Title: Incidental Effects (Tales of the Slayer Remix)
Author: Vixen Fred becomes a slayer and lives though the trials and tribulations that comes with that calling.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Buffy
Warnings: Character death
Spoilers: Anything up to season 4 of Angel is free game.
Title, Author and URL of original story: Remixed version of Incidental Effects by M. Scott Eiland (http/ upon a time, when Angel was still her handsome knight and Fred was just a damsel in distress, she dreamed of being a slayer, just like Buffy. Maybe then, she thought, Angel might want or even love her too.

Funny how some dreams come true.

Awaking with the night, Fred lay awake before the evening's hunt began, senses already sharp. An ambulance's siren screamed down the street outside the Hyperion, nothing too out of the ordinary though Fred had to stop and think of the victim for a moment, whether or not the monster she had been trying to fight was the cause.

On the outside, the city hadn't changed much in one year. Crime rates were up, there were more unaccountable deaths, but most people went unaffected through the same lives they had led before. Fred wasn't as lucky. She couldn't stay tucked away in her sanctuary knowing what face the darkness wore. It would have been easy to run and hide before, but she wasn't that girl anymore.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed she'd once shared with Charles, Fred grabbed a nearby shirt and pulled it on. Lost in memories, she starred at the mirror that stood on the dresser. Old photographs of the gang were tucked into it's wooden frame. Everyone looked so happy, so full of life. Once upon a time, she reminded herself.

Running a silver brush though her hair, Fred paused to think of the carefree days when she wore her wavy brown locks in two playful pigtails. Wesley told her it looked cute that way. He was gone, all her boys were in one way or another. With no one left to impress and work to be done, she tied it back into a tight braid.

After rising from the bed where she spent most of the day tossing and turning to escape nightmares she had already lived though, Fred threw on a pair of pant. It didn't matter how they looked as long as they were functional. Into her cargo pants went the tools of her trade. A bottle of holy water in the large side pocket, a cross in the back one, and a large stage tucked into one of the belt loops.

The last part of her arsenal, the crossbow Angel had picked out for her months ago, lay on the floor where she'd dropped it last night after coming home exhausted. Swiftly bending over to retrieve it, she couldn't help but question the fate that had brought her to this cold and lonely place.

Ever since meeting him back in Pylea, Fred dreamt of having one magical date with Angel. Though in Pylea, she was a bit too crazy to even remember what a date was. The word for it lost in the survival mode she'd been in. All she knew was that she wanted to be alone with him, to have all his attention focuses on her while the rest of the world dimmed away.

Tonight was the realization of that dream. Only, instead of the world going dim and fading away, the city seemed to be buzzing with activity. Everything was so much brighter, so full of energy. She could feel the rush of the subway car beneath her feet, hear the secret little whispered words of lovers in the streets, smell tacos from a mile away.

There was also this power humming inside her, like she could take on whatever the world decided to throw at her. Fred attributed it to being in Angel's presence. Even after he'd told her there couldn't ever be anything between them because he was a different kind of man, even when she knew it would only lead to heartache and disappointment to ponder on the possibility of a relationship with him, even when she'd attempted to move on with Wesley and Charles, there was still a part of her deep inside that longed for her handsome knight's touch.

By the time they'd gotten to the fancy Mexican restaurant, Angel had begun acting nervous and worried. Fred fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she sat across from him and wondered why he had asked her out that night.

"Fred," he started after ordering the spiciest thing on the menu, "Have you, um, been feeling differently tonight?"

She couldn't help but smile warmly. Of course she felt different, all of her dreams were coming true and she was sure Angel was about to tell her they might have a future together. Maybe he was ready to move on after visiting Buffy a week ago. Though her heart was doing flip-flops, she managed to calmly reply, "Yeah, I feel all tingly inside. Kinda like I'm just waking up."

Angel took a long pause while Fred waited patiently for what he would say next, "Fred, when I was in Sunnydale a few days ago, Buffy told me of a spell Willow was going to try. According to her, after performing this spell every girl who has the potential to be a slayer, will become a slayer."

Fred nodded, trying to follow the sudden change in conversation.

Seeing her apparent confusion, Angel continued, "After seeing the way you've been acting lately, the way you handled that axe before, I think the spell might apply to you."

"So, I'm a.. slayer?" Fred shook her head, not able to believe it was possible nor wanting to accept the short lease of life she'd just been handed. Added to that was the fading feelings of love that seemed to be dragging her spirits downward. Angel hadn't been about to ask her out or anything, he just wanted to talk about slayers and spells and Buffy. Everything came back to Buffy. Fred lowered her chin, afraid she had somehow embarrassed herself with silly thoughts of romance. Hopefully he hadn't noticed her being a lovesick dope, he wasn't big on the noticing anyway.

