A Switch in Time Chapter 3, a buffy: the vampire slayer fanfic

Chapter Three

Sunnydale's town was like so many other small towns that made up the endless suburban trope of Southern California. There were little neighborhoods scattered everywhere. You had your neighbors that jogged on the sidewalk every day at approximately seven in the morning, a mail carrier who walked from house to house delivering your mail but also stopped to give your dog a treat on his way, teenagers that partied every night until the next morning, and nosy neighbors that wanted to know everything about your life so they'd have something to gossip about with their friends. Just your basic small town. And that is what brought Buffy Summers to Sunnydale two months ago, though she hadn't known it at the time—forced to leave her old life in Los Angeles after her parent's nasty divorce. Her dad cheated on her mother with his secretary, and now Buffy could barely squeeze in a phone call before he hung up to be with the woman. A girl that was honestly creepily close to her age. So, she and her mother came to Sunnydale because Joyce Summers thought it was the perfect place to start over. The ideal place to run an art gallery the way she'd always wanted.

Buffy believed in that dream. She'd been thrilled to have an opportunity to put her old life behind her. She could finally forget about her parent's messy divorce, her loss of friends, and her popularity.

She began attending Sunnydale High. The first two weeks were great. She'd met a new friend Willow and tried hard to keep up with her classes. It was almost perfect. And then the random deaths started occurring, and the weirdness of people not staying out past dark. She didn't think much of it at first. But when she'd heard hyenas had eaten Principal Flutie, cheerleaders starting to die odd deaths (also the reason why she decided not to try out for cheerleading this year), and a creepy internet demon hacking into the school's computer system and deleting all of the student's files, she couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on with this town. But, when weird things happened, they seemed to go away within days. If Buffy had to guess, she'd assume it was because of that odd Librarian and the group of kids that hung out with him.

When first arriving in Sunnydale, her friend Willow had informed her who they all were: Oz, Larry, Nancy, and Xander.

Xander was Willow's lifelong friend. But when their mutual friend, Jesse, had turned into a vampire, Xander had started hanging out with the library group and ditched Willow. Buffy never knew him well. She talked to him a couple of times on her first day of school but never again after that. Sometimes he'd walk through the halls but always seemed to be in a bad mood, so she'd never bothered him again.

Sunnydale High's school board always talked about the excellence of their public education, although everyone believed it was to cover up the number of overwhelming deaths. On the other hand, Buffy knew there was something majorly wiggy with Sunnydale, and everyone who lived here knew it, too. Sunnydale was cursed. She'd heard rumors that the town was the epicenter of all dark forces that lurked in the shadows of the world, a constant threat to humanity. It was evil's very own ground zero.

In its way, Sunnydale was the Heart of Darkness.

And vampires were real.

Honestly, she wished she'd been more surprised because she knew the moment she'd learned of their existence that the man she'd met two months ago was one too.

Of course, she didn't know what he was at the time. She'd just thought he was a guy who liked to experiment with makeup. Boy, was she wrong.

He was a vampire.

She often caught herself thinking of him. The mysterious stranger with the demon face that had saved her one night months ago planted the idea in her head, and when she moved to Sunnydale, it was confirmed. A vampire had saved her, yet they were supposed to be evil. Was he a good vampire? Well, he'd helped her before threatening to kill her himself. Maybe not so good.

Unfortunately, she and her mother had to learn about vampires' existence a hard way. They were walking to their car from the store when a vampire had attacked them. It was a terrifying memory. Buffy could remember the vampire about to bite down on her mother's neck when a stake came from nowhere, and the vampire suddenly turned to dust. She'd looked around, trying to find a clue of where it could've come from, but never found an answer. After a while of thinking, she'd accepted that maybe it was just a guardian angel watching over them.

If you lived in Sunnydale, there were unspoken rules everyone knew to follow if they wanted to stay alive. Never leave the house after sunset. Never go to the Bronze (the demon's hangout spot). Avoid it like it's the plague. And never, ever invite anybody into your house.

Looking up at the clock, Buffy noticed the time was later than she'd expected. She'd regretted staying longer in the computer lab finishing her homework assignment. Her mother would be worried sick if she weren't in the house before sunset. Grabbing her bookbag, Buffy saved her homework then began walking home.

The sun had gone down faster than she'd expected, and the next thing she knew, she was walking home alone at night, which was so not good. Walking turned to jogging and then to a full-on sprint. She could only hope that she didn't run into any vampires on her way home. She'd sometimes get a weird tingling feeling on the back of her neck if she felt someone near, but it always seemed like someone was watching her, even during the day (and she knew vampires couldn't go in the sun). Of course, she jinxed herself because three male vampires were surrounding her the next thing she knew. They were circling as they eyed their prey. Buffy looked around for an escape. There had to be one somewhere. Think, Buffy, think.

