Chapter 5: Second Time Around
Buffy sighed as she approached her house, thankful to be away from the Magic Box and the questions that she had no answers to. It had been a full week since her return, and things were just starting to settle back to what could almost pass for normal. No, that wasn't true. They would never have anything that came remotely close to passing to normal for most people, but things were at least starting to settle a little.
Giles was finally starting to accept the fact that she had no idea why they had returned her just that they had. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful to whomever for doing so, but she knew deep down inside the Watcher wanted answers. Things just don't happen, everything has a reason. That was something that was drilled into watchers from what she understood, to help them have a handle on prophecies and their inevitability. There is always a reason, and he was bound and determined to find it.
She didn't care why she was back, she was just glad someone brought her home. However, at the same time, she hated them. Someone had stolen seven years of her life. She missed so much of Dylan's life…
Buffy hadn't even recognized the child when she came home! Yeah, they had told her seven years had passed, but, in the back of her mind, she hadn't fully believed them. She expected that she would come home, find her baby sleeping upstairs in her crib, and it would turn out that they were all wrong and nothing bad had really happened after all. But that little blonde-haired girl standing in the kitchen, with Spike's eyes full of confusion and Buffy's own mouth dropped slightly in shock, had been living proof that time had moved on without her. That they had moved on without her.
Besides that morning, the rest of the week had pretty much been a blur. Scoobies from past and present were dropping by all the time, almost as if they were afraid she'd disappear again if they left her alone for too long. The only one who didn't kept a constant eye on her or wanted to be around her twenty-four seven was Dylan.
The kid didn't know what to make of her, she guessed. Sure, the others were constantly telling the child infamous stories about her slayer mom in front of Buffy, building her up to sound like some sort of superhero god that could walk on water, but the seven-year-old was less than interested by them. The fact was, she didn't know Buffy and she couldn't remember her from before she died; so now the fact that she was sitting in the living room, talking about old times that Dylan couldn't recall, really didn't mean much to her.
Joyce had flown back from New York the minute Dawn called with the news of Buffy's return. That was something else that had changed while she'd been away. Her Mom's already popular gallery had become even more so; she now also owned a gallery in LA and had gone to New York to make a deal with some other owners who wanted to partner with her. Buffy had noticed before she died that her mother's business among the richer clientele had increase, especially to a certain Spanish country where the slayer had spent time. Of course, now her mother had gained a great deal of credibility among the elite, but Buffy would have to remember to tell a certain heiress 'thank you' the next time she saw her.
Oz bad been by once or twice, and had brought that kid Van with him. The boy was about nine or ten years old now-Buffy wasn't sure which-and had begun to look more and more like his father in the face. To see a picture of Van and Oz standing together, you could easily tell they weren't related; but when you meet them in person that was hard to believe. Van acted so much like the older werewolf it was believable he was actually Oz's son.
She had finally asked Oz why Tara hadn't come by to see her and got an answer that she didn't like. Now she really didn't know what to make of that Andrew guy back at the Magic Box. He might not have actually been the one to kill her friend, but he was closely associated with the person who had. Well, if Willow was able to work with him around, maybe she could as well.
Connor had returned and had brought along some Angel and Cordelia shaped friends. Neither one of them seemed to have changed all that much over the years, but Cordy was definitely making it clear that Angel was hers now. Buffy could tell the last time they'd been there that they were close to getting together. They hadn't stayed long, just long enough to see she was indeed alive, gave her the awkward welcome back, and went back to the life they had left in LA.
Connor had been paying more attention to Dawn and her reaction to all this than he had the returning slayer, which was fine by Buffy. He should be concerned with his girlfriend and how she felt, that's what good boyfriends do, right? But he had at least actually given Buffy a quick, 'Welcome back' before going off to slay something with her sister.
