Staking a vampire brings out this since of pride for me. I've been staking them since my 16th birthday when one of the blood-sucking bastards savagely killed both of my parents and my darling little sister. I had then hunted down and killed the group of vamps and have kept paying them back since then. Five years of killing with up to 300 separate vampires along with a lot of demons under my belt now there was a satisfying piece of work, at least that's what Giles says. It's sort of amusing that while I was paying them back for the lives of my family this job also enslaved my life so that I spent most of my time a night tracking them.
I don't think I've had an actual date in months let alone had sex. Come to think about it I'm basically a virgin when it comes to women of any sort. I suppose that's why Xander wants me to take care of his cousin, Buffy. She's supposed to be a real nutcase, a pretty one, but still a nutcase according to Xand. He says that she's tried to slit her wrists about twenty times and still hasn't died from the blood loss. The doctors think she has like this special body type and want to study her; her parents meanwhile ship her off to Xander who gives her to me because Anya, his extremely possessive ex-demon girlfriend thinks he'll have sex with her. Right, I'm so sure! Xander is so completely whipped that it's pathetic. Very sad, but very, very true.

One week earlier

Listening closely I heard the stomping footsteps that I knew belonged to my best friend Xander Harris. Xander is so clumsy that even when he's trying to be quiet and sneaky and be all "cryptic guy", he ends up sounding like a heard of elephants. "Cryptic guy" is Willow, my other best friend Oz's new girlfriend (quirky girl I must say) nickname; she says it suits me because I can be completely and confusing when you first meet me. Supposedly I can stand in the corner of a room and no one would notice me or I can say something perfectly rational to someone and they have no clue what I'm saying 'cause I say it without disclosing all details. Right.
Anyway as I turn to Xander I notice that he has this sort of annoyingly evil smile on his face like he knows he's about to hand me something I cannot get out of. Oh god I am dead.
"Angel my man you know how I've helped you with all those big nasties, like say the Master and oh I don' know your identical demon twin Angelus."
"Ya, I think I vaguely remember these happenings." I mutter without looking at him.
"Good 'cause now it's time to repay all of those little favors and deal me one. Because you have that huge apartment and I have my tiny little basement and an overly possessive girlfriend, you are going to take care of my cousin Buffy. For five months." As he says this I swear to god if he could look any happier he'd die of happiness.
"Fine just give me any details I need and go away."
"Fine Mr. Grumpy Pants. Ok basic facts. Her name is Elizabeth Summers, call her anything besides Buffy and she'll hurt you. She's 21 years old, blond hair, blue eyes, and a nice body. That's it. See ya." With that he turns to walk away but not before spinning back on his heel and yelling back at me. "Oh and did I forget to mention she's suicidal? So you might want to remove sharp objects from your house. Ya know, just in case."
Oh my god what have I gotten myself into?


I hate my parents! Why do they think that they can just ship me off to the west coast to No-wheres-ville, California to live with my idiot of a cousin Xander who is gonna ship me off to live at his friend Angel's house. I mean Angel? What the hell kind of a name is that. He's probably gay and stupid. My stupid parents think that this is what's best for me. 'Oh but Buffy you'll be so much happier their.' Ya right. I don't think so. They have no clue what it's like to be me. They don't have to go out at night and kill things that should remain in an Anne Rice novel. Fuck, I even tried to kill myself with my own steak. Right through the heart or so I thought but noooo…it would figure that the one time I miss my mark it would be on myself. Instead I got it right between the ribs and unfortunately didn't die. Figures huh?
So here I am on a fucking plane heading for Sunnydale, California home of the Hellmouth, which in other words is basic living, feeding, breeding ground for most demons. Oh joy, more stakes, knives, and video tapes.