Getting back to the more serious business, she started again, "No, I can't be a--" It was useless, she could already feel the differences inside her. It wasn't love at all, just the power each and every slayer was given. "Are you sure? I mean, little boring me, a slayer?"

"You're not boring, Fred." His eyes lit up and she felt another silly grin forming on her lips. "And yes, I think you are a slayer. In fact, I can even smell the slayer in you."

"Ah, vampire senses and all," She nodded, still trying to take everything in. Then she looked up into his eyes, a bit startled and let forth a string of babble, "So, what do I do now? Do I have to train or.. Go kill things now.. I'm not good on the front line, Angel. I much prefer hanging in the background and you know, backing other people up."

"I talked to Wesley before we left the Hyperion. He agreed we should start training." He continued explaining as the waiter brought their food. "He can handle the technical stuff and if you'll let me, I'll teach you some hand to hand fighting. Let's see if we can't give those vampires a reason to get out of Los Angeles."

With that the course of her training was set in action, Fred had a watcher for the knowledgeable stuff and a vampire to help train her in fighting and combat. Nothing much changed for the first few months, the gang went out together like usual, taking on whatever demons threatened the city. Little by little, though Fred moved to the front of their battles alongside Angel. With a slayer leading them on, the demons and vampires of Los Angeles had a little more to fear each night.

When she could still play the part of the damsel in distress, the Hyperion had been Fred's castle. She built herself a sanctuary in her room to keep the outside world from invading her fantasies. Inside that safe fortress, she holed up with just some food and a pen to capture her thoughts on the four walls. Her bedroom still served that purpose, though the walls were now bare. She could keep her own insanity within the walls of her mind now.

Though the bedroom was a good place to hide from the slayer's duties and tasks set before her, the rest of her castle had fallen and only ruins remained. Every corridor of the Hyperion was a painful reminder of everyone she had lost and why she could not rest yet.

Memories, both good and horrible, seemed unwilling to die within this place. The bad ones drove her on to the point of obsession but always brought up the same lump in her throat, the same blaming thoughts. Even the good things she remembered were heart wrenching because those days were long gone.

Making her way down to the hotel lobby, she passed by burnt walls and places were the past had left marks, both physical and emotional. Echoes of the life she'd once led and the happiness she'd briefly touched invaded her mind. Each step she took, Fred recalled moments from that life she longed to forget, if only to make it easier for herself.

On top of the stairs, that's where Gunn and her shared their first kiss. It flashed across her mind, the memory taunting her, before she shook her head and started down the staircase.

At the bottom of the stairs, she turned towards the burnt out lobby. Even through the wreckage of many battles, Fred could piece together what the lobby looked like before chaos had enveloped her life. There in the middle, near the now torn apart couch, was where Wesley held her after they returned from the ballet. Again, she moved forward, unwilling to reminisce.

The weapons cabinet lay on the floor, still broken. Once, during a fight with some vampires, she'd fallen into the cabinet and left a nasty bruise across her shoulder. Though, Angel had come to her rescue as he had a habit of doing back then. Turning her attention away from the past, Fred looked at the cabinet with it's broken glass door and doubted she would ever fix it. The place was damaged beyond repair. Even if Fred did repair the broken furniture and patch up the walls, the memories would remain.

She rarely even turned the lights on down here, not wanting to see the haunting places in full color. Still, with her slayer-honed vision, even in the darkness it was impossible to miss the crumbling walls and scorch marks, broken furniture and broken dreams that marred her once-castle.

The worst of the memories came just before Fred was heading out the door. At the entranceway, that's where she had stood when she found them dead. Wesley's neck broken, the pulse she couldn't find on Charles, like a record these things played through her head. Every time she left for patrol, her mind would dredge up the last painful moments Fred had spent with her friends, her surrogate family.

Unable to forget the things she had seen, Fred leaned against the glass door in anguish and the same tears she'd cried every night for six months came again.

Doggie bag in one hand and her favorite stake in the other, Fred bounced down the walkway to the front doors of the Hyperion. Angel's tip from the Th'solo demon about the vamp next on the lower eastside had turned out to be a bust. At least she'd found a tiny hole in the wall eatery that served tacos all night though.

Her only real complaint was the lack of company and encroaching boredom. She couldn't blame the gang though. Last night, she'd kept them up until dawn doing the slayer thing, plus by now she was more than used to going out on patrol alone. For all their desire to help, her boys just didn't have the slayer's energy.

Angel rarely went patrolling anymore either, since he'd been busy working on something for the past few weeks. He hadn't told her what exactly it was yet, only that it was going to be a surprise.

Coming up to the double doors of the lobby, Fred found herself a bit curious as to why the lights were still on. Usually by the time she got home from a long night, Charles and Wesley had gone to bed and Angel was brooding in the dark of his office or reading in his bedroom.