Willow and Xander were practically conjoined to her since her return. They were there when she woke up in the morning and there when she went to bed in her newly relocated room that had been Dawn's. Today, though, Xander had finally gone home earlier in the evening when a very upset Anya had threatened him with divorce if he didn't come back home and help take care of his children. And Willow had gone soon after when she got beeped from her very irritated boss who would like to know if she wanted to return to work that evening or not come back at all.
Not that Buffy minded some time away from her friends. It wasn't that she didn't love them, but she was really getting tired of playing 'stuff Buffy can't answer' that they had been bugging her about. She didn't know why she was sent back. She didn't know why they had chosen for seven years to pass. All she knew was that she was back and wanted to get back to her old life. Only problem was, the old life wasn't there waiting for her anymore. There was this whole new life where her daughter was seven and hated her, Dawn was in college and living in the dorms, and Spike…she honestly didn't know what was up with him.
He acted so different around her now, like he wasn't sure if she wanted him to be around her or not. The slayer didn't know how much clearer she could be about wanted him there short of actually handcuffing him to her before he made yet another getaway to the basement or on patrol. Buffy just wished he would talk to her, like he used to.
The front door closed quietly behind her as she returned from yet another section of 20 Questions with the Scoobies. They really were driving her nuts, but at least she managed to get away from them pretty early that night. Maybe after dinner she would go on patrol. Yeah, that'd be fun. Buffy paused that the thought. She must really be board of research if the word 'fun' was being associated with the word 'patrol'.
"Anybody home?" she called into the house, listening as her own voice echoed through it.
It was a stupid question, someone had to be there if for nothing else than to keep an eye on Dylan. Buffy still couldn't believe she had actually gotten suspended from school! Well, even if Dylan was a lot like Spike, it was good to know that her daughter had at least inherited a little bit of her.
When no answer came, Buffy began to check around the house. All three of the upstairs bedrooms where empty, including Dylan's. She went back down to the first floor, deciding it would best to check there before going downstairs and asking Spike if he knew where they were, and found a folded piece of paper resting on the bar. Her name was on it, and Buffy recognized Dawn's chicken scratch as she began to read the letter.
Buffy,
Took Dylan over to my place on campus to spend the night. Yeah, I know she's ground, but Mom got called down to LA for the night and I thought that maybe you and a certain vampire, who lives in our basement but shall remain nameless, could use a little catching up time. You can thank me by holding your little 'catching up' session down in his room instead of my old one. Hey, I still have to sleep in there sometimes you know. And don't roll your eyes cause I know a lot more than you think I do about you and Spike. You've got a second chance, Buffy; don't blow it like I know you're so good at doing. I'll bring Dylan back tomorrow before my first class at ten. Have fun.
Love,
Dawn.
Buffy shook her head as she put the paper back down on the counter. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for some alone time with him, she had tried on several times to do so already, but she didn't know if he wanted to be with her anymore. He didn't act like it. It was times like these she missed the old pre-souled Spike. The moment he saw her he would have either jumped her or tried to kill her or at make some lewd comment to at least let her know what he was thinking. Now all he did was talk to her politely when there were a lot of people around and, since the first day she came back, hardly talk to her at all when there weren't. Damn it! Why did he have to get all complicated on her?
"Meow!" a voice bellowed from her feet before a tiny, furry head slammed into her leg.
The blonde looked down to find Dylan's cat, Sid, rubbing against her. With a sigh, she thought, Right idea, wrong male.
"Hey, Sid," she said, reaching down and picking the black tomcat up. The animal almost instantly started purring as she scratched under his chin. "Well, looks like it's going to be me, you, and soul man downstairs tonight."
The cat meowed again at the mention of Spike. Dawn had told her that the two had never had gotten along. She had said Sid hated it when one of the girls was paying attention to the vampire instead of him. Plus, Buffy suspected the cat also didn't like the fact that Spike could growl and purr louder than him. Maybe Giles should call the council and tell them to add a chapter to one of their books on vampires of why cats and vampires are non-mixy things.
