A/N: This is my first fanfic, so I'd love it if you would leave a little feedback. Thanks to all of you who have followed and favorited. And special thanks to my beta reader, Katrina.
Warning: Rated T, but may go up depending on how descriptive I get down the road.
Disclaimer: Buffyverse owned by Joss Whedon. Supernatural owned by Eric Kripke.
Chapter Four: Buffy
Buffy pulled a small mirror from her purse, aiming it towards the bar until she could see Dean's reflection. He was facing her direction, but was too far away to tell if he had an intense, stalker-y focus on her or if he was doing the gentleman thing and making sure she was all right. Either way, she was stuck here. She lowered the mirror and looked to a door at the end of the hallway. The door that a vampire and his victim had just walked through.
She'd been about to tell Dean off for thinking that she needed to be protected by him or any other man when she'd gotten distracted by a couple behind him, making out at the bar. It made her more painfully aware that her plans with Parker had fallen through, and that he was the latest in a growing line of men who left Buffy. Until she realized that only the woman was reflected in the mirror above the bar.
Most vampires didn't feed in public unless they were making some big statement, so it would probably feed in the alley. Meaning it would have to take its victim through the hallway with the bathrooms. Which also happened to be across the room from the bar. And since Dean made such a fuss about following her home, she decided on a new plan that got him over there and her over here.
Killing a vamp would definitely take the edge off. More satisfying, at least, than punching Parker, even though he totally deserved it. Giles was always going on and on about the importance of tempering her strength in order to maintain her secret identity while she was more worried about guys getting all wigged out about her being stronger than them. Luckily, she hadn't hit Parker with her full strength, but still... she'd lost control and hit him harder than she'd planned. Although not as hard as he deserved.
Buffy growled in frustration. She was wasting time trying to figure out how to ditch these Winchester boys when there was a vamp who needed slaying. And a victim who needed saving, but whatever. She snuck a quick peek over her shoulder and saw Sam still sitting at the table. He was a sweet kid, and she had really liked talking with him. She even felt a little sorry that she was planning on ditching him and his stupid brother. But it looked like she wasn't the only one checking him out.
"Cute shoes," she said to the tall girl in front of her. "Hey, you went to Sunnydale, right? I saw you in one of the classes that Willow was teaching when she took over for Ms. Calendar."
"Yeah. I'm a junior over at Lawndale. Went there after Sunnydale blew up. How's Ms. Willow?"
"She's good. Listen, I'm on a date from hell." The girl shot her a sympathetic look. "Tall, brownish hair, stubbly jaw. Kinda hot, but totally sporting that grungy Seattle look with the flannel shirt. The thing is, I wanna sneak out the back door and see if my friend can pick me up. If he tries to follow, could you tell him I'm waiting for him and Sammy at the entrance?"
"Sure," said the girl. "'You're waiting for him and Sammy at the entrance.' Wait, are you on a date with two guys?"
"My date and his little brother," Buffy said with a slight shake of her head. The girl's eyes widened. "Yeah, it's been that kind of date. On the plus side, Sammy's also the cute guy you were eyeing earlier. Tall, shaggy brown hair, sitting alone by the pool table? I actually had fun talking to him. And he's totally available." Playing matchmaker appeased her conscience a little.
The girl flushed and nodded her head towards the door. The line for the ladies' room had grown while Buffy was plotting her escape, so she was pretty sure Dean wouldn't easily be able to spot her in the crowd. Just to be sure, she stole a glance behind her and saw him raising a beer bottle to his lips. Perfect timing, she thought as she spun around and quickly slipped out the door.
Depending on the size of the vampire and its victim, it can take several minutes to drain enough blood to cause serious damage. Buffy had already spent some of those getting away from Dean's watchful eyes. But the vamps around The Bronze were either dumb or lazy because they usually didn't stray too far before they started to feed. In fact, she'd only walked a few yards before she heard the girl's whimpering cries.
"I'm having a really bad night," said Buffy, spotting the vampire feeding off its victim who was pinned against a dumpster. "Know what would make it better? Kicking your ass."
The vamp lifted its head and turned around, exposing its ridged forehead to the dim alley light. Its blood-soaked lips had stretched and pulled back around a distorted mouth, making the two elongated fangs more prominent. The girl slid to the ground, and Buffy wondered if she had been too late. But as the vamp turned away from its victim, the girl started scooting back, clutching the metal dumpster for support.
"You should run," Buffy told her. Thankfully, the girl heeded her advice and ran down the alley towards the main street. "And next time you decide to make out with a random guy, check to see if he's got a pulse first."
She turned her attention back to the vamp. It was cautiously walking towards her, feinting to the left and right, testing her reflexes. But she didn't want to play cat and mouse games. She wanted to beat the snot out of it.
"Shall I tell you why this evening has sucked so far?" Her eyes narrowed as it prepared to attack her from the left. But from its stance, she knew the vamp would actually be coming from the right. She deflected the blow and dealt her own, knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up, she was on top of it, pummeling its face with her words and fists. "It's. Because. Guys. Like. You. Think. You. Can. Control. Girls. Like. Me."
Somehow it managed to get its arms between them and throw her into a pile of crates.
"That's it," she said, leaping up from the heap. She reached into her jacket and retrieved her stake, twirling it in her right hand. She and the vamp began to slowly circle each other. "I'm tired of men trying to push me around. Tired of them telling me when to stay and when to leave. This time, I get to decide. And I've decided to stand here. If you want me, you're going to have to come get me."
Buffy planted her feet firmly into the asphalt pavement of the alley, a ring of light surrounding her from a yellow bulb overhead. The vampire paced back and forth, staying in shadows, but she didn't need to see its face to know the thoughts flittering through its head. It was taller than she was, had a longer reach. It could wrap those inhuman fingers around her throat and crush her windpipe in seconds.
Her muscles tensed.
It charged towards her.
She braced herself, closing her eyes and mouth as she thrust her stake into its heart and felt it shatter.
"Ewww."
The vampire had turned to dust, coating her in a fine layer of dead demon. Flipping the stake one last time, she tucked it back into her jacket and started brushing the particles off her sleeves.
A door creaked open a couple yards ahead of her. Dean stepped out, his eyes sweeping the alley until they landed on her. "Buffy, are you okay?" He began walking towards her, his voice tinged with concern. So maybe he was being all gentleman-y. "What happened?"
She looked around, trying to imagine what he was seeing. There was the pile of broken crates. And then there was her, covered in filth, knees a little scraped up from when she'd knelt over the vamp and pounded its face. Might as well throw in the bruised knuckles as well.
As she tried to think of an excuse that would explain everything, she realized that she didn't care. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't make her look weak or incompetent, except maybe the truth. Which normal people like Parker Abrams and Dean Winchester would never believe, even if she could tell them. So she said, "Random dust storm. They happen pretty often in dark, narrow alleyways."
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. She glared at him, daring him to deny her story. She wanted him to say something, anything about how weak or fragile or delicate she was. Instead, his eyes widened in surprise, and he cried, "Son of a bitch!"
Next up Chapter 5: Dean He thought Buffy needed saving. Boy, was he wrong.
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Let me know by leaving a review!
