DISCLAIMER : All Buffy : The Vampire Slayer and ANGEL characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. No copyright intended and no profit gained on the part of the author. Jenny and Denton are my own creations.
PG-13. SUMMARY : Jenny is an ordinary Vampire Slayer with ordinary parents. Or are they?
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Jenny the Vampire Slayer
'Family Affairs'
It was an ordinary spring night in Sunnydale. Like all small towns, the people were friendly and even at night people walked the streets alone. It was the kind of town where all the lawns were neatly cut and trees lined the streets. It was so like the setting of a bad horror movie that it wasn't the least bit scary, not even at night. Even its name was decidedly unlikely to strike fear into the hearts of its residents. Things were peaceful. There had been a few exceptions, of course. Almost eighty years ago a large portion of the town had been buried in a large earthquake and twenty years ago a bunch of juvenile delinquents used a rocket launcher in a shopping mall but these were one time events. Hardly worth mentioning really.
Then again there are all those mysterious disappearances and deaths in the playgrounds and in Sunnydale's oldest nightclub, The Bronze. As long as you were sensible, you were safe. After an explosion demolished the old highschool, Sunnydale High had needed rebuilding. New Sunnydale High was getting old, the equipment becoming outdated. Even the cyclone fence that had been erected around the new school was getting holes in it. It wasn't very clear whether the fence was to keep the children in or to keep other things out but these days it did neither very well.
On this extraordinarily normal spring night, two small children tumbled through the gaps easily and kept on running. They could hear the rattling as their pursuers paused to widen the holes. The noise stopped. No footsteps could be heard but the children knew they were still being followed. This was no game. They were not being chased, they were being hunted. By streetlight, the children had seen the faces of these adults. Savage. Cruel shaped ridges drawn over the eyes and jutting out from their faces. Grins of arrogant self-confidence had revealed wicked looking teeth. Vampires.
The children ran on through the highschool, their voices shrill in the night air. Not loud enough to penetrate the boundaries of the park to the nearest house, where Sunnydale residents slumbered peacefully. The most frightening thing was the silence of the pursuit. Any time the children glanced behind them, the vampires had closed the gap a little more. They stared determinedly straight ahead, not willing to watch for the inevitable.
Without a sound, a vampire seized the smaller of the two children by the back of his shirt and lifted him clear of the ground. The elder child, oblivious to her brother's plight, ploughed straight past with the other vampire in silent pursuit. Before the vampire could pierce the skin of the boy's neck, the vampire jerked and crumpled to the ground. The boy began to run almost before his feet hit the ground. The child sprinted across the road to the nearest house.
The second vampire paused in its pursuit to face the child's rescuer. There she stood, dark hair curled about her face, every muscle proud and energised. The Slayer. As the vampire lunged at her, she easily avoided his reaching hands and drove a stake into his heart. The vampire widened his eyes in surprise, his mouth forming a silent 'oh'. He exploded into dust and ashes. As undead, vampires only got one final death. The second time they died there was little to mark their passing. The Slayer wiped the ash clinging to her clothing and turned to the vampire she'd kicked earlier.
The vampire gazed at the Slayer who was slightly taller than him but much thinner. He took in her battle ready stance and her intense concentration and made the sensible decision. He ran. Failing to hide her smug satisfaction at such a reaction, the slayer slipped a stake from the sleeve of her jacket and let it fly. The stake turned end over end in the air before the point buried itself in the vampire's chest. The vampire was soon reduced to nothing more than ash. As the young Slayer turned to go, a whimper wafted across the school grounds.
The Slayer spun and weaved her way deeper into the schoolgrounds, searching for the girl. The moaning cries drew her towards the far side of the school, where the roof tiles were missing and the remains of glass beer bottles littered the patchy grass. Next to the rubbish bins, by the steps of the music department, stood a striking blond vampire. The girl was slumped in his arms, blood spotted across his lips. Sensing her presence, the vampire looked up. Not even the fangs and eye ridges could disguise the smug expression or the delicate cheekbones that faced her. The vampire let the child's body slump to the ground like nothing more than a sack of potatoes. It was clear that it was too late to save the child and the Slayer hesitated. This vampire did not seem to be your average dullwitted demon. There was intelligence in those deathly beautiful eyes. Even his clothes caught your attention.
His long black leather jacket contrasted with a red unbuttoned shirt and the black polo shirt beneath that. His hair was a bleached pale blond and a scar ran across one delicate eyebrow. He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip, studying the Slayer before him. Obviously deciding he liked what he saw, he broke into a dangerous grin.
"Hello cutie," the vampire broke out in an English accent. "So you would be the new Slayer, then?"
"I would," the Slayer answered cautiously, unmoving.
The vampire smiled again and slowly, deliberately looked her up and down. He cocked his head and raised his hand to his chin, as if trying to decide something.
"Look at you, now, all dressed up and ready to play with the big people, huh, pet?"
The Slayer stiffened, "Don't call me pet."
"Then what do I call you, cutie?" continued the vampire. "Not that I really care, I mean I don't really feature you hanging around that long. Know what I mean?"
"It's Jenny and yeah, I know what you mean. I don't expect you to be hanging around that long either," answered the Slayer icily.
The vampire grinned mischieviously at her, "Right then, shall we get on with it, pet?"
"That's just fine with..." the Slayer began.
The vampire leapt forward with the inhuman speed of his kind and kneed her in the side of the head. Stunned by the attack, Jenny fell backwards, knocking the rubbish bins to the ground. Rolling bodily over the piles of trash, the Slayer flipped smoothly to her feet.
The vampire was watching her intently and the Slayer followed his gaze to her arm. A dampness had begun to seep through the material of the jacket. A few seconds later, the pain of a deep cut registered to her adrenelin charged body. The Slayer looked quickly to the rubbish, easily spotting the broken glass she must have rolled over. When the Slayer turned back to the vampire, she was shocked to find herself face to face with the vampire.
"Who are you?" Jenny demanded, staring unflinchingly into those eyes.
"Well, pet," answered the vampire, unhurriedly. "Most would call me Spike."
He lunged at her but she ducked beneath him. Spike seized her arm and used her momentum to swing her back into the rubbish bins.
Jenny flipped to her feet and then somersaulted over Spike's head. Spike advanced slowly and Jenny backed off. Her arm had begun to throb by now and her world was beginning to spin. Jenny's hand groped about her neck and snagged the chain she wore about it. With a tug she pulled it free and tossed it to Spike. Then she was running, hearing Spike's yelp of pain behind her.
After the Slayer had fled, Spike stood clutching his palm where he'd been burned. He snarled and kicked the small golden cross that he'd caught before he'd seen what it was. For some reason it seemed oddly familiar. The force of Spike's kick sent the cross flying onto the Music Department's verandah. Seething, Spike stalked off into the night.
***
Jenny trudged wearily up the path to the Art Gallery that had been opened by her grandmother. Behind the gallery was a small flat where the gallery's current owner, Denton, lived. The paintings and sculptures had originally lured Jenny here but now the owner was more than a friend to Jenny. Now, he was her Watcher. The one who trained and prepared young women for a short but hopefully destructive career. Jenny leant heavily on the doorbell. The door opened almost instantly, as if she was expected. The forty year old who answered had a British accent so reminiscent of Spike, she had to supress a shudder.
