Title-- Danae: Vampire Slayer
By-- RainTiger
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: Potential Slayer Danae Gray is raised by her Watcher after the death of her parents (two rogue demon hunters). Danae and James are stationed at Lake Tahoe (in Nevada), under which there is a long-dormant Hellmouth, and neither of them are too pleased about it. One night, after a demon mysteriously arises, Danae is suddenly Called -- becoming a full Slayer. It becomes a race against time to both learn and control her powers, and find out why she was Called when no Slayer had died.
A/N: Of course, I credit this all to Joss, even my original stuff. Danae never would have never been made without his influence. NONE OF THE CONVENTIONAL CHARACTERS ARE FEATURED THUS FAR. Sorry if they're all that interests you. You can also find Danae (and any episodes so far that aren't written by RainTiger) at danae-vs.50megs.com.
~~~~~
Things were dark under the trees at night, but then, they were often dark in the day as well. Everything around pressed in on a small clearing with a small building, and, as she came into view, a small girl. She stumbled into the relatively clear space, foot catching on a rock. The girl tumbled downward, face splattering in the mud. Somehow, the rain was getting through, and should have soothed her cuts, but it didn't.
Even though she weighed no more than seventy pounds, her left wrist collapsed under her when she forced herself to her hands and knees. Testing it, she thought it was sprained or broken. Instead of crying out, as most would do, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Keep it together, Danae," she murmured to herself. Using her teeth, Danae ripped a strip from her tank top, binding her arm as best she could, and not doing too bad a job. It wouldn't last long, but it held her wrist in place. Hopefully, it wouldn't have the same fate as her ill-healed broken nose.
Danae climbed back to her feet, using a combination of a wide stance and too-big boots to hold her up. She limped a few steps before realizing where she was.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the building, and she hunched a little to hold off the feeling the structure gave off -- a sickly humming deep in her marrow. "This is it," she promised herself. "No more."
Sinking back to the ground, Danae put her face in her good hand. She knew she should get up -- just a few more steps, and these hard months would pay off, and better yet, end. Just a few more st--
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.
"Run, Moira!"
At the sound of her mother's name, Danae forgot about the white-hot pain. Looking around the tree, she saw her mum shooting out of the now-open doorway, looking far worse than Danae. One eye was now an empty socket, and the other was circled in a dark bruise. One arm hung useless at her side, and blood coated her torso.
"M-mum?" Danae called weakly, trying to find her voice.
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --
Danae screamed, loud enough to wake the dead and kill the living -- but the beast did not stop, did not let go of her. It flexed its muscles, and the clearing went completely silent. Danae ran from behind her tree as it bounded away.
Her mother was thrown under a bush, only her upper torso and face visible -- and perhaps that was for the best. Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.
She broke down, unable to do anything else.
She had failed.
The pace of the rain seemed to increase as a heavy hand was set on her left shoulder. "It is time, Miss Gray."
~~~~~
"You're not paying attention," Joseph chided gently. "You can do much better, Danae. Watch Moira again."
Moira untied her blonde hair, running her fingers through it to make it neater, then retied it in a long ponytail. Taking a deep, easing breath, she bent slowly backwards, hands touching the ground. Kicking up, Moira held a perfect handstand for several seconds, then lowered her legs back down to complete the back flip smoothly.
"You can do it," Moira said, smiling.
Danae bounced, flipping backwards quickly without using her hands. She gave an elaborate bow. "I can do it -- in fact, I can do it better. Why so slow?"
"It isn't that you can do it, it's the control," Joseph explained. "Once more, Danae, and--"
Moira and Joseph both stopped, facing the wall leading outside. An audible rumbling filled Danae's ears.
"He's found us," Moira said softly after two long moments.
"Take Danae and run," Joseph said. "Now."
Joseph's calm disappeared, and he ran for the door. Moira pushed Danae in the opposite direction. "Run, Danae!" Moira cried.
Danae sat up suddenly, sheets tangled around her legs. Breathing heavily, as though she had been running all night, she looked around quickly. Why was she dreaming about that? That had been three years ago, when her parents were taken. It was also one of the very few memories of that general time period she had.
Something flickering at her bedside caught her eye. Turning a bit, she saw a small white candle. Lifting it, she blew it out gently. A certain energy seemed to leave the room.
"James!" Danae yelled, setting the candle back down.
"Yes?" the man replied, voice far off.
"We so have to talk." Jumping out of bed, Danae closed her door the rest of the way, shedding her pajamas.
"I'm in the kitchen making scrambled eggs."
"All right."
Throwing on exercise clothes, Danae brushed her hair. Her shower would have to wait until she got back from training that morning, as it always did. Bouncing down the stairs, she ran through the kitchen, dodging the island, and stopping at James' side.
James Edwards was tall, taller than Danae at least, and built lean. He had well-toned muscles from dancing and training, and Danae supposed that to an outside person, he would be very handsome. His black hair and ice-blue eyes truly set off his kindly face, and if he weren't so closed off, he'd probably have a date every night. He sort of resented being Danae's Watcher -- at the age of twenty six, he shouldn't have been loaded with raising a teenage girl. Unfortunately for him, his perfect memory made him a Watcher young.
