Prologue:

New Orleans, LA
Summer of 2001

"Okay, Spike, what is wrong?" Buffy snapped at him, hands on her hips, after he stopped for the tenth time that night to look around them.

Buffy and Spike had left the hotel room they were sharing less than two hours ago. They were walking down one of the streets in the French Quarter, planning on visiting one of the more obscure graveyards in the old city. Spike had been jumpy all night, always looking behind them, or stopping suddenly.

He looked around them warily, bleached hair gleaming in the harsh light of the street lamp. He shed away from it, and turned back to face Buffy, saying, "I'm fine. I just keep feeling something."

Turning around to continue to make their way to the graveyard, they missed the flash of blond hair as it went around the corner of the street they had just passed.

_____________

Part 1

Los Angeles, CA
Two Weeks Earlier

"Angel, what is this?" Angel's 'connection' to the PTB was digging her way through his fridge, ass in the air. He was trying to look at her, without looking at her ass. Or looking like an ass.

"What?" He asked, trying to look past her into the fridge.

"Two year old mustard?" She picked it up, and tossed it at him, without looking to see if he would catch it. He fumbled, the jar coming close to connecting with the nice, hard-wood floors Angel had just had put in.

"Same for the horseradish. What, did Buffy make a sandwich with them?"

When Angel stayed silent, she emerged from the machine that had engulfed her. "She did, didn't she?" Cordelia plucked the jars from Angel's arms, and tossed them in the trash. He made a sound like a protest, but it was silenced by Cordelia'a next words. "They weren't even open. How'd she use them?"

"Remember the time I had the Oracles turn back time? Angel asked.

"Oohh." Cordelia stretched out the word, paused for a second, then continued to root through Angel's fridge, ignoring his pointed look.

"And you think you could clean the dishes every now and then. The blood congealed."

Angel leaned over Cordelia to see in the fridge, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

"It looks like Jell-O." She continued distastefully.

"Cordelia." Angel said. "It is Jell-O."

She gave him a look over her shoulder that said, 'you don't eat Jell-o, you better explain this now.'

"Wesley made it yesterday, saying something about needing something jiggly. I told him to go find 'Ms. Bryce.'"

"Funny. You might be getting a sense of humor in your old age."

"Thanks."

"No prob. Hey, BTW, I was wondering how you like the new filing system I made."

"New filing system?"

"Yeah, I file everything under.. head pain." The last word was strained.

"Oh, like because of your visions." Angel nodded. "I get it. Don't like it, but get it."

"No, head. In pain. Ow." Cordelia gasped out, and then Angel got the clue and jumped over the desk to hold her against the spasms the vision created.

Cordelia shook with a vision that was so powerful, only the demon-mark induced ones had it beat.

She managed to get some words out before she blacked out because of the pain. "Demons, earthquake, blond-" Out cold.

----

Sunnydale, CA
Same Time

"Well, I hope you two have a good time." Buffy said, hands in her pockets.

"We will." Willow and Tara chimed in together, picking up their suitcases.

"I'm jealous." Buffy said, as she followed them out to the cab, ready to take the two witches to the airport. "I want to go to Flordia."

"Well, if you want parents who suddenly just awakened to their daughter's life, and wanted to invite her and her girlfriend to a family vacation, and then fly off to Europe to take out the family part, go right ahead." Willow said with a cheerful tone, sliding her suitcase into the trunk of the cab.

"Yeah." Tara added, just needing to say something after Willow's big speech.

"You sure you don't need us?" Willow asked one more time, after Tara had gotten in the cab, and she herself was readying to get in.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You two go have a blast." Willow got in the cab, and rolled down the window so she could still say good-bye to Buffy.

"And don't do anything I wouldn't do." Buffy added with a smile.

"That doesn't leave much does it?" Willow grinned at her best friend of almost five years, then signaled to the driver to leave, Buffy left exclaiming an admonishing "Willow!" to the departing cab.

Then she put her sunglasses on her face, and started off to the Magic Box.

----

Inside the Magic Box, Giles was on the phone when Buffy walked in. She tossed her bag on the designated research table, listening to his end of the conversation.

"Yes, yes, of course. One of us will head there immedately.... Yes, I understand why you couldn't possibly make the trip. You have a life there..... Of course she won't go alone. I'm not that daft, man... Alright, yes, yes... Good-bye, Angel."