She kissed the tomcat on the top of his head and then turned for the phone. "Come on. You can help me order dinner."
**********
"Die! Die! Die!!" Dylan exclaimed, smashing her thumb into the remote control button.
"I'm sure that's something your parents would love to hear you say," Dawn said dryly as she picked up the pizza box from the floor and took it into Connor's kitchen, but the seven-year-old and the college student who was playing the game with her, didn't hear her. Instead, they just continued to stare at the television as the two computerized street fighters tried to beat each other into a digitalized bloody pulp. Dawn groaned at their obliviousness to her, and called behind her as she disappeared into the kitchen, "I play winner."
Connor looked up momentarily, then tried out the cool move Xander had shown him. He couldn't help but smile brightly when his man knocked Dylan's on his butt, taking out the rest of his power.
"Hey!" the child exclaimed upon realizing that the one thing she hated had just happened. She had lost. Groaning, she dropped the control on the carpet and turned her pout towards the young man beside her. "You couldn't even let me win a video game match?"
"No," he said, the slightest bit of amusement at her aggravation showing through.
That's why she hated playing with Connor, he never let her win. When they sparred, he made sure he kicked her kid-sized butt all over the mat. And, no matter what Dawn or Giles said, she knew it wasn't because he was trying to teach her anything; he did because he liked making sure she lost.
Her dad told her it was because he was related to Peaches and she was related to him. It was the circle of life; Angel made Spike's life hell when he was teaching him, and Connor was there to make hers the same during her training. Why couldn't they pass on normal family traits? Like alcoholism. Well, one day she'd beat him, and she'd be sure she kicked his ass right good when she did.
"So, what's with you and your mom?" he asked out of left field, surprising Dylan momentarily. Leave it to Connor to come right out and ask something. Just confirmed he'd been hanging out with Cordelia and Anya too long.
"What about me and Buffy?" Dylan asked, getting up from the floor and heading over to the oversized recliner. She flopped down into it, grabbed his GameBoy from the end table, and began to play, hoping he'd get the idea that she didn't want to talk about this.
"Dawn says that you haven't exactly been overly welcoming to her," he said, also getting up from the floor and walking to her. Jerking the game out of her hand, and causing her to give him an icy stare, he said, "You really should give her a chance. She's pretty cool from what I remember."
"This coming from the boy who dropped Daddy Dearest to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean?" she asked dryly, raising her eyebrow.
"I had issues," Connor agreed as he backed up and sat down on the edge of the nearby couch. "Question is why do you have them with Buffy?"
Dylan looked at him for a long minute, before sighing and pushing further back into the recliner. "You know, I liked the pre-psychology class Connor a lot better."
The miracle child shrugged. "It was a requirement. Now quit stalling and tell me why you're having such a big problem with Buffy being around."
The truth was, she didn't know why she and Buffy just weren't hitting it off. It wasn't that she didn't love her mom; she did, but it was just so strange having her around now. None of them seemed to get that.
"It's just weird, Connor," she confessed quietly upon seeing his stern look. If there was one thing she had learned about the older boy it was when to fess up by the look on his face. "I mean, she comes back after seven years and everyone is acting like we should all go right back to the way things used to be, but I don't remember the way things used to be. It's been me and Dad, you know? I mean, yeah, I had you guys and Gram and the others too, but it was mainly us. And now there's this new person who's already left once." She became quieter as her eyes dropped down to the floor. "I just don't see the point of getting attached when she's just going to leave again."
"What makes you think she's going to leave again?"
Dylan couldn't help but laugh. "God, Connor. Are you charging me by the hour for this?"
He leaned back on the couch and crossed his arms. Most people wouldn't be able to really read what he was thinking, but Gram always said that Dylan was a student of human behavior, whatever that meant. All she knew was when he did that, it meant he wanted her to go on and he wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted.
"Why would she stay? She didn't the last time," the seven year old said simply.