"Jenny, you're... good grief, girl. What happened?"
The last was more a command than an inquiry.
"New vampire in town," Jenny offered weakly.
He ushered her inside and steered her to a chair. She sat down rather heavily, the chair creaking even with her slight weight. He began to peel off her jacket and shirt. She sat there, slightly numb but mostly miserable.
"Fangs did this?"
"No. There was glass."
"I see."
Denton finished bandaging her arm and stood back to look at her.
"Want to tell me about this new vampire?" he asked gently.
"Goes by the name of Spike, very British and very bad."
"I see."
"He's smart...," Jenny yawned.
"It's almost morning," Denton told her. "You can fill me in later. In the meantime, get some sleep. In any case, you ought to get home before your father checks on you and realises you aren't there."
"Why?" asked Jenny. "What's the time?"
"About four in the morning."
Yawning again, Jenny nodded in agreement.
***
Wincing at the pain in her arm, Jenny scrambled up to her second floor window. She froze, hand outstretched to the windowsill. She could see a silhouette in her room. Once more, her throat tightened in annoyance that her father felt the need to check on her every night when he came home. As if she'd vanish during the night. Then it occured to her that she'd done just that - vanished from her room in the middle of the night. And for what? So that she could get herself beaten up by a vampire?
She recognised her father by the wide shoulders and stance. He turned to face her, saw her out on the ledge. She swallowed. Her father motioned for her to come in. Almost as if she expected a death sentence, she climbed over the windowsill.
He said nothing.
She said nothing.
He took her bag of equipment from her and placed it under her bed. He didn't seem to register the metallic sound it made and part of Jenny's mind dimly wondered how her father knew where she kept her equipment bag.
Jenny sat on the bed, expecting the yelling and screaming to begin. Her father walked towards her and seemed about to say something. Instead he just shook his head in resignation and knelt in front of her. Undoing her shoes. He pulled off her socks and took off her jacket, barely blinking at the sight of the blood stained bandage. He pushed her gently down into her bed and tucked her in. He kissed her gently on the forehead, turned and walked out of the room. Jenny was left staring at the ceiling, her arm throbbing. She felt as if she should have had an argument. But she hadn't. Somehow it was a bit of an anticlimax. Things would explode in the morning, she reassured herself as she relaxed her tired muscles into sleep.
***
When Jenny woke, her hair was ruffled and the clothes she'd fallen asleep in were rumpled. She slid out of bed and got dressed, taking a careful look at her arm. She edged slowly down the hall and stubbed her toe on something in the dim light. Almost smothered in curtains, the house was always dark during the day. Ironically the Slayer's father had a rare eye condition that made bright light painful to him. So he stayed inside during the day and only went out at night. Traditionally, night was a time for family. Her father would always try and make up for all the school productions and picnics he'd had to miss. They'd go out together and play, walk in the parks and just be together. Jenny's father always listened to her but when she'd learned of her calling to slay vampires, her nights were now usually spent fighting for her life. It meant less time to spend with her father and he was beginning to get annoyed by her constant excuses. It made her feel hollow inside that she had to keep such a big part of her life secret but anonymity was a Slayer's first line of defense. She couldn't tell him, no matter how much she wanted to.
She felt down on the ground to see what she'd kicked. The wastepaper basket that usually stood by her parents room was lying on it's side. The flimsy plastic had been dented although Jenny was sure she hadn't kicked it that hard. Sometimes a Slayer really didn't know her own strength. The contents of the bin had been strewn along the ground. Sighing, she uprighted the bin and began to refill it. Drawing closer to the top of the staircase, she could hear a low murmuring. Jenny peered over the edge to see her parents talking, arguing.
Her father was surprisingly gentle for a man his size. His hair and eyes were dark although his skin was fair and strangely cool to the touch. At all times he carried an air of graceful silence, a complete contrast to the whirlwind that was Jenny's mother. Her mother was small, blonde, extremely athletic and constantly moving. At the moment, Jenny's mother was dressed in tightfitting sports clothes with her hair tucked up into a bun. No doubt she was off to teach another rowdy collection of teenagers how to defend themselves from muggers and dirty old men. Bitterly Jenny reflected that it was too bad that her mother's self defence classes didn't teach how to defend yourself from the supernatural. Not that anyone but the Slayer, the one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, could go as far as to kill them.
Her mother was gesturing wildly with her hands while her father was listening calmly.
"...why didn't you yell at her?" her mother demanded.
"I didn't want to scare her off," said her father, trying to calm her down.
"I'd have done a hell of a lot more than scare her off."
"Buffy, when your mother found out you ran away from home."
"What would you know about that? You weren't even..."
Her mother broke off as they noticed Jenny listening.
"You know what?" Her mother turned to her father. "I have to go."
Ignoring Jenny, her mother marched resolutely out the door.
Her father closed the front door behind her and turned to smile at Jenny. The way the smile failed to reach his eyes told Jenny all she needed to know. Wordlessly she followed him into the kitchen. He brought a covered plate out of the microwave and sat it in front of her. She unwrapped it to find a stack of pancakes. Her father loved to cook for her and sometimes he'd get bored during the day, all alone in the house. Her mother's favorite story was the one where Jenny's grandmother left a recipe book at the house and they came home to five course meal. Silently Jenny ate her pancakes, skewering them vigorously on the end of her fork. Her father watched her silently across the table.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked her, leaning forward across the bench.
Jenny jumped, "What?"
"It's just your mother used to sneak out of her window so that we could... you know."
"Make out? Wow, that was more than I needed to know," muttered Jenny, returning to her pancakes. She smiled quietly to herself. Parents, what can you do with 'em? Her father was still staring at her, waiting for a reply.
"No," she reassured him. "There's no boyfriend, I just... there was this party and I didn't think you'd let me go. It was outside and there was broken glass."
She looked back up at him, indicating her arm. Did he believe that? She couldn't tell.
***
Denton looked up from the papers he was shuffling at the sound of the doorbell.
"Coming," he called.
He put his hand on the deadbolt. "Who is it?"
"Um, there was like this traffic accident," began a voice with an English accent. "And could I use your phone to call for an ambulance?"
"Of course," answered Denton, quickly. "Come in."
He undid the deadbolt and opened the door. A cloaked figure grinned at him.
"Thank you so much for inviting me into your home..."
***
As Jenny passed the school cafeteria a hand reached out to snag her sore arm, making her wince.
"Jenny, do you have a moment?" asked a soft voice.
Dr Rosenberg stood behind her. Apart from being one of the nicest teachers in the school, Dr Willow Rosenberg was a good friend of Jenny's mother. She often helped tutor Jenny for free if she ever had any trouble with schoolwork.
"Morning," nodded Jenny, rubbing her arm. "And yes, I do have a moment. A couple, even."
"I was wondering if you'd lost this?" asked Dr Rosenberg, opening her hand.
Laying on the palm of her hand was a golden cross on a chain. The one she'd thrown at Spike.