She tapped her foot impatiently. "James. My wonderful, evil Watcher. You were doing it again."
"Doing what?" he asked innocently, transferring the newly made scrambled eggs onto two plates. He handed Danae one, setting his plate at the table in the dining room. She followed him.
"You put that bloody candle in my room again, James. You know the one. That cute little white number that makes me remember things." She sat down at the table, stabbing some egg with her fork. "If I see that thing again, I'm throwing it out my window."
"You need to see those things, Danae," James said. "You lack memory from about five months of your life."
"I remember enough," Danae protested.
"Very well. What happened when I found you?"
"Umm."
"After I found you?"
"Er."
"And how long did it take me to get you back to full health? How did your nose get broken? How many places did you look for your parents? When--"
"Enough." Danae held up a hand to stop him. "So my memory has holes. Big deal. Trauma made me forget for a reason."
James leaned forward, looking as though he wanted to pursue the matter further, but instead just shook his head. "Ready to train?"
"Aren't I always?"
James took off his black night robe, revealing a same-colored exercise outfit. "Let's go."
They left the house, not bothering to lock the door. It was hardly light enough to see out, but they made their way easily to their training center/dance studio. James locked the building nightly, but that was because he didn't want anyone wandering in and getting into their weapons and odd gymnastic equipment.
Danae went over to the CD player by the large mirrored wall, playing the mix CD that was already in there. "Must we listen to Eye of the Tiger every time we train?" James sighed.
"If you'd rather not listen to this." Danae skipped a song, going to something fairly fast paced. "Can we get a cat?"
"No," James said instantly. "You know I'm allergic."
"How about a dog?" Danae wrapped her hands, facing a punching back. "You're not allergic to those."
"No. Perhaps, later, we'll consider a ranch."
Danae began beating the bag with a sturdy rhythm. "Where? Montana? North Dakota? Somewhere in Europe? You know, we didn't spend long in Africa, maybe we could do that. I bet the Council will let us pick our next destination."
"Danae." James frowned, taking out a curved knife and wiping in on his shirt to clear off the dust. "It would have to be. closer."
"California."
"Haven't you noticed something, Danae? I have my own dance studio. We have an actual house. We live on a God-forsaken Hellmouth!" James set the dagger back on the wall. "They stationed us here! We're bloody caught in Nevada!"
Danae stopped, staring disbelievingly. "Are you taking the piss?"
"No, no jokes." James slammed his fist against the wall, unable to calm himself. "We're stuck."
"Bugger that!" Danae laughed, but it was shaky, not humorous. "Why not Paris? Why not Rio? Why not anywhere but here?"
James shook his head. "There's no time for explanation now, especially not while I'm angry. Keep training. You still have time before class today."
"Class? Hadn't we planned on having me home schooled?" Danae kicked the bag hard. "I've never gone to a day of public or private school in my life!"
"You're already registered," James said. He considered sword practice for that morning, but decided Danae shouldn't have anything sharp at the moment. He took out two quarter staffs, not bothering to put padding on -- Danae would beat him with or without, but she'd be pretty careful not to hurt him.
Danae took one of the staffs, getting into ready stance. "Why can't you teach me? Don't you have time for me any more?" She looked hurt, but James knew it was just an act.
"I do, but there are other responsibilities as a Watcher. paperwork, for one thing." He rolled his eyes. "A lot of it. And I've been thinking about converting the upstairs of the studio into a flat."
"Why?" Danae asked curiously, but she still looked sort of hurt. Maybe it wasn't an act. "We have a house already."
"En garde," James said, moving forward to begin attacking the potential Slayer. "In case we ever have company, or if we have to research all night. I could also put my scrolls and texts up there.
"And that's why you're sending me to hell."
"That's the gist of it. You should realize that you're very time consuming." James tried to strike at her head, but she blocked with no real thought. Danae struck him squarely in the side, then swept his feet out from under him. Sitting on his chest, she held her staff as though ready to kill. His chest heaved with heavy breathing under her.
"Me? Time consuming?" Danae shrugged, setting her staff down. She sat back thoughtfully. "I suppose I am. But it is your job. What now, sensei?"
"You could get off my chest, for one thing," James said, sounding strained.
"Oh, sorry!" Danae stood up, getting off him. She held out her hand, offering to help him up. He took it, and she pulled him standing. "I'll go this year. But can you get back to home schooling me next year?"
"We'll see," James said, smiling. Danae smiled back.
~~~~~
Eric Black hummed to himself, leaning back in his chair happily. Things were good after retirement, and he could just relax and enjoy himself. His life got no better.
He didn't notice the slight earthquake, the small shudder that rippled through the earth. But why should he have felt it? His frail body could feel nothing other than the soft stirring of the lake. Eric didn't feel when the water began to churn. In his half-sleep state, he pulled his hat lower over his eyes.