Dawn leaned against the inside wall next to the entrance between the kitchen and living room, her heart sinking to her stomach as she listened to her niece and boyfriend talk. She might have told Buffy she had taken Dylan for the night because she wanted to give her and Spike some alone time, but that was only half of it. The truth was she knew there was something up with the child and if anybody could get it out of her, it would be Connor. Well he had gotten the truth out of her, and it confirmed nearly everything that Dawn had feared. Dylan didn't hate her mother, she just felt abandoned by her. Honestly, Dawn didn't know which was worse.
Taking a moment to make sure she wouldn't break down in tears the moment she saw Dylan sitting there, Dawn plastered a smile back on her face and walked into the living room. Dylan stiffened immediately upon seeing her aunt, and even Connor seemed to become ridged. He knew Dawn had been listening, but it was a sure reaction to Dylan.
Dawn didn't let it faze her as she smiled at them, then turned to her niece, "Dylan, I think it's about time me and you head back to my room. Your dad would kill me if he knew I let you stay up this late, and I don't need him getting calls tomorrow from Giles about you falling asleep on the Diaries…again."
Nodding her head, the seven-year-old got out the recliner and stretched a little while she yawned. Connor got to his feet as well when two girls headed out the front door. Dawn held back a bit as Dylan walked the length of the hallway before seeing that her aunt was not following, but talking with Connor.
"You might want to take patrol tonight," Dawn told him in a low whisper. "I'm hoping my sister and a certain vampire will find better things to do tonight."
"Sure, I'll head out later," he told her, smiling ever so slightly.
Returning the gesture, she leaned up and a lightly brushed her lips to his. It was nothing passionate; don't want to disturb her niece too much, but more than just a friendly kiss. This was her way of thanking him, and promising to give him a proper thank you later on.
"Oh, that's just gross," Dylan whined in disgust.
Dawn pulled away from him, and laughed slightly at the little girl waiting for her. As Dylan made a production of throwing her arms in the air and rolling her eyes at the couple, Dawn said to him lowly, "Thanks for everything."
"No problem," he answered before letting her go.
She smiled one last time at him, then turned back to the aggravated child who was waiting for her.
"Do you really feel you have the need to do the whole kissy thing when I'm right here?" Dylan complained as they walked away.
Reaching over, Dawn rubbed the back of the child's curly blonde head. "You'll understand the whole 'kissy thing' someday."
"I hope not, cause boys are just…eww. I don't ever want a boy kissing on me like that."
"Trust me when I say that, if it were up to your father, there won't be any boys trying to get kissy on you," Dawn laughed as she saw an image of Spike's face the first time he would catch Dylan making out with some pimply-faced teenage boy. Hopefully the cop who would be sent to investigate the boy's homicide would understand. Besides, it's not like the cops in Sunnydale were that good at solving murders anyway; they could probably convince them he decapitated himself.
"What's so funny?" Dylan asked, noticing the amused smile on her aunt's face.
"Oh, nothing."
**********
Spike jerked in a breath as he woke yet again from another nightmare. Over the past week, they had been worse than they had been in years, ever since she came home. He didn't know why, because he knew she was safe upstairs now. No, that was a lie. He knew why he felt so guilty after all this time. She was in pain, both his girls were.
Dylan was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that she actually had a mother again. She didn't listen to Buffy, and called her by her first name. He could see how much it hurt the slayer when the child did that. A part of him wanted to order the seven-year-old to stop and call her what other children call their mothers, but it would do nothing but cause Dylan to be angry at him. It was a precious word and it wouldn't mean anything until Dylan was willing to call Buffy that on her own. But that was the only reason he let that continue.
The slayer was having a hard time readjusting as well. When she left, she'd had a baby, and now she didn't. Dylan was completely different than from what she remembered, as all children change over years, and he hated that she had missed so much. If it wasn't for his slow reaction time, she wouldn't have.
God, why couldn't it have been him instead of her? It would have been so much easier if the roles had been reversed. He just knew it would have been.