"It's just that since it used to belong to your mother, I thought you might want it back. One of the children found it outside by the music department."
"Thankyou Dr Rosenberg."
***
She had wanted it back, Jenny realised later as she brushed a vampire's ashes from her clothing. She walked solemnly through the graveyard, tightly enveloped in her own thoughts. And it wasn't all she wanted back. She wanted a normal life again. Denton had only come to her three months ago. Her mother had given her some self defence training but it was nothing compared to the rigorous programme that Denton insisted she follow. Between the training and the slaying and the lying and the losing, tearing or blood staining of her clothes, she had so little of her own life left. The cross was more than just a defense against the supernatural.
All Jenny's earliest memories of her mother, were of her wearing that cross. When Jenny was nine, her school class went on camp for the first time. They went for four days and Jenny had never been away from her parents for more than a couple of hours. Her mother took her in her arms and put the cross around her neck.
"Now part of me's always with you. The cross'll keep you safe, even when I can't."
Ironically, the cross had saved her from vampires more times than she could count. That thought turned her mind to thoughts of Spike. Spike could be a problem. If he had come to stay...
Jenny would have to improve her technique. Maybe he wasn't as tough as he had first appeared. She had been injured by the glass, disadvantaged before the fight had even begun. Spike hadn't been responsible for that, he'd just taken advantage. She would face him again when she was recovered. There was a small sound behind her in the graveyard and she whipped around. There was nothing there. She moved on, keeping alert for a sudden attack.
Hidden from Jenny's sight behind a headstone, a vampire exploded into dust. Jenny's father stood, brushing the ashes off his coat. He turned to watch his only daughter move through the graveyard, his eyes glowing dully beneath eye ridges. His soft lips dragged across his sharpened fangs. He moved forward again so stealthily not even the Slayer could hear him.
***
Jenny's patrol was not very fruitful that night. It was totally lacking in fruit, not to mention vampires. Disgruntled and not to mention bored, she returned home. She snuck down into the kitchen, needing a cup of tea before she could sleep. Sighing, Jenny removed the empty milk carton from the fridge. It looked like her mother had forgotten to do the grocery shopping. Again. Jenny really needed a cup of tea. Whenever she patrolled her whole body came awake. Trying to just fall asleep afterwards, unless she was exhausted, had proved impossible without a cup of tea to relax her. She remembered then that her parents kept a small portable fridge in the bottom of their wardrobe. They thought she didn't know about it but she'd discovered it one year while searching for her Christmas presents in advance. Not that she was in the habit of raiding her parents room. Not every year, anyway.
They might have milk in there. Actually it was more likely they were hiding an alcohol addiction in there but it couldn't hurt to take a peep. Just a little one. She crept into her parents bedroom. Her mother was still at a self defence class and her father... was out with friends. Oddly enough, she knew most of her mothers friends - Dr Rosenberg, Tara, Xander, Anya and this really old guy named Giles - but she couldn't think of any of her father's friends. Whenever his messages came from work, they were left by either someone by the name of Cordelia or Wesley. She didn't know if her father considered them friends. He had never mentioned them so she supposed not.
Jenny tiptoed into her parents room. Maybe it was the noise the carpet made as she walked across it. Maybe the creak as she opened their wardrobe door. For whatever reason, Jenny didn't hear the front door open. Oblivious, she knelt by the fridge and opened the door. The fridge was almost empty but for a plastic bag and a thermos flask. Beneath the doubled layers of the plastic bag, Jenny could just make out a reddish tinge. There was no milk and she should have shut the fridge right then. But her parents weren't home, they wouldn't know. She picked up the plastic bag and found it flexible - like an icepack filled with jelly. She slipped the contents into her lap. She blinked at the packets of blood. They were each labelled with little yellow tags. Sunnydale Hospital. What did her parents want with out of blood? There was a sound out in the hall of keys hitting a table. Jenny panicked. She stuffed the packets back into the bag and shoved them back in the fridge.
As she was crossing the room, her mother appeared in the doorway. Seeing Jenny, her mother stopped and crossed her arms. Jenny recognised the her mother's classic 'battle-stance' and prepared herself for the oncoming train that was her mother.
"What exactly is going on, Jennifer Anne Summers?"
Jenny was surprised by the anger in her mother's voice.
"I can look after myself you know, I'm not required by law to tell you everything."
"Forget everything, how about anything? You know how patient your father can be. After checking on you last night, you should have seen what he did to our wastepaper basket! I'm going to have to replace it."
Jenny opened her mouth to explain but her mother continued.
"If you could be even a little bit more responsible. I can't believe you've been galavanting off around town without telling us. Behind our backs - that's lying, Jenny."
"I have not been galavanting," erupted Jenny. "At no time have I ever galavanted. Ask anyone."
"Ask who? I don't know any of your friends, you never bring them home."
"Course I know all of yours. They're always here or you're always..."
Jenny's mother looked as if she'd been stung, then Jenny could almost hear the snap as her mother's patience broke.
"You're old enough to look after yourself, obviously. Don't need me around, oh no..."
Her mother stormed out of the room and thudded down the stairs, still muttering. The front door slammed and the car started. Jenny walked into the hallway. If only she could defend herself properly. Get her parents to understand that every night she was out risking her life, getting nothing in exchange. Her temper flared and she kicked the abused wastepaper basket. It made a satifying thud and propelled a ball of paper all the way to her bedroom door. She certainly didn't get much sleep that night.
***
Dr Rosenberg looked up from grading papers at the pounding on the door. Tara walked by her to answer it.
"Buffy. Hi. Do you want to come in... talk to Willow?"
There was an inaudible answer.
"I... ah... I'll get Willow."
Dr Rosenberg moved to join Tara at the door.
"Will?" Buffy asked.
Her tearful expression gave Dr Rosenberg her cue to take on her role as best friend.
"Buffy, come in."
***
A couple of streets away, Jenny sat on her bed, preparing for the night's patrol. Her mother had not returned that day but Dr Rosenberg had called to let Jenny know that she was at their house. Her father hadn't exactly ignored her but had rushed to Dr Rosenberg's as soon as the sun was down. So Jenny had pulled her equipment bag out from under her bed and plunked it beside her. All her homemade stakes were strewn across the bed, getting a good sharpening with a knife. Jenny swept the wood shavings into her hand and headed to the waste basket near her door. She froze in midstride. Her father stood in the doorway, watching her. Her mind raced. Okay, why am I sharpening wooden stakes? Do I have a friend who works in a garden nursery...?
"You're the new Slayer?" he asked, sounding resigned.
"What? Come again..." Jenny stammered. Her father wasn't suppossed to know that, he didn't even know that vampires existed.
"You're Faith's replacement. When she died, we figured there'd be a new Slayer in town," he continued.
Jenny raised her eyebrows. Okay, now things were getting a little too creepy.
"I just didn't think it'd be so close to home."
Jenny found her voice again, "Well, I didn't exactly choose it. It chose me."
Her father nodded as if this was obvious. His expression turned slightly thoughtful.
"You know," he said. "I think I should have a talk with your watcher. No offence but your reaction time is slow. Mind you, you've only been Slaying for three months."
