Next In Line

Author: Fyre
Rating: NC-17 (just in case)
Summary: Buffy's dead and the new Slayer has been called.
Spoilers: S5, but nothing specific.
Improv: jade/memento/hidden/possession
Notes: I got to thinking about Slayers - supposedly, they're trained from childhood (ie, like Kendra), so technically, there is something about them *then* that makes them different. I wanted to use that idea, plus I wanted to attempt my first proper original character, which I hope hasn't gone and done a Mary Sue. It takes a while to get to the end, but hell, I liked writing it. Then again, I'm a sick and twisted puppy :) Also - //signifies the Slayer's flashback. NOT stuff being said to other characters etc//
Dedication: To Kirsty for putting up with my inane ramblings ;)

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Ashes to ashes.

The sun rose over the deserted cemetery, the sun lengthening the fingers of shadow, a grave patched with flowers, the marble of the lichen-free headstone still gleaming in its newness.

The sole figure at the graveside leaned forward, brushed his fingers over the raised lettering, silent tears coursing down his cheeks.

The day he had lived in fear of for so long had finally arrived, the nightmare had happened and the child that he had considered more of a daughter than a trainee was gone.

This was his time to mourn, here, at her graveside.

Her friends, his other children, lives more than important than his own: They depended on him, depended on his being strong, being there for them to turn to in their grief and fear, being Giles.

Only when they were gone, he allowed himself to weep.

The morning dew soaked through the rough denim of his jeans, the bitter-sweet morning breeze rustling the grass softly.

She was gone.

And now, there had already been another called. The Council had contacted him in the hours after her death, ordering him to be the guardian of the new Slayer, as he had done such a long-term job the first time.

He had told them to piss off.

When they called again, the late in the next day, more polite this time, he had reluctantly acquiesced, asked who she was and had only received polite silence in response.

It hurt, knowing that after all his years with Buffy, she would still be replaced as quickly as the others had been, brushed aside as no longer significant, left to rot with only the memories of her name lingering in the records.

Pressing his fingertip to his lips, he touched the chilly stone with a sigh, rose and brushed his hands down his jeans, sweeping tufts of grass and powdery dirt from the material with a careless motion.

In the distance, the sounds of a sleepy town waking reached him, unaware of the dangers that perpetually barraged it.

With one last look down at the stone, he walked back to his waiting car and slid behind the driver's seat. Resting his arms on the wheel, his gaze swept to the horizon, watching for nothing in particular, heart hoping that maybe, just maybe, she'll appear, walk to him, smiling and telling him he was being paranoid.

But she doesn't.

He sighed again, groped for his handkerchief and scrubbed at his face, pushing his glasses to brow level, rubbed angrily at his stinging eyes and cleared his throat roughly.

Returning his attention to the clock, he reached for the keys, knowing he has to be home to get the children ready, to take care of them, to watch over them now that their guardian has gone.

And maybe, he pondered, he would tell them that the new guardian was on her way, to replace the one they had loved and lost.

Then maybe, they would feel as angry and betrayed as he did.

Dust to dust.

***

Arm stretched along the back of the couch, her head lolling back, Willow opened red-rimmed eyes to see a small figure watching her, lip drooping, dark hair, dark eyes, dark shadow of loss.

"Dawnie..." She held out one hand, the girl near flying to her, burying her face in the maternal warmth of the red head's shoulder, clinging to her, sobbing as if her heart would never heal. "I know, I know..."

Shaking with her tears, the young girl stared hopelessly up at the red-haired Witch. "They're all leaving me." She whispered, her voice strained. "First mom left and now, Buffy's gone too."

"Sh, sh..." Pressing a gentle kiss to the younger girl's forehead, Willow rested her cheek against Dawn's dark hair, sighed softly. "We'll take care of you, Dawn, you know that, right?"

The brunette nodded, face still lowered. Her tears dropped on Willow's skirt, burning through the material.

Both looked up as they heard the front door opening, Xander and Anya quietly entering, exchanging small, sad smiles with the two girls on the couch. The former demon had clearly learned something from the days after Joyce's death, her blunt statements kept to herself.

"How are you doing, kiddo?" Xander opened his arms, let the slight girl bury herself in him. She was the younger sister he had never had, one he knew he had to look out for, take care of.

"I'm okay." She lied, arms around him.

Faked smiles were exchanged, the group making their way to the kitchen, the red head taking charge and preparing a breakfast for the other three, all the while wondering where their single `father' was.

****

They were sitting in the kitchen when he returned, when he decided it was time for them to know, time for him to tell them what was coming, who would be joining them as soon as they found her.

And that's what would be taking so long.

He was being sent another Slayer who had never been trained, who had never been raised by the Council or taught the traditions. She would have come into her powers and now, it was all up to the Council to find her.

God only knew how long that would take.

Settling on one of the stools, he accepted a cup of coffee from Xander and propped the spoon upright in it. "I think you might have made this a little too strong, Xander."

The young man nodded, gave his familiar, lop-sided grin. "You trusted me with the coffee. I give you the coffee the way I make it."

Laying the mug down, he attempted to stir the solidifying gunk, gave up. He lifted his head to find four youths staring at him, with the same expressions they had worn when he had been given the duty of walking out of the E.R. and telling them that their best friend and sister was dead.

"What's happened?" Willow's voice betrayed her unease. Clearly his poker face was no longer working as well as he thought it was.

He glanced at the rippling coffee, lifted his head. "They're sending the new Slayer here." He said, voice low, eyes downcast. "The Council want us to watch out for her until she learns the ropes..."

"The new Slayer?"

"I'm afraid so."

Anya's vow of silence shattered as she frowned, commented. "Isn't she only the Slayer because Buffy is dead?" Four teary glares were shot in her direction. "I just don't understand. Why would they make her come here, if Buffy is already dead?" She turned pleadingly to Giles. "Why do they want her here? Why don't they just bring Buffy back and everyone will be happy again?"

"They can't bring her back, An." Dawn answered bitterly, her blue eyes red from crying. "She's gone and they want to replace her. They want to forget about her and have another hero."

Giles lowered his eyes again. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but Dawn had said what he knew all of them were thinking: that Buffy was expendable, could be tossed aside.

"It's not the girl's fault." He looked up in surprise at Xander's voice. "This is how its been for years. Centuries. They can't just change their rules cos Buffy was the Super Slayer." The boy would never cease to surprise him, Giles decided at that moment. "The least we can do is try and give the next one as long a life as Buffy had."

Anya nodded in agreement. "I met some Slayers before I became human and they were all strange and sad and had no friends. We should try and be friends with the new one when she comes."

"So we can be upset again when she dies." Dawn's voice trembled.

Willow's reassuring arm was around the teenager's slim shoulders, hugging her in a way no one but the Witch and her mother did, stroking her hair soothingly, murmuring reassurances to her.

It was too late for them to change their minds now, though. Giles pressed his fingertips to his temples and exhaled slowly.

Sometimes, he longed for a simple life, but looking at these young people, the infants he had been bringing up for years, he knew that he would never change his lot in life.

It was too late for regrets now.

****

Drumming the tip of her pen on the counter, Anya raised bored eyes as the door of the Magick Shoppe cracked open, a scrawny figure slipping into the building quietly.

"Are you a customer?"

The figure spun warily around, face concealed by the shadows of a peak of a baseball cap. "Pardon me?"

"I said are you a customer?" Drawing up with a wide smile, she searched for the best way to deal with a deaf, weird person. "How may I help you?"

The arrival shook its head, twisted bony hands together nervously. "I'm not a customer." The voice sounded female, low, uncertain. The accent sounded like a combination of Spike's and Giles', but with something different in it too. "I...I was told to come here."

"Are you going to buy anything?" Growing exasperated, Anya folded her arms. The impudence of these youths, believing they could walk in somewhere and buy nothing, just for...

"I need you to help me."

"Will you pay..."

"If I have to." In light, swift steps, sneakered feet crossed the floor, the shadowed face lit as the figure raised her head. And it was definitely a her. She looked young. Maybe in her early teens. "I'm looking for an Englishman...I heard that I was meant to come to him for help..."

A light went on in the former demon's head. "You're her!" She blurted out excitedly. "You're the new Slayer."

"The what?"

Anya frowned. She didn't know who she was? "You're the Slayer...aren't you?"

"I don't know." The girl looked bewildered, exhausted and close to tears. "I don't know what's going on. Someone told me that some posh toffs were looking for me back home." She shook her head, shivered. "They told my mates that I had to find someone in here...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have come..."

Red-rimmed ebony eyes spilled over with tears, rolling down the gaunt cheeks, as the girl spun and started for the door.

"Well, I don't see..." The door swung inwards, both entrants stopping short at the girl before them. Her body seemed rigid with fear, which struck Giles as strange, considering she was in one of the safer places in Sunnydale. "Can-can I help you at all?"

Anya leaned over the counter. "It's her." She called unhelpfully, the girl throwing a fearful glance at the former demon, then at the older man who was gazing curiously down at her.

"Her?"

"You know." Anya gestured at her. "The new Slayer person. The one that the Council were looking for. She came here and she wasn't a customer."

Giles looked to the girl, brow wrinkling in confusion. She seemed to be backing away from him, slowly but surely, wide, dark eyes too large for her terrified, thin face. Surely this wasn't the girl the Council had found...