The water erupted, tossing his small boat into the air. With a yell, Eric toppled out, hitting the surface hard.
A slimy head emerged from the lake, large eyes blinking uncertainly in all the light. Roaring, the beast held out a hand, and the ship burst into flame. Dredging himself upward, Eric watched the monster raise himself up and walk slowly across the settling surface of the lake.
"Holy mother," Eric murmured.
~~~~~
Danae stared disbelievingly. "It's. horrible. I've never seen anything so terrifying."
"High school isn't that bad," James assured her. Students were entering the building slowly, talking and laughing as though they had known each other for their whole lives -- which they probably had. He turned up his wrist, looking at his watch. "Danae, I have to get going. Come to the dance studio after class."
"Sir, yes sir," Danae said sarcastically, saluting him crookedly.
She went confidently inside, although her brightness was short-lived. Looking around the large entrance area, Danae glanced at each hall (of which there were six) confusedly. A large skylight above her provided much light, and a second floor loomed overhead. Where was she was supposed to get her schedule?
A girl appeared at her shoulder. "You look lost."
Danae nodded. The mousy girl pointed to the hall to the far right of the first floor. "Offices are that way. You can get a map of the school and your schedule down there."
Danae thought for a moment, then turned to face the girl again. "Thank--" The girl had disappeared. "You?"
Shrugging, Danae followed the instructions, and in little time found herself in her homeroom class. The room was bare, with no whimsical posters or inspirational art on the walls. The teacher, monotonous and dull, sent her immediately to her seat, gave a brief introduction and vague rule list, then launched in on the history of the town.
History? Danae had never heard so much bullshit.
Everything she said was obviously misinformation provided by the government or Watchers' Council. Danae honestly tried to pay attention, but once the teacher started in on all the old gangs that used to be in the area, she had no choice but to doodle aimlessly.
She was in the middle of making a grid without a ruler (and doing a spanking good job, if she said so herself), when Danae suddenly drew a squiggled line -- an earthquake.
A wave of nausea hit her, and she held onto the sides of her desk to keep from falling over. Breathing heavily, Danae's eyes closed. No one else seemed to have noticed.
"Are you all right, Miss Gray?" the teacher asked.
"I. need to go to the toilets," Danae said thickly, stumbling out of the classroom. Running for the bathroom, she went in and took out her cell phone. Speed dialing one, a very irritated James answered shortly.
"Yes, Danae?"
"There was an earthquake."
"So? They're perfectly normal." She could hear him shuffling through papers. "I'm really busy right now--"
"It wasn't perfectly normal," Danae insisted. "It was. evil."
He sighed, exasperated. "If you'd like, we can discuss this at the studio. after school."
Danae frowned, hanging up. The urge to vomit had passed. Leaning on the to look closely at herself, her brow furrowed. Was she completely crazy? Had she imagined it?
No, she decided. It had happened.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Danae headed back to class.
~~~~~
A Nevada wind blew softly through the area, Danae reclined a bit and put the rest of a cookie in her mouth, smiling at the note that had come with it -- "Good girl for staying this long. Have a cookie as reward." Folding it twice, she held it up, and the wind carried it away. Knowing James, he'd enchanted it to return to him -- which was why she'd written "Thank you. Much appreciated. I hate you for sending me here" at the bottom. He had quite the knack for magic, but unfortunately, Danae had absolutely no such talent.
"How'd you get up there?" a voice called from several meters below her.
Danae glanced down to the base of the tree (she had to be at least seven meters from the ground), grinning broadly at what she saw.
A group of three people stood below, one the dirty-blond haired mousy girl from earlier. She was obviously the one who had spoken, but her two companions looked more interested. The second of the group was another girl, blonde and slightly chubby. She was very perky and attractive. The third, however, was who caught Danae's eye.
He was probably about Danae's height, with light brown hair. He's hot, Danae decided instantly. Very hot.
"I climbed." Danae braced herself, dropping a few feet down the tree. She snagged a branch, holding on and dangling for a moment before falling the rest of the way. It would have been a lie to say that it hadn't hurt to land after such a distance, but she didn't mind.
"You're new," the shortest girl said bluntly. As an after thought, she added, "I'm Sara, by the way."
"Danae." She hefted her bookbag onto her shoulder easily from where it had rested under the tree.
"I'm Gabi, and our quiet counterpart is Anthony," Gabi said, ever-cheerful.
"Pleasure," Danae replied, shaking hands with Anthony. Their fingers touched, and an image of them flashed in her head quickly. Blushing, Danae shook her head to clear it.
Gabi looked at her curiously. "Are you British?"
"I was born in France, but I'm an American. Why?"
"You have an odd accent. Definitely foreign." Gabi glanced around. "Want to sit?"
The four crossed to a picnic table under the shadow of the building, and Danae settled in easily. She had a problem with sitting normally, so she stretched over an entire bench, tapping her boots on the seat to an invisible rhythm. "I travel. a lot," Danae said in manner of explanation.
"Who are your parents?" Sara asked.