"Angel?" Buffy questioned as soon as Giles hung up. She and the dark-haired vampire had been on easy terms ever since Riley left. Not quite friendly, chatty buddies, but enough that a mention of the other's name didn't cut like a very dull knife, drawing lots of blood.

"Yes, apparently, Cordelia had a vision. A really painful one, she only just woke up." At Buffy's concerned look, he hurried it up. "She's alright now, only a bit of a headache, like usual. The important thing is the vision. It's demons and vampires, working together to create an earthquake."

"Not like we haven't had enough of those these past couple years." Buffy commented sarcasticly.

"Precisely. But, this isn't happening in California." Giles said, pushing his glasses onto his face. "It's happening in Louisana. New Orleans, to be precise."

"Mardi Gras Central. Double party time."

"Buffy, Mardi Gras isn't until- Nevermind. The important thing is that we get somebody down there to stop them before the earthquake occurs. And, since Angel is busy with his life in LA,-"

"That leaves the Slayer to go down and party in the South. Yay!" Buffy did a little cheer.

"But you can't go alone." Gies said.

"So, we'll go together. Father-daughter, Watcher-Slayer type deal."

"As appealing as that idea is, I've got other plans. I'm leaving for England in two days time. Nobody will have to be here to run the store for me, as I'm closing it for the week and a half that I will be gone. Otherwise I would love to go."

"So, who's gonna come with me?" Buffy pouted.

----

Buffy pouted as she walked the cemetary. It just wasn't fair. Willow and Tara had long been gone when Angel called, Giles was off to England, Anya wouldn't let Xander go to New Orleans, because of the vampires there, something about the books being true, Buffy hadn't paid any attention, except for the fact that meant Xander or Anya couldn't go.

And that left only choice, seeing as she couldn't take any of Angel's crew away.

Spike.

The peroxide bane of her existance. In order to go save the world, she had to take Spike along.

Alright, to be honest, it wouldn't be that bad. The blond vampire had become more tolerable in the past year. Buffy hadn't questioned it, but hadn't ignored it, so when the blond vampire offered to help, she wasn't one for turning it down.

Plus, her mom wasn't letting her go if someone didn't go with her. And her mom wasn't going because she didn't want Dawn going.

So, Spike.

Oh, joy. Buffy thought, at the task of asking him to accopany her to New Orleans. Hopefully she wouldn't have to beg. Begging was very horrific.

"Spike." She said, as she walked into his crypt. He was sitting there, watching TV.

"Slayer." He said to her, not looking up.

"I need you to go with me to New Orleans." She said.

"Alright." He said, without taking his eyes off the TV.

And that was that.

______________

Part 2

New Orleans, LA
One Week Later

"Spike, quit whining." Buffy sighed.

"But, I don't want to go to that cafe." He protested. He had very good reasons for his protesting, he just didn't feel like telling the Slayer his reasoning.

"Why?" She asked, stopping her running around the suite, and stared at him, hands on her hips.

He sniffed. "I just don't."

"Not good enough." She told him, then began bustling around again.

"Well, fine." He said, stood up, and started slamming things around. Then he whirled on her. "How come you get to choose where we go, anyway?"

"Because I'm the Slayer, and I'm the one holding a pointy, wooden stick."

"You can't kill me." Spike taunted her.

"Why not? Because I need a chaperone for this little trip? I'll just tell them you got caught in the crossfire. 'Poor, whittle Spikey, got staked in the midst of battle. Oh, we'll mourn him.'" Buffy grinned at him triumphantly, albeit a little meanly.

"Shut up." Spike muttered at her, already heading out the door.

Buffy grinned after him for a few seconds, then grabbed her purse, and ran after him, pulling the door shut behind her.

They had been in New Orleans for almost a week, having taken no time for Buffy to pack, and they were in the air a day and a half after Spike agreed to come. They flew in, landed after sundown, and decided it looked better to share a room. Angel had funded the trip, and all expenses because of it, because he couldn't make the trip, so they got a nice suite in his honor. Besides, he could afford it.

They were heading for a nice little cafe Buffy had noticed on their patrol the previous night. She said she felt like enjoying the culture of the old French city, since she had never been this far East before. Spike rolled his eyes and told her if she wanted culture, she should go to England. Buffy had scowled back at him, but stood firm in her decision to go to that nice cafe, never really bothering to find out the reason for Spike's protests.

Spike had already made his way to the street outside the hotel when she caught up with him, matching his pace. They were headed in the direction of the cafe.