"I don't know what she's talking about." The words tumbled out in a nervous flurry. "I don't know what a Slayer is. I'm not a Slayer. I shouldn't be here, so if you don't mind..."

She ran for the door, slamming into Xander and knocking him clean through the window, the glass splintering around him as he fell. Both Anya and Xander shrieked, the girl froze and Giles groaned.

"Sorry." The girl peered apprehensively at the sprawling figure whose face and arms were currently riddled with lines of blood from the slivers of glass. He shot a glare at her, picked himself up and stumbled towards Anya.

"Would..." Looking down at the new arrival, Giles gave her as friendly a smile as he could muster. "Would you like to have a cup of tea? Perhaps we can talk and I can explain why you're here."

Warily, the girl nodded, arms crossed defensively over her chest, dark eyes shadowed by more than just her cap. "All right." She whispered.

***

Pouring a cup of steaming brew from the pot, Giles raised his eyes to the nervous girl opposite, her hands moving erraticly up and down her upper arms, as if trying to warm them, in spite of the blazing warmth of the sun that was streaming in the window.

"So you're from England, Sasha?"

Glancing up at him, she nodded, a small, polite and thoroughly insincere smile tilting her mouth up a fraction.

"My dad was from South Africa." She said quietly, the first time she had volunteered of any information. "My mum was English. I had just moved there, from Johannesburg." Her eyes misted, blinking back tears. "Mum said I had training I needed."

"Training?" She shrugged, sipped the tea, staring at the cooling milky-brown liquid absently. "Do your parents know that you came here?" Another shrug. "Sasha, I must know what happened. How you came to be here."

She raised empty, near-black eyes. "They died." No more than a whisper, it said everything and nothing. "A friend sent a message to come here. That I had to see you. So I came."

She returned her attention to the tea, clearly waiting the next barrage of questions that the Englishman had.

Giles again frowned. She was quiet, but Kendra had also been so, only speaking when spoken to. She seemed completely lacking in confidence, her body tensed, seeming to be waiting for the next danger, the next threat.

She was painfully thin, that much was visible by the way her `tight', turtle-necked shirt hung on her slender body. Her face was youthful, but her eyes carried age that should never be inflicted on the young.

She seemed to be around fourteen or fifteen. Her black curls were cropped close to her head, adding to her boyish appearance, her skin a deep goldern colour.

Combat trousers hung baggily around her legs which, Giles assumed, were as skinny as her upper body, her arms concealed by the long sleeves of her top, her feet encased in hefty boots.

The cap that she had been wearing had been carefully placed on the desk, along with her black bomber jacket.

Finally, she lifted her head, gazed at him impassively. "So, why am I here?"

"This may sound ridiculous," Giles reassumed his seat alongside her, repeated the friendly smile of moments before. "But in every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone can stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer." He paused, pushed his glasses up his nose. "I know it may sound unbelievable, but..."

"The girl out front. She said I was the Slayer." There was a tiny flicker in those dark eyes. "Was she right?"

"You don't think I'm barmy for talking about vampires and demons?" This was an unexpected plus.

She shook her head, a tiny tremor in her hands. "I've met some vampires." She said, her voice low. "I met them...before." She paused for a long moment, swirled her tea. "I...I killed them. I don't know how I did, but one minute they were there, then there was just...dust." Her eyes lifted, again the flicker of some emotion he couldn't identify. "Was that wrong?"

"No. No! Not at all" Reaching over, he squeezed her hand. She jolted, her tea spilling onto her jeans and the floor at the contact.

"Sorry!" She was on her feet in an instant, sponging at her jeans,then dropping to her knees to mop up the puddle on the floor. "I should be more careful. I'm never very careful and now, I've made a mess..."

Giles gently took the cup from her shaking had, preventing anymore spillage or breakages. "It's all right." He spoke quietly, firmly, reassuringly. "You've had quite a shock today, so I can understand that you'd be nervous."

She rubbed her palms together, nodded. "So...I'm the Slayer? Are you sure that's right?"

"I should call the Council and check." Giles moved the stack of crockery to the small sink against the wall, glanced over at the girl who had approached the window, was gazing out silently. "Is there anyone you would like to call? Friends? Family?"

She looked over at him, shook her head once. "No." A beat "Thank you."

He frowned, leaving her at the window to go to the phone in the front of the shop. He could here Xander yelping with every piece of glass Anya roughly pulled out of his skin.

"Stop whimpering. You would think I was hurting you."

"Honey, you are."

Chuckling, Giles walked passed them with the phone book. "No, I'm not. I'm being careful." She tugged a piece sharply, made her boyfriend yell. "See! I was careful. You're being a baby."

Pushing her hands away, Xander hastily slapped several more bandaids on his arms, stepped back and swung to face Giles. "So, how's our new Slayer?" The faint bitterness didn't go unnoticed.

"Understandably scared." Flicking through the lists of numbers, he raised green eyes to the boy. "You must remember that she's only a child, Xander. You were the one who said we should be friendly..."

Xander sighed. "I know...its just..." He shrugged helplessly. "Its only been a few weeks since Buffy..." He received a sympathetic nod from the Watcher, then returned reluctantly to his girlfriend's `tender' ministations.

"And the new one threw you through a window before she even said hello to you." Anya added, poking at one of the larger cuts. "I think that's a good reason not to like someone very much."

Xander yelled, Anya tutted. "Why me?" The brunette whimpered.

Giles chuckled softly, started dialling a familiar number. If this girl really was the new Slayer, it looked like things were going to be rather interesting for the time being.

****

"You'll be staying with us, if that's all right."

The girl nodded, looked out of the car window at the house. "I didn't have anywhere else planned." She said, voice quiet. Her rucksack sat on her knees, her arms wrapped around it.

Giles nodded, turned into the driveway of the Summers house and switched off the ignition. He looked towards the building. He had moved in after Joyce's death and now that Buffy was dead, they had a spare room.

The girl followed him to the door, saying nothing. Her rucksack was slung over one shoulder, head down.

"I ought to tell you that Dawn...she was the previous Slayer's younger sister."

"So she'll probably not like me, because I'm taking her sister's place?" Giles nodded reluctantly. "What happened to her sister?"

The Watcher paused, rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "She was killed by a powerful Goddess from another dimension. She sacrificed herself to save her sister and friend's lives."

"She sounds like a good friend."

He nodded, smiled faintly at the memory of the girl who had caused him so much trouble and left him so many happy memories to think about. "Yes." He replied. "She really was."

He opened the door, entered the house. The girl moved after him. So silent, he couldn't be certain she was more than a shadow. Dawn was sitting on the sofa, a book in her hands, the sounds of Willow and Tara moving around the kitchen reaching him.

"Dawn."

The girl looked over, looked beyond him, immediately getting to her feet when she saw the other girl. Laying her book down on the low coffee table, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Who's that?"

Gesturing the new Slayer forward, he laid his hand on her thin shoulder, paused when she flinched away. "This is Sasha De Rans." He said, looking from one young face to the other. "She is the-the new Slayer."

The young Summers girl nodded, looked the tawny-skinned Slayer up and down suspiciously. "And she's staying here?"

"For the time being, yes." He stepped back from the pair. "That will be all right, won't it, Dawn?"

Sullenly shrugging, the teen turned her attention back to the newcomer. "I guess I should welcome you."

"You don't have to." Sasha replied, eyes down, voice quiet.

"Right." Retrieving her book, Dawn nodded, stalked passed the other girl. "I won't then." Her feet pounded up the stairs and there was the sound of a door being slammed.

The two Wiccans came through from the kitchen. "Was that Dawn?" Willow enquired, drying her hands on a dishcloth. She paused, eyes settling on the girl who was standing silently alongside Giles. "Is this...?"

"This is Sasha." He sighed with relief as Tara leaned forward, offered a hand to the girl who, albeit hesitantly, shook it. "Sasha, this is Willow." The red head nodded politely. "And Tara."

"It..." Uneasily meeting the two girls eyes, she forced a small smile. "Its nice to meet you both..."

D-do you want something to eat?" Tara offered, side-stepping around Willow.

"I'd like that." Allowing herself to be led into the kitchen by the blonde of the two, Willow and Giles were left alone in the living room, watching the door quietly close behind the new Slayer.

The Englishman looked down at his companion. "So, what do you think? She made rather a bad impression on Xander..."

"Threw him through a window, right?"

Giles winced at the chill in her tone. "That's not precisely correct." He said softly, peering through to the kitchen, where Tara was looking for something for their guest to eat. "She ran into him and didn't realise how-how strong she really was. It just happened that he got pushed into the window."

"Oh." The red head paused. "Is Dawn okay?"

Giles shrugged, gestured towards the stairs. "I-I-I'm uncertain." He replied, still observing their newest Slayer through the doorway that led into the kitchen. "She seemed a little�awkward, when I told her who Sasha was."

"And you're surprised?" Willow started towards the stairs. "I'll go and check on her. Its going to take some time getting used to�having Buffy's replacement living right under her nose."

"I'm aware of that." Giles waved her up the stairs, then joined Tara and Sasha in the softly-lit kitchen, relieved to see that the young girl was actually eating.