Danae froze, ice running through her veins. She didn't want to speak of them, especially with strangers. The only person she could talk to about them was James. "I don't live with my parents. I live with my Wa-- er. Godfather. James."
"James Edwards?" Anthony asked suddenly.
"Yeah."
"Runs Dance Watch?" Danae decided she liked the sound of his voice. She smiled shyly.
"You know him?"
"Is he a fairy?" Gabi asked mischievously.
"No," Danae said hurriedly, automatically defending her Watcher. Realizing it was a joke, she put a thoughtful look on her face. "Then again."
Everyone laughed, even Anthony. "You know, not everyone who dances is gay," he said firmly.
"He dances at your studio," Sara said in a stage whisper.
"Really?" Danae asked. "Maybe I'll see you there sometime."
"Maybe."
~~~~~
A heavy rhythm underscored James' intermediate ballet class, an assortment of men and women dancing together. Danae sat, humming quietly, in the corner, drumming the beat on her knees. James was directing them on the opposite side of the room, wearing jeans instead of dance gear -- it had been ballroom dancing earlier, and he hadn't felt up to ballet that day.
Danae spotted Anthony the moment he arrived. Smiling, she waved. Anthony skirted the dancers and joined her as Danae stood to meet him.
"Hi Anthony," she greeted.
Anthony nodded at her. "Hello, Danae," he replied. He looked around. "Do you dance?"
"Not ballet, more ballroom and tango. You can't live with a dance fanatic like James and not pick up a few things," Danae said. James was calling for a cool down, and Danae gestured to a door. "If you need to talk to James, we can go in back and wait. He won't be long."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."
"We can go in back for that, too," Danae said with a grin. She led him to the room where she and James often trained, but the mirrors were covered in curtains so the light through the windows wouldn't blind them.
"What's all this for?" Anthony asked, following Danae's example of removing their shoes before walking on the blue mats covering the floor.
"So, what's up?" Danae asked, ignoring his question about the gymnastic equipment. She walked over to the weapons cabinets. Taking the key from her pocket, she locked them, turning back just in time to catch a heavy training ball Anthony had thrown.
"That's what I thought," Anthony said. "You have crosses tattooed on your palms. Why?"
Danae turned her palms up, looking at the markings. "I don't remember," she said hollowly. They had appeared sometime three years ago. of which time she had little memory.
Anthony crossed over to her, taking her hands. Danae was holding her breath from being so close to him, and he ran his fingers over her palms. "Does it hurt?" he whispered.
"All the time," Danae said softly.
She looked at him, and he looked at her. The room seemed absolutely silent except for the beating of her own heart. Anthony bent forward, Danae's eyes closing --
"Sorry I'm late," James said pleasantly, entering the room. Danae and Anthony practically flew apart, and Danae was sure her face was as bright red as it felt hot. James took in the scene for a moment, eyebrow raised, then clapped his hands. "Right, you two, Danae has a lot to do, and I'm sure you were just going."
"Right," Anthony said, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, Danae."
Anthony all but ran from the room, and probably the entire studio. Danae turned apologetically to James. "Sorry, James, we were just--"
"No need for any of that," he said. He leaned against the wall, pointing at her. "But remember rule six."
"'A Slayer must not compromise her position nor abilities in close friendships or relationships. This only places citizens in more danger and ensues in more work and trouble for the Slayer,'" Danae quoted mechanically.
James nodded. "Precisely. Now, what of that earthquake you spoke of so direly earlier?"
Danae crossed to the Japanese screen that stood in the corner that they'd picked up on their last trip to the country. She took her training clothes off the stool and began to change as she filled him in.
"I maintain my original verdict," James said after she finished. "Your reaction was probably from your sensitivity and enhanced awareness of the area around you." He glanced at her when she came out from behind the screen. "I don't know if I'm well enough for training right now. I think I'm coming down with a bit of the flu."
Danae pursed her lips, standing with her fists on her hips. "Fine. Don't believe me. It's not like I'm the Potential Slayer and you're the wally of a Watcher who has no special powers or anything."
"Now, Danae, that's not fair--"
"No. It's not." She stormed to the door, putting her shoes back on. "I'm going back to the house to see if there's anything to this earthquake. You can stay here and dance like a-- like a fairy all you want. Bet you it's an apocalypse." She left the room swiftly.
James stood still for a moment. That had hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn't follow her until everyone had left the studio, so he simply sighed and went back to where the dancers were congregated.
~~~~~
Nikki stepped slowly onto the subway car, the door hissing shut behind her. She looked quickly around -- she had tracked the vampire she had been fighting here. He wasn't there, however, and she had not given him enough time to get out before she arrived.
Ready for a trap, Nikki stepped hesitantly forward. The subway rocked, beginning to move, and --
SLAM!
Her head struck the wall, arm pinned up behind her back. Nikki kicked backwards, connecting with Spike's knee, and she threw her head back to hit him in the face. He let go.
