Chapter One
June 2, 1997
Buffy followed the young boy through the tunnels leading to the Master's lair. She'd walked through them once before... when she'd tried to save Jesse. What a failure that had been. If she'd done her slayer duty, she could've saved him. Instead, she had let a potential friend die because of her carelessness.
Buffy knew she was heading into a death trap, but she had to try to stop the Master from escaping. Even if that meant risking her own life in the process, if she were going to die, maybe she could take him down with her.
The boy stopped and pointed at the lair, inviting Buffy to enter, then turned and left the way they came. Buffy took a deep breath and stepped into the cave.
She circled slowly, taking in her surroundings. In the absence of the sun and electricity, candles lit the rocky room, illuminating a pool of water to her right. Her nose scrunched as the rotten smell of the water filled her nostrils.
Whatever she'd thought the Hellmouth would look like, this was not it. She expected dead bodies littering the ground and vile creatures that she'd never encountered to be roaming around, not a dank and unpleasantly smelly cave. But the place itself didn't give her the wiggins like the oppressive presence of the demon occupying it.
"Welcome." The Master's voice echoed off the walls.
"Thanks for having me," she replied, trying to find the source of the voice.
She really should've taken Giles up on his offer to work on her vampire-sensing abilities... instead of skipping to go to the Bronze with Willow and Xander.
An awkward silence followed, stretching until Buffy decided to fill the void with a quip. "You know, you really ought to talk to your contractor. It looks like you got some water damage."
Buffy's eyes darted frantically around the gloom. Come on... where are you?
"Oh, good. The feeble banter portion of the fight. Why don't we just cut to the—"
Buffy turned and launched a bolt in the direction of his voice.
With lightning reflexes, the Master caught it mid-flight. "Nice shot."
Crap! Buffy reloaded the bow.
"You're not going to kill me with that thing," he taunted.
"Don't be so sure," she replied, her voice lacking confidence. She went to aim again, but he was gone.
"You still don't understand your part in all this, do you? You are not the hunter; you are the lamb."
Buffy stalked the cave, searching for him. Tripping, she looked down to find a decomposing corpse. Just another person she didn't save…
She didn't have time to mourn an innocent human's death. If she didn't stop the Master, there'd be thousands more. I must keep a clear mind, she reminded herself, and then looked away and continued her search.
"You know, for someone who's all-powerful, you sure do like to hide." Buffy didn't like this game they were playing, mainly because she was losing.
"I'm waiting for you. I want this moment to last."
"Well, I don't," Buffy mumbled.
It was clear he had the upper hand. He could see her; she couldn't see him. And the longer he stayed hidden, the more anxious she became.
Suddenly, there was a presence behind her.
"I understand," he said.
As she turned, the Master knocked the crossbow out of her hands and grabbed her by the neck. She quickly swung her arm, knocking him away, and ran for the entrance. And suddenly, the last two years of training had fled her mind and gone was the Slayer while the girl ran for her life. Knowing she'd underestimated him, and that escape was her only hope, she mentally grasped at straws. He couldn't leave the lair yet. She could get to the entrance before he caught her.
Suddenly, she froze. Held by his hypnotic powers, she tried to move but couldn't. She looked back at him, desperately trying to gauge his next move.
He approached her, making slow twisting motions with his hand to keep her immobilized. He came up behind her and gently took off her leather jacket. It fell to the ground next to her shoes.
She was panting hard with fear. This was it. She was going to die, and she couldn't take him down with her. She had failed.
"You tried. It was noble of you. You heard the prophecy that I was about to break free, and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures. They don't tell you everything." He leaned into her ear and whispered, "You're the one that sets me free! If you hadn't come, I couldn't go. Think about that!"
Her chest tightened as it became harder to breathe; a panic attack began to take hold. He was going to walk free. And it was her fault.
Oh god, she was going to die.
The Master waited a moment longer, clearly relishing in the fear radiating off her. Then he bent down and bit her at the base of her neck.
She gasped in pain as a tear slowly fell down her cheek.
I don't want to die.
He drank a few sips then let her go.
"Oh, God! The power!" Buffy heard him yell as she dropped to her knees.
"And by the way…"
She fell facedown into a pool of water.
"... I like your dress."
That was the last thing she heard before her lungs began to fill with water. She tried to move, but the Master's hypnotic power held her fast.
Her eyes fluttered closed as her heartbeat grew slower and slower and slower…
Frowning, Buffy stared at the blond man standing in front of her. He wore black jeans, a shirt, boots, and a long leather duster. Seriously, what was with all the black? He screamed Billy Idol wannabe.
More importantly, where was she? Looking around the room, she caught sight of a mirror and gasped at the reflection that stared back at her. She looked older. Her body looked thinner, her hair lighter, and her face hardened. Suddenly, the memories started coming back: the prophecy, going to the Master's lair, him biting her, her drowning in a pool of water.
She had died, but if she were dead, why was she in this room with a random stranger? Should she ask him where they were? More than likely, Giles would caution against relying on a stranger for answers she could figure out herself, but Giles wasn't here, and she was dead.