At the reference to her watcher, her brain jogged back into gear.
"How do you know about the Slayer, Dad?"
As he began his evasive answer something gnawed at the back of her brain.
Blood in the fridge. Curtains on the windows.
Jenny swung her hand behind her reaching for her slaying gear but the bag slipped off the bed, scattering the contents. Her father came into the room and began to gather her equipment up. He picked up the stakes, the knives and the bottles of holywater. Jenny tried to ignore the way he avoided touching the garlic and the crosses. Jenny tried desperately to ignore the small part of her which was stating the obvious, her heart begining to beat out of control.
Jenny crouched beside her father and met his eyes hesitantly, then she looked past him. At the mirror. At her reflection. At the total lack of her father's reflection. He realised what she was looking at and turned to meet her gaze.
"That's how you know," she told him quietly.
"You're still my daughter."
"Vampires don't get to have little vampires. Says so in the Slayer handbook."
Her father looked away. His completely calm demeanour was the same as it had always been but now there was a definite storm brewing. Jenny kicked out, catching him in the head. Even as his head was being flung backwards, his foot was shooting out. He caught Jenny in the stomach, throwing her backwards onto her bed. Her momentum carried her across it and off the other side. She flipped back to her feet but her father had gone. Jenny looked around miserably and walked out into the hall, feeling an intense need to pulverise the wastepaper basket.
***
Her father was a vampire. She had no idea how long it had been so, with his eye condition he had a perfect excuse for keeping away from direct sunlight. Hiding in plain sight, as it were. He could have become a vampire tonight, last night, the day before when he was arguing with her mother. Her mother. Seized by a new rush of fear, Jenny snatched up her equipment bag and sprinted down the stairs and across the lawn. Her only coherent thought was to find her mother, protect her from the vampire that was now part of their family.
In her panic, she wasn't concentrating for the unnaturally quiet sounds that fall over streets where vampires prowl. Hands deep in his pockets, Spike stepped from the shadows to follow the new Slayer at a safe distance. Not that he couldn't beat her to a bloody pulp but sometimes it was so much more fun to lure them to quiet places where they could scream without fear of interruption. Then Spike realised how corny that thought had sounded.
Bloody hell, I'm almost starting to sound like Angelus...
He continued over the gravel, over the grass and cement with the unnatural silence of his kind. No fun stalking someone if they can hear you coming.
***
By now Jenny was pressing insistently on Denton's doorbell. Why doesn't he answer? She pounded on the door until the wood started to splinter. There was a thud and then Denton was peering through the door.
"Yeah?" he demanded, only his eye visible through the open door.
"Can I come in?" Jenny asked, wondering what Denton had been up to. And what was that smell?
"Ah, yeah," replied Denton in a monotone.
Jenny began to talk, "I'm glad you're alright. Some really big stuff has happened and I was worried that something has happened to you..."
Jenny paused, her gaze fixed behind Denton, on the hall mirror. As Denton turned to stare at his own lack of reflection, Jenny delivered a roundhouse to the back of his head. She drew a stake from her sleeve and drove it into Denton's back. As Jenny watched her Watcher explode into dust she stamped her foot angrily.
"Today is so not a good day!"
"Don't mind if I back that up, do you pet?" asked an English accent.
Jenny turned around, straight into Spike's fist.
The force of the punch knocked her backwards across Denton's couch. It was only now that Jenny could see that the room was full of vampires, watching with malicious sneers.
"I hope you don't mind. I sort of felt a need to introduce myself to your watcher," Spike told conversationally.
Jenny flipped up, catching Spike in the head with her legs.
"That's alright, I can do things for myself," shouted Jenny.
She cartwheeled off the couch and faced him. She threw a punch. He blocked it. So she tried again and again. Finally he caught her fist in his and punched her in the stomach. As she doubled over, he hit her across the back and drove his knee into her side. She collapsed breathless and Spike came down on top of her. He caught her struggling arms and grinned wickedly, "Well, a pretty short career. Even for a Slayer."
As he leaned down towards her neck, Jenny registered movement somewhere in the background that not even the other vampires had noticed.
Spike was pulled up and backwards. As Jenny rolled to her feet, her father flattened Spike with an uppercut. As her father advanced again, Spike lashed out at him with a sideways kick. Her father dodged and kicked Spike savagely in the side. One of the other vampires dove at him but her father was ready. Jenny didn't even see the stake in his hand yet still the vamp disintegrated into dust. A vampire came at Jenny and she ducked him and pinned him to the floor. She kicked out at a nearby chair with her foot, smashing the wood into makeshift stakes. She staked the vampire beneath her, before straightening up.
A vampire lunged at her father, throwing him offbalance. In the second of distraction, two more vampires grabbed her father's arms, forcing him to his knees. Sensing he had the upper hand, Spike began to gloat.
"Well, well, if it isn't Angelus," announced Spike. "Hanging around the new Slayer? What's the matter, the old one dump you?"
Her father snarled and knocked down one of the vampire holding him. Spike kicked him in the leg, knocking him back down in turn.
Jenny grabbed a splintered chair leg and took out one of the vamps with a well aimed throw. Grabbing a lamp in one hand and a pair of sewing scissors in the other she advanced. Spike made a move towards her and she smashed him in the head with the lamp. She drove the scissors through the thigh of one of the vamps holding her father. Her father broke free again as Spike kicked the lamp from Jenny's hand. Her father caught Spike's fist as he prepared to strike Jenny, pulling him backwards. More vampires came in from outside. Jenny and her father hesitated, pressing their backs against each other as the vamps circled round them.
"What's the matter, Angel?" taunted Spike, returning to his feet. "No Buffy to save you at the very last..."
The window of the apartment shattered as Jenny's mother cartwheeled through it in her gym clothes. She landed in front of Spike, eyes flashing with anger.
"Wouldn't want to disappoint..." she retorted as she began to lay into Spike.
Jenny and her father only had to finish off a couple more vamps before the remainder ran for their lives. Jenny watched a little numbly as her mother worked out all her stress by beating an immortal undead vampire into a bloody pulp. She shouted the whole time in a tone that Jenny was privately glad she'd never heard before. And some of her teachers accused Jenny of bad language. She didn't even understand what some of those words meant!
"Don't you ever... come near... (ugh)... my family... again!"
She finished by seizing Spike by the collar and hurled him out the window she'd come in by. Spike's none too sturdy footsteps could be heard retreating down the garden path.
Her mother wiped her hands and clothes free of vampire ashes. She turned to face Jenny.
"And that goes for you too," Jenny was told fiercely. "If I ever catch you trying to stake your father..."
"Buffy," her father interupted, breaking out into one of his rare smiles. "I think the warning has already been noted."
Jenny looked her parents up and down quietly for a minute, "Alright, who are you people?"
"You want to tell her?"
"Do you want to?"
"Okay, the story starts about 261 years ago..." began her father, putting his arm around her and steering her out the front door. "There was a man who became a vampire..."
"And there was a young Slayer," added her mother.
"Yes, I was just getting to that..."
And so the Summers family walked off into the night. Two vampire Slayers and a vampire. Ordinary people walking on a quiet, ordinary spring night in Sunnydale - a quiet occasionally punctuated by the screams of disintegrating vampires.