Spinning, Nikki struck him square in the stomach twice, then kicking high at his head. Spike pulled back fast enough for her to miss, and he took her ankle, throwing her off-balance. Nikki rolled, kicking at his feet. Spike leapt up, avoiding her easily. He laughed -- it was no more than a game to him.
Nikki jumped up again, backing away. He had the upper hand, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. Running forward, Nikki threw Spike to the ground, straddling him, hands around his throat. She pressed harder, trying to get a good enough grip to--
The lights flickered darkly, a loud shrieking filling their ears. Spike sat up quickly, throwing her off-balance. Flipping them over so he was on top, he cut off her air passage deftly. He smiled down at her, almost as though he were fond (mad, really) of her, then snaked one hand around to the back of her head. He twisted his hands quickly.
SNAP!
Danae's back arched, hands clawing at the air. A flowing heat entered her nose and mouth, filling her vision with red, and her muscles contracted, then released. She fell back onto the bed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, clutching at her sheets.
Her eyes flew open, rumbling thunder entering her ears. What could have been a roaring tide deafened her, everything in the room shockingly bright.
"James!" Danae cried.
~~~~~
"James!" Danae cried.
Pressing her hands over her ears, Danae squeezed her eyes shut, drawing her legs up to her chest. The sound of her own heart was hurting her, the moon outside stinging her eyes. It wasn't long before another heartbeat came in the area, feet pounding against the ground.
"Danae! What is it?" James said, voice a roar.
"It hurts," Danae whimpered, breathing heavily. "It hurts so bad."
The bed shifted, and James climbed on with her. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, prying one of her hands off her ear. "What hurts, Danae?"
"It's so loud, and so bright, and I dreamt I died, but I wasn't me, I was another Slayer." Danae said quickly, words jumbling together. James held her silently, thinking hard. It sounded like the symptoms of. but it couldn't be. She grabbed his wrist tightly, over-compensating with her grip. James winced.
"I need to go to the studio," he whispered softly, thinking even that would be too loud. "I can't leave you here alone. Can you walk?"
She nodded, and James stood back up. He took one of her blankets, covering her gently and guiding her to her feet. "I'm not an invalid," she said, sounding almost like her normal self.
He laughed. "No, I suppose you're not." James let go of her, running to get his jacket and keys. Slipping on shoes quickly, he turned just in time to see Danae trip on the stairs, tumbling down. At her side immediately, James scooped her up into his arms. She began to protest, but he just said, "No time for that now."
Awkwardly opening their door, he took Danae out to the car and gently deposited her on the passenger side seat. He crossed quickly to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car. Danae was pressed against the window, staring outside as though she had never seen it before. "Is it any better?" he asked, pulling the car out of the driveway. It bounced a bit over the curb, but Danae looked more fascinated than injured.
She nodded. "It's not so. painful. It's better when we move." Danae touched the window. "What's that orange glow?"
James glanced at where she pointed. "I. don't know. It looks like fire."
A yellow-gold tinge was in the sky above the town to the south west, towards the dance studio. It lit the entire area, but the cause of the fire -- nor the fire itself -- was visible from where they were. It was uncomfortably close, however. "I reckon we'll find out, won't we?" James said, speeding up the car.
"What's happening to me?" Danae asked, pressing gently against the window. James leaned over and caught her arm before she pushed the glass out of the van. She moved the offending hand to her lap. "Sorry."
"I'm not honestly sure what's going on," James said, "but it sounds like you had a flawed Calling."
"Calling for what?"
"Called to be a Slayer."
~~~~~
In the pre-dawn stillness, anyone in Bryony could have heard the enormous splashing coming from Lake Tahoe. Had anyone been awake, that is. The slumbering masses were, however, awoken when the eight-foot, horny salamander ignited the dry cleaners at the south west end of Main Street.
The chemicals at the dry cleaners, when heated, exploded forcibly, raining burning debris on the small town. Several more buildings caught, casting an orange glow on the sky. The people, fearful for the safety of their lives and property, ran screaming from their houses into the streets.
~~~~~
Danae stared incredulously at James. "What?" she asked, voice still fairly quiet. "Called for. being a Slayer. Who died?"
"I believe the current Slayer is named Faith," James said in a rush. His hair was in a state of disarray from how he kept running his hands through it, and his knuckles were white from clenching on the wheel so hard. "She's supposed to be in protective custody, though. I-I'm not sure what to do if you are a Slayer--"
Danae's brow furrowed, and she looked forward -- only to see a wall of fire raise before them. "Watch out!" she cried.
James' eyes widened, and he turned right hard, running onto the curb. Danae's seat belt went taught, bruising her collar bone to keep her from hitting the windshield. James slammed hard on the brakes, stopping them just short of hitting the dance studio.
"Are you all right?" he asked urgently. Danae groaned, unbuckling and touching her bruise tenderly.
"Fine," she said. Danae re-wrapped the blanket around her arms. "What caused that?"
"I don't-- know." James said, his voice trailing off. He looked up, beyond the wall of flames, and his mouth fell open. "Actually, it was probably that." He pointed.