She was thin. Unnaturally so. It wouldn't do to have a Slayer who was little more than bones and wiry muscles. She looked far too frail to be able to hit anything, let alone face all the horrors of the Hellmouth.

Dark eyes glanced up at him, emotionless. "Should I go out and do whatever it is that Slayer's do tonight?"

Now this was a surprise. "I thought you might like to get settled in tonight. You also must have some training before you go out and start slaying on a nightly basis. You have only just become a Slayer after all."

"I can fight. I killed a group of about twenty vampires the night that I got whatever these powers are." The Watcher blinked in astonishment. "Dad made sure I had learned self-defence anyway, since I was small."

He met Tara's surprised gaze, then frowned. "Do you want to go out tonight? Its not strictly necessary, unless you want to."

"I�" She seemed to pause, hesitate. "I'll stay in tonight, then."

Giles gave her a smile. Why, he wondered, watching her pick at the dish of food in front of her, am I always left with the odd Slayers?

***

A sprinkle of grey dusted lightly over the freshly-cropped grass. Sasha rolled to her feet and holstered her stake at her hip, eyes flitting warily around the rest of the silent graveyard, then she turned to her Watcher.

"Was that okay?" She asked warily, shifting lightly from one foot to the other. Her eyes seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, fingers clenching and unclenching, ready for action if it were needed.

"Well�er�yes." Giles nodded in approval. "He's dust and you're alive. I would say the evening has been somewhaaaaaaaa!"

Broken off as the Slayer tackled him to the ground, he blinked and sat up to see her wrestling some kind of demon. As if oblivious to his presence, she was matching the demon, blow for blow, snarl for snarl.

She was a good deal taller than the other Slayer's he had known, which was a benefit, but there was something in the way she fought�as if she were taking it personally every time a demon appeared.

Vampires in particular.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, what with her being the Slayer and all, but she never showed any reason or emotion for her issues with those particular dmeons, just fighting and killing them, sometimes quick, sometimes slow.

There was a bone-chilling crick, then the demon fell to the ground, impacting with a solid thump. Panting, Sasha bent over, hands on her knees, catching her breath. Her face was sheened with sweat, her shirt and pants torn.

"What was that thing?" She straightened up, still panting a little. One hand hesitantly stretched down to help the fallen Watcher to his feet.

Giles bent closer and frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Looks like an infant Fyarl demon." He said, briefly recalling a morning not too many years before, when he had seen a similar face reflected in his mirror.

"They dangerous?"

"They can be." He glanced over at her. Anyone would think she had been slaying for years, but her month and a half in Sunnydale attested that she was still just a beginner with a lot of pent-up aggression to dispense. "Perhaps we should go back to the house now." He suggested.

Dark eyes flitted to him. "You don't think I should do another sweep? I'm sure theres still some more out there�"

"I think you've done enough for one night, Sasha." No matter how tempting it was to demand why she wanted to fight so much, what she was hiding, he bit his tongue. "You need to get some rest before you go to school tomorrow."

The face she pulled mirrored that of every single one of the Scoobies at some point or other and he had to smile. "Great."

"Come on, young lady." He chuckled as she gathered her weapons and took her place alongside him. Side-by-side, they walked through the deserted streets, back to the house where they all still lived.

****

Picking up the ringing phone, Giles lifted it to his ear. "Summers residence?" He mumbled around the pen that was clenched between his teeth.

"Hallo, Rupes." Green eyes rolled, accompanied with a mental shake of an older English head. "What's up?"

Spitting the pen out, he wiped his chin. "Spike, I would say its good to hear from you, but I'd hate to lie like that." He heard the snort of laughter clearly and sighed. "Where did you disappear off to? I know that Dawn's been missing you frightfully."

"Well, I decided it was time for a bit of a break from Sunnyhell." The vampire's voice was evasive. Giles knew the demon had loved the Slayer in as much a way as a demon could love. He had disappeared two days after her death and no one had heard from him for the past three months.

"And you took this long to get in touch?" Feigning a reprove, Giles tutted. "Really, Spike, you don't call. You don't write. We almost started to worry about you."

Again, he heard the snort of laughter. "Listen, old man, I'm on my way back."

"Fan-bloody-tastic�"

Ignoring the other man's voice, the vampire continued. "I just stopped off in L.A., pissed Angel off and I should be back tonight. Just needed to check I still had a crypt to stay in and the world hasn't ended and swallowed my telly and blood-supply."

"Everything's pretty much the same here." Giles said, glancing towards the door as the Slayer and Dawn raced out, fighting over who got out of the door first. "But we do have a new member of the group, Sasha, the new Slayer."

There was a long silence.

"Spike?"

"I'm still here, mate." He heard a sigh. "Look, I'll come round tonight. Meet this Slayer chit, then I'll see what I want to do."

"Right." Shuffling some of his papers around, the Watcher nodded. "We'll see you back here. Bring your own blood." He heard the vampire chuckle. "I'm serious, Spike. I'm not giving a bloody transfusion again."

"You're so generous and wonderful, Ripper." The vampire's mocking tone drew a fond smile from the Watcher. "See ya later."

The phone cut off, leaving the Englishman sitting amongst the spread of papers and folders. Laying the receiver back in its cradle, he smothered a small smile at the memory of the vampire.

Maybe he had once been an evil, blood-sucking bastard, but no one had been more surprised than the Watcher, when the vampire indeed proved he had turned over a new leaf, almost being killed in his unsuccessful attempt to save Buffy from Glory.

Even when he could have arranged to kill them all, he didn't, preferring to have the company of the humans and friendship of the Super-Slayer, as he had insisted on calling her, to spending all his time lurking in the dark minus Drusilla.

And now, he was heading back to Sunnydale. Sasha had never been told about the intervention of two vampires in Buffy's personal life. It had seemed like a bit much to throw at the girl in her first months as Slayer.

But now, she was going to find out.

Giles couldn't help thinking it might be a bad idea, but it was too late for recriminations now and she had to find out, sooner or later.

****

Opening the front door, Dawn's face lit up in a dazzling grin. "Spike!"

The Watcher and Slayer, who were sitting at the table, looked up to see the brunette girl launch herself into the bleach blonde vampire's arms. "Whoa, easy, Niblet!" Swinging her up, he chuckled. "Nice to see you're as loopy as ever."

"Dawn..." Sasha was on her feet in an instant. "Get away from him." Her stake was clenched in a white-knuckled hand, her dark eyes fixed fearfully on the vampire. "He's one of the Scourge of Europe..."

Giles waved dismissively. "Don't worry about him." He looked up at the girl, frowned. She looked terrified. Completely terrified. He'd never seen her look so on patrol, or when fighting but now, when a harmless vampire had appeared... "He can't bite."

"Just rub it in, Watcher." The blonde grinned, his demon surfacing. He released Dawn and prowled towards the dark Slayer, a look of undisguised interest on his face. "So this is the new Slayer, then? Such a innocent little thing, isn't she?"

Sasha backed away, stake still clasped in her trembling hands. "Stay back." She tried not to sound afraid, Giles noticed, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her. "I'm the Slayer, you're a vampire...I should be killing you."

"But you're not." He was on her in an instant, the stake twisted out of her hand, her body pulled up against his. "See." His hands wrapped, vice-like, around her upper arms, a small smile creeping onto his lips. "And I know you like it." He lowered his voice, mouth a hair's breadth from her ear, and slowly ennunciated the words. "Little girl."

Wide, dark eyes stared up at him. "Giles...help me...please..."

"Ah, ah." Spike smirked reprovingly, lowering his face close to hers. "You're the Slayer. You should be able to deal with this." He brushed his face against her neck, felt her shudder against him, inhaled her Slayer scent. And something else. He frowned. "What have you been up to, little girl?"

"Please..." He could feel her fear, smell it and hear it in her voice. Lifting his head, he gazed down at her and was half-amused, half-surprised to see tears streaming down her face. "Let me go."

"Spike." Giles gestured for him to release the girl. The vampire acquiesed, stepped back from her. He shot an amused look at the Slayer, who had backed further away, had folded her arms over her chest and was staring at him like his victims used to. "Sasha, he can't bite you or fight you."

Pained dark eyes turned to the Watcher. "He doesn't have to be able to fight or bite to be able to harm somebody." She whispered, then fled from the room, her feet pounding on the stairs as she ran up to her room.

"O...K." Dawn peered up the stairs. "That was weird."

"Yeah." The vampire dropped down onto the couch next to the Watcher, pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "Giles, mate, you've certainly got yourself a prime basket case there." He paused, examined his cigarette. "A lot more to her than meets the eye, though."

The Watcher glanced at the vampire. The blonde gave a barely perceptible nod in Dawn's direction, then lifted his feet and dropped them on the coffee table.

"Dawn, perhaps you should go and see if Sasha's okay." He suggested, then reached over and pushed Spike's feet off the table. "And I would be obliged if you would keep your bloody feet off my books."

"Sorry, daddy." The blonde grinned, winked over at Dawn who giggled. "Go on, Squirt. Make sure I didn't make little Slayer piss her pants in fear."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "If you want me out of the way, why don't you just say it?" She demanded. Both men exchanged wry glances. "Okay, okay, I'm going."