She tried to run, but arms swiftly grabbed and restrained her against the cold hardness of the alley wall. He pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing her, his teeth biting at her flesh. She squirmed underneath his grip, breaking one hand free to deliver a punch to his face. The punch didn't do the amount of damage that she'd hoped; it hurt her more than him. He didn't seem fazed by it at all. If anything, he looked more turned on. She let out a scream for help but knew nobody was coming to save her. If somebody had heard, they wouldn't be stupid enough to run into an alley at night, even if it meant saving somebody's life.

One minute the vampire had her back pressed against him; the next, he had her on the cold, wet ground. Tears streamed down her face as she realized that making her their dinner was not the only thing they wanted. They wanted something more. Death she could accept, but not this. Never this.

"Please, don't please!" she cried.

"Shut up, bitch."

One vampire straddled her while the other two held down her wailing arms and legs. She tried kicking but was no match for their strength. The vampire straddling her ripped her blouse open and went to do the same with her jeans. Buffy shut her eyes, not wanting to see what happened next.

This is it. I won't even die with dignity, she thought.

And then there was a thunderous roar, and the weight of the vampire straddling her was gone, same with the hands holding down her legs and arms.

"Slayer," the voice boomed. "Move."

Buffy didn't know why the man had called her Slayer or who he was, but it felt natural; the random nickname meant something to her. She didn't know-how. She just knew.

Buffy opened her eyes and gasped at the sight in front of her. The man that had saved her two months ago was here. And he was protecting her again. Under normal circumstances, Buffy would have thought it was weird that he always popped up out of nowhere when something unpleasant was about to happen to her. For right now, she was just grateful. He had one vampire by its throat as the other two were standing up, recovering from whatever her savior had done to them. At his warning growl, she obediently moved quickly to the corner of the alley and out of his way.

She watched in fascination as her savior ripped the head off the vampire in his hand. Dust floated around him as the other two vampires charged. They were no match for him as he was the stronger fighter. It was over quickly. Dust glittered in the dim light as it fluttered toward the ground. Her savior turned towards her, his yellow eyes glaring daggers at her. He stalked over and looked her up and down.

Why was he looking at her like that?

Was he going to finish the job the other three had started?

Was he going to kill her?

"Are you hurt?" he asked impatiently, surprising Buffy. But she could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn't care for her well-being.

She looked down at her filthy appearance, her shirt shredded, exposing her flesh. Was she hurt? Physically, no. Mentally, yes.

She shook her head, no.

"Good. Next time don't be an idiot and walk into alleyways at night," he said, his tone harsh.

Buffy sat there, shocked. How dare he!

"Well, it's not like I meant to! They cornered–," she stopped as she watched him walk away from her. He was leaving her by herself. Buffy jumped up and ran after him in a moment of panic, grabbing his hand to stop him from going. "Hey! Don't leave me!" As soon as her hand contacted his, a spark of electricity flew up to her arm. He must have felt it, too, because of the confused look he shot her way. She immediately released his hand.

"Can you walk me home?" she asked softly.

"No," was his short and cold reply.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Sod off."

"Pretty please?"

He looked ready to refuse again.

"Please," she pressed; desperation lingered in her voice.

After a minute of staring at each other, he finally, grudgingly, nodded his head while giving her an annoyed look.

"Fine."

Buffy let out the breath of relief she'd been holding.

"I-Uhm-I can't walk around like this." Buffy pointed to her torn shirt.

He cleared his throat. "Right," he said, looking unconformable. He took off the long leather duster he was wearing, then removed his red button-up shirt and handed it to her. "Put this on," he commanded before slipping the duster back on.

Buffy took the shirt and hurriedly buttoned it over her ruined one. The shirt was huge. Way too big for her small figure. She looked up to give him a grateful smile, but he was already walking away from her. She rushed after him and walked by his side—a million questions racing through her mind. One stuck out more than the rest.

"Why do you keep showing up like this?" she asked. So much for being subtle.

He didn't answer her, which in turn only made her more curious. Didn't he hear her asking him a question?

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

No response.

"Silence," she mused with a small nod. "You know, that won't stop me from asking questions."

Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer her, she heard him speak.

"Spike."

"Spike," she repeated, assessing the name on her tongue. "That's a weird name."

"And Buffy is any better?" he mocked. "At least mine's just a nickname."

"Hey! My mother gave me that name!" she said defensively.

Spike snorted. "She sounds like a bright bird."

Fuming over the insult of her mother, she asked, "If Spike is just a nickname, what's your real name?" Ready to make fun of whatever name came out of his stupid British mouth.