Was this Heaven? Slayer equals good... which equals Heaven, right? Despite the all-black attire, the man was enough of a hottie for her to believe this was someplace good. Nobody looked that beautiful on earth. He had to be an angel.
On the other hand, the room she was in looked like a regular person's bedroom. She expected Heaven to have flying angels and big gates, clouds scattering the sky, and people happily singing. Maybe this was somewhere in between life and death? She was about to ask the man where they were but stopped when he suddenly kneeled in front of her.
"You listen to me. I've been alive a bit longer than you and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine and done things I prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So, I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls," he said. Buffy's breath caught as he looked directly into her eyes. "A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you."
Buffy looked away, overwhelmed by this stranger's evident love for her.
"Hey, look at me," he said, reaching for her face. She slowly returned his intense gaze. "I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, 'I love you,' it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."
She could feel the tears falling down her cheeks. She'd had a few immature high school romances before she'd been called as the Slayer, but she'd never felt this kind of devotion from any boy she'd dated in the past. This wasn't a boy. She was staring into the eyes of a man who loved her, and never had she experienced this feeling before. Not from Angel, who only showed up when her life was in danger. (And it wasn't like he did a stellar job of helping her stay alive... What with her being dead and all.)
"I don't want to be the one," she whispered. She never wanted it. All she wanted was a normal life and, one day, two point five kids and a white picket fence. Instead, she got pain, misery, and death—emphasis on the death part.
"I don't want to be this good looking and athletic," he joked. "We all have crosses to bear."
Buffy chuckled. He was handsome and had a sense of humor.
"You get some rest now. I'll check-in before first light," he said as he stood up and began walking towards the door.
"Wait!" Buffy yelped. She suddenly had an intense yearning to know who he was, specifically, what he meant to her (or possibly future her). The man turned back around. "What's your na—"
June 2, 1997
Buffy opened her eyes and drew a deep breath. Frantically, she looked back and forth between the two faces looming above her. It took her a few seconds to recognize them as Xander and Angel.
The gray of her mind slowly cleared as fuzzy images sprung up before her. The Master had killed her. Then, in her afterlife, she'd met a man who had professed his love for her.
But she was no longer in that room with her mysterious stranger; she was in a dark cave. The same cave she'd died in only moments earlier. And she was alive.
"Buffy!" Xander said happily.
Buffy turned her head to the side and coughed the water out of her lungs. As she spluttered, she could feel Xander gently stroking his hand through her hair to soothe her.
"Buffy," Xander said again, trying to gain her attention.
She looked up at him. "Xander?"
"Welcome back."
She wasn't dead. It didn't take her long to piece together what had happened. The Master hadn't drunk all her blood; she died because of drowning in a pool of water, which meant Xander must've performed CPR on her.
Buffy snickered. She'd drowned. What an odd way for a Slayer to die. With Xander and Angel's help, she slowly stood up.
"Easy. Easy," Xander said.
"The Master?" Buffy asked.
"He's gone up," Angel replied.
Buffy nodded and tried walking towards the entrance. Xander put a hand on her elbow, halting her from continuing any farther.
"No. You're still weak."
"I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you."
Buffy shook her head. "No. No, I feel strong."
"You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."
"I feel different." She smiled as she replayed the words her mysterious stranger had said to her. Whether it was a dream or the afterlife, she didn't know. The only thing she was sure of was that she felt stronger, more powerful. She turned back to Xander and Angel.
"Let's go!"
The Bronze was packed, and Buffy was glad her friends had decided to celebrate her victory over the Master by dancing. After everything that had happened, being alone didn't exactly appeal. Giles and Jenny were on the other side of the club talking. Xander was out on the dance floor. Observing from her spot at a table, Buffy laughed when Xander began dancing crazy and accidentally knocked Cordelia over.
"How are you feeling?" Willow asked.
Buffy shrugged. "Funky in an 'I just died and came back to life and killed the Master of all vampires' kind of way."
"Oh," Willow nodded. "How did it feel when you died?" Her eyes widened as she realized what she had asked. "Oh! I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories! You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."
Buffy smiled. "It's okay, Will. I've been waiting to talk to you about it anyways."
"Okay," Willow smiled and then frowned. "What happened?"
Buffy checked to make sure Angel was still waiting in line to get her diet coke, then turned back to Willow. "When I… died… I was transported into this room. I saw myself in a mirror, and I looked older. And there was this man… or a vampire, I think."
"Was he in 'grrr' face?"
"No, but he said he'd lived a 'hundred-plus years', which probably meant he was a vampire. And, let me just say, this man was sex on legs. I mean, wow. He was gorgeous, Will. And he was talking about his love for me and why I'm an amazing woman. He told me I was 'the one.' And then, when Xander brought me back, I felt like I was stronger because of what he had said."
"Wow," Willow said dreamily. "Where do you think you were?"