They waited until they heard her feet on the stairs, then one of the bedroom doors closing. "I-I can't help feeling uneasy when you send the girls out of the room." The Watcher turned to face the vampire, laying his large textbooks down on the table.

The vampire exhaled a slow breath, ground out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe."Tell me, mate." He glanced towards the stairs. "How long has she been wearing that bloody choker around her neck?"

"I-I-I suppose since she arrived." The Watcher spread his hands in a shrug. "What of it?"

Blue eyes rose, met curious green. "Ever wondered what she keeps hidden underneath it?" Spike's voice was quiet, neutral, but implied more than was necessary. Giles' brow furrowed. "She has the scent of vampires on her and not just in a strictly Slayer capacity."

"She's been bitten?"

Evasively shrugging, Spike nodded. "That could be one way." He paused, ran his hand over his hair. "It gets worse though..." The other man raised a brow. "The scent...it was one of the Order of Aurelius."

"You mean the Scourge of Europe?"

He shook his head. "The Scourge were the four of us having a party." The blonde chuckled. "I thought you knew that there were more of us out there."

"So who would be the vampire who attacked her?"

Spike frowned, rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "Normally, each member of the order makes one or two favoured children. The Master had Darla and Sylvius. Darla had Angelus and Marcella. Angelus had Penn and Dru. Dru had me and a girl called Chastity. If each of the children had two children of their own, it could be anyone cos we managed to scatter all over the surface of the earth."

"But..."

"But," The vampire shook his head with a sigh. "I recognise the scent. One of my children that I made when we were still in England, before the busman's holiday. I don't know what possessed me. I was about seven, too young to make a decent childe. He was my biggest mistake, arrogant and refused to be dominated by anyone, even Angelus." He chuckled dryly. "I was so proud of that brat."

Giles exhaled a slow breath, massaged his temple with his finger and thumb. "You're telling me that my current Slayer had been attacked by one of your worst children? No wonder she was so afraid of you."

"She'd probably have reacted the same, if it had been Dru, Angelus or Darla." The blonde shrugged helplessly. "Our kids like to boast that they were sired by the Scourge of Europe. I'd bet that was how she knew who I was."

Sitting back, the Watcher sighed. "This is just bloody marvellous." The vampire arched a brow. "We finally get her to talk and interact with people again, then you show face and she runs away to hide."

"You want me to talk to her?"

"Well, let me think." Giles shot a glare at the demon. "You walk in, disarm her, sniff her neck and leer at her the first time you meet. Somehow, I don't think she's going to be very reassured if I let you give her a peptalk."

The vampire shrugged. "You never know, Rupes." He drawled, replacing his feet on the table lazily. "I might get her pissed enough to let her vent on whatever's got her knickers in a knot."

"You don't know this girl, Spike." The Watcher leaned forward and smacked the vampire's feet off the books again. "I've met four Slayers and none of them were anything like this one." He brushed some dried grass off the books. "And please keep your feet off the table."

Spike grinned. "Well, Rupes, old man, I can beat you. I've met six Slayers and I still say that I know what makes them tick, more than you do."

"You were fighting two of them and you killed two of the others." Giles got to his feet and moved to the bottle of scotch on the fireplace. "That hardly qualifies as knowing what makes them tick. I- I-I studied at the Watcher's academy. I understand Slayers."

"Ooh, look at Mister Defensive." The vampire chuckled. "Pour me a glass of that, while you're up, mate."

"I'm not defensive," Giles argued, sloshing some of the amber liquid into a glass. "And you're not getting any more of my scotch."

Spike shook his head. "You don't get it, Rupes. You say you've met four Slayers. Did you ever understand any of them? Could you ever guess what they were going to do? Don't tell me that Buff never surprised you."

Reluctantly nodding, Giles downed his drink, then poured another. "So, oh-all-knowing one, what do you suggest that I do?"

"Well..." The vampire grinned. "I do have an idea."

****

Knocking on the Slayer's door, Dawn shoved it open and walked into the room. "Giles told me to come up and check you were okay." She explained, closing the door behind her. "He thinks you're crazy."

"He could be right." Lying on her side on the bed, her back to the door, Sasha traced patterns on the covers with her fingertips, staring out of the window into the evening sky. She felt the matress shift as Dawn sat down beside her. "You think I'm nuts too."

The brunette shrugged. Although she still hated this new Slayer for replacing her sister, she liked having someone the same age as her in the house and someone aside from Giles to annoy. "Sanity is overrated."

"Only crazy people say that." The dark girl murmured, her voice low. She shifted onto her back and gazed up at Dawn. "That vampire...Spike...what's he like?"

"Um...apart from a cutie?" She blushed, almost drawing a small smile from the other girl. "He's okay. He got a chip in his head that stopped him hurting anything except other demons." She smiled sadly. "He helped Buffy a lot. He loved her, I think..."

"But he's a souless demon, isn't he?"

Dawn nodded. "But he's really nice most of the time. Although he tells me he's going to eat me every day." She gave the Slayer a reassuring smile. "What he did downstairs...its how a vampire should reacte to the Slayer. He's not normally that bad."

Sasha nodded, sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. "You don't mind if I find that hard to believe, do you?" She said, drumming her fingertips against her denim-clad calves. "I've met a few vampires who were the same..."

"They talked to you like Spike?" Sasha nodded. "Creepy. Maybe they were friends of his or something?"

"Maybe."

The door opened a fraction, Giles' head poking around. "Ah, there you both are." He entered the room. "Do you feel up to patrolling tonight, Sasha? Xander and Willow both phoned to say that th-they would accompany you."

The black-haired girl nodded, rolled off the bed and onto her feet. "I'll get some weapons together, then I'll meet them at Newark Cemetery in half an hour. That place is usually crawling with something or other."

"Very well."

****

"Tara...I'm afraid Willow's not here." He gestured the blonde into the house. "She-she went on patrol with Sasha and Xander."

The wiccan nodded. "I know." She reached into her bag, drew out a thick sheaf of papers. "Wi-Willow wanted me to bring all of this to you, when Sasha was out of the house." She handed the sheets to Giles. "She found it backlo-logged in the B-British newspaper archives."

"What is it?" Unfolding the papers, he looked from them to Tara.

"Just read them." She suggested quietly.

He nodded, took a seat in the living room and directed his attention to the front sheet of the paper, the headline printed there screaming out at him. "Family found massacred in deserted Chapel of All Saints".

"Bloody hell..." He traced his finger across the image of the family; a middle-aged white man, a smiling, pregnant black woman, three children. Two girls and a boy. All three were smiling happily at the camera, the middle of the three ominously familiar.

The picture was dated seven weeks before she arrived in Sunnydale, almost to the date that Buffy had died, and she couldn't have looked more different. Her eyes were practically aglow with joy and life, her hair long and braided, her body a more natural thiness than it still was now, even after a month and a half of Tara's home cooking and Xander's home-ordered junkfood.

Reading the article, he felt his stomach twist in horror. There was, however, no mention of Sasha having been present. According to the police, she was just another missing person, presumed deceased.

No doubt she knew what had happened to her family. That explained why she was so determined to be the Slayer, to fight the evil that had killed those she had loved. Maybe she had got there too late to save them. That would also explain a lot.

Maybe, if Spike's bizarre plan worked, they would find out a bit more about what had happened that led to her arrival in the United States.

****

With Willow and Xander scoping the far side of the cemetery, Sasha crept forward. So far, three newly-risen fledges had been disposed of and were currently fertilising the grassy mounds over the neighbouring graves.

She felt him creeping up before she saw him, spun, stake raised, to find the bleached blonde standing less than a foot away from her. His hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket, his lips rose in a smirk. "Well, well, if it isnt the runaway Slayer."

"Spike."

"So you know who I am." He took a lazy step towards her, his body inches from hers, eyes gazing down at her. Raising one hand, he brushed his thumb down her cheek, chuckling as she leapt back a step, almost tripping over a horizontal gravestone. "What's the matter, pet? I don't bite."

She backed away another step. He shrugged, moved towards her, maintaining just enough distance betwen them. Circling warily out of his reach, she flexed her fingers around the stake. "Don't touch me." She withdrew a cross from a strap across her back, gripping it lightly in her other hand.

"Didn't intend to, ducks." He inhaled a breath, grinned. "Just enjoying the smell. You stink of him, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her face paled, but she continued to circle, not letting him any closer.

"Sure you do." Gesturing to several inches higher than the top of his head, he frowned thoughtfully. "He was about yay-big. Last time I saw him, he had long, red hair. Brown eyes. Big lad." He flashed her a dirty look. "In more ways than one."

"Stop it."

He traced a line over his right cheek, from hairline to the corner of his lip. "A scar right here. The dirtiest grin you ever did see. He was bloody patient, wasn't he?"

The vampire was startled by the force of the punch from the petite girl. Sailing through the air, he smashed into the side of a mausoleum ten feet away. The stake in her hand had cut a deep furrow across his brow. He could smell the blood.

Struggling to his feet, he turned, only to be slammed against the wall, the girl's dark eyes blazing at him. "I told you to stop it."

Her voice was shaking, the stake in her hand pressed deep into the flesh of his chest. He didn't need to be told that an inch further would kill him instantly. "I was right about him, wasn't I, pet?" Grimacing as she twisted the stake, he raised one hand to touch her black choker. "He's the reason you wear this."

