Disclaimer: I own nothing, least of all the characters mentioned in this fanfic. They are all owned (with the exception of
Diabolique) by Joss. I didn't make up the name 'Diabolique', I got it off a preview for a movie I never saw. Oh, yeah, and I
quote a little from the musical "Les Miserables". It's wonderful. I didn't write it. The song is by Alain Boublil, Claude-Michel
Schronberg, and Herbie Kretzmer.



"I'm torn between a clever retort and the pleasure of hitting you over the head."

--Yvonne's daily notes



Diabolique's scowl to the quivering female was indeed terrifying. With a cold look, she held the summons up in front of her face
and calmly ripped it in two, her superior attitude daring contradiction. Tossing the pieces on the floor, she flipped her tight braid
over her shoulder and silently stared at the messanger.

The other angel shivered, but she had been chosen for her strength to withstand the terrible gaze, so she summoned her courage
and tried to hide her flinch. "Transfer effective immediately. Your replacement is on his way, so please do not linger." Her voice
trembled a little, but she stood her ground.

The dark angel's voice was ice. "This is where I work. This is what I do. You've tried to change me, make me all pastels and
pink and whatnot, but it hasn't worked, and now I just want to be left alone."

The other lady took a deep breath and swallowed her fear. "It's final. Take the assignment. Go now." The force of her words
was negated by the trembling of her voice

Oh, please, she mimicked in her mind. Don't let the scary girl hurt me! Diabolique crossed her arms angrily. "There are
twenty other people that I can think of off the top of my head who would be much better for this crappy job than me,"--oh, did
she enjoy the other girl's flinch at her vulgar language!--"so go grace their space and leave me alone!" She paused for a moment,
mentally reviewing what she had just said. Rhyming? Oy. I need to get out more.

The lady messanger was suprisingly resilient. "No. You are the only one. You will report down there ASAP."

Swearing a little more, not quite under her breath, Diabolique thought about this suprising turn of events for a moment. "Why
me?" she finally asked.

"Why any of us?" The lady couldn't meet her eyes. "No one else wanted to. No one else can."

Diabolique twitched. "Anyone else can. Thank you, but I have to decline your kind offer."

Frustrated, the lady threw up her hands. "Your mother would!"

The deceptively relaxed body posture stiffened. "My mother's not here. I am."

"Why can't you be more like her? Less abrasive, more accepting? She should be here, not y--" She covered her mouth with her
hand as she realized her error. "Oh, no! I didn't mean--"

Diabolique began to walk away from her old job and life--forever. "Yes," she declared softly, suddenly tired beyond belief.
"Yes, you did."



Buffy looked around nervously. Something didn't feel right. She had slain three vampires, stopped a demon from flooding the
city, and saved Giles from falling flat on his face in the library twice without breaking a sweat or a nail, but now... now there was
something else, almost a presence. She looked around, still not seeing anything. Of course, Xander had broken the principle rule
of adventurous lives just this evening: Never, ever say how boring life is. Never talk about needing excitement. Hello, Slayer
here! Doesn't he get enough?

There was a tingling in her abdomen, and she whirled around. On a gravestone in the quiet cemetary sat a solitary girl about her
age, wearing loose blue jeans with holes in the knees and a teal, fitted, yet not tight, t-shirt.

"So..." The girl toyed a little with the end of her high-ponytail braid.

Respect the dead much? Buffy sighed in relief. "You shouldn't be out so late. It's dangerous."

The girl seemed unfazed. "You're out late."

Buffy looked around her, still looking for the source of the tingles. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" the strange girl asked, eyes dissecting her. "You're Buffy Summers, right? The Slayer?" Buffy gave her a faked blank
look. "You know, the Vampire Slayer? 'For every generation there a slayer. She alone can fight the--'"

"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, feeling slightly squeamish. She advanced on the petite girl.

The girl ignored the last question. "Well, you haven't exactly made yourself secret. What do you say to people, 'Hi, I'm Buffy the
Vampire Slayer. I'm the one out of my generation chosen to slay vampires. By the way, did I mention that I live on the
Hellmouth?' Can we not say 'secret identity', or we just stupid?"

The Slayer assumed fighting stance. "What do you want? Who are you?"

The girl seemed to think about this for a few minutes. "A vampire," she finally decided on. "I'm a vampire."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "No offence, but you are seriously not giving off vampire vibes."

The girl's face suddenly contorted into the hunting face of a vampire, and with a snarl, she assumed fighting stance also. "Boo."