"None of your business," he replied curtly.

Buffy huffed and crossed her arms when she realized she wasn't going to get an answer out of him. Fine, whatever. She would just keep making fun of the name Spike. And her name wasn't weird at all! She happened to like her name and wait a minute…

"How did you know my name?"

"Can't remember," he replied. Judging by his facial expression, Buffy knew he wasn't truthful. It was a lie. He was lying!

"Liar," she huffed, irritated.

They walked in silence for a while before Buffy continued bombarding him with questions. "Why did you rescue me?" she asked. It was a question she'd been wondering since their last encounter. From the rumors she'd heard about vampires, they were supposed to lack any emotions. So why did Spike save her? Twice!

That question did get a reaction; he stopped walking and turned to face her; she could tell she'd made him angry. Probably hit a nerve somewhere. But she wasn't sure if it was from her constant questioning or that question that triggered him.

"I didn't have a choice," he growled. "I had to do it. Don't get your knickers twisted thinking you're anything special, and that I give a bloody damn about your life."

Spike continued his rampage, swinging his finger in her face as he took a menacing step forward. It would have been very intimidating if he hadn't saved her life twice now and if he hadn't given her his shirt to protect her modesty, even if he was only doing it to shut her up. Somewhere deep down inside, she knew it wasn't a smart idea to piss off a vampire–savior vampire or not–and this one had a low anger ignition point. And judging by how easily he took care of the vampires back in the alley, she'd guess that he was much stronger than the average vamp. So, pissing off a strong moody vampire? Not of the good.

For the first time that night, she was able to take a good look at his appearance. The man standing in front of her had bleached blond hair, all-black attire with painted nails, rings on his fingers, and a silver chain around his neck. Hmm, I wonder what his favorite color is, she thought sarcastically. He reminded her of Billy Idol. Even with his demon face, she could still feel an attraction towards him. She froze as the thought raced through her mind. Whoa. There was no way she thought a (more than likely) evil vampire was good-looking. Vampires were supposed to be unpleasant and gross. Not hot.

"Slayer," he snapped. Bringing Buffy back to reality and making her realize she'd been staring.

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"What does your human face look like?" she wondered aloud. She wasn't sure vampires had human faces, but sometimes she saw them switch between the two in her nightmares. Of course, it could also just be her subconscious making it up, but she'd heard stories at school that vampires could blend in with people because they could wear their human faces whenever they wanted. It made it easier for them to hunt for food.

He didn't answer her and instead growled and continued walking. It didn't take her long to realize that he was leading them back to her house. She wanted to ask him how he knew where she lived but decided against it. She could practically feel the anger radiating off him and didn't want to push him any farther.

When they got to her front door, Buffy turned to him and smiled.

"Thank you again," she said. "For helping me tonight." And before she lost her courage, she leaned forward and kissed him on his rigid cheek.

Spike stared at her, his gaze hard, filled with an unknown emotion. Probably anger, she suspected. It didn't last long because the next minute, he abruptly turned around and stalked away into the night. Sighing, Buffy opened the front door and walked inside.

"Oh, Buffy!" Joyce gasped, running into the foyer as she looked at her appearance. "What happened?"

In the safety of her own home, she began sobbing uncontrollably, the tears stinging her eyes and her small wails echoing down the hallway corners. She'd almost been raped! And now that Spike was gone, she was able to let her walls down. Joyce wrapped Buffy in her arms, comforting her in any way she needed, in the way only a mother could.

The next thing she knew, three male vampires surrounded her, circling as they eyed their prey. She tried to run, but arms swiftly grabbed and restrained her against the cold hardness of the alley wall. He pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing her, his teeth biting at her flesh. She squirmed underneath his grip, breaking one hand free to deliver a punch to his face. The punch didn't do the amount of damage that she'd hoped; it hurt her more than him. He didn't seem fazed by it at all. If anything, he looked more turned on. She let out a scream for help but knew nobody was coming to save her.

"Please, don't please!" she cried.

"Shut up, bitch."

Buffy awoke with a gasp. She felt everything like it was happening again. Her entire body was covered in sweat from her nightmare. Rubbing her eyes to stop the tears from falling, she laid back down and tried to fall asleep… and tried… and tried. Growling in frustration, she opened her eyes and looked around her room in search of something. There had to be something that could help her sleep better because Mr. Gordo wasn't helping.

There had to be something…

Her eyes caught the red shirt Spike gave to her earlier that night. Would that help? She reached over the floor and grabbed the shirt. She took a deep breath of the cotton material. It smelled like a mixture of cigarettes, alcohol, and Spike. She cuddled the shirt to her face and closed her eyes, minutes later falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.