PG-13. SUMMARY : Jenny is an ordinary Vampire Slayer with ordinary parents. Or are they?
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Jenny the Vampire Slayer
'Family Affairs'
It was an ordinary spring night in Sunnydale. Like all small towns, the people were friendly and even at night people walked the streets alone. It was the kind of town where all the lawns were neatly cut and trees lined the streets. It was so like the setting of a bad horror movie that it wasn't the least bit scary, not even at night. Even its name was decidedly unlikely to strike fear into the hearts of its residents. Things were peaceful. There had been a few exceptions, of course. Almost eighty years ago a large portion of the town had been buried in a large earthquake and twenty years ago a bunch of juvenile delinquents used a rocket launcher in a shopping mall but these were one time events. Hardly worth mentioning really.
Then again there are all those mysterious disappearances and deaths in the playgrounds and in Sunnydale's oldest nightclub, The Bronze. As long as you were sensible, you were safe. After an explosion demolished the old highschool, Sunnydale High had needed rebuilding. New Sunnydale High was getting old, the equipment becoming outdated. Even the cyclone fence that had been erected around the new school was getting holes in it. It wasn't very clear whether the fence was to keep the children in or to keep other things out but these days it did neither very well.
On this extraordinarily normal spring night, two small children tumbled through the gaps easily and kept on running. They could hear the rattling as their pursuers paused to widen the holes. The noise stopped. No footsteps could be heard but the children knew they were still being followed. This was no game. They were not being chased, they were being hunted. By streetlight, the children had seen the faces of these adults. Savage. Cruel shaped ridges drawn over the eyes and jutting out from their faces. Grins of arrogant self-confidence had revealed wicked looking teeth. Vampires.
The children ran on through the highschool, their voices shrill in the night air. Not loud enough to penetrate the boundaries of the park to the nearest house, where Sunnydale residents slumbered peacefully. The most frightening thing was the silence of the pursuit. Any time the children glanced behind them, the vampires had closed the gap a little more. They stared determinedly straight ahead, not willing to watch for the inevitable.
Without a sound, a vampire seized the smaller of the two children by the back of his shirt and lifted him clear of the ground. The elder child, oblivious to her brother's plight, ploughed straight past with the other vampire in silent pursuit. Before the vampire could pierce the skin of the boy's neck, the vampire jerked and crumpled to the ground. The boy began to run almost before his feet hit the ground. The child sprinted across the road to the nearest house.
The second vampire paused in its pursuit to face the child's rescuer. There she stood, dark hair curled about her face, every muscle proud and energised. The Slayer. As the vampire lunged at her, she easily avoided his reaching hands and drove a stake into his heart. The vampire widened his eyes in surprise, his mouth forming a silent 'oh'. He exploded into dust and ashes. As undead, vampires only got one final death. The second time they died there was little to mark their passing. The Slayer wiped the ash clinging to her clothing and turned to the vampire she'd kicked earlier.
The vampire gazed at the Slayer who was slightly taller than him but much thinner. He took in her battle ready stance and her intense concentration and made the sensible decision. He ran. Failing to hide her smug satisfaction at such a reaction, the slayer slipped a stake from the sleeve of her jacket and let it fly. The stake turned end over end in the air before the point buried itself in the vampire's chest. The vampire was soon reduced to nothing more than ash. As the young Slayer turned to go, a whimper wafted across the school grounds.
The Slayer spun and weaved her way deeper into the schoolgrounds, searching for the girl. The moaning cries drew her towards the far side of the school, where the roof tiles were missing and the remains of glass beer bottles littered the patchy grass. Next to the rubbish bins, by the steps of the music department, stood a striking blond vampire. The girl was slumped in his arms, blood spotted across his lips. Sensing her presence, the vampire looked up. Not even the fangs and eye ridges could disguise the smug expression or the delicate cheekbones that faced her. The vampire let the child's body slump to the ground like nothing more than a sack of potatoes. It was clear that it was too late to save the child and the Slayer hesitated. This vampire did not seem to be your average dullwitted demon. There was intelligence in those deathly beautiful eyes. Even his clothes caught your attention.
His long black leather jacket contrasted with a red unbuttoned shirt and the black polo shirt beneath that. His hair was a bleached pale blond and a scar ran across one delicate eyebrow. He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip, studying the Slayer before him. Obviously deciding he liked what he saw, he broke into a dangerous grin.
"Hello cutie," the vampire broke out in an English accent. "So you would be the new Slayer, then?"
"I would," the Slayer answered cautiously, unmoving.
The vampire smiled again and slowly, deliberately looked her up and down. He cocked his head and raised his hand to his chin, as if trying to decide something.
"Look at you, now, all dressed up and ready to play with the big people, huh, pet?"
The Slayer stiffened, "Don't call me pet."
"Then what do I call you, cutie?" continued the vampire. "Not that I really care, I mean I don't really feature you hanging around that long. Know what I mean?"
"It's Jenny and yeah, I know what you mean. I don't expect you to be hanging around that long either," answered the Slayer icily.
The vampire grinned mischieviously at her, "Right then, shall we get on with it, pet?"
"That's just fine with..." the Slayer began.
The vampire leapt forward with the inhuman speed of his kind and kneed her in the side of the head. Stunned by the attack, Jenny fell backwards, knocking the rubbish bins to the ground. Rolling bodily over the piles of trash, the Slayer flipped smoothly to her feet.
The vampire was watching her intently and the Slayer followed his gaze to her arm. A dampness had begun to seep through the material of the jacket. A few seconds later, the pain of a deep cut registered to her adrenelin charged body. The Slayer looked quickly to the rubbish, easily spotting the broken glass she must have rolled over. When the Slayer turned back to the vampire, she was shocked to find herself face to face with the vampire.
"Who are you?" Jenny demanded, staring unflinchingly into those eyes.
"Well, pet," answered the vampire, unhurriedly. "Most would call me Spike."
He lunged at her but she ducked beneath him. Spike seized her arm and used her momentum to swing her back into the rubbish bins.
Jenny flipped to her feet and then somersaulted over Spike's head. Spike advanced slowly and Jenny backed off. Her arm had begun to throb by now and her world was beginning to spin. Jenny's hand groped about her neck and snagged the chain she wore about it. With a tug she pulled it free and tossed it to Spike. Then she was running, hearing Spike's yelp of pain behind her.
After the Slayer had fled, Spike stood clutching his palm where he'd been burned. He snarled and kicked the small golden cross that he'd caught before he'd seen what it was. For some reason it seemed oddly familiar. The force of Spike's kick sent the cross flying onto the Music Department's verandah. Seething, Spike stalked off into the night.
***
Jenny trudged wearily up the path to the Art Gallery that had been opened by her grandmother. Behind the gallery was a small flat where the gallery's current owner, Denton, lived. The paintings and sculptures had originally lured Jenny here but now the owner was more than a friend to Jenny. Now, he was her Watcher. The one who trained and prepared young women for a short but hopefully destructive career. Jenny leant heavily on the doorbell. The door opened almost instantly, as if she was expected. The forty year old who answered had a British accent so reminiscent of Spike, she had to supress a shudder.