"What would you care?" The tears were welling in her eyes, some emotion at last. "You were just like him."

"Yes, I was." He wrapped a hand around her wrist, drew the stake out of his skin with a grunt of pain. "But I'm not anymore. We just want to know what he did. Maybe we can help you to deal with it."

She stared at him, then laughed emotionlessly. "Good grief. Counselling from one of the Scourge of Europe." The stake slid back into place. "Look, *mate*, there's nothing you can do to help me. Nothing anyone can do."

"Maybe it would help to talk to someone...the Watcher...one of the Witches...bloody hell, even the Niblet."

"Oh yeah. I can see them accepting me as a good fucking Slayer when I can't even save my own fucking family." One hand reached up, gestured at the choker. "I wear this as a memento, so I can't forget." She stared coldly at the vampire. "Every time I look in the mirror, I'm reminded I couldn't save them. Yeah, my family died, killed by things I was born to slay and didn't. Damn, I'm a good Slayer."

Spike said nothing.

Drawing back from him, she ran her fingers along the wide band of black silk that circled her neck. "He said you taught him everything he knew." She gave a bitter laugh, tucked her stake away. "I suppose I should applaud you for being an evil bastard."

"What happened to him?"

"Died." She took a step closer to the vampire, tore open his shirt with one hand and slapped the large silver cross against his white chest. Her eyes met his, daring him to scream as his flesh started to bubble, the smell of burning reaching their nostrils. "Poof."

Stepping away, she threw the cross at his feet, turned on heel and walked away, her angry demeanour only counteracted by the scent of her tears that carried back to the gasping vampire on the breeze.

****

Hastily sweeping the pile of papers under the cushions and snatching up a book to pretend to read, Giles looked up as the back door slammed with enough force to shatter the small windows, the wood splintering.

"How was pa..." The girl stalked passed him, straight up the stairs, not even looking in his direction. "Trol. Oh dear."

There was a second slam from her room, the thump of the bolt sliding home.

It was only a moment or two later that two bedraggled twenty year olds and a bleach-blonde vampire hurried into the house, each with some degree of concern etched on their features.

"I-I-I assume it didn't go as well as you planned." Green eyes questioningly met bluey-gold. A snarl made him recoil in his seat, the vampire opening the front of his jacket to reveal a mess of burned flesh in the shape of a crucifix. "Good Lord..."

Probing the bloody pit in the centre of his chest with his fingertips, the blonde hissed in pain. "I thought you said she was told not to harm me, Watcher." His eyes merged into solid gold, staring angrily at the Englishman.

"She was told not to kill you." Giles' voice was cool. He retrieved the papers from beneath his cushion. "Count yourself lucky that that was all that she did to you, after what your childe did to her family."

Carefully sitting on the couch, the blonde lifted the papers, started flicking through them, as Willow leaned over. "Was she all right when she got back?"

"Look at the backdoor." The Watcher took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

"What is it with that girl and breaking glass?" Xander whistled, shaking his head. He turned back to Giles. "I'm guessing you didn't try and stop her from storming wherever she was storming off to?"

"Do I look that stupid to you, Xander?"

"Well..."

"Actually, forget I asked." He gestured up the stairs with his glasses. "She went in that direction. Luckily, Dawn was in bed. Willow, perhaps you could...?"

Spike looked up from the papers. "I found out something that might help you." His voice was subdued, eyes downcast. "The choker...I know why she wears it." He poked one of the articles with a black-nailed finger. "She tried to save them. Its so she doesn't forget, she says." He lifted his eyes to them. "She was crying when she left the cemetery."

"I'll go and talk to her." Willow started for the stairs, leaving vampire, human and Watcher to read through what had happened that might have left the girl so shattered.

****

"Go away."

"It's not going to happen, Sasha."

A pause. "Please. I just want to be on my own."

Willow sighed, laid her forearm against the door, resting her head against it. "Look, Sasha, I only want to talk to you. Either you talk to me, or I stay and talk to you through the door all night. You can lie if you want, just talk to me."

She heard the bolts slide back, took a step back as the door opened a crack. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to know? I'm just another Slayer. I come, I kill vampires and before I hit twenty, I die. Why do you care what I'm thinking about?"

"You're not just a Slayer. You're a person too." Giving the girl a reassuring smile, the red head spread her hands. "I thought it might make you feel better if you had someone to talk to." The door started to close. Willow stopped it, hand spread on the wood. "It helps to talk about things. Trust me, I know."

Dark eyes gazed at her, enigmatic. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

"Nope." The red head grinned.

The tawny-skinned girl left the door, returned to the bed. The witch stepped in, pushed the door shut behind her. Turning, she looked the Slayer up and down, could see no visible signs of emotion in her face or posture.

Sitting with her back against the head of the bed, her feet flat on the covers, her legs bent upwards, Sasha's hands propped a small, scarlet teddy bear on her knees. Her thumbs moved in slow circles on its white belly fuzz. Her eyes seemed focused on the motion of her thumbs.

"What happened earlier?" Bony shoulders rose in a shrug. "Work with me here, you give me some kind of answers, I go away."

Dark eyes turned to her, devoid of expression. "Spike was a prick. I introduced him to the graces of the good Lord." Her gaze turned back to the teddy on her knee. "They didn't get on very well."

If there hadn't been such hollowness in the girl's voice, Willow would have laughed. But she didn't now. She moved to the side of the bed, sat down on the edge. "Spike said you were kinda...upset when you left."

"Spike's an arse." There was a tremor in her voice.

"But he was right, wasn't he?" Reaching up, she laid a hand on the girl's wrist. Sasha jerked her hand away, blinked fiercely. "Wasn't he?"

"What did he do? Smell it?" Pain-filled eyes stared at the Witch, angry. "So there's a problem if I get upset? I'm not allowed to get pissed because of some stupid vampire who thinks he has every right to peek at my neck? What happened to it being a bloody free world?"

"We just want to know what's upsetting you."

The girl swung off the bed, stalked to the window, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her right hand, her left clutching the little red bear to her. "Ever heard of there being a line? And ever heard of crossing it? My problems are mine."

"We just want to help, Sasha."

The girl's voice softened. "I know." She glanced over her shoulder, eyes damp with tears. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me." She turned back to the windows, stiffening her back. "I can deal."

Getting to her feet, Willow crossed the room, standing alongside the silent Slayer. Following the dark gaze out of the window, she glanced at her taller companion, was surprised to see her eyes half- closed, tears running down her cheek.

"I heard what happened to your family." Her voice low, she slowly lifted her arm and laid it around the girl's shoulders. Sasha shivered, looked away. "You can cry, you know." Her hand stroked the girl's shorn hair, pulled her gently down into a maternal embrace. "You can. I won't tell anyone, unless you want me to."

Sasha seemed to collapse against the petite Wiccan, her knees going out from beneath her. Willow sank to the floor with her, hugged the sobbing girl close, rocking her soothingly from side to side, her fingers stroking the girl's bowed head softly.

Shuddering with sobs, the Slayer clung to the red-haired Witch, all her pent-up grief pouring out, as Willow murmured reassuringly to the younger girl, her own eyes brimming with tears of sympathy for the young Slayer.

****

The kettle whistled. Swinging it over to the five mugs, Giles poured the boiling water into each, stirring the contents, but never taking his eyes off the Slayer who was sitting on the sofa alongside Willow and Tara.

She had decided it was time to tell someone what had happened, albeit only with Willow's gentle persuasion and idle threats from Spike. The Watcher honestly couldn't say which it was that had worked.

Carrying the tray of mugs through, he gave the girl a smile, handed her a steaming cup of tea, then settled in the one free seat. Xander was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table and Spike was lurking on the window seat, sipping a mug of blood.

Curling her fingers around the mug, Sasha feigned a tiny smile back, in spite of her jaded expression. "So," She began, her voice surprisingly strong. "What do you know about already?"

"Er..." Picking up a sheet of paper he had on the table, Giles nudged his glasses up his nose and read aloud. "A young boy was stabbed in the stomach and exsanguinated from the wound." She nodded once. "A teenage girl with severe internal damage was also exsanguinated." Another silent nod. "A woman, badly injured internally, died of a broken neck." Sasha swallowed hard, her thin hands tightening around her mug. "And a-a-a..."

"Cannibalised baby." Her voice was soft. "Baby Cassie. She was stillborn, but mum didn't know that." Downing a mouthful of scalding liquid, the Slayer leaned forward, deposited her cup on the table. "I'll start at the beginning...before I was a Slayer."

"Please do."

She pressed her eyes shut in memory, her voice neutral, calm. "We were driving through Norfolk, going to visit my uncle. The car broke down in the middle of nowhere and mum � she was very pregnant � was too tired to walk. We called for the AA, but they said it would take a few hours to reach us, so, since it was getting dark, we decided to wait in the car. I think we slept..."

// "They'll be here soon." Mum smiled back at the three sleepy children in the back seat, one of her hands squeezing dad's.

"I'm hungry." Josh muttered, his head resting on his eldest sister, Tamaya's, shoulder.