Letting out a breath slowly, Spike glanced up at one of the windows and found it was completely dark. Guess that meant it was time for him to get up because there was a world to protect and all.
Climbing the stairs, he heard the faint sound of an old song that he had long ago forgotten the words to. It was one of those songs that everyone had heard once in their life from it being played so often, even if it wasn't their taste of music. And this definitely wasn't his taste of music.
Pushing the basement door opened, he found the slayer in the kitchen, the little radio that usually only blasted that awful mariachi station playing the song softly as she swayed to it. There was a pizza box sitting in the middle of the island, the top pulled back and a single slice missing from the pie and resting on a plate next to the box. Buffy had her back to him as she danced to the music while retrieving a glass from the cabinet. Spike couldn't help but smirk as he leaned against the door frame and watched her while she started to sing along with the song.
"You got let your soul shine,
Just like my daddy use to say.
Use to say soul shine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine.
Damn sure better than rain.
And now people don't mind,
We all feel this way sometimes,
Got to let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of-Spike!" she yelped, jumping when she turned around and found she had an audience.
He chuckled at her. "Oh, no, go on, love. Think the song still has a couple of verses left."
She sent him a scolding look, though he could easily see she wasn't really mad, before heading for the refrigerator. "I sure hope Mom was the one who taught Dylan her manners."
"She tried," he said dryly. "Still tryin' to decided on whether it took or not." He came over to the island and pulled one of the slices out before asking, "Where is pip?"
Giving him a look, the blonde told him. "My sister sprung her for the night. Apparently Dawn doesn't understand the concept of grounding meaning that the child does not leave the house."
He couldn't help but shake his head. Leave it to the Bit to completely ignore what he says. She really was more like her sister than she would probably like to admit.
"And Joyce?"
"LA," Buffy answered simply. "And the others actually went home to their families and lives. So it looks like it might just be me and you tonight."
She watched as he became suddenly uncomfortable around her, and she panicked for a moment. There was no way she was letting him get away easily tonight, so she did the only thing she could think of. Moving quickly, she went to him, took the pizza away, and pulled him away from the island.
"Slayer? What are you doin'?" he asked, as she lazily draped her arms around his neck and began to once again sway with the music. Unconsciously, he began to move with her.
"Do you know what the last good memory of my parents together I have is?" she asked, jerking her head to throw her long blonde hair over her shoulder. When he continued to look at her as if she had lost her mind, she laid her head on his chest and told him. "I was thirteen, Dawn was eight, and we came home from school one afternoon and heard this song playing all through the house. My mom and dad were in the kitchen dancing to it. He had gotten some promotion or something like that, and had come home early to celebrate. I think that was the last time I actually saw them together without them yelling at one another."
"Not surprised Joyce is a fan of the Almman Brothers," he smirked, unintentionally pulling her closer to him.
"Hey, I like this song," she said in a fake hurt tone. "I don't care if the singers are named after a nut."
Spike couldn't help but laugh at the remark, but he didn't correct her. God, he could hold her forever if she let him. If he let himself.
After only a moment passed, he heard her say, "Spike."
"Yeah, love."
She lifted her head to where her chin was resting on his chest and he was looking down into her hazel eyes that were glowing green. She almost seemed nervous with a bit of shyness as she looked up at him, her mouth slightly opened and her eyes dark like she was waiting for him to kiss her. "Song's over," she said lowly, moving slowly upward.
"I noticed," he said softly just as he felt his lips touch hers.
Her hand came up and gently brushed against his cheek, suddenly reminding him that this was no dream. She was really here, kissing him in the kitchen. It was like that kiss they had shared all those years ago on the front porch, before their lives took that dark turn. Before he lost her. Before he let her die.
He broke the kiss, surprising her as he jerked away from her and her touch. "Spike?"
