Title: Heart of Stone

TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Author: Beloved Slayer

Rating: T

Summary: Changing into a vampire by Angelus was something that Buffy had not wanted, nor expected. He shows her the world and all that he offers, but is she willing to follow him into a life of darkness?

Author's Note: It's been months since I last posted a story, but today I finally decided to write a quick one to show that I'm alive. I have a rewrite of Night's Child that I am working on, but it'll take some time. Anyways, this is a one-shot A/U that takes place sometime during season two. Happy reading!

If my heart was still beating, fear would override me, urging me to hide from plain sight. But I no longer felt its thump.

I've been a vampire for three days. Because of him.

You know who I'm talking about.

My enemy.

My lover.

Angel.

Angelus. The Scourge of Europe. Whatever name you want to call him by. It didn't matter anymore.

As of now, my body was pressed against the wall of the local dingy bar known as Willy's.

I inhaled the scent of fresh blood that billowed around me. It made my head reel as if the world was spinning on its axis, but it immediately stopped. My nocturnal eyes caught trails of splattered crimson drying within the alley way, circling around the corpses that were splayed motionlessly among the pavement.

One body had his neck viciously torn apart. The image of it was almost too much to bear.

But a quick pang of hunger stabbed at my chest then, forcing me to clench my teeth and focus my attention elsewhere. I fought it back with the strength that I hadn't been aware of having.

I didn't want to drink from those that I was formerly sworn to protect. I didn't want to continue his need to kill.

He had left their bodies for me to drink on, but I wasn't going to obey his order, in spite of the consequences that would await. He was a monster.

I was not.

The day I rose from the dirt bed, I found that I still bore a conscious, but it didn't stop me from muttering curses because of what the bastard had done. What he stolen from me without an ounce of remorse to show for it. Taking place within the confines of my dead heart, though strangely as it appeared to be, my love for him lingered. It remained there only for Angel. Not for Angelus himself, however.

He didn't deserve it.

Ironic how now I had taken Angel's place. I've wondered if, like him, I was cursed with a soul. But maybe it's redundant now. As it is, it was too late to wonder the what if's.

I was like him, but it didn't mean that I had to become like Angelus either.

This time, for some inexplicable reason, I had a choice.

It was then that I heard the patter of heavy footsteps from a distance.

He was coming, and I snarled, fearing his reaction.

"Oh, Buff, why are you not eating? You're not purposely leaving all this food to waste, are you?" came Angelus' sing song voice that was tinged with a slight accusation. His duster jacket draped behind him like a heavy velvet cape. "'Cause it's a sin."

Too late.

I took a quick glance at him. He was adorned in his signature red silk button down shirt and leather pants, his chocolate hair glinting under the pale beam of moonlight as if they were spires.

To other women who might have been too stupid to run, the sight of him would be beyond a single breath. To me, it brought a feeling of repulsion and sickness drifting in my stomach. I wanted to heave, if it were possible. "I'm not hungry," I replied shrilly. I wouldn't give in to what he wanted.

I was not going to be his companion, his bride in a world of shadows and death.

"Don't piss me off, lover. I killed these people just for you to feed. I'm your sire, and you do as I say. Unless you enjoy hours of torture, which happens to be a favorite hobby of mine. I'm a bit rusty, but I can make it happen."

I rose to my feet, but kept my back towards him as my eyes studied the dead.

"No," I spat out, a single hand balled into a fist.

He had no idea what I held in the other.

"No?" a befuddled look crossed his angelic face, as if he couldn't believe what I had said. "No to all the blood you could have, the killing, the endless sex and passion we could have?" His voice took on a softer, more seductive tone, which raised hackles. "Together forever. Don't you want that?"

Before I could move, I felt his hand gently gliding down my neck, rubbing circles into the skin. His touch would secretly arouse me long ago, but this time, nothing came of it. I felt his lips pressed against me, leaving a feather-like trail, and I used that moment to my advantage. I spun towards him, opening my right hand to reveal the makeshift stake I had taken from a broken pellet, and plunged it onto his back, striking into his black heart.

I slightly pushed him away, aware that my killing him had also killed the man I had truly loved. For that, I returned his kiss, closing my eyes to the world around us. "I will never be yours. Always his. What you're offering, I don't want it. Where you're going, you can keep the darkness and blood to yourself," I whispered into his ear, knowing that his eyes were brimmed with horror, anger, and betrayal. "Revenge is sweet," were my last words.

And moments later, he would tumble and fall into a swirl of dust.

It didn't take long for something to drape across my mouth.

A smile.