"Why am I not surprised." Dad laughed, reached into the glove compartent and withdrawing half a dozen chocolate bars and giving them to the three in the back seat. "Try and get some sleep while we're waiting."

"So you and mum can do the kissing?" Sasha suggested, giggling when Josh elbowed her in the ribs and pulled an 'Ick' face.

Mum laughed, reached over and kissed dad on the mouth. Dad grinned back at Sasha and Josh. "There's nothing nasty about kissing someone you care about." Dad leaned over between the seats and tapped Sasha firmly on the nose. "Don't you forget that."

"I won't." Nibbling on the chocolate bar, she was the last of the three to fall asleep.//

She paused, shivered. "I don't know what happened, but we were woken up by people banging on the windows, laughing. Dad got out to go and talk to them, to ask them to stop and one of them...vamped. Bit him. He was screaming and screaming. So were we, but there was nothing we could do."

// Dad's face was crushed against the glass, his fingers clawing at the window desperately. A gold-eyed leered over his shoulder, teeth sunk deep into the struggling man's neck, crimson splashing all over the window and the side of the car.

"Daddy!" Josh was struggling against his sisters, trying to help his father, when suddenly, dad's grey eyes rolled up, his attacker let him go and he fell, dropped out of sight, fingers streaking his blood down the window.

Mum was sobbing, shaking her head and slamming the locks on. The people outside started laughing, one with dad's blood on his mouth gazing in at them, his face changing, gold eyes turning brown. He pointed to the boy. Smiled.

One minute the doors were there. The next, all four had been ripped off and the shrieking Josh had been dragged from the car, kicking and fighting. Mum was pinioned by two male...things. Sasha and Tamaya were held by two women.

Dad lay in the dirt, blood still running from his throat, not moving. Josh was screaming, screaming loudly, until the lead one of the things plunged a dagger into his gut, pinning him down and drinking from his stomach as if it were a waterfountain.

"Josh!" Mum screamed, throwing herself forward, trying to help. One of her arms made a sickening cracking noise. She fell on her knees, Tamaya and Sasha both crying and crying, shouting for dad.

The big, red-haired creature on one knee beside Josh looked up, lifted his mouth, smeared with dad and Josh's blood. He grinned, a wide grin with a lot of teeth and a lot of promise that Hell was already here.

He rose, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then gestured for the others to finish Josh off, a dozen of them descending on the boy, one final shrill scream rising from his pale lips, before there was silence.//

"After dad, they drained Josh. Then they must have knocked us out." Sasha had wrapped her arms around a cushion, was working her nails against the material, eyes half-open, gazing at a knot of dark wood in the table. "We woke up in a church." She laughed harshly. "We thought it was over. You don't die in a church. We thought we might be safe there. We weren't."

// "Here's the thing, little ladies." The red-haired one squatted in front of them, forearms resting on his knees. "I used to love the hunt. My dad, Will, he was a classic artist. He showed me all the basic, hunt, kill, maim." He sighed. "He missed the best thing though. Psychological torture." He twisted his finger in a circular motion against his temple. He lowered his voice, murmured thickly. "That's what I'm going to do with you."

Mum hugged Tamaya and Sasha closer to her. "It won't work." She whispered, her voice sounding like she was about to start crying.

"Beg to differ." The man chuckled. "I've had a few years practise at this. It's been...er...my hobby. Yeah, thats a good word for it." He bent forward, forcefully tilted Tamaya's face up, then Sasha's, a small smile quirking his lips. The narrow scar that ran from above his ear down to the corner of his mouth wrinkled. "Well, well..."

Jerking Sasha to him, he rubbed his cheek up against hers, inhaled her scent. Sasha whimpered, wriggled until he dropped her.

"Now, this is interesting." Chocolate-coloured eyes looked her over, the sinister smile terrifying. "Very interesting indeed." One rough thumb brushed against her cheek. "Trust me, little girl, when I tell you that you'll be saved til last."

Mum pushed the man away, hugged Sasha tightly. "Leave her alone." She hissed. "You won't get away with this. People like you never do."

"We don't?" His face shifted to the nightmare they had seen biting dad, his grin widening revealing fangs instead of teeth. "Ma'am, I've been..." He air-quoted with his fingers. "'Getting away with this' for a hundred and twenty years."

With a supernatural speed, he grabbed her wrist, plunged his fangs through the skin, a scream breaking from her lips. He drew back, licking his canines with an evil leer.

"I'll give you some time alone." He dropped her wrist, got to his feet and brushed his jeans down. "You won't be able to escape, which," He feigned a sigh of sorrow. "Is really quite sad, because I do actually like you."

He stalked away, leaving the trio huddled together, locked in what must have once been a Nun's cell of a confessional or something. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and a psychotic creature wanting to torture them all.//

"We must have been there for days." She shrugged. "The cell didn't have any windows. We didn't have any way to keep track of time. We thought that maybe they had forgotten about us, but we weren't that lucky."

// All three were huddled together, half-asleep, when the door crashed inwards, three of the creatures running in, grabbing Tamaya and dragging her out before mum and Sasha even realised what was happening.

Then, the red-haired one was back, leaning against the doorframe, smiling. He looked more like a student than a crazy psycho, Sasha thought. Buzz cut, young-looking, a more naughty than frightening smile on his lips now.

"Wh-where's Tamaya?" Mum demanded, clutching Sasha's hand tightly.

Ignoring the question, Red smiled. "You know, I just realised I never got around to introducing myself to you. I know who you are, especially..." He let his eyes linger on Sasha's face. "This little girl. Funny, considering you don't even know. Won't now." He chuckled. "Anyway, I'm Chris, eldest childe of Spike, William the Bloody, owner of the tightest Buns in Britain. Also, youngest of the Scourge of Europe." He rubbed his nails against his shirt, preened. "How's that for pedigree?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mum edged closer to Sasha. "Just tell me what you've done with my baby. Please."

The thing, Chris, raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? You don't know what I'm talking about? You haven't heard of the Scourge?" Rolling his eyes, throwing his hands up, he groaned. "What do they teach kids in school these days?" Rubbing his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion, he sighed. "Oh well, no matter. You want your daughter? Follow me."//

"I thought seeing dad killed was bad enough, but Tamaya was worse." Silent tears were running down her face. "They...they had nailed her to the floor...to give the vampire better access without her fighting when he..." She inhaled shaking breath. "When he raped her."

// "Tamaya!"

The elder of the girls turned her head, eyes streaming with tears of agony. A steel railroad spike protruded from each wrist and ankle, spreading her limbs. Her blood was pooling around her, splashes of crimson pouring from her lips.

"You bastard! You son of a fucking bitch!" Mum tried to run to her daughter, was thrown back by the tall, red-haired demon. Two more creatures held mum back, as Chris laid both hands on the frozen Sasha's shoulders.

His hand brushed over her hair and she could sense his chilling smile. "We had to cut her tongue out." He remarked casually. "She wouldn't stop screaming. It gets a bit off-putting when your trying to talk and all you can hear is some brat screeching."

One hand moved down Sasha's body, jerked her against the front of his tight trousers, his fingers pressing cruelly at the fourteen year old's crotch. She stifled a whimper, tears welling in her eyes.

"You," He whispered, running his tongue up her neck, delighting in her shudder of disgust. "Are gonna love this."

Unable to escape, unable to look away, she and her mother were forced to watch as a young vampire mounted the terified Tamaya, raping her until she was bleeding from every possible part of her body.

Only then, when she had fallen into unconsciousness, did the demon drain her, leaving her dead on the floor.//

"Only one raped her." Lifting her chin, she stared at the ceiling, sniffed hard. "But she was bleeding. Bleeding so much...she couldn't scream, but she could stare. She stared at me, she stared and stared..." She let Willow gently hug her, resting her cheek against the red head's shoulder. "She stared even when she was dead. Then me and mum...we were put back in the cell for the night."

Giles leaned forward. "Do you want to stop just now?" He asked gently. Sasha shook her head, swallowed hard.

"I can finish telling this." She scrubbed her eyes with her fists. "If I don't finish tonight, I won't finish it. I told myself I could do this..."

The Watcher nodded. Tara squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly. Xander stared at a spot on the table, blinking fiercely. Spike lit his second cigarette and stared emotionlessly out at the deserted street.

"Okay..."Clearing her throat and shifting in her seat, Sasha continued, her voice still trembling slightly. "The next night, they left us alone. Except Chris. He came and stood at the door and taunted us. I don't know what he expected."

// "So, little girl." Eyes fixed on Sasha, he smirked. "What did you think of the show last night? I think my boy did an impressive job on your sister. Of course, my old man taught me how to use the spikes. Was how he got his name."

Mum cursed at the vampire, hugged her arms around her belly. Sasha buried her face in mum's shoulder, trying to ignore the red-haired monster's chilling, mocking gaze.

"You've taken apart half of our family." Mum growled. She was miserable, furious and seven months pregnant. Not a pleasant combination. "Why don't you just let us go?"

Chris sauntered across the room, crouched down and sat on his heels, gazing calmly at both of them. "You never told your little girl here about her destiny, did you?" Mum froze, stared at him fearfully. He tutted. "That was clumsy. Very clumsy." He lifted his hand, turning the girl's face to him. "Mind you, not as clumsy as being caught by a hungry group of vampires." He bent forward and pressed a light kiss to Sasha's lips. "She's delicious, mummy, dear. She'd make a wonderful addition..."

