“Theo described you perfectly and I knew the first place you would be, is here. And surprise, surprise, here you are.”
Dexter didn’t deny it or argue, “Where’s the man that lives here?”

“He moved away,” Spike answered, “Made him mighty nervous, having a Slayer come after him.”

Dexter frowned at the familiar word, “Slayer?” he asked.

Xander smiled nastily, “Familiar words?” he asked.

When there was no response from Dexter, he continued, “That’s what Theodora is, makes it quite difficult for someone to kill her.” His face hardened, “We know you tried to kill her. I just want to know why, we’ve combed over your files and nothing suggests that you have any association with Slayers. So why did you try to kill her?”

Dexter stayed quiet but his mind was whirling at this information, this man had accessed his file and that word ‘Slayer’ seemed to be particularly significant to them.

Spike jumped back onto the couch, “I think I should do the interrogation. You’re not getting anywhere with him.”
Xander shrugged, “Have at it.”

Spike stalked towards Dexter and inhaled, nostrils flaring wide, “I can smell them on you. The kills, the splatter of old blood, I can practically taste it.”

Dexter froze and Spike continued, circling around him like a shark, “You think you’re a big monster but I’m scarier than you could possibly ever think to be.” He grabbed Dexter by the neck and lifted him up, “I’m stronger,” his face shifted into his demonic one and he added, “I’m a whole lot better at it.”

Spike shook him hard, “Tell me what you’ve got against Slayers. Why are you trying to kill them?”

Dexter opened his mouth and gasped out, the air in his lungs becoming thin as the man choked him. His vision blurred as his eyes watered and he was abruptly dropped onto the floor gasping for breath.

He coughed and Spike impatient asked, “I’m waiting here. Why are you going around killing them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dexter rasped the words faint, he cleared his throat and continued, “I’m not hunting any slayers. All I know is that she has been killing people, she’s a murderer.”

Dexter was scared of the man and his eyes shied away from the demonic vision that met his every time he looked in Spike’s direction. He continued, “She’s a killer and she was going to kill again, I was making sure that she was stopped.”
Xander sighed, “Theo’s a bit messed up. We’ve been tracking her a while and she’s been slipping through our fingers every time we closed in on her.”

Dexter rose from the floor slowly, “She was screaming about monsters, is that what…” he stopped and waved at Spike and as he turned towards the man, the demonic face seemed to melt away.

He looked at Xander who nodded, “Spike here is a vampire and Theo is a Slayer, she’s supposed to kill vampires and demons but lately she’s been going after the passive types, some kind of vendetta in the search of the demon that killed her family. We have her in custody right now and she’s getting help.”

Dexter nodded along, pretending to understand as he kept a wary eye on Spike’s agitated pacing, “Why are you telling me this?”

Xander shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do with you?”

Spike raised his hands and Xander glared at him, “We’re not killing him,” he answered firmly.

Dexter coughed and suggested, “You could let me go?”

Xander nodded even as Spike shook his head, “We’ll let you go,” Xander agreed, “For now.”

Dexter left the house feeling the lone eye as it bore into his back. He entered his car not thinking and drove to his house. He called his work and called out for the day, the raspy whisper of his voice helping firm his lie about feeling sick.

He swallowed two white pills and lay on the bed and finally allowed his mind to go over the earlier events, wondering how to deal with this. As the tiredness finally caught up with him, his last thoughts were that Harry definitely did not have a rule on how to deal with this.



A/N 2: I know Dexter's a bit less cold, but I figure that some fear would come to the forefront when confronted with a vampire. Leave me a review and tell me what you think.