Danae followed his gaze, and squinted against the brightness of the fire briefly -- then saw it. Probably eight feet tall, with large eyes and ridges of horns running down its head and back, a demon was looking down at them quizzically. "Whurf?" it asked stupidly, blinking wetly.
"Bloody hell," Danae said. "Am I supposed to fight that thing?"
It raised a clawed hand, pointing at the vehicle. "Get out!" James ordered, throwing his door open and launching himself out. Danae shoved herself out, rolling to the side of the dance studio. She hit her bruised collar bone on a rock, crying out as the car exploded, shrapnel raining down on them.
The demon growled, stepping towards her, the large bulk moving sluggishly. Danae grimaced, standing slowly. Her ears still rang from the explosion --
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.
"Run, Danae!" James yelled, dodging the burning car as he came towards her quickly. She tried to move, but couldn't make herself even think.
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --
Danae screamed, James catching up to her and throwing her inside the studio. He followed quickly, slamming the door shut on the demon. Danae put her hands over her ears. "Stop," she cried. "Stop!"
James looked out a window, watching the demon look in and lose interest. He sighed heavily when it moved on, shuffling its great feet. He slid down to the ground, bowing his head for a moment.
Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.
She broke down, unable to do anything else.
She had failed.
A weight seemed to lift off Danae's chest -- she took a gasping breath of air. The ringing in her ears died down, and the light sensitivity faded. She felt powerful, strong. perfect. Danae forced herself to a standing position, looking at her hands. They seemed to glow.
"Get me a sword," Danae said steadily, looking out the window.
James looked up. "What?"
"Get me a sword," she repeated.
James scrambled to his feet, looking at her. "You can barely stand. you can't fight a demon." He looked her over. "Or. maybe you can stand. But if I talk above a whisper, you lose it."
Danae rolled her eyes characteristically. "Don't worry. Get me a sword, or I'll do it myself and break the case."
Raising an eyebrow, James ran for the weapons cabinet. He opened it swiftly, drawing out a broadsword with an intricate carving on the hilt. He returned, tossing it to Danae. She caught it easily. "Stay in here," she ordered him. "The. demon thingy. is going down the street, towards our house, so you'll be safe." A thought occurred to her, and she growled. "Towards our house! Hell, I have to go."
She reached for the door handle. "I can't just stay here!" James said.
"Fine, look for a. spell or something." She yanked the door open.
Danae jogged purposefully towards the demon, sword ready. She didn't know what was happening to her -- it was all so confusing, so odd, this power built in her muscles. She wasn't tiring at all from running carrying such a heavy weapon, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her feel giddy, almost. euphoric.
"Hey, ugly!" Danae called. Will work on wittiness later, she promised herself. "Hey, over here!"
It stopped it's slow, but constant, march down the street. It turned, hands sparking, large eyes focusing on her. "Grurf," it said.
"Yeah, grurf, whatever," Danae said, running even faster now. She bounced a little on her feet, like she had seen the high jumpers do, and took her mark. Danae jumped up, higher than she had seen anyone jump before, flipping over the head of the demon. She jabbed her sword at it -- forget form and grace -- piercing its side.
The demon roared, throwing out its fist and striking Danae. She fell back.
"Damn!" Danae moved forward more cautiously, but James ran nearby. "James! You're supposed to be at the studio!" She blocked one of the demon's hits.
"Sorry!"
"Get in the house!"
~~~~~
James ran inside their house, flying up the stairs quickly. He went into his bedroom, throwing open the closet. "Where's my element incantations book?" he asked himself, checking the spines. "Demons of the Mediterranean, Virile Vampires, Princess Diaries. what's that doing there? Oh, there it is!" He grabbed it, going back down the stairs quickly, flipping through it to find just what he looked for.
Danae hit the window, landing in a shower of glass shards. She stood quickly, many cuts on her arms. James tucked the book under his arm, taking a blanket off the couch--
"Wait," Danae said. She held up an arm, and James watched the cuts begin to seal. Unable to believe his eyes, he took her wrist and pulled her to him, looking under the blood.
"How--?"
Danae smiled, jumping back out the window.
~~~~~
Danae dodged a few punches and flames from the demon, but it was obvious she couldn't win. She moved forward, striking at it, but it the monster just backhanded her. Wiping the blood off her chin from her cut lip, Danae turned.
"James! Help would be good now!"
He came out of the house, the book in his hands. He squinted at it. "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens."
James pointed his hand at the demon and repeated, "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens!" A clear blue beam shot from his fingers, hitting the demon. With a final "Whurf?", the demon froze completely, still. "Decapitate it!"
Danae leapt up again, heaving hard with the sword--
The demon's head fell to the ground, and the rest of it followed shortly. Danae stepped back, dropping her sword. Eyelids fluttering, James caught her before she could hit the ground. "I'm okay," Danae insisted. She bent down, picking her sword back up. "We better get rid of. this." She waved her hand at the two pieces of the demon.