Buffy pulled out a stake, ready to slay the girl. With a flip, however, the girl was behind Buffy. The Slayer turned around and
threw a well-placed punch at the vamp's face. However, the vamp-girl stepped neatly to the side and blocked easily. With her
out-stretched arm, she twisted Buffy's fist behind her back and flipped the Slayer over. Skipping away, she sat on a nearby
tombstone. "Why did you try to stake me?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

Buffy, disbelieving, stood up and grabbed her stake, not taking her eyes off the girl. "I'm the Vampire Slayer, remember? It's
what I do."

The girl looked at her, easily meeting her eyes. "You let Angelous live."

Buffy kicked at the girl, who once again flipped out of the way. "You're not Angel."

"How do you know I'm a vampire?"

The question obviously took Buffy by surprise as she spun around to once again face the odd vampire. "You have a game face.
You told me you were." What's this wacko-kid's problem?

"I could've been lying. If you believe everything that everyone tells you, you're in worse shape than I thought."

"I'll take my chances with you as the vamp and me as the Slayer, capishe?"

The girl rubbed her temples. "Good grief. Look, trust your gut, not your butt... or is it brain? I can't seem to tell the diff."

Buffy glared at the girl's sarcasm. "Hey! I have a cute butt!" She lunged forward, only to be lunging into air as the girl/vamp
sidestepped and flipped backwards.

"Ehhh, try again! This time, look for subtle inconsistancies in me. And, reading your Spider sense should help, O Eternally
Clueless One."

As the girl moved, Buffy noticed a small, gold cross dangling from a thin, delicate chain at the other's throat. That and the
realization that her "Spider Sense" wasn't going haywire induced her to put the stake back. She didn't, however, relax her guard.
"A demon, then. Bring it on."

Suddenly, Angel burst through the trees. "Buffy, I heard you fighting... You!" he cried, taking sight of the girl. "What are you
doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you too, Ang. Yes, yes, I'm fine. No, don't get up, I'll be fine."

Buffy glanced at Angel. "Friend of yours?"

The girl sauntered over to Angel. "Nice girlfriend. A little low on the wattage, but, hey, that's what the Watcher's for." The girl
was acting casual and friendly. Too friendly, according to Buffy.

"Who are you? What are you? What do you want?"

The girl tipped her imaginary hat and made an exaggerated bow. "The name's Bond. James Bond. I'll be seeing ya." She walked
away, fading into the shadows.

Angel turned to Buffy. "What did she say to you? Did she try to get you to come with her? Did she touch you?"

Buffy was still upset by the insult to her intelligence. "What the hell was that all about? She just turned into a vampire and then
tried to convince me that she wasn't one!"

Angel grabbed her shoulders tightly, a little panic in his eye. "Buffy, did she touch you?"

A little surprised at the intensity, Buffy answered the question. "No. Why?"

Angel was almost relieved. "So, nothing about, oh, um... 'Come with me, where chains will ne'er bind you. All your grief, at last,
at last, behind you'?"

Buffy frowned. "That sounds like some kinda song or something."

That's because she copied it. Angel sighed. "So, that doesn't ring any bells?"

Buffy shook her head. "The bells are silent. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

"You wouldn't be holding back, would you? I'm not gonna die again, am I?"

Angel paused. "Not if I can help it." Leaning over, he kissed her tenderly.



The door swung closed as Angel entered his apartment. "Well," came a voice from the dark, "you certainly were friendly. No,
'Hi, how are you? Let me take your coat. Nice weather, huh?' Nope, you just dispensed with the formalities all together."
Nevermind that she didn't have a coat.

Angel flipped on the light, revealing the cross lady on his couch. "Diabolique."

"Why, yes, that _is_ my name. Not, 'hey, you' or 'Buffyareyouokay' or 'Whatdoyouthinkyou'redoing'. Just plain, simple, boring,
completely worthless Diabolique. Have a seat on the couch. I still don't bite."

Angel sat. "Stay away from Buffy. It's not her time yet."

"I'm not going to take your precious slayer yet. But when her time comes... I'll be there to see it happens."

"Diab--"

"Look, you've never liked my work, okay?" she snapped. Softening her tone, she continued gently, "But you promised that you
wouldn't let it interfere with our relationship." She lay her hand on his arm. "You're my friend. Quite possibly the only one I have.
Please, let's not argue."

Angel looked at his hands. "I guess. I just think--"

"Don't. It's not good for you to think too much. Your brains will rust. I speak from experience."

Angel smiled faintly, though worry lines still hovered around his face. "I've never known you to play with your victims before. I
thought you were above that. I guess I was wrong."

"Now, now," Diabolique scolded gently, "Victim is such a harsh word... I prefer 'protege' or 'student' or 'worshipper'... you're
not laughing. Good Lord, you're not even smiling. I think you're serious. You're actually serious. You mean those horrible
things! Are you serious?"

"Look, I know you have your job to do, and I respect that and all, but you know I'm not going to let you take Buffy from me."