"Jenny, you're... good grief, girl. What happened?"
The last was more a command than an inquiry.
"New vampire in town," Jenny offered weakly.
He ushered her inside and steered her to a chair. She sat down rather heavily, the chair creaking even with her slight weight. He began to peel off her jacket and shirt. She sat there, slightly numb but mostly miserable.
"Fangs did this?"
"No. There was glass."
"I see."
Denton finished bandaging her arm and stood back to look at her.
"Want to tell me about this new vampire?" he asked gently.
"Goes by the name of Spike, very British and very bad."
"I see."
"He's smart...," Jenny yawned.
"It's almost morning," Denton told her. "You can fill me in later. In the meantime, get some sleep. In any case, you ought to get home before your father checks on you and realises you aren't there."
"Why?" asked Jenny. "What's the time?"
"About four in the morning."
Yawning again, Jenny nodded in agreement.
***
Wincing at the pain in her arm, Jenny scrambled up to her second floor window. She froze, hand outstretched to the windowsill. She could see a silhouette in her room. Once more, her throat tightened in annoyance that her father felt the need to check on her every night when he came home. As if she'd vanish during the night. Then it occured to her that she'd done just that - vanished from her room in the middle of the night. And for what? So that she could get herself beaten up by a vampire?
She recognised her father by the wide shoulders and stance. He turned to face her, saw her out on the ledge. She swallowed. Her father motioned for her to come in. Almost as if she expected a death sentence, she climbed over the windowsill.
He said nothing.
She said nothing.
He took her bag of equipment from her and placed it under her bed. He didn't seem to register the metallic sound it made and part of Jenny's mind dimly wondered how her father knew where she kept her equipment bag.
Jenny sat on the bed, expecting the yelling and screaming to begin. Her father walked towards her and seemed about to say something. Instead he just shook his head in resignation and knelt in front of her. Undoing her shoes. He pulled off her socks and took off her jacket, barely blinking at the sight of the blood stained bandage. He pushed her gently down into her bed and tucked her in. He kissed her gently on the forehead, turned and walked out of the room. Jenny was left staring at the ceiling, her arm throbbing. She felt as if she should have had an argument. But she hadn't. Somehow it was a bit of an anticlimax. Things would explode in the morning, she reassured herself as she relaxed her tired muscles into sleep.
***
When Jenny woke, her hair was ruffled and the clothes she'd fallen asleep in were rumpled. She slid out of bed and got dressed, taking a careful look at her arm. She edged slowly down the hall and stubbed her toe on something in the dim light. Almost smothered in curtains, the house was always dark during the day. Ironically the Slayer's father had a rare eye condition that made bright light painful to him. So he stayed inside during the day and only went out at night. Traditionally, night was a time for family. Her father would always try and make up for all the school productions and picnics he'd had to miss. They'd go out together and play, walk in the parks and just be together. Jenny's father always listened to her but when she'd learned of her calling to slay vampires, her nights were now usually spent fighting for her life. It meant less time to spend with her father and he was beginning to get annoyed by her constant excuses. It made her feel hollow inside that she had to keep such a big part of her life secret but anonymity was a Slayer's first line of defense. She couldn't tell him, no matter how much she wanted to.
She felt down on the ground to see what she'd kicked. The wastepaper basket that usually stood by her parents room was lying on it's side. The flimsy plastic had been dented although Jenny was sure she hadn't kicked it that hard. Sometimes a Slayer really didn't know her own strength. The contents of the bin had been strewn along the ground. Sighing, she uprighted the bin and began to refill it. Drawing closer to the top of the staircase, she could hear a low murmuring. Jenny peered over the edge to see her parents talking, arguing.
Her father was surprisingly gentle for a man his size. His hair and eyes were dark although his skin was fair and strangely cool to the touch. At all times he carried an air of graceful silence, a complete contrast to the whirlwind that was Jenny's mother. Her mother was small, blonde, extremely athletic and constantly moving. At the moment, Jenny's mother was dressed in tightfitting sports clothes with her hair tucked up into a bun. No doubt she was off to teach another rowdy collection of teenagers how to defend themselves from muggers and dirty old men. Bitterly Jenny reflected that it was too bad that her mother's self defence classes didn't teach how to defend yourself from the supernatural. Not that anyone but the Slayer, the one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, could go as far as to kill them.
Her mother was gesturing wildly with her hands while her father was listening calmly.
"...why didn't you yell at her?" her mother demanded.
"I didn't want to scare her off," said her father, trying to calm her down.
"I'd have done a hell of a lot more than scare her off."
"Buffy, when your mother found out you ran away from home."
"What would you know about that? You weren't even..."
Her mother broke off as they noticed Jenny listening.
"You know what?" Her mother turned to her father. "I have to go."
Ignoring Jenny, her mother marched resolutely out the door.
Her father closed the front door behind her and turned to smile at Jenny. The way the smile failed to reach his eyes told Jenny all she needed to know. Wordlessly she followed him into the kitchen. He brought a covered plate out of the microwave and sat it in front of her. She unwrapped it to find a stack of pancakes. Her father loved to cook for her and sometimes he'd get bored during the day, all alone in the house. Her mother's favorite story was the one where Jenny's grandmother left a recipe book at the house and they came home to five course meal. Silently Jenny ate her pancakes, skewering them vigorously on the end of her fork. Her father watched her silently across the table.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked her, leaning forward across the bench.
Jenny jumped, "What?"
"It's just your mother used to sneak out of her window so that we could... you know."
"Make out? Wow, that was more than I needed to know," muttered Jenny, returning to her pancakes. She smiled quietly to herself. Parents, what can you do with 'em? Her father was still staring at her, waiting for a reply.
"No," she reassured him. "There's no boyfriend, I just... there was this party and I didn't think you'd let me go. It was outside and there was broken glass."
She looked back up at him, indicating her arm. Did he believe that? She couldn't tell.
***
Denton looked up from the papers he was shuffling at the sound of the doorbell.
"Coming," he called.
He put his hand on the deadbolt. "Who is it?"
"Um, there was like this traffic accident," began a voice with an English accent. "And could I use your phone to call for an ambulance?"
"Of course," answered Denton, quickly. "Come in."
He undid the deadbolt and opened the door. A cloaked figure grinned at him.
"Thank you so much for inviting me into your home..."
***
As Jenny passed the school cafeteria a hand reached out to snag her sore arm, making her wince.
"Jenny, do you have a moment?" asked a soft voice.
Dr Rosenberg stood behind her. Apart from being one of the nicest teachers in the school, Dr Willow Rosenberg was a good friend of Jenny's mother. She often helped tutor Jenny for free if she ever had any trouble with schoolwork.
"Morning," nodded Jenny, rubbing her arm. "And yes, I do have a moment. A couple, even."
"I was wondering if you'd lost this?" asked Dr Rosenberg, opening her hand.
Laying on the palm of her hand was a golden cross on a chain. The one she'd thrown at Spike.
"It's just that since it used to belong to your mother, I thought you might want it back. One of the children found it outside by the music department."