~~~~~
Danae placed her foot on the salamander demon's shoulder, pushing it out into the waters of Lake Tahoe. Its passing left a large dent in the sand, and the waves surged to accept its body. James handed her the head, eyes glassy and all wetness gone. She examined it one final time, then closed its eyelids.
She threw the head into the lake, plunk audible in the clear night. James jammed his fists further into his jeans pockets, watching it sink.
"Think they'll get the message?" Danae asked.
"The demons in the Hellmouth? Probably." He scratched his chin and yawned. "That won't stop them, though. Now that it's open again, vampires, demons, and all things unpleasant will be drawn here. You have quite a job ahead."
"Were you serious when you said you think I was Called?" Danae questioned, voicing the thought that had been bothering her.
James was silent for a moment, then put his arm around Danae's shoulders. "Let's go back to the studio, and then we'll talk."
~~~~~
Danae wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her upper arms. She leaned on the concrete barrier around the top of the roof, and although a chilly wind blew, she didn't shiver from the temperature. James appeared at her side, giving her a sweater.
"I set up the couch for you," James said gently. "It's not the best, but it's the most comfortable I can manage tonight. I'm sure the Council will give us some money to get some nice new furniture if we need it."
Danae nodded. She hesitated, looking up at James. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Looking back over the town, she cocked her head to the side. "It's almost kind of pretty -- or it would be, if our house wasn't down there burning."
The town was spread in front of them, flames leaping and dancing from many a building. Fire fighters traveled about, trying to get a hold of things -- James had warded the studio against fire, so they were safe there. Their house of the past three or four months, however, had no such luck. Danae really had nothing of emotional value there (the only object that really mattered to her was the cross around her neck), but it still hurt.
"I think you were Called," James said abruptly. "There are two kinds of Callings, you see: natural, and unnatural. A Slayer is expected to die by the hand of a demon or the like. That's a natural death. Occasionally, the Slayer will die in a car crash, or by a mortal's hand, or an accident in general."
"And that's an unnatural Calling?"
"Precisely. In such an event, the body of the former Potential is overwhelmed, or shocked into being a Slayer. The body overcompensates, shifting into high gear. Until there is a successful Slay, she will feel sick, but in a fight, her system will be hyper-accelerated. This includes an incredible healing rate, great stamina, and strength abnormal even for a Slayer."
"And that's what happened to me," Danae finished.
"Yes."
"Will I return to. normal?"
"You're probably already nearing the norm for Slayers," James said, although he knew that wasn't what Danae had meant.
Danae shivered again. "How long will I live?"
"You could have a normal life span," James said. She could hear the lie in his words.
Danae didn't say anything more. She rested her head on James' shoulder and watched the town burn.
By-- RainTiger
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: Potential Slayer Danae Gray is raised by her Watcher after the death of her parents (two rogue demon hunters). Danae and James are stationed at Lake Tahoe (in Nevada), under which there is a long-dormant Hellmouth, and neither of them are too pleased about it. One night, after a demon mysteriously arises, Danae is suddenly Called -- becoming a full Slayer. It becomes a race against time to both learn and control her powers, and find out why she was Called when no Slayer had died.
A/N: Of course, I credit this all to Joss, even my original stuff. Danae never would have never been made without his influence. NONE OF THE CONVENTIONAL CHARACTERS ARE FEATURED THUS FAR. Sorry if they're all that interests you. You can also find Danae (and any episodes so far that aren't written by RainTiger) at danae-vs.50megs.com.
~~~~~
Things were dark under the trees at night, but then, they were often dark in the day as well. Everything around pressed in on a small clearing with a small building, and, as she came into view, a small girl. She stumbled into the relatively clear space, foot catching on a rock. The girl tumbled downward, face splattering in the mud. Somehow, the rain was getting through, and should have soothed her cuts, but it didn't.
Even though she weighed no more than seventy pounds, her left wrist collapsed under her when she forced herself to her hands and knees. Testing it, she thought it was sprained or broken. Instead of crying out, as most would do, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Keep it together, Danae," she murmured to herself. Using her teeth, Danae ripped a strip from her tank top, binding her arm as best she could, and not doing too bad a job. It wouldn't last long, but it held her wrist in place. Hopefully, it wouldn't have the same fate as her ill-healed broken nose.
Danae climbed back to her feet, using a combination of a wide stance and too-big boots to hold her up. She limped a few steps before realizing where she was.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the building, and she hunched a little to hold off the feeling the structure gave off -- a sickly humming deep in her marrow. "This is it," she promised herself. "No more."
Sinking back to the ground, Danae put her face in her good hand. She knew she should get up -- just a few more steps, and these hard months would pay off, and better yet, end. Just a few more st--
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.
"Run, Moira!"
At the sound of her mother's name, Danae forgot about the white-hot pain. Looking around the tree, she saw her mum shooting out of the now-open doorway, looking far worse than Danae. One eye was now an empty socket, and the other was circled in a dark bruise. One arm hung useless at her side, and blood coated her torso.
"M-mum?" Danae called weakly, trying to find her voice.