Mum's fist caught him right on the nose, her rings breaking the skin, the impact of the blow enough to knock him backwards. "You stay the Hell away from my daughter." Mum hugged Sasha to her.

Half-sprawled on the floor, Chris raised his hand up to his bleeding nose, grinned widely. "I like that. Spunky." Abruptly, he was standing over her, smashed his fist against her jaw. The crack was vivid, her head snapping around. "Don't get on my bad side, lady." He murmured. He turned his eyes back to Sasha. "As for you, little girl...wait and see what we have in store."//

"They took mum the night after that." She focused on a thread that was dangling down from the cushion, twisted it round her fingertip. "They didn't pin her down, but Chris let them do what they did to Tamaya...only, it was all of them. All except Chris." She shuddered. "He made me sit with him, made me watch."

She paused, twisted a scrap of a handkerchief in her hands. The others were silent, each uneasily glancing at another, for reassurance, to see if they were feeling as nauseous.

"She...she gave birth..." Swallowing hard, forcing herself to continue, the Slayer blinked back her tears. "The baby. It was as badly hurt as mum. Died right away. Mum thought it had survived. She couldn't tell anymore. The one that had killed Tamaya...he grabbed it, ripped it out her arms." A shudder of revulsion passed through her. "He ate it."

// "Kids these days." Chris' sardonic smirk made her skin crawl, his hand stroking her hair lazily, as if she were a large feline. She had been forcefully sat in his lap, his mouth unnervingly close to her bare neck. "Can't take them anywhere."

"Stop him." Sasha turned to him, pleading. "Leave her alone."

The red-haired vampire crooked a brow, chuckled. "I tell you what." He murmured, his thumb drawing her hair back from her neck, the nail scratching lightly down the tanned skin. "You give me a little nibble and I'll see what I can do."

Her mother's sobs and the evil grin on the feeding vampire's face made her nod, looking away. She felt his ridges against the surface of her neck, closed her eyes and grit her teeth, her hands balled in fists.

The pain was beyond anything she could imagine feeling. She was certain he was going to tear her head off, her neck throbbing agonisingly as he bit down harder and harder. Barely drinking, he pulled away, licked his lips.

"You..." Blinking dizzy spots away, she turned her face to his, her hand clasped to her neck. "You said you'd tell him...tell him to stop..."

Chris shook his head. "No. I said I'd see what I could do. There is one way to stop him eating your baby sister..." The smirk on his face made her wonder if she wouldn't just be easier letting him kill her. His mouth moved to her ear. "Let him taste you. Let us possess you, little girl."

"But you..."

His fist twisted into her hair, jerking her head back, her scalp burning. "No 'but', little girl." He murmured, pulling her hands away from her neck. "You can die now, slowly and painfully, or you can save your sister."

Bent backwards over the arm of his old-fashioned Church seat, she glanced sidelong to see the demon hurl the baby's body across the room an instant before she felt his fangs tear into her bared throat.

She couldn't hold in a scream. This was a different kind of bite. He was a young vampire. His cruel bite attested to it. Barely controlled. Agonising. Vicious.

"Now, now, my boy." Twisting his hand into his childe's silvery hair, Chris pulled the fledgeling's head back, kicked him away from the throne and bent to lave the open wounds clean with his tongue. "I know she tastes nice, but she's being saved for a special treat." He smiled coolly, cradling the barely-conscious Sasha against his chest. "So innocent, its delicious, really."

She managed to shift, to tilt her head enough to find her mother's face. In time to see eight vampires descend and drain her dry, the corpse of her miscarried child dropped carelessly on top of her when they were finished.//

"After that, we moved to another place, left the bodies in the church. The new place was scary, really dark and creepy. I don't know how long I was there, but I left with some souvenirs..." Shaking hands rose to her neck, undid the choker and, albeit hesitantly, lowered it from her throat. Laying it across her lap, she tilted her head up, revealing the length of her neck.

Tara and Willow gasped in unison. Giles leaned forward, took of his glasses, rubbed the lenses once and replaced them, hardly willing to believe his eyes. Xander looked away. It was only the voice of the vampire that broke the silence.

"Holy shit!" Pushing both wiccans off the couch, he knelt in front of the Slayer, tilted her chin up a little higher, staring at her neck. Blue eyes fixed at the layers of ridged scar tissue that ringed her throat, his blue eyes narrowed. "Is this all of it, Sash?"

She ducked her head, shaking it. Rolling her sleeves up, she bared her forearms, both of which were lined with bite-marks from wrist to elbow. Drawing up the waistband of her shirt, her stomach and ribs dotted with raised scars.

"There's more." She lowered her voice, drew her shirt back down. "A lot more, but I don't want to show them to you."

Rising on his knee, cupping her chin, Spike bent closer to her, examining one of the thickest ridges on her throat. "You won't kill me if I touch it?"

"Doesn't hurt anymore." She shrugged, winding the black choker tightly around her hand. Her eyes focused on the top of the blonde vampire's head as he frowned, rubbing his fingertips over the wide band. She flinched back as he growled.

"What is it?" Giles managed to ask, brushing aside the instinctive nausea.

Spike's eyes flitted to the Watcher, a dark, burnished gold. "My fucking idiot of a child let a fledgeling bite her." He growled, gesturing to her neck. "Then he kept her around for...shit!" He drew back from the Slayer with a look of horror. "Two months?"

"Something like that." She lifted her hand and drew his away slowly, didn't look at the gold eyes that were staring at her.

"And that's not normal vampire behaviour?" Willow enquired, looking from vampire to Watcher.

Giles shook his head. "Most certainly not."

"You find someone who tastes good, you keep her around for a week at most." Spike's voice was a rumbling growl. He seemed oblivious to Sasha's shivering, her thin hand turning blue as she tightened the choker around her fingertips. "They start to go bad after that." He shot a glance at the girl. "You must have tasted something special for them to keep you around."

"He said I was innocent." Halteringly speaking, the tugged the silk around her fingers with each sentence. "Said I had the taste of the one. Said I would be delicious when it happened. That I would be a super-demon when the time came."

The vampire visibly paled. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Kid, I'm so sorry." He turned to Giles, his eyes glowing gold. "He was going to turn her as soon as she came into her powers. He was keeping her weak until the last Slayer died and she was activated."

Her lips quirked up in the mockery of a smile. "It didn't work." She said, her voice devoid of expression. "He didn't manage to break me. No matter what he did, he never ever broke me."

"On the plus side," Xander tried to lighten the mood. "At least you didn't do a Buffy and screw one of them."

Sasha flinched as if she had been slapped. "No." She managed to force the words out. "I didn't." There was a series of cracks and she stared down at her hands, the fingers bound in the choker bent at odd angles. "Shit."

"Bloody hell!" Giles practically jumped over the table, dropping onto the couch next to the girl, unwinding the choker from her hand as gently as he could. "Willow, get some ice and a cloth or something."

"I'm sorry." The Slayer whispered, still staring at her hand dully. Cracked bones peeked through the skin, blood making her flesh sticky. "I'm sorry...it was an accident...I didn't think I had pulled it that tight..."

Giles squeezed her wrist lightly. "Don't worry." He soothed her. "What was it that we said that made you pull so tight?"

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, grimaced Giles took the icepack from Willow and pressed it to her broken fingers. Blood tainted the cloth a soft pink colour. "I just have some...bad memories..." She bowed her head, her tears splashing onto Giles' hand.

He hesitantly laid an arm around her shoulders, drawing him to her chest, hugging her gently, reassuringly. Her quiet sobs shook her body, stifled by the hand she had raised to cover her face.

Gesturing the others away, he rocked her gently, stroking her soft hair with one hand. It was only when they were all out of hearing range, that her muffled, tearful whisper reached his ears.

"I did."

"Pardon?"

"I did screw a vampire." Her fingers were tapping an erratic drumbeat on his knee, a tremor running through her body. "I didn't want to...they were so strong...I couldn't get away from them..."

// "When is that damned Slayer going to die?" Chris stood in the doorway, gazing down at her. Steel rings pinned her wrists to the wall, spread in a parody of a crucifixion. Her head lolled back against the damp stone.

Sasha said nothing. Not because she was being defiant, but because her mouth was dry as dust. Her tongue felt like a mossy-stone, her head spinning with dizziness. Blood was oozing from the top of her thigh, a deep bite mark stark against her greying skin.

She had no idea what Chris was talking about, just wishing he would finish her, finish what he had begun, instead of going on about what a fine demon she would make when the time came.

Why not now? Why not turn her when she could still move � albeit painfully � and be certified reasonably sane?

"She has lasted more than five years." One of the red-haired demons cohorts put in, from behind Chris. "Who's to say she couldn't last another five?"

Brown eyes gleamed gold. The cohorts head turned to dust in Chris' hands. He dusted his palms together, sighed in frustration. "You know." He murmured, squatting on his haunches in front of Sasha. "Its so difficult to find good help these days."

One hand ran up her thigh and she shivered. Her modesty had long since proved useless, her clothing hanging in tattered scraps on her body. She could see her ribs through her skin, beneath the myriad of bites in various stages of healing.

