A/N: Okay, first of all, this is a Mass Effect fic. It's my first, so be patient with me. Next, while it's a Mass Effect fic, it's also kinda/sorta a Buffyverse crossover. But not in the most traditional sense. More than likely, you won't see Buffy, or Spike, or Xander, or Willow, or even my beloved Faith in this story. It will probably be ALL ME characters.

Also, before anyone mentions it, I KNOW Miranda seems grossly out of character here. Know why? She has to be for this story, haha. But I promise that if you'll hang in there with me, that it will all tie into the Mass Effect story. Promise. Also, hopefully you'll find this entertaining. I know I had a blast writing it. And this is the part where I have to give a big thanks to MXPW for some great input on this story. You're the best, dude. Oh, and to Liam2, whose Sarah the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on this piece.

And finally, for fans of my "Chuck" fics, don't worry. I don't plan on abandoning any of them. This is just something that I really, really wanted to write. And it makes me happy. And when I'm happy, I write more, so everyone wins. Or everyone loses, depending on your point of view, I suppose. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, and please review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Don't own Mass Effect, or Buffy. They are the property of Bioware and the great Joss Whedon respectively. Please don't sue!

Slayin' Genes chapter 1: Miranda the Slayer

Okay, so I didn't tell Shepard the whole story. Yeah, he knows about Oriana, and he knows about my father, and he knows that Cerberus gave me shelter when I ran away from home. But that's the easy stuff. And it's not that I like keeping things from him. I truly don't. Not now, anyway. Not after, well I guess there's on other way to put it, not after he screwed my brains out in the engine room. Heh, I knew the upgrades would come in handy when we were rebuilding him.

Anyway, yeah, but like I was saying, even though we shared that moment, he still doesn't know everything about me. He can't. Because as much as I want to tell him, I just can't. And oh, I do want to tell him. I want to be open and honest with him. After all, it's not every day a girl finds the best lay she's ever had. And yeah, I'm probably in love with the asshole. But that's even more the reason I can't tell him. It's too dangerous. For him, and me. For him, because, well, I'm not letting him risk his life when it's not his fight. For me, because if I told him, honestly he'd probably think me some kind of nutcase and shove me out the nearest airlock for the betterment of the crew.

So that's why, while everyone else was partying it up on the Citadel during a little shore leave, I took the opportunity to slip out to a well known local cluster not too far from there. And it was surprisingly easy to get away, too.

Jack and Garrus made it their personal mission to drink Shepard under the table. A foolish challenge if ever there was one.

Thane was being, well, Thane, and doing his whole weird spiritual thing.

Jacob was off moping over losing me to Shepard. Not that I don't understand that on some level. I mean, I'm just being honest when I say that I'm one tremendous piece of ass. Jacob has every right to mope.

I do have a sneaking suspicion that Mordin may know about my other life, but if so he's keeping mum on the subject thankfully.

But I tell you all of that to tell you this: getting away was rather easy. A simple "I have a headache, and I'm retiring early tonight" and everyone left me to my own devices, like taking a shuttle and heading to my current location. Yeah, sometimes it pays to be the bitch everyone hates. Well, everyone except Shepard. He loves me, and how could he not after I put it on him like I did? But still, he was respectful enough to give me some room with the only caveat being that my sweet ass belongs to him tomorrow. I have no issue with that, you know, as long as I make it back alive. Which I have little doubt I will. This isn't my first patrol.

But I see I'm getting ahead of myself, so back to my other life. You see, since I was 15, I've known that I had a certain…calling in life. I have certain gifts that not very many, or should I say almost no humans are born with. Another little present from my father, of course, but this is one that provides me with another goal in life. And I'm always up for something that gives me purpose. Makes me feel useful.

Since I turned 15, at least a few times a year, and whenever I'm anywhere close to Earth, I always have to come back here.

Oh, here by the way is what, many years ago, was known as Cleveland, Ohio, United States. Of course, after the formation of one united government on the planet, all previous sovereignties were obliterated in lieu of new local governments, so it's no longer known as Cleveland. But that doesn't change why I'm here. It doesn't change what lurks beneath.

Hah! That sounded rather foreboding, didn't it? Well, it fits, I guess. After all, I am in a cemetery. And well after dark no less. It's around 3 AM local time, to be exact.