Buffy shrugged. "No clue. The future? It would explain why I looked older. I just don't get why I would end up there." Buffy frowned. "Or it's just something that happens to everybody when they die, and everything goes kablooey. One last good memory before…"
"Did you get his name?"
Buffy shook her head. "Nah. He's probably not even real."
Willow put her hands over Buffy's and gave them a comforting squeeze. "It's okay. Real or not, he still helped you defeat the Master."
Willow and Buffy ended the conversation when Angel walked back over with Buffy's diet coke, but that wasn't the last time she had thought about her mysterious stranger.
September 29, 1997
French and Buffy were very unmixy things. Even studying with Willow wasn't helping. Point her in the direction of a demon, and she could slay it easily. Try and teach her French? A big waste of time.
"Oh, je stink." Buffy shut her book and pushed it away.
"You're just not focused," Willow said. "It's Angel missage. I thought you said he'd show up tonight?"
Buffy wasn't quite so sure. Angel only bothered talking to her when there was a new Big Bad in town. And she was starting to think that he didn't feel the same towards her that she felt towards him. Whatever relationship they had was just strictly business for him.
"Well, he didn't say for sure. It was a 'maybe see you there' kind of deal," Buffy replied and then frowned.
Even she knew how far-fetched that sounded. Xander walked over, sweat dripping down his face. "Guys, I'm all alone out there. Somebody has to dance with me."
"Well, we are studying." Willow reminded him.
"Come on, one dance. You've been studying for nearly twelve minutes," Xander pleaded.
"No wonder my brain's fried," Buffy said.
Pushing French to the back of her mind, Buffy stood up and dragged a reluctant Willow to the dance floor.
Buffy swayed to the music. Arms above her head, she closed her eyes and allowed the beat to wrap around her body. It was nice when she could just be a normal teenage girl—not worrying about Principal Snyder harassing her or her mother grounding her—not worrying about jumping to somebody's rescue all the time.
And then she overheard somebody say there was a man out back trying to bite someone. Of course, I jinxed myself.
She raced outside to help, pulling a vampire off a girl, and yelling at the girl to leave. The girl ran without hesitation.
"Slayer!" the vampire hissed.
"Slayee," she replied as she aimed a roundhouse kick at his face.
They traded blows until he delivered a punch that sent her spiraling to the ground.
"I don't need to wait for Saint Vigeous. You're mine!" He bent down to bite, but she kicked him in the face, sending him staggering backward.
"Spike!" the vampire called out. "Give me a hand!"
Confused, Buffy turned to look at the corner where the vampire had called out too but saw nobody there. Hearing the newly arrived Xander call her name, Buffy caught the stake he threw her way and stuck it into the vampire's chest. Not bothering to watch him completely dust, she headed for the Bronze door.
She stopped when she heard clapping. Turning around, she froze in place.
It was him… her mysterious stranger. He was there and very real. He was wearing black boots, with a red shirt underneath his long leather duster, and he was still as handsome as the last time she'd seen him.
But the look in his eyes wasn't devotion and love; it was lust and hatred.
"Nice work, Luv."
"Who are you?" she asked.
It was a question she had been asking for over a year now. Who was this man who had given her the strength she needed to kill the Master?
"You'll find out on Saturday," he said.
"What happens on Saturday?" she asked, genuinely curious of what his answer would be.
"I kill you," he replied and then slowly walked away.
She could only stare after him. Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, it hadn't been that. She was confused. The man that she had dreamt about night after night, the man whose speech she replayed in her mind whenever she needed the extra strength against a baddie... was in Sunnydale to kill her. The Powers That Be had to be playing a joke on her.
"Hey, Buff, we should go."
Xander's voice brought her out of her thoughts. Buffy gave the empty spot her mysterious stranger had occupied only moments before one last look before heading back inside.
Later that night, when Buffy was alone to dwell in her thoughts, she concluded. The man—demon—she had met after death; was not the vampire she'd met in the alley tonight.
The other vampire had called him Spike. (Odd name, but who was she to judge?) And Spike was a soulless monster who would kill her the second he had the chance.
A small voice in her mind nagged at her, reminding her that it was a vision of the future. Someday he would love her. The voice whispered at her, not to kill him. To give him a chance.
But it was hard to provide a chance to a vampire who'd rather see her dead. He didn't have a soul, not like Angel. He could never love her without one.
Then how did he love you in the future? The voice asked.
Buffy put her pillow over her head, telling her subconscious to be quiet. To her surprise, it complied. She remembered the love she had felt from him when he talked about her and looked at her. But not now. Not for a while. Maybe not ever.
She had to kill him, or she'd end up dead. Again. But how could she kill him after feeling the devotion his future self had for her… If what she saw was even the future. It could've been a trick or a spell he had put on her… that gave her strength to kill the Master so her mysterious stranger could kill her later instead. Buffy groaned, knowing how far-fetched that sounded.
She had to kill him or be killed. She didn't enjoy the thought of having to kill him, but she wasn't going to be the one who ended up dead because she let her guard down. And, with that last thought, she drifted off to sleep.