"Thankyou Dr Rosenberg."
***
She had wanted it back, Jenny realised later as she brushed a vampire's ashes from her clothing. She walked solemnly through the graveyard, tightly enveloped in her own thoughts. And it wasn't all she wanted back. She wanted a normal life again. Denton had only come to her three months ago. Her mother had given her some self defence training but it was nothing compared to the rigorous programme that Denton insisted she follow. Between the training and the slaying and the lying and the losing, tearing or blood staining of her clothes, she had so little of her own life left. The cross was more than just a defense against the supernatural.
All Jenny's earliest memories of her mother, were of her wearing that cross. When Jenny was nine, her school class went on camp for the first time. They went for four days and Jenny had never been away from her parents for more than a couple of hours. Her mother took her in her arms and put the cross around her neck.
"Now part of me's always with you. The cross'll keep you safe, even when I can't."
Ironically, the cross had saved her from vampires more times than she could count. That thought turned her mind to thoughts of Spike. Spike could be a problem. If he had come to stay...
Jenny would have to improve her technique. Maybe he wasn't as tough as he had first appeared. She had been injured by the glass, disadvantaged before the fight had even begun. Spike hadn't been responsible for that, he'd just taken advantage. She would face him again when she was recovered. There was a small sound behind her in the graveyard and she whipped around. There was nothing there. She moved on, keeping alert for a sudden attack.
Hidden from Jenny's sight behind a headstone, a vampire exploded into dust. Jenny's father stood, brushing the ashes off his coat. He turned to watch his only daughter move through the graveyard, his eyes glowing dully beneath eye ridges. His soft lips dragged across his sharpened fangs. He moved forward again so stealthily not even the Slayer could hear him.
***
Jenny's patrol was not very fruitful that night. It was totally lacking in fruit, not to mention vampires. Disgruntled and not to mention bored, she returned home. She snuck down into the kitchen, needing a cup of tea before she could sleep. Sighing, Jenny removed the empty milk carton from the fridge. It looked like her mother had forgotten to do the grocery shopping. Again. Jenny really needed a cup of tea. Whenever she patrolled her whole body came awake. Trying to just fall asleep afterwards, unless she was exhausted, had proved impossible without a cup of tea to relax her. She remembered then that her parents kept a small portable fridge in the bottom of their wardrobe. They thought she didn't know about it but she'd discovered it one year while searching for her Christmas presents in advance. Not that she was in the habit of raiding her parents room. Not every year, anyway.
They might have milk in there. Actually it was more likely they were hiding an alcohol addiction in there but it couldn't hurt to take a peep. Just a little one. She crept into her parents bedroom. Her mother was still at a self defence class and her father... was out with friends. Oddly enough, she knew most of her mothers friends - Dr Rosenberg, Tara, Xander, Anya and this really old guy named Giles - but she couldn't think of any of her father's friends. Whenever his messages came from work, they were left by either someone by the name of Cordelia or Wesley. She didn't know if her father considered them friends. He had never mentioned them so she supposed not.
Jenny tiptoed into her parents room. Maybe it was the noise the carpet made as she walked across it. Maybe the creak as she opened their wardrobe door. For whatever reason, Jenny didn't hear the front door open. Oblivious, she knelt by the fridge and opened the door. The fridge was almost empty but for a plastic bag and a thermos flask. Beneath the doubled layers of the plastic bag, Jenny could just make out a reddish tinge. There was no milk and she should have shut the fridge right then. But her parents weren't home, they wouldn't know. She picked up the plastic bag and found it flexible - like an icepack filled with jelly. She slipped the contents into her lap. She blinked at the packets of blood. They were each labelled with little yellow tags. Sunnydale Hospital. What did her parents want with out of blood? There was a sound out in the hall of keys hitting a table. Jenny panicked. She stuffed the packets back into the bag and shoved them back in the fridge.
As she was crossing the room, her mother appeared in the doorway. Seeing Jenny, her mother stopped and crossed her arms. Jenny recognised the her mother's classic 'battle-stance' and prepared herself for the oncoming train that was her mother.
"What exactly is going on, Jennifer Anne Summers?"
Jenny was surprised by the anger in her mother's voice.
"I can look after myself you know, I'm not required by law to tell you everything."
"Forget everything, how about anything? You know how patient your father can be. After checking on you last night, you should have seen what he did to our wastepaper basket! I'm going to have to replace it."
Jenny opened her mouth to explain but her mother continued.
"If you could be even a little bit more responsible. I can't believe you've been galavanting off around town without telling us. Behind our backs - that's lying, Jenny."
"I have not been galavanting," erupted Jenny. "At no time have I ever galavanted. Ask anyone."
"Ask who? I don't know any of your friends, you never bring them home."
"Course I know all of yours. They're always here or you're always..."
Jenny's mother looked as if she'd been stung, then Jenny could almost hear the snap as her mother's patience broke.
"You're old enough to look after yourself, obviously. Don't need me around, oh no..."
Her mother stormed out of the room and thudded down the stairs, still muttering. The front door slammed and the car started. Jenny walked into the hallway. If only she could defend herself properly. Get her parents to understand that every night she was out risking her life, getting nothing in exchange. Her temper flared and she kicked the abused wastepaper basket. It made a satifying thud and propelled a ball of paper all the way to her bedroom door. She certainly didn't get much sleep that night.
***
Dr Rosenberg looked up from grading papers at the pounding on the door. Tara walked by her to answer it.
"Buffy. Hi. Do you want to come in... talk to Willow?"
There was an inaudible answer.
"I... ah... I'll get Willow."
Dr Rosenberg moved to join Tara at the door.
"Will?" Buffy asked.
Her tearful expression gave Dr Rosenberg her cue to take on her role as best friend.
"Buffy, come in."
***
A couple of streets away, Jenny sat on her bed, preparing for the night's patrol. Her mother had not returned that day but Dr Rosenberg had called to let Jenny know that she was at their house. Her father hadn't exactly ignored her but had rushed to Dr Rosenberg's as soon as the sun was down. So Jenny had pulled her equipment bag out from under her bed and plunked it beside her. All her homemade stakes were strewn across the bed, getting a good sharpening with a knife. Jenny swept the wood shavings into her hand and headed to the waste basket near her door. She froze in midstride. Her father stood in the doorway, watching her. Her mind raced. Okay, why am I sharpening wooden stakes? Do I have a friend who works in a garden nursery...?
"You're the new Slayer?" he asked, sounding resigned.
"What? Come again..." Jenny stammered. Her father wasn't suppossed to know that, he didn't even know that vampires existed.
"You're Faith's replacement. When she died, we figured there'd be a new Slayer in town," he continued.
Jenny raised her eyebrows. Okay, now things were getting a little too creepy.
"I just didn't think it'd be so close to home."
Jenny found her voice again, "Well, I didn't exactly choose it. It chose me."
Her father nodded as if this was obvious. His expression turned slightly thoughtful.
"You know," he said. "I think I should have a talk with your watcher. No offence but your reaction time is slow. Mind you, you've only been Slaying for three months."
At the reference to her watcher, her brain jogged back into gear.
"How do you know about the Slayer, Dad?"
