**Isn't it funny how things never seem to go according to plan?**

She sat up in bed and looked out the window, the streets were well occupied. She didn't doubt that most of them were vampires or shapeshifters or something nasty that was just dying for a bite from some helpless soul out at night.

**Not in Sunnydale - or Sunny*hell* as Spike prefers to call it**

She pressed her face and hands up against the glass trying to spot any she'd seen before. No. No familiar faces. Funny how she seemed to be running out of familiar faces these days. Mom. Riley. Anya. Xander. All gone and they weren't likely to return unless some necromancer brought them back.

**I hate her. She always manages to get to me.**

Kicking back the covers, she glanced at the clock. 1:23 am. She'd better go if she wanted this to happen, wouldn't want to be late. Not for this. Rummaging through her drawers, she pulled out a pair of tight black pants and an equally tight burgundy halter neck. She wanted to look her best for this.

**Can't do this looking like a tramp, now, can I? After all, I'll only get one shot at it.**

Getting dressed, she grabbed her black boots and hurriedly pulled them on. On her way out, she grabbed her purse, house-keys and her favourite jacket. Her mom's last birthday present to her before...well, just before. Opening the door, she took one last look at the hall and sighed sadly. Then, turning to face the cold, night streets, she left.

**He had *better* keep his promise...and I'd better get there in one piece.**

Wrapping her jacket tightly around her she hurried down the road, striding past various vampires as they shied away from her apparent authority. She stopped as she came to what used to be the Bronze. It was now a building labelled CONDEMNED by the council. She shuddered and glanced around her.

**I'll make her see. She'll wish she'd stopped it. She'll wish alot of things, but she won't get them.**

Wrapping the jacket tighter, she tensed a little as a dark figure emerged from the shadows. She relaxed slightly - at last, a familiar face. The figure stopped a couple of feet away from her,
"Hello, Lover."
"Hey."
Smiling, she gazed into his soulless eyes as he took her in his arms and kissed her. He pulled her back to see her face,
"Sure about this?"

**Duh, like I'd want anything else.**

"Yeah."
She watched with a mixture of admiration, fascination and fear as he reverted to his vampiric face and smiled, fangs glistening in the moon light. He pulled her closer and gently pushed her head back.

**This is it. If he kills me - vamp or no - she'll be sorry. She'll be sorry for...**

Plunging his fangs into her neck, he slowly drained her, savouring the young blood while he had the chance. Then, remembering his promise, he withdrew and offered her his wrist, his eyes glinting as she drank hungrily, knowing he had quite possibly created another monster.
She woke the next night, hungry for blood and desperate for vengeance. He humoured her, watching with pride as his Childe devoured human after human, the bloodlust increasing till they were intercepted.
As they strolled through the cemetery, picking off snacks, they were stopped. She was watching them. She was watching them and had been for a while.

Buffy glared at her sister. Her sister glared back, a mutual hatred building in the short space between them. Stepping back, the elder vampire signalled for his Childe to make the first move.
Brandishing an axe, Buffy lunged at Dawn, falling to the floor as her sister rapidly moved aside and dealt her a hefty kick in the ribs sending her rolling across the ground. Dawn smiled sadly, and pulled a stake from the inner pocket of her coat.

**Kick-boxing lessons come in handy. Thankyou, Giles.**

Buffy scowled, ran and jumped, hurtling towards the girl - and landing on the stake. Falling to her knees, the Slayer looked at her chest where the stake handle was now protruding. With one last look at her sister she died, her body crumpled on the floor and her blood mingling with the rain as it began to fall. Dawn blinked hard. That wasn't supposed to happen. *She* was supposed to be the one who died. Biting her lip, she turned to look at her Sire. Her lover. All those secret meetings, had they all been for nothing? He had promised her revenge, was that what she'd recieved? She didn't know. She wasn't sure. At the age of 17, Dawn had known pure, unadulterated hatred. Now she knew many things. Glancing at Buffy's body, she suddenly realised she felt nothing for her dead sister, and something deep inside told her that was wrong. She should feel bad. She didn't - quite the opposite. Filled with a new lust for life, she gave the body one last kick and grinned as she heard several ribs crunch. Sensing her hunger once again, Angelus moved to his Childe's side and took her arm. They left the cemetery and continued their feast, forgetting the most powerful Slayer the demonic world had known.