"She'll always be in your heart." Angel glared at her. "Okay, sue me. I've never been sweet and nice and all that crap, but don't
worry. She'll live to see tommorrow, if I have any say in it. Besides, isn't this romance a little star-crossed? I mean, come on,
vampire meets Slayer, one kills the other, life goes on..."

"You've changed. You didn't used to be heartless." Angel was using his pittying tone, and that really cheesed Diabolique off.

"You've changed, too! You didn't used to be stupid!" She sighed, looking at her watch. "We've never fought before, huh.
Namesake--"

"Don't call me that!" he snapped.

"Fine, Angelous." She spat his name like a taunt and stood up, frustrated. "I had a nice visit. I'll be seeing you." Quickly, she
walked towards the door, letting herself out noiselessly. Angel watched as she left, unsure of what to say. "I'll be seeing you."



Buffy crawled lethargically into bed, not sure if she could wait until she were actually laying down to sleep. Plopping down, she
finally gave up her struggle to pull the covers back from her bed and slept. Unseen in the shadows, Diabolique watched silently
as the Slayer slept. Then, when she was certain the teen was asleep, she gently pulled the covers up around Buffy and tucked
her in, almost motherly. "Sleep safely," she whispered. "Sleep."


As Buffy came down the hall in school the next day, Giles practically jumped out of nowhere and assailed her. "Buffy!" he cried.
"Did you prehaps... um... can I talk to you in the library?"

Buffy looked at him, a little wierded out. "Um, sure Giles, I guess..." They headed to the library, him setting the pace at grueling.

As he pulled her into the library, she dropped back stubbornly. "Okay, Giles," she said, crossing to the table and sitting on it.
"What's on your mind that's so deathly important that you had to yank me away from physics? Whatever it is, it deserves top
priority. Feel free to take a couple hours."

Giles looked around nervously. "Well, I was going through the texts last night, and, uh, I, um, came across something..." He
hurridly flipped through one of his big books.

Buffy looked annoyed. "Okay, what is it? Spill, Giles."

"Well, uh, did you meet anyone last night? While you were slaying, I mean?"

"Just the usual baddies, Angel... oh, yeah, there was one wierd happening." Buffy played with a strand of her hair
absentmindedly. "There was this one really wierd girl... she tried to convince me that she was or wasn't a vampire, or something
like that. When Angel came though, she went all friendly and left."

"Did she, um, try to convince you to come with her?"

"You mean, did she pull her van with darkened windows over next to me and offer me candy?"

Giles gave her a blank look. "Um... not exactly."

Buffy shook her head. "Angel asked the same thing. Why?"

Giles rubbed his neck, deep in thought. "Oh... hmm... odd... Maybe I translated incorrectly..."

Buffy cocked her head. "Why? What'd ya think?"

"Oh, it, uh, just said some, uh, things about, uh... maybe it's the year... the text is quite old..."

"Hum-hmm, look, Giles, is this gonna turn out to be another late night thing? 'Cause I've got... stuff."

Giles saw through her completely. "This, uh, 'stuff' wouldn't happen to involve Angel, would it?"

"Maybe... alright, we have a date, okay?" Giles started to say something. "Look, we'll do a little slaying, and I'll run over the
park and cemetary on my way home."

Giles gave her a nervous look before scribling out a pass to her first hour class. "Well... alright... I guess... just be careful, okay,
Buffy?"

Buffy smiled mischeviously and took the piece of paper. "Gosh, Giles," she sang as she skipped out. "Aren't I always?"

Giles sighed, muttered something unintelligable and turned back to the book. Neither of them noticed a pale-faced girl hiding,
hovering after Buffy, in the shadows.



Angel looked at his watch, worried. Buffy was late, and not even fashionably late anymore. Well, maybe she just got stopped
on the way here; she is the Slayer, and vampires happen... maybe she forgot... maybe she was grounded... no, she'd
call... maybe... maybe... and his thoughts cut off as a harried Diabolique stumbled out of the darkness, sobbing. "Diab--what's
wrong?" He took her into his arms, worried. She never cries.

"I can't find her." She sniffed, burying her head in his chest and clutching the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can't find who?"

"Buffy! Who else?"

He pulled away, snarling. "Of course, still playing your mind games! I'm not going to help you look for her, just so you can kill
her! You're by yourself this time, sailor!"

Tears streamed down her face, making everything blurry. "Angel, no, really, I need your help! I should be able to find her no
matter what, through thick and thin! Dead or alive! In sickness and in health! All that! But she just--she just..." She hiccoughed.
"Just--plip! Gone off the radar! Please, I..." She bowed her head in shame. "I need help."