As he began his evasive answer something gnawed at the back of her brain.
Blood in the fridge. Curtains on the windows.
Jenny swung her hand behind her reaching for her slaying gear but the bag slipped off the bed, scattering the contents. Her father came into the room and began to gather her equipment up. He picked up the stakes, the knives and the bottles of holywater. Jenny tried to ignore the way he avoided touching the garlic and the crosses. Jenny tried desperately to ignore the small part of her which was stating the obvious, her heart begining to beat out of control.
Jenny crouched beside her father and met his eyes hesitantly, then she looked past him. At the mirror. At her reflection. At the total lack of her father's reflection. He realised what she was looking at and turned to meet her gaze.
"That's how you know," she told him quietly.
"You're still my daughter."
"Vampires don't get to have little vampires. Says so in the Slayer handbook."
Her father looked away. His completely calm demeanour was the same as it had always been but now there was a definite storm brewing. Jenny kicked out, catching him in the head. Even as his head was being flung backwards, his foot was shooting out. He caught Jenny in the stomach, throwing her backwards onto her bed. Her momentum carried her across it and off the other side. She flipped back to her feet but her father had gone. Jenny looked around miserably and walked out into the hall, feeling an intense need to pulverise the wastepaper basket.
***
Her father was a vampire. She had no idea how long it had been so, with his eye condition he had a perfect excuse for keeping away from direct sunlight. Hiding in plain sight, as it were. He could have become a vampire tonight, last night, the day before when he was arguing with her mother. Her mother. Seized by a new rush of fear, Jenny snatched up her equipment bag and sprinted down the stairs and across the lawn. Her only coherent thought was to find her mother, protect her from the vampire that was now part of their family.
In her panic, she wasn't concentrating for the unnaturally quiet sounds that fall over streets where vampires prowl. Hands deep in his pockets, Spike stepped from the shadows to follow the new Slayer at a safe distance. Not that he couldn't beat her to a bloody pulp but sometimes it was so much more fun to lure them to quiet places where they could scream without fear of interruption. Then Spike realised how corny that thought had sounded.
Bloody hell, I'm almost starting to sound like Angelus...
He continued over the gravel, over the grass and cement with the unnatural silence of his kind. No fun stalking someone if they can hear you coming.
***
By now Jenny was pressing insistently on Denton's doorbell. Why doesn't he answer? She pounded on the door until the wood started to splinter. There was a thud and then Denton was peering through the door.
"Yeah?" he demanded, only his eye visible through the open door.
"Can I come in?" Jenny asked, wondering what Denton had been up to. And what was that smell?
"Ah, yeah," replied Denton in a monotone.
Jenny began to talk, "I'm glad you're alright. Some really big stuff has happened and I was worried that something has happened to you..."
Jenny paused, her gaze fixed behind Denton, on the hall mirror. As Denton turned to stare at his own lack of reflection, Jenny delivered a roundhouse to the back of his head. She drew a stake from her sleeve and drove it into Denton's back. As Jenny watched her Watcher explode into dust she stamped her foot angrily.
"Today is so not a good day!"
"Don't mind if I back that up, do you pet?" asked an English accent.
Jenny turned around, straight into Spike's fist.
The force of the punch knocked her backwards across Denton's couch. It was only now that Jenny could see that the room was full of vampires, watching with malicious sneers.
"I hope you don't mind. I sort of felt a need to introduce myself to your watcher," Spike told conversationally.
Jenny flipped up, catching Spike in the head with her legs.
"That's alright, I can do things for myself," shouted Jenny.
She cartwheeled off the couch and faced him. She threw a punch. He blocked it. So she tried again and again. Finally he caught her fist in his and punched her in the stomach. As she doubled over, he hit her across the back and drove his knee into her side. She collapsed breathless and Spike came down on top of her. He caught her struggling arms and grinned wickedly, "Well, a pretty short career. Even for a Slayer."
As he leaned down towards her neck, Jenny registered movement somewhere in the background that not even the other vampires had noticed.
Spike was pulled up and backwards. As Jenny rolled to her feet, her father flattened Spike with an uppercut. As her father advanced again, Spike lashed out at him with a sideways kick. Her father dodged and kicked Spike savagely in the side. One of the other vampires dove at him but her father was ready. Jenny didn't even see the stake in his hand yet still the vamp disintegrated into dust. A vampire came at Jenny and she ducked him and pinned him to the floor. She kicked out at a nearby chair with her foot, smashing the wood into makeshift stakes. She staked the vampire beneath her, before straightening up.
A vampire lunged at her father, throwing him offbalance. In the second of distraction, two more vampires grabbed her father's arms, forcing him to his knees. Sensing he had the upper hand, Spike began to gloat.
"Well, well, if it isn't Angelus," announced Spike. "Hanging around the new Slayer? What's the matter, the old one dump you?"
Her father snarled and knocked down one of the vampire holding him. Spike kicked him in the leg, knocking him back down in turn.
Jenny grabbed a splintered chair leg and took out one of the vamps with a well aimed throw. Grabbing a lamp in one hand and a pair of sewing scissors in the other she advanced. Spike made a move towards her and she smashed him in the head with the lamp. She drove the scissors through the thigh of one of the vamps holding her father. Her father broke free again as Spike kicked the lamp from Jenny's hand. Her father caught Spike's fist as he prepared to strike Jenny, pulling him backwards. More vampires came in from outside. Jenny and her father hesitated, pressing their backs against each other as the vamps circled round them.
"What's the matter, Angel?" taunted Spike, returning to his feet. "No Buffy to save you at the very last..."
The window of the apartment shattered as Jenny's mother cartwheeled through it in her gym clothes. She landed in front of Spike, eyes flashing with anger.
"Wouldn't want to disappoint..." she retorted as she began to lay into Spike.
Jenny and her father only had to finish off a couple more vamps before the remainder ran for their lives. Jenny watched a little numbly as her mother worked out all her stress by beating an immortal undead vampire into a bloody pulp. She shouted the whole time in a tone that Jenny was privately glad she'd never heard before. And some of her teachers accused Jenny of bad language. She didn't even understand what some of those words meant!
"Don't you ever... come near... (ugh)... my family... again!"
She finished by seizing Spike by the collar and hurled him out the window she'd come in by. Spike's none too sturdy footsteps could be heard retreating down the garden path.
Her mother wiped her hands and clothes free of vampire ashes. She turned to face Jenny.
"And that goes for you too," Jenny was told fiercely. "If I ever catch you trying to stake your father..."
"Buffy," her father interupted, breaking out into one of his rare smiles. "I think the warning has already been noted."
Jenny looked her parents up and down quietly for a minute, "Alright, who are you people?"
"You want to tell her?"
"Do you want to?"
"Okay, the story starts about 261 years ago..." began her father, putting his arm around her and steering her out the front door. "There was a man who became a vampire..."
"And there was a young Slayer," added her mother.
"Yes, I was just getting to that..."
And so the Summers family walked off into the night. Two vampire Slayers and a vampire. Ordinary people walking on a quiet, ordinary spring night in Sunnydale - a quiet occasionally punctuated by the screams of disintegrating vampires.