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --
Danae screamed, loud enough to wake the dead and kill the living -- but the beast did not stop, did not let go of her. It flexed its muscles, and the clearing went completely silent. Danae ran from behind her tree as it bounded away.
Her mother was thrown under a bush, only her upper torso and face visible -- and perhaps that was for the best. Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.
She broke down, unable to do anything else.
She had failed.
The pace of the rain seemed to increase as a heavy hand was set on her left shoulder. "It is time, Miss Gray."
~~~~~
"You're not paying attention," Joseph chided gently. "You can do much better, Danae. Watch Moira again."
Moira untied her blonde hair, running her fingers through it to make it neater, then retied it in a long ponytail. Taking a deep, easing breath, she bent slowly backwards, hands touching the ground. Kicking up, Moira held a perfect handstand for several seconds, then lowered her legs back down to complete the back flip smoothly.
"You can do it," Moira said, smiling.
Danae bounced, flipping backwards quickly without using her hands. She gave an elaborate bow. "I can do it -- in fact, I can do it better. Why so slow?"
"It isn't that you can do it, it's the control," Joseph explained. "Once more, Danae, and--"
Moira and Joseph both stopped, facing the wall leading outside. An audible rumbling filled Danae's ears.
"He's found us," Moira said softly after two long moments.
"Take Danae and run," Joseph said. "Now."
Joseph's calm disappeared, and he ran for the door. Moira pushed Danae in the opposite direction. "Run, Danae!" Moira cried.
Danae sat up suddenly, sheets tangled around her legs. Breathing heavily, as though she had been running all night, she looked around quickly. Why was she dreaming about that? That had been three years ago, when her parents were taken. It was also one of the very few memories of that general time period she had.
Something flickering at her bedside caught her eye. Turning a bit, she saw a small white candle. Lifting it, she blew it out gently. A certain energy seemed to leave the room.
"James!" Danae yelled, setting the candle back down.
"Yes?" the man replied, voice far off.
"We so have to talk." Jumping out of bed, Danae closed her door the rest of the way, shedding her pajamas.
"I'm in the kitchen making scrambled eggs."
"All right."
Throwing on exercise clothes, Danae brushed her hair. Her shower would have to wait until she got back from training that morning, as it always did. Bouncing down the stairs, she ran through the kitchen, dodging the island, and stopping at James' side.
James Edwards was tall, taller than Danae at least, and built lean. He had well-toned muscles from dancing and training, and Danae supposed that to an outside person, he would be very handsome. His black hair and ice-blue eyes truly set off his kindly face, and if he weren't so closed off, he'd probably have a date every night. He sort of resented being Danae's Watcher -- at the age of twenty six, he shouldn't have been loaded with raising a teenage girl. Unfortunately for him, his perfect memory made him a Watcher young.
She tapped her foot impatiently. "James. My wonderful, evil Watcher. You were doing it again."
"Doing what?" he asked innocently, transferring the newly made scrambled eggs onto two plates. He handed Danae one, setting his plate at the table in the dining room. She followed him.
"You put that bloody candle in my room again, James. You know the one. That cute little white number that makes me remember things." She sat down at the table, stabbing some egg with her fork. "If I see that thing again, I'm throwing it out my window."
"You need to see those things, Danae," James said. "You lack memory from about five months of your life."
"I remember enough," Danae protested.
"Very well. What happened when I found you?"
"Umm."
"After I found you?"
"Er."
"And how long did it take me to get you back to full health? How did your nose get broken? How many places did you look for your parents? When--"
"Enough." Danae held up a hand to stop him. "So my memory has holes. Big deal. Trauma made me forget for a reason."
James leaned forward, looking as though he wanted to pursue the matter further, but instead just shook his head. "Ready to train?"
"Aren't I always?"
James took off his black night robe, revealing a same-colored exercise outfit. "Let's go."
They left the house, not bothering to lock the door. It was hardly light enough to see out, but they made their way easily to their training center/dance studio. James locked the building nightly, but that was because he didn't want anyone wandering in and getting into their weapons and odd gymnastic equipment.
Danae went over to the CD player by the large mirrored wall, playing the mix CD that was already in there. "Must we listen to Eye of the Tiger every time we train?" James sighed.
"If you'd rather not listen to this." Danae skipped a song, going to something fairly fast paced. "Can we get a cat?"
"No," James said instantly. "You know I'm allergic."
"How about a dog?" Danae wrapped her hands, facing a punching back. "You're not allergic to those."
"No. Perhaps, later, we'll consider a ranch."
Danae began beating the bag with a sturdy rhythm. "Where? Montana? North Dakota? Somewhere in Europe? You know, we didn't spend long in Africa, maybe we could do that. I bet the Council will let us pick our next destination."
"Danae." James frowned, taking out a curved knife and wiping in on his shirt to clear off the dust. "It would have to be. closer."
"California."
"Haven't you noticed something, Danae? I have my own dance studio. We have an actual house. We live on a God-forsaken Hellmouth!" James set the dagger