When she turned the doorknob and smelt a mixtures of fire, ash, and blood, the curiosity switched to intense alarm. She dropped the doggie bag on the steps and pulled the stake up to a ready position, rushing through the door. What Fred found inside brought out the little girl in her and for all her slayer training, she could not help but let out a startled cry.

Wesley lay by the stairs, looking up at her with blank dead eyes.

Her stake clattered to the ground, making a dull sound in the unreal haze of the moment.

Before Fred could gather her thoughts or cry the tears that threatened to fall, a voice shook her from the state of frozen shock. A voice she recognized and hoped never to have to hear again after the incident with the Beast, "Wondered when you would finally stop by, Freddles. You missed the party."

Her head shot up, just quick enough to catch Angel dropping the drained body of Charles on cold ground. Reacting with slayer instinct now, Fred reached for her fallen stake. "Angelus.." Her voice drifted over the truth. One question coursed through her mind, "How? Did Buffy..?"

"Oh, no, little Miss Perfect Happiness hasn't come near Angel in a long time. Can't blame her. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near him myself if I could help it." He gestured to the new burn marks on the walls, the peeling wallpaper and makeshift alter surrounded by candles and herbs. "All it took was a little spell. Wolfram and Hart helped me out with it, planted all the right ingredients within Angel's reach without letting him in on the punchline. See, he thought the spell would separate the vampire from the man, which it did. The only catch was that Angel would cease to exist without me. He's gone, darling."

As Fred slowly crossed the room, he continued talking at complete ease. She might have been a slayer, but they both knew she was still too new, too ill-equipped to handle this sort of threat. The only thing that kept her alive at that moment was Angelus' desire to witness her emotional pain.

"And here's the best part: there's not even a soul to put back in this body. He just poof, disappeared," Angelus lowered his chin, "Good riddance, I'd say."

A groan from below him made the both of them look down at Charles, who was still just barely alive. Fred rushed to her friend's side, heedless of the big bad who stood in her way. Angelus only laughed as Fred knelt on the floor and cradled his head in her lap.

"Fred," Barely only a whisper could escape Charles's lips before he cringed in pain.

"Shh, don't talk," She told him, trying not to look at the wound on his neck. He'd lost so much blood, too much. There was no way he would make it, but she tried to smile encouragingly just for her friend's sake. Then turning her attention away from the painful sight, Fred starred up at the vampire who was watching the scene and looked rather amused. In a voice so low it scared even herself, she told him, "I will kill you for this."

Angelus smirked just before turning his back on them and walking away, "Good luck with that."

Six months had passed since Fred made her promise to Angelus, though it seemed like an eternity ago. Her life ended that night when everything she had held to had been destroyed. She hadn't even been able to stick to her word to kill him, always one step behind to find the victims he left for her.

Part of the problem was tracking him down. No one in the underground demon world wanted to talk about Angelus. Though Fred had thoroughly enjoyed kicking the crap out of some of the reluctant ones. Even if they didn't have any useful information, it felt good to just let go and pummel something. Maybe it was part of being a slayer, dealing with things through violence. Or maybe she had reached the point where it didn't matter to her anymore.

On a nightly bar run yesterday, she'd finally lucked out and found someone who knew something. A scaly demon who said Angelus was hiding out in the old Haverford mansion down by the bay. After he told her what he knew, the thing looked like it expected a reward, probably money. All Fred gave it was a large enough knife wound to kill it quicker. Slayers kill demons, she told herself, it was as simple as that.

Only it wasn't simple. Not when the demon that needed killing wore her friend's face.

That was the other reason Fred had been unsuccessful in keeping her promise. She didn't want to admit it, but some small part of her was still in love with the one who had saved her from Pylea, the one who brought her back to sanity. His memory was there with her the whole time, unable to be forgotten.

The city streets were crowded tonight as she passed by the local ice cream shop. A couple walked out of the shop hand in hand, obviously in love. For all their happiness, they only reminded Fred of what she didn't have anymore and of what she never had in the first place. Angel.

It was nice at night, walking with her hero, her champion, her Angel. He had bribed her with ice creamy goodness in order to get her out of the hotel, out of her dark cave of a room. It wasn't completely for the two scoop double chocolate chip cone though, even though it tasted so very heavenly, the idea of her walking around town on the arm of the handsome man who had saved her from the monsters was enough of a reward for stepping outside.

She took another taste of her ice cream, "Pylea didn't have anything like this."

"Fred," Angel said reassuringly, "You're not in Pylea anymore. You're safe now. You know that right?"

"Yeah," She continued walking down the boardwalk. "I'm here, enjoying yummy ice cream with you, I know." Turning towards the breaking waves down by the beach, her voice took on a bit of that old crazy rambling, "But I think sometimes that you'll get tired of me, or you'll throw me out of the hotel, or you'll just leave.. And then I won't be enjoying yummy ice cream with you anymore. I'll be alone again. And I'll get lost again."