They didn't talk the entire way over there, Spike sulking about having to go with Buffy, and Buffy wondering what crawled up his ass and died.

Almost there, they were attacked by three fledges, that were quickly dispatched and glared at by Buffy, who hadn't wanted to fight before she ate dinner.

As they settled into the cafe, neither noticed the blond haired man who followed them in.

----

New Orleans, LA
Two Weeks after Cordelia's Vision

"Slayer, is this necassary?" Spike asked her as they walked through the fifth cemetary that night. It was two weeks after Cordelia's vision, and they were hitting all of the more obscure cemetaries of the city. Spike had been jumpy all night, and all he wanted to do was go back to the hotel suite, and watch TV. He didn't want to be in the dirt, wandering around, listening for any demons talking. It was very boring and he had to be silent.

Plus, there had been this presense following them all night, that set Spike's nerves on edge. And Buffy seemed not to be sensing it, which made him wonder all the more.

"Is what necassary?" She asked, walking two steps ahead of him, looking around cautiously, for any plotting demons.

"This." He said, gesturing with his hands to the cemetary and themselves. "Do we need to be walking around, listening for clues, when we should just get on a plane, and fly back home. What do I care about an earthquake thousands of miles from where I live?"

"Spike." Buffy said very slowly, stalking towards him. "We are here to protect all the innocent who are going to die in the earthquake. That's why we are going through all the graveyards. That's why we are here, and that's why Angel is funding the trip. To save innocent people, Spike."

"Fine." He pouted and turned away from her. She threw her hands up in exsiperation, and stormed away from Spike, knowing that he'd catch up with her eventurly, or would meet her back in the hotel.

She got about halfway across the cemetary, when something swooped down in front of her. Or rather, someone.

He didn't speak, only study her, so she studied him right back. He was tallish, about the same height as Angel, with long blond hair, blowing in the sudden breeze. Paler than Spike, and dressed to the hilt, Buffy couldn't help but admire the handsome chuck of male flesh in front of her.

"Who are you?" She asked, when he made no move to speak.

"I am sorry, for not introducing myself." His voice held a touch of an old French accent. "I am the Vampire Lestat."

She paused for a second, looked him up and down, then let out a, "Nuh uh."

Lestat nodded his head gracefully at her, and she stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Nuh uh." She repeated, a little smile on her face, like she wanted to believe him, but it was just too far out to believe in.

"I am the Vampire Lestat."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

She stared at him a little longer, then shook her head, as if to clear it, than asked him, "Really?"

"Yes, I am." He repeated for her again.

"You know I met Dracula." She said conversationally. "He was a pretty neat vamp. Had the thrall thing going for him. Do you have that? I'm not up on my Lestat trivia."

"Dracula is not real. He is of a fiction book. How have you met him?" HE asked her, looking slightly confused.

"Sure, he is." She said. "I staked him myself."

"But stakes do not work on vampires."

"Sure they do."

"No, they do not."

"Yes, they do."

Lestat sighed, not used to dealing with young girls. Buffy sighed back, and tried to think of something to say. It was just surreal to meet Lestat. And this had to be the real thing, because he wasn't overweight or anything.

"I do not have time for such banter. I have merely questions to ask of you, such as how you fight as well as you do for a mortal. But, I do not have time for that now. Your companion is coming. I must leave." And with that, he vanished, leaving Buffy by herself, mouth open because he really could vanish just like that.

A few seconds later Spike came strolling up, a book in hand, and he was reading from it.

"Slayer, look what I found." He said. But Buffy never answered him, she was still staring off into space.

"Slayer?" Spike asked, trying to bring her attention to the present.

"Spike? Guess who I just met." She had an excited little grin on her face.

"Who?" He said, closing the book, wondering who the hell she could've met in an old French cemetary.

"Lestat."

He raised an eyebrow at her, otherwise carefully keeping his face neutral. "Lestat." He stated. "Like the vampire?"

"Yes, like the vampire." She said, as she took his arm, leading them both out of the cemetary the way they had come in.

"He was way cute. He didn't try to fight me or anything. He just wanted to ask me a question, I mean, isn't that insanely cool? Lestat wanted to ask me a question. He didn't want to kill me or anything. I can't wait to meet up with him again."

Spike stayed silent while Buffy rattled on about the infamous vampire she had just met.