"He's right though." The vampire's cruel hand forced her limp legs apart, cool fingers brushing dangerously close to the filthy mat of curls at the base of her belly. "Maybe we could find ways to keep my boys entertained, until it...happens..."

His other hand lifted her chin up, her eyes staring beyond him. The vampire frowned, shook his head gravely.

"Now, little girl, look at me." Nothing. His hand snapped out in a sharp backhand, her head connecting with the wall. "I said look at me." Still nothing. He leaned closer, laid his mouth against her breast. "Look at me, or, by God, I'll show you the meaning of pain, little girl." When she didn't move, his face rippled into demonic form, fangs sinking into in the previously-unmarred tissue of her small breast.

For the first time in the weeks since the death of her family, a low, keening sob rose from her throat. Her drained and exhausted body leaked out twin tear drops that rolled down her cheeks,

Chris chuckled, tilted her head up. Near-black eyes met his. He smiled. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Painfully swallowing passed the none-existant lump in her throat, she stared at him, her dry tongue brushing over equally dry lips. "Kill me." She managed to sound the syllables, her lips beading with drops of blood. "Please."

"Hmm..." Folding his hands, his steepled index fingers tapping against his chin, the red-haired demon seemed to contemplate his answer carefully. Then he answered. "No. I don't think I will."

Tear-filled eyes stared at him. Her blood was smeared over her bruised lips, her body dirty and scarred with bites and from the blows she had received when attempting to fight his pack members.

"You see, little girl." He was pleased to notice that she flinched at his nickname for her and smiled that little bit wider. "You just lie here, doing nothing at all, when you could be so much more useful to our boys...they have needs...needs only a girl can fulfil..."

"I...I don't understand..."

Chris strightened up with a chilling grin. "You will, little girl." He murmured prowling out of the room and gesturing for the two guards to enter the small cell. Her screams of pain certified that she truly did understand.

She understood that she wanted to be dead, rather than to have to suffer the Hell she was going through now. //

Giles was still staring at her in horror, when she shook herself out of the regression to the past. She couldn't help it. The mention of what had happened less than six months previously brought the memories back in a sickening flood.

"How on earth did you survive all that?"

Now, she allowed herself a tight smile. "I don't know." She replied, her voice calm. "I cut my mind off from my body, until the day I guess it happened..."

"What happened?"

Toying with her broken fingers, shifting the bones back into place, she cast a sidelong glance at her Watcher. "Buffy died." She replied quietly.

// Her eyes staring beyond the stone gables of the ceiling, her wrists chaffed raw by her constant tugging at the manacles, Sasha felt Chris' hand gripping her jaw, trying to force her to look at him again.

"Little girl." She turned her eyes to him, empty. "I have a present for you. You might remember him from..." A thumb scrapped over the thick scar that was forming on her neck. "He wanted to play with you."

There was a flicker of emotion, despair and pain. "No..."

"Yes, Sasha." The young fledgeling's whose bite had marred her throat stepped into the room, dropping to his knees at his Sire's feet, his lips drawing back from his teeth in a familiar grin. "Daddy's here."

She shook her head, tried to struggle away. Chris' laughter vaguely registered beyond the sight of her father's possessed body creeping towards her, his trousers jerked down around his knees. "Please...no...daddy..."

His face shifted, familiar grey eyes turning gold and terrifying. He slammed his fanged mouth down on hers viciously, the blood spurting from her torn lips. "Remember what I told you, Sasha." He growled dangerously. "There's nothing nasty about kissing someone you care about."

She pressed her eyes shut, tried to ignore the pain as he thrust into her body. It was more than just the physical pain now. It was her own father. Her daddy. The man she had worshipped from childhood.

Chris' laughter faded. There was the sound of a door slamming, then all she could feel was the pain. The sensation of his body tearing hers, the feeling of his fangs ripping into her skin, of her blood trickling away.

His laughter was colder, crueller than she could remember it when he was alive. She tried to block the feelings, the emotions, the self- loathing at allowing herself to be put through this.

Until it happened.

She didn't feel any different, but the manacles that had held her motionless for so long creaked, wrinkled. Although her eyes were still tightly closed, she could sense her father, see him without having to look.

Balling her fists, she heard the inch-thick steel crumpling ((Great. Now, after every damn thing, I can be as strong as Superman)). The chips of stone and brick sprayed her face as she jerked her wrists forward.

The manacles broke free, her eyes popping open. He was staring at her in astonishment, eyes wide. "Now, Sasha, behave for daddy." He cautioned her, reaching for her wrists, his body still firmly lodged within hers.

"You're not my daddy." She hissed, a tight grimace on her lips as she smashed her fist against the jaw of the vampire who wore her father's face. Her right hook carried enough force to rip his head cleanly off his shoulders, his body collapsing into dust over and within her body.

Stifling a shriek of disgust, she brushed the dust off her body, stared towards the closed door anxiously. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed, so, maybe, she could escape before anyone realised what was going on. That she had become Wonder Woman.

Alternatively...

Her scabbed mouth rose in a chilling smile. After so long with them, she knew what they were. Snapping the legs off the chair that Chris often had occupied in the corner of the room, she gripped one in each hand.

Knocking on the inside of the door, she stepped behind it sqiftly as two of the doormen stepped in. One was dust instantly, the other stared at her in shock and fear. "What the fuck's goin' on?"

"I'm going to kill you." Sasha informed him coldly, delicately jabbing her stake in the chest region. As he blinked, then erupted in a cloud of dust, she looked at the three piles of dust. "I'm going to kill you all." //

"You received your strength?"

She shrugged, her finger toying with the cloth around her hand. "I broke the manacles and I walked out of the cell and killed every vampire that got in my way. I thought that I had just reached my pissed-off level, but when I fought them...it felt natural."

"Ho-how many did you fight?"

Another shrug. "There could have been twenty. Maybe more. Maybe less. Most of them were sleeping. I just stabbed `em in the chest cos thats what they do in the films and they turned to dust."

"And the leader?"

She stiffened momentarily. "He was one of the ones who was awake. He was surprised to see me. Pleased too. He didn't think I would be strong enough to fight him."

// "So, little girl, you finally got yourself activated, eh?"

"You love to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Dry words fell from dry lips.

Chris shrugged elegantly, rose to his feet in a fluid motion. "Well, now that you've finally decided to become what you were destined to be, its time for you to join our happy, little family."

"Don't think so."

He was on her in an instant, in her even faster. His cock slammed into her body, his demon surfacing, fangs plunging into her throat as he pistoned in and out of her slim body. Her arms snaked around him.

"Chris." She managed to whisper. He lifted his head, mouth dripping blood, stared at her, never ceasing his motion.

"What is it, little girl?"

The stake she had concealed in her sleeve slammed through his back and pierced his heart. His eyes widened in shocked disbelief a moment before he exploded. "Don't call me little girl." //

"And you defeated him?"

"Kicked his undead arse." A flicker of a smile twitched her mouth upwards. "I got out and ran, snuck on trains, on buses, on anything I could to get to my uncle. He looked after me until he heard the Council were looking for me." She fingered a silver bracelet on her wrist. "Then he gave me enough money to get here and back, in case it didn't work out."

Giles shook his head in silent disbelief. That was what she had been carrying around for so long? The murder of her family, her imprinsonment, her rape. So much strength for such a young girl.

"Do-do-do you want me to tell the others for you?" He asked hesitantly.

She nodded slowly. "I think it would be better." She said. "I'd probably just get upset again. I don't like doing that. Makes people uncomfortable." Rising to her feet, her uninjured hand cradling the other against her chest. "I think I'll go to bed now�if that's okay, Giles?"

"Yes, yes." Waving her to the stairs, he gave her a smile. Lifting his glasses off, he pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tiredly. At least they knew more about her now. That could only be a good thing.

****

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the bed that had belonged to the previous Slayer less than six months ago, Sasha carefully unbandaged her hand, turning it over beneath the light, checking for any badly-healed bones.

She had told them her story last night.

Maybe not everything. That was just too much. Too much hurt to let escape in one overwhelming rush.

But she felt better for it.

Better for not having to lock herself away and hiding her emotions. Now they knew the reasons why she didn't want them near, why she hadn't dared to get close. Maybe they would understand now.

It was if the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. And it felt pretty damn good.

Watching the skin rippling over the bones, she flexed her fingers. Reaching under the bed, she pulled out her rucksack, withdrawing a loose t-shirt, grateful that she could finally be rid of the long- sleeved tops she had been wearing.

Pulling it over her head, she glanced down at her bare arms. Bitemarks tracked her veins and pulsepoints, but she didn't give a flying fuck now. The scars were a memory of her past, of the things that made her what she was.

She was the Slayer. She had witnessed her family being murdered and she had suffered and been raped and inprisoned and tortured and other nasty things by a pack of crazed vampires, but she had survived and now�Now, she was going to do everything she wanted to and more. A wide grin lit up her face, her attention falling on a poster advert for the nearby paintball field.

Now, they were going to discover just how deadly a Slayer's aim could be. "Hey, Giles!" She called, running out into the hall, almost colliding with the sleepy figure of Dawn. "Oh, Giles, I've just had the best idea in the world�wanna hear?"

Things were certainly looking up.

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