"I'm sorry, love," he said, turning his back on her to look for his coat to make a getaway. Finding it draped across a nearby barstool, he began to pull it on. "I shouldn't-"
"Spike," she repeated in the same small voice as she looked at him.
"I should go," he said more to himself, heading for the back door.
"You don't love me anymore," he heard her say softly. Stopping half way out the back door, he turned around quickly. She hadn't moved from her spot, but she now had her arms held close to her. "Do you?"
Blinking, he stared at her. "Is that what you think?"
Buffy raised her shoulders as if to shrug, then said, "I don't know to think. You won't talk to me." Her shoulders fell while she let out a deep sigh and dropped her head down to where he couldn't see her face. "I'd understand if you don't. It's been seven years for you. But it was just last week for me." She lifted her head to look at him. "Just please tell me. One way or the other, cause I need to know."
Spike just stood there. She actually thought he didn't love her anymore? Like he could ever actually stop?
"It's not that, pet."
"Then what is it?" Buffy demanded, sounding so much like the young woman he used to battle against. "Why are you doing the whole eggshell routine around me? You never have before. Hell, not even when I wanted you too!"
"You don't understand."
She looked at him for a long time; her face becoming even more like it often did when she was getting ready to slay something. In a determined fashion, she walked towards him, her arms swinging at her sides before she stopped right in front of him. "You're right, I don't understand." Shifting all her weight to one foot, she crossed her arms. "So make me."
The two stared at one another in a silent battle of wills. This was not something he liked to talk about, but she was more than obvious not going to give on the matter easily. If she had to, she would stand there all night until he told her. They both knew that.
"You want to understand? To get an inside look on what's goin' on in my noggin? Well, here it is. I let you die. I loved you more than anyone before, and I stood there and watched you die. I don't…I don't deserve you."
Buffy stood there, her eyes slightly wide with surprise but never leaving his face. For a moment, he couldn't really tell what she was thinking, but then he saw a flash of lightning behind her eyes as they narrowed in on him.
"How dare you," she hissed at him starting to move close to him again. He began to back away, but the slayer just kept coming closer. "You don't get to decide who I deserve. You don't get to choose who I love." Spike backed into the wall and Buffy was practically pressed against him before she stopped. "Listen to me very careful, you ex-bleach-blond bloodsucking fiend. I love you. You didn't let me die that night. You did not cause my death. God, for once, you weren't the one who killed the slayer, Spike. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't Willow's fault. It wasn't Eric's fault. It was that demon, that's what killed me."
"I could have stopped him, Buffy. I was right there, I should've-"
"Maybe you weren't meant too," she cut him off. "Did you ever think of that? Maybe things worked out the way they were supposed too. Maybe…" Her voice trailed off as the odd sensation of clarity washed over her. "I was meant to die."
He saw the clarity in her eyes. For some reason, the woman he loved actually believed that! "Buffy, you can't know that."
She shook her head while she wrapped her mind around this. "No. I think that's it. I don't know how I know, but it…feels right. I think I was meant to die that night."
Moving away from him, she let the epiphany sink in. She knew that was it. It had been fate. And if there was one thing she understood, it was that you can't change fate. You can fight it, you can delay it, but you can't change it. Now if only she could make Spike understand.
She looked up to face him again. "It was fate, Spike. You couldn't have stopped it. No one could have."
"I don't believe that, Buffy," he said sadly, which caused him to jump from shock when she started to laugh. She did so for several seconds, before covering her mouth to calm herself.
"I'm sorry," she said, drawing in a breath to stop herself from laughing again. "It's just…all this that you're clinging to as a reason not to start something, it's in the past. We can't change it, and you-you! Mr. Get Over It himself-are the one who can't." Her voice once again took on a soft touch. "Well, I for one don't care what happened seven years ago in the principal's office at the high school. What I do care about, is that we've got a second chance; me and you together, us and Dylan as an actual family. I don't want to blow it. And I'm not going to let you blow it for me."