They walked behind a mausoleom, and therefore out of sight of Lestat, who was resting on the top of another, shorter mausoleom, watching Buffy and Spike talk.

"I don't want to kill you yet, my sweet blonde beauty, but soon, very soon, you will know my true intent." Then he took to the air, heading back to the decaying building he called home.

____________

Part 3

New Orleans, LA
The Next Day

"What are you doing?" Spike asked Buffy the next day.

Buffy looked up guitily, hiding the cover of the book she was reading.

Spike noticed the movement, and reached over to pull the book from her hand.

"The Vampire Lestat." He read aloud. He gave her a look, and tossed the book back at her. "What you really should be reading is that book I found in the cemetary last night. Calling Rupert, or something like that. It's a might bit important, from what I read last night."

"I've already called Giles, but there's not much he can do with the book being here, and him being in England. And I can't read it. Come to think of it, you can read that language. Why don't you read it? Try to come up with something important." She opened her book again with a huff, and picked up where she left off.

Buffy and Spike had been at each other's necks the entire day, Spike not able to leave because of the sunlight, and Buffy wanting to stay in until nightfall, secretly wishing to run into Lestat again.

Spike scowled at Buffy, and dropped his body into a chair, turning on the television to watch Passions.

Buffy had told Spike everything about her encounter with the brat Prince. Spike had been strangely silent, not commenting on her adventure. On the way back to the hotel was when she picked up the copy of The Vampire Lestat, determined to re-learn everything about Lestat.

Despite her calm body position, she wanted to be jumping around the room. She had met Lestat! It felt like she was on a high. But she didn't want Spike to know. He would probably make fun of her, because he had met the famous vamps of the past, and would think it funny to see the great Slayer jumping around the room like a little kid. So, she kept her excitement inside.

For now.

----

That night, Buffy could hardly keep to walking. She was eager to meet with Lestat again, to have him ask her questions. Then a sobering thought came over her.

When would she kill him? She just couldn't let him go free. She would have to destroy him, just like how she staked the Drac. She wasn't looking forward to that.

As she and Spike sat down, for her to order dinner, and him to order the most disgusting thing possible to gross her and the waitress out, Buffy was looking around, seeing if Lestat was there. Hey, it was possible.

It wasn't until their food arrived, Spike's smelling particularly worse than usual, that the blond vampire came into the restarant. With a dark-skinned companion.

Lestat sat down next to Buffy, while his companion sat down next to Spike. Buffy openly oogled the two new vampires to her and Spike's table, while Spike kept his head down, and played with his food.

"Hello, mon cherie." Lestat said, taking Buffy's hand and placing his lips upon it, before letting it go, and resting his hand on the table. He hadn't cast a second glance at Spike.

"Let us get accquainted before I ask you my questions. And before you, undoubtly, ask yours. But first," Lestat's hand went up in the air, "A drink. Coffee, my dear fellow," Lestat said to the waiter, "And a Scotch on the rocks for my companion." Lestat sent a smile down at his companion.

"Thank you, Lestat." A crisp British accent said the words, catching Spike's attention, but he still kept his head down, just noddin slightly to himself.

"Now, my dear Buffy, I didn't want to encrouch on your mind anymore than to learn your name, so we can have the pleasure of talking." He gave her a little smile, at the amazed expression on her face.

"And you, this blonde beauty's companion." Lestat was finally addressin Spike. "I can't read your mind at all. Are you a powerful pyshic?"

"No." Spike said, his British accent sharp, and unforgiving. "No, Lestat," He said, bringing up his gaze to meet Lestat's. "I am not a powerful pyshic."

Buffy was slightly amazed to see such an expression of shock cross Lestat's features, leaving him open and childlike.

"William?" Came his voice, like a breathy whisper, not enough for human ears to hear. But all the supernatural creatures at the table heard it.

"Yeah." Spike's face was as hard as his voice, showing no mercy.

"How did... how are you still alive, and looking like you did last time I saw you? It's been over 80 years." Lestat's voice hadn't rasied any in loudness, still barely audible.

"I'm immortal in my own right. You don't have the patent." Spike said, his words vicous, and filled with hidden meaning that Buffy didn't get or acknowledge.

Lestat just sat there, staring at Spike in amazement. not worried about how this was detremental to his brat Prince reputation.

Spike's eyes never left Lestat's, and he suddenly shoved himself away from the table. "I'm leaving. I'll meet you back at the hotel later, Buffy." He stormed away from the table, leaving Lestat in shock, and Buffy scowling at Spike's rudeness.