"That will never happen."

A part of her wanted to believe him, wanted to take comfort in Angel's words and trust that everything would be okay. He was smart, and brave, and if anything bad ever happened he'd be able to stop it. That was what heroes did after all.

Still, deep in Fred's soul she knew the new happiness that had been found would not last. Eventually something would happen, some disaster that couldn't be adverted, some demon that couldn't be stopped. Then she'd be alone again, despite all of Angel's promises.

Crossbow held out in front of her, Fred crept into the mansion surprised and a bit annoyed that Angelus was living so well. While she was struggling to make it through each day, trying to pay the bills while simultaneously dealing with the pain of losing everyone she loved and tracking the monster that killed them down, he was here making this twelve-room home his own.

She'd been staking out old creepy lairs in the sewers and run down mausoleums for the past few months, thinking that he would stay there after he turned back to his old ways. But no, he'd always liked the beautiful places, ones that could reflect his artistic nature.

Listening to only silence and her own heart beating, Fred continued down the hallway that led from the front door. After passing a few bedrooms, still furnished with the previous owners things, she got to a large living room. The mansion had a Spanish old-world style that only the dim light from the streets filtering through heavy curtains could display.

No one could be seen, nothing moved, though she didn't take that as a sign to relax. Angelus could be hiding anywhere, waiting for her to make the first mistake. She promised herself she wouldn't though. All mistakes tonight would be his.

The curtains moved and a shadowy figure stepped out from behind them. Fred jumped, despite herself, holding her finger on the trigger of the crossbow. She should shoot him, she knew this. There would be more time for errors and slip-ups if she didn't kill him quickly. Still, pausing on the trigger, she only starred as he lit a candle that hung on the wall.

"We're finally alone, Fred," He kept his voice low, soothing almost. "Is this what you expected? Seductive candlelight, old romantic castle, alone with Angel."

"You're not him," The slayer shot back. Fred had slowly been lowering the crossbow without realizing it, but she aimed it back at his heart as he came nearer. Still, she couldn't shoot. Why couldn't she just shoot it?

"Oh, put that down, you're not going to use it," he laughed, picking up a wine glass from the long table nonchalantly, like she wasn't even a threat. Even after training to kill him for six months now, Fred still wasn't even a threat. "You couldn't kill me if you wanted. You're in love with him, always will be." He shook his head, mock-sadness in his voice, "Silly little lovesick girl."

Without warning, Fred pulled the trigger of the crossbow. Scaring even herself with its suddenness, she jumped as it sailed out of the crossbow, swiftly aiming for it's target. A second later, Angelus moved out of the way, deftly avoiding the projectile.

Angelus growled as his game face changed his features. Before she could even get another bolt loaded into the crossbow, he had crossed the room. Standing beside her, he tore the weapon from her grasp. "Girl's got bite after all."

After throwing her crossbow against the wall, all that was left were pieces. Fred took a step back, reacting with slayer grace and pulled her stake out of her belt loop.

There was only a moment's hesitation in her movements, but she could feel them. Something was slowing her down, giving Angelus enough time to grab her wrist. He yanked her around, until her back was against him and she could feel his tongue caressing her neck. She squirmed but knew it was pointless. If only she had been trained better, if only she had been quicker. Or maybe she was never supposed to become a slayer after all.

His tongue tickled the spot right above her carotid artery. She flashed back to medical books she had read in the past, the carotid was the main vein in the neck, the best place for a vampire to drink. He was going to kill her, she realized though she'd obviously knew that. What else did she expect, Fred wondered, coming into his home unprepared. His fangs nipped at her neck, softly, like a lover would as her body bucked against his, trying to get away.

Pulling away from her neck, he whispered to her, "Think I could wake you up with a kiss, princess?"

As Angelus sunk his fangs into her neck, sucking the life from her, Fred fought for only a second. After the struggle was gone, she relaxed in his arms. There was a certain finale to it, like all the moments she'd known him had led up to this, like this was what their destiny had always been. It wasn't the kiss she had always longed for, waited for, prayed for but it was something.

When all the blood was nearly drawn from her, he swiveled her in his arms. Facing him, Fred felt dizzy and light-headed, almost like that night at the restaurant, almost like being in love. As he held her up so she wouldn't fall, he somehow cut his own wrist. Too delirious and faint, she didn't even notice until Fred saw the blood offered to her.

A moment passed as she realized what she was giving up. Sunlight, her family, her soul. But then Fred remembered what she had been offered. Eternity with her dark prince. Feeling the moment slipping away, the choice fading with the darkness of death caused by blood loss, she drank full and deep and accepted the compromise.

Dumb old fairy tales and their happily-ever-afters.

The End.