A small smirk spread across his lips before he knew it. He couldn't help it. There the slayer was, standing before him in all her glory, telling him in no uncertain terms that he better get over whatever hold ups he had for no other reason than she said so. Now that was the woman he remembered falling in love with. He was tired of feeling guilty. If she didn't care, sod it then.
"That so?" he asked, raising his scarred eyebrow.
A smile found its way to her face as she crossed her arms. "That's so."
Making a production of sighing dramatically like he'd actually had to be convinced of all this, Spike pushed away from the wall and walked towards her. "Well, I guess there's nothin' I can do or say to change that pretty little mind of yours?"
"Nope," she said, popping the p while she watched him start to stalk around her. "I've decided. It's law now."
"That right? Wouldn't want to break the law now, would I?"
"No, cause then I would have to get upset. And you know how I am when I'm upset."
"No, we wouldn't want that," he smiled, coming to stop in front of her again, his hand having found its way to her waist and pulling her close to him. He held her there, nose to nose, before saying, "Guess there's nothin' to do now that make up for those seven years we missed, eh, love?"
"Don't you have patrol to be running off to right about now?" Buffy asked in a teasing tone.
"Not anymore," Spike answered before he kissed her for a second time that night.
**********
Sebastian walked quietly down the sidewalk of the dark street next to his grandfather, his hands dug deep into his pockets and his head down. The streets really weren't that busy this time of night, most of the people having gone home to their nice warm beds and loved ones. Usually there were only some local college students or rowdy teenagers that dared to be out this late, and they were usually plastered. At this time of night, there were only two kinds of people out; the hunters and the prey.
Up head, the sounds of sinister laughter were approaching the two. Sebastian lifted his head slightly to find a small group of what looked to be college students coming at them. There were four of them, three boys and a girl who had her arms draped over the man next to her. They looked like they had taken their clothing style advice from the Matrix movies, and Sebastian couldn't help but wonder how many cows had to die to make their form fitting outfits.
The group stopped before the old man and boy, and their smiles became even more evil if that was at all possible.
"Well, what do we have here?" the male who had his arms around the girl asked, as they moved around Sebastian and his grandfather to block their way. The man ran his tongue over his blunt teeth while he looked from the old man to the boy like they were a meal on legs. "Bit late to be out with Junior here. Ain't it, Grandpa?"
When the two refused to answer, the woman continued to taunt, "Oh, honey, I think we're scaring them. Maybe we should just let them go."
"Or maybe we should scare them even more," the man answered before shifting into game face with a growl. The other three followed his example, all turning their burning yellow eyes towards the two.
Almost lazily, Sebastian turned his head upwards towards his grandfather, silently asking for permission. A slight nod was his answer. Stupid vampires didn't even know what hit them. There was nothing but blood, breaking bones, and dust until the only one left was the leader of the little group that had been obliterated.
He fell back hard onto the ground as Sebastian stood over him, stake raised and face even.
"What the hell are you?" the vampire demanded nervously. But the boy didn't answer him, just drove the stake quickly into his heart, causing a pillow of dust to explode around his feet.
"Very good, Sebastian," his grandfather said with a very pleased look on his face. "But you shouldn't take as long in dusting them like the last one. Remember, it's better not to talk to them; else you might let them spin their lies in your mind. They are demons; they do not have the option of last words."
The two began to walk down the sidewalk again, going right back to the boy having his head lowered and gripping tightly onto the stake in his coat pocket. "Yes, Grandfather."
**********
(Hey, guys. Okay, first, a quick disclaimer, I don't own 'Soulshine'; The Almman Brothers own it. Also I like to say sorry that it took so long to get out this chapter, but sometimes real life gets in the way. And, with my schedule for school this semester, looks like these long waits between chapters might become more and more frequent. Wish it wasn't like that, but, hey, that's college for you. I also wanted to put in a plug for Haley Teague's "Deciding Destiny." It's really good guys, so go check it out. Well, guess that's about it. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please review. Thanks.)