"Bull!" he snarled, glaring. Shaking his head, he calmed down. "Diab, I can't help you with this. I can't trust you to keep her alive
if--when--you find her. And I can't stop you. Believe me, I've tried."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Go away, Diabolique... and stay away from me and Buffy!"

Diabolique stepped back, letting go of his sleeves. "Fine," she said, sniffing, using her hand to smear the tears away from her
eyes. She swallowed and allowed her stony mask to harden her face. Make me ice. She stalked into the darkness of the night,
clutching a black choker with a red gem on it. "He's always trusted me... before..." she whispered to the night.



Angel watched the figure disappear. Unbeknownst to her, she had upset him more than he wanted to admit. Looking at his
watch once again, he proceeded to wait, becoming more and more anxious, and starting to wonder if he should call Giles. I'll
give her a few more minutes.


Giles sat at his desk, rereading the prophecy once again. "This... uh, it... doesn't make any sense anymore..."

Xander clucked his finger at the Brit in a mother-hen fashion. "You've been studying too hard. You see, that's because you don't
have what the real world calls a life. Take my advice, Giles, and--Giles?" He heard a snore. "Giles? Now he decides to sleep.
Now," he reached into his backpack, "I can get back to the adventures of The Worminator. Best comic book around." He
settled down in a chair, immersed in the comic. "Ooo, scary..."

A figure in ripped jeans and a teal t-shirt slipped silently through the library doors and glided towards the sleeping Giles. Xander
didn't notice, as engrossed in his worm adventures as he was, and so the girl kept walking. Reaching Giles, she pulled one of the
heavy tombes off the desk and set it softly on the desk. Opening it, Diabolique quietly thumbed through the giant book until she
came to a certain chapter, where she commenced scanning the huge pages for information. She turned a couple pages, and they
fluttered noiselessly down. On the next page, however, she found something interesting... and horrifying. She began to mouth the
words silently as she read, more in fear than habit.

'The One who Slayeth

And the One who Killeth

Will surely meet,

And one will traceth their sign on

The other, and Time will stop.'

"Damn cryptics," she muttered angrily, "Why can't they just say out and out what's gonna happen?" She turned the page with a
crack, wanting to see the rest of the text.

Xander looked up at the sudden noise, hurridly putting his comic book down. "What the--"

Diabolique froze in mid finger-point following the ancient language, and slowly brown eyes met green.

And smiles of relief broke out.

"You!" they both exclaimed in unison, sighing in happiness as good fortune smiled upon them.

"What are you doing here?" Xander asked loudly.

"Shhhh!" Diabolique hissed, crossing and pulling his arm away from the sleeping librarian. "Do you want to wake Mr.
I-never-sleep-when-the-world-is-ending up before the slight time line of when he'll be awake enough to keep me here or asleep
enough to let me go?"

"Ow!" Xander rubbed his arm. "Be careful with the merchandise. I happen to be considered pretty expensive equipment
nowadays."

"Uh huh."

"What are you doing here?" he asked again, more quietly this time.

She glanced around nervously. "Buffy's in trouble. I needed to do research."

"Buffy's in trouble? What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"What do we do?"

"I dunno."

"What do you know?"

"Buffy's in trouble."

"Great!" Xander exclaimed, more sarcastic than he meant to be. "That just about covers the basics."

She gave him a pitying glance. "I _said_ I needed to do reseach."

Xander looked around, thinking. "Does Angel know?" he asked, not sure of what to do.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her warm, innocent demeanor suddenly turning cool. "We decided to work separately on
this venture."

Xander blinked in suprise. "But... I always thought that you two were, you know, best buds or something."

"Or something," she echoed dryly. "But, I don't have time for this. I need to finish reading my passage before I go out to look
for Buffy again."

"That won't be nessecary," an extremely agitated British voice spoke up. "We'll find Buffy on our own."

Xander and Diabolique both whirled around to face Giles, who was now standing in front of his desk. "What do you mean?"
Xander asked. "She just wants to help. She's with Angel. You know, in a friendly sorta way."

"Yeah, I just want to help," she echoed mock-meekly.

"I'm sure," the Watcher told them in an angry tone. "Xander, step away from her."

"Why?" he inquired, curious and frightened by Giles' mood.

"She's going to kill Buffy."

Xander stepped away from her. "But, she's my friend. This is a very cool chick."

Giles frowned, not impressed. "Xander, may I say that your taste in women is rather, uh... well, uh, first there was the preying
mantis, and then there was the mummy..."

Xander winced. "All right already, all right, you've made your point. No need to rub the proverbial salt in the wound... But she's
not like them. She saved my life."

"She's dangerous... according the prophecys I've found, she, ah, can't be allowed around Buffy."

"I think she's trustworthy!"

Giles glared at him, then looked to where the girl was standing, watching the fight.

Or, rather, had been.