Now I know what you're thinking. This merc killing, mech blasting, boyfriend stealing (that's right, Williams!), ass kicking bitch from hell couldn't possibly be afraid of those things that go bump in the night (and I'm not talking about my liaisons with Shepard, because we make a lot more noise than a simple "bump"). Well, you'd be right. Mostly. I'm not afraid. I am, however, waiting.

I'm waiting by the headstone of one Johan Liverwitz. Which, by the way, is probably the single worst name I've ever heard for a human. Poor sonofabitch probably welcomed the release of death after having lived with that horrible moniker for his entire brief and pathetic 21 years.

And I must say, despite the fact that he's dead, he still embodies many of the traits known of the typical 21 year old human. Take, for instance, the fact that I've been waiting on him for four hours now. Oh yeah, I forgot, I didn't tell you why I was waiting.

See, last night, Johan here was attacked by a strange, undead creature. No, it wasn't a husk, though it shared many of the same traits. Like the smell. Actually, Johan encountered a vampire. Finished staring in disbelief yet? Okay, good. Yes, vampires exist, and yes they're a real threat, at least to the humans of Earth.

After all, it's not like the average human is born with a genetic makeup like mine. They don't have my beautiful face, they don't have my perfectly honed tight ass. They don't have my amazing, gravity defying rack. They don't have my intelligence, or the wry sense of humor, and the quips that come with it. But more importantly, they don't have my natural biotic ability, or my…

Shit. Look who finally decided to wake up. The dirt on the grave starts to rumble before a hand reaches up from under the clay and gravel. The being pulls himself up, until finally, a formerly average looking 20-something emerges. I say formally average looking, because now, he's anything but average. And not in a good way. His eyes glow yellow, and there are sharp ridges along his now sloped forehead. Oh, and the fangs. Can't forget the fangs. Heh, he looks kinda like a very attractive Turian. But don't tell Garrus I said that.

"Johan, I presume?" I ask, irritation ripe in my voice.

"Damn, if I knew I'd be waking up to you, I'd have died years ago. Nice rubber suit, by the way. Really shows off your tits," he answers.

God I hate the young. And the dead. And now I'm dealing with both at once.

"You do realize that I'm here to dust you, yeah? You might want to stop staring at my chest."

"Kinda hard when it looks like the girls are trying to reach out and touch me."

I look down at my breasts, and dammit! I really need to invest in some nipple tape if I'm going to keep wearing this ridiculous uniform in such frigid environments.

"It's cold," I say shrugging.

"If you say so. I don't feel all that cold," he answers.

"Well, first of all, you're from here. No doubt you're accustomed to the weather. Oh, and also you're dead, so that helps with not feeling cold, I'd imagine. Maybe. I don't know for sure. Maybe I'll ask my boyfriend later."

"Your boyfriend's a vamp?" he asks.

"No, not that. He's not dead anymore. I brought him back to life."

"Ah. Fair enough," he says. "So, anyway, are we supposed to fight now, or something?"

"Meh, I'm not really in the mood now," I say. Which I'm not. Had he popped up a few hours ago, I'd have gladly given him a little sparring session. You know, just for the workout. But now? I have to get back to the Normandy before anyone realizes I'm gone.

"So what then? You're just going to let me go? You do realize that I have to try to drink you, right?" he asks, affronted by my sudden disinterest.

"Oh, I'm still going to kill you," I say matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" he asks.

And it's the last sound he'll ever make, as before he can utter another word, I pull a wooden stake from behind my back and send it flying towards his heart. He doesn't even have time to react as the projectile buries in his chest. He looks back to me, just for a moment, confused by his sudden predicament. Of course, then his body, first the flesh, then his skeleton, dissolves into dust and blows away with the wind.

And shit! I really need to make sure my next slay doesn't happen up wind. Now I'm going to have to shower before I settle down for the night with my Shepard. Ah well, maybe if he's not too drunk, he can join me. Yeah right, like he's ever "not too drunk".

Oh, and in case you're still wondering, my other genetic gift? I'm the last of the Vampire Slayers.

Next time: All of this starts to make sense in the Mass Effect universe, and things start to get tied to the greater story therein. Promise.

A/N: Okay, so there you have it. My first foray into Mass Effect fiction. And Buffy fiction. Kinda. I hope you enjoyed it, and I look forward to your feedback. You guys are awesome. Peace.