A/N: Based off of the idea in the Angel episode "The Ring", but since this story is about a Slayer, I'm putting it here. It takes place in Rome in AD 60. Joss Whedon owns the concept behind the Slayer; I only own the characters.

Chapter One:

The night was too still. Rubellia hated the sticky, constricting air; it wrapped its hot hands around her even though she'd stripped down to only her under-tunic. Summer in Rome was the worst thing Rubellia had ever faced, even through nearly three years as the Slayer. She understood why the vampires liked to make their homes in the mausoleums that lined the Via Sacra- they were built out of cool marble, and retained that chill through out both blistering day and sticky night. Rubellia almost wished she could climb inside one and just curl up among the funerary urns. Perhaps the Mausoleum of the Cottae?

She dismissed the idea quickly when she saw the shadowy figure drop from the roof of the mausoleum in question. Quietly, she pulled a stake from the small bag that hung at her side and moved toward the vampire. Its movements were a little jerky, its frame off balance. Newly risen, no chance to feed just yet. Her lips curled up as she crouched, waiting for her moment.

The vampire came closer, no doubt smelling the blood in her veins, but not noticing her exact presence. It growled softly, readying itself for the attack, when she pounced. Left foot planted on the ground, swift kick to the vampire's chest, punch to the jaw, stake in, and it was over.

Rubellia sighed and looked up to the sky. "That's it then. One vampire. Sacred calling indeed."

She started back home quickly, wanting to be inside before the streets started crawling with people. It would be unwelcome attention to be seen out and about at this hour, unescorted and immodestly dressed. But it wasn't too hard to sneak through the nearly empty streets- men in Rome were notoriously self-centered, and so it was usually the women one had to look out for, and they would not be out in force until at least dawn. She was lucky with the timing of that last vampire at least; there had been one day when she had not been able to get home until well after dawn, and how the eyes had widened when she walked up the Clivus Quirinius, a sight to be sure with torn clothes and dark blood standing out against her blond hair and pale skin. She almost chuckled at the memory, but the lecture she had gotten afterward was nothing to laugh at.

She arrived at the modest house on the Quirinal hill just as the sun was beginning to peak over the six other hills of Rome. She slipped inside just as the neighbors were exiting their house and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Cutting it very close, as always."

Rubellia turned and nodded to the man before her. Marcus Silanus was her Watcher- and for convenience's sake, her husband. Despite the early hour, he was already clad in the purple striped toga of a senator, the white sash over his sandy head and the small plate of salt cakes evidence that he was in the middle of the morning sacrifices, one to the household gods, another to Janus, the god who presided over the opening and closing of doors. Rubellia herself murmured a reverence to him as she closed the door. "I didn't mean to be so late."

Marcus nodded, breaking one of the salt cakes and whispering a prayer as he knelt before the cabinet that lodged the gods of the household. After the nearly silent prayer, he stood and removed his white hood. "It's alright. I just worry about your reputation."

Rubellia laughed and dropped the small bag of stakes and kicked off her dusty sandals. Servants were at her side in an instant, collecting her discarded clothing. "My reputation was ruined long ago."

Marcus had the decency to at least look a little flustered. "Well, it could not be helped. There were, indeed, vampires in the senate house… How was I to know you would be caught attempting to destroy them?"

Rubellia raised a brow. "Perhaps because you are a member of that august body and should know when they are meeting?"

Marcus looked away and stammered a little to himself. "Well, fine, then… But it was necessary."

"I won't argue with that." Rubellia collapsed in one of the chairs that lined the wall of the atrium. "Quiet night, again. One vampire, climbing out of the mausoleum of the Cottae… I think they might be nesting there. I'll hit it tonight at sundown, and make sure none of them get another meal."

"You'll have to postpone it."

"Why?"

Marcus didn't look at her as he adjusted the drape of his toga. "We've had an invitation to dine with your cousin tonight."

Rubellia laughed. "Which one? The one who tries to look down the front of my dress whenever I reach for my glass, or the one who keeps crying about her precious husband's exile in Gaul?"

"Neither. The other one."

She sobered instantly. "Oh. Did he tell you why he graced us with an invitation?"

"I didn't think to ask."

"Probably wise." Rubellia took a breath, then smiled. "I shall see you this evening then."

"Yes." Marcus moved forward, kissed her cheek. "Get some sleep."

"I will. I'll need it." As the door closed behind him, Rubellia turned to the girl who waited by her side. The servants had long since grown accustomed to their mistress's strange hours and even stranger appearance when she returned home in the morning. This girl in particular, since she was Rubellia's attendant. "Leah, please wake me at the fourth hour, and have a bath ready and my… blue stola laid out." She knelt before the small cabinet of household gods, and reached for a salt cake. "Tonight we dine with the emperor."