Title: The Becoming (no, not that one)
Author: Natalia Melissa Vronsky
Part: 1/10 "Slayer of Slayers"
Summary: A prequel of sorts to "Buffy: the Vampire?" Filling in the blanks between the time Buffy was turned by Spike and before she was shipped off to the "other Sunnydale"... even a glimpse of the two vampires peaceful lives after getting rid of their three elders.
Note: The title was taken from the NIN song, "the becoming". It fit the whole, changing and becoming something completely different thing that Buffy goes through the entire fic.
Thanks: Daisy-May and Cassie: best beta's in the universe.
Rating: I'll say R, though don't hold me to it... we may get into NC-17 later. :)
Archive: feel free. Just lemme know where it's going... as always, not at some "worst fan-fiction ever" archive. :)
Feedback: Pretty please with a cherry on top? It'd be ever so appreciated.

"What have you done?" Drusilla was livid as Spike burst into the factory, supporting the still-weak and newly risen Buffy.

"You know damn well what I did and why." Spike snapped. Buffy let out a whimper when his voice rose. Her head felt like it would burst at any minute.

Something was wrong with her turning. She could feel it deep down... and she could see the worry etched on Spike's face when he saw the wounds Drusilla had given her open and start bleeding.

"You've been very naughty in loving the slayer, Spike. But, turning her is so very wrong. Daddy must know of this. He will be quite vexed, I'm sure."

"So am I. I really don't give a sod about what the Poofter thinks right now." He made Buffy sit in a chair before checking her wounds. Dru glared at the pair before rushing to go find Angel.

"Spike? We should get Giles. He always knows what to do."

"Luv, your Watcher would kill us both."

"Something is wrong, Spike. He'd be able to help, Spike. Please." She grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, fingers trembling. "Please."

"All right, Baby. Off to the Watchers we go." He lifted her into his arms, heading towards an exit.

"Leaving so soon? Not gonna let me say hello to our newest family member, are we, Spike?" Angel blocked their way out of the factory. Darla and Drusilla stood behind him, vamped and ready for a fight.

"Get out of my way." Spike felt Buffy clutch at him tighter.

"Or you'll what? It doesn't look like your in the position to threaten. I seriously doubt she could fight and I could take you out without even batting an eye." Angel sighed and made a big show of showing he wasn't interested... but Spike recognized the gleam in the elder vampires eye. It was one he often got when he spotted a young virgin he'd take and kill. "Why don't you just hand the Slayer over and go on to your room. I'll pretend you never went behind my back and turned someone without my approval."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? You've always hated what I had with her. Always wished it was you instead... except she'd never, ever let you touch her. And neither will I." He growled. He'd kill his family of one hundred and twenty-four years easily if any of them dreamt of hurting the girl he loved. "Now, get out of my way."

"Always tried to be badder than me, Boy. Problem is you aren't. You're just that weak and pathetic poet you were when we turned you." Angel vamped, making a grab for Buffy.

Spike, however, had already made a bolt for one of the other exits. He knew he was faster than any of the others. True, running wasn't his style, but, he was vastly outnumbered. If Angel chose to do so, he could call the minions on him... and he and Buffy would most definitely be dead meat. Spike wasn't sure any of *his* most loyal minions would dare take his side against Angelus.

But, of course, people as well as demons could be very surprising. Spike's DeSoto was outside the exit, engine running. One of his minion's, Dalton, sat in the driver's seat, beaming at his master.

Spike climbed into the passenger's side, Buffy on his lap as they sped off.

"Where to, Master?" Dalton asked, glancing at the Slayer worriedly. He'd met her on a few different occasions when Spike had had messages for her. She'd been very cordial... he'd hate to see her die again.

"To her Watcher's house." Spike looked down at Buffy. She was awake, but didn't seem focused on anything in particular.

"Spike?" She looked at him, eyes glazed. "Does this mean I'm your third?"

"Third what, Luv?"

"Slayer. I am dead. So... would I be the third? Or would I be the third after I'm gone for good?"

"How'd you know about the others?" Spike frowned. He'd always kept that from her. Funny, he'd always been so proud he'd killed two slayers. Then he met her. He'd never felt such overwhelming guilt in his entire life.

"Giles told me. He researched you after that first time you helped me."

"I dunno, Pet. I guess it would. Hadn't given that much though. I just did what I had to do to keep you with me."