"What's up with him?" Buffy posed her question to Lestat, but he was already deep in conversation with his companion.

"Is it possible, David? Is there another type of immortal out there? Is that really William?"

"Lestat, I cannot say that I've heard you mention a William before." David said, nodding thanks to the waitor, you had finally brought his and Lestat's drinks. (Not like they are going to drink them.)

"Oh, yes." Lestat said, half-talking to himself. "I promised William I'd never mention him to anyone, because it was our special thing. For us only." Lestat shook his head, bringing himself out of his impromtu walk down memory lane. "But how is it possible for him to be alive? He should be a very old man by now."

Before David could respond to Lestat, Buffy spoke up. "You don't know? Spike's a vampire."

"Not possible." Lestat said. "I would be able to read his mind if he were one."

"His mind is like his reflection. You can't see the reflection, can't read his mind. Some weird thing. I wasn't listening when Angel was talking about it." Buffy shrugged to herself, and took a couple bites of her food.

Lestat and David exchanged glances, telepathy not necassary to tell each others thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Lestat said slowly.

"What?" Buffy said, choking a little over her food, then making sure nothing was on her face. "You mean, 'Why is Spike a vampire?' I'm pretty sure it has to do with the exchange of blood he and Angel did."

Lestat looked real hard at Buffy, who had continued eating. "You're saying William is a vampire." He said.

She nodded. "But he goes by Spike now. Something about railroads."

"Oh."

Lestat turned to David, a slightly confused expression on his face. "Explain, please." He said in an almost whimper.

Lestat never loses control like this. He knows everythig in his environment. But, the sudden reappearence of William, and this confusingly strong and violent blonde girl had thrown his life in a tailspin. He didn't like it in the least.

"Well, Lestat," David said, hoping to placate his obviously distressed sire. "It seems that we are not the only type of vampire out there. I vaguely remember something about another type of vampire when I worked in the Talmasca, but all that I remember is that they are killed by the Slayer."

Buffy nodded enthusasitly at this, but neither vampire noticed her. She had her mouth full, so she couldn't speak cohernetly

"I do know a lot about this Slayer, though. A section of the Talmasca was devoted to her, although they did not keep themselves in close contact. They call themselves the Watcher's Council."

"Me!" Buffy said, finally swallowing her food. "I'm the Slayer." She said, pointing to herself.

"Are you?" David asked. "I always thought that she'd be taller." Buffy scowled at him, and he shrunk away from her gaze.

"The Slayer?" Lestat asked, still hopelessly lost.

"Yup." Buffy said, "That's me. The Chosen One. She who hangs out a lot in cemetaries.

"You still need clarification." Buffy sighed, at Lestat's still lost expression. "I'm the one girl in my generation who was chosen to fight the forces of darkness. I kill demons, and vampires, and other nasties, and I guard the Hellmouth.

"Unconfused yet?" She asked him, taking another bite of her food.

Lestat wrapped his hands around his coffee, and inhaled deeply, calming himself with the rich aroma.

"So, you're the Slayer?" David asked. "I never thought I would meet one."

"Well, now you have." Buffy said. "So, you really are those vamps Anne Rice writes about? That's just weird."

"Anne Rice is merely the form we use to publish our books. She is an innocent bystander." David said formally.

"And she gets all the fame." Buffy noted.

"Yes, well, she also gets that." David relented.

"Is that why you put a piece of wood in that person's heart, and he exploded into dust?" Lestat asked, not having paid attention to Buffy and David's conversation.

"Yes, Lestat." Buffy said slowly, as if speaking to a five year old child, instead of an older-than-Angel vampire.

"That was a vam-pire." She pronouced the word in syllaybles.

She turned back to David.

"If you know so much about the Slayer, do you think you could help me? I'm here to stop a bunch of demons and vampires from causing an earthquake." She looked at David inquistivly.

"Well, I can't say I know anything off the top of my head, but I'll look into it. I know some places you might not have checked." David said, sniffing his Scotch, wishing despretely her could drink it.

"Thanks." Buffy said. She cast another look at Lestat. "Is he going to be okay?" She pointed her finger at Lestat next to her, who looked like he was in some kind of shock from information overload. It was really kinda funny.

"He'll be fine. At least he's still sitting upright." David set his drink down, and waved his hand in front of Lestat's eyes.

"Yes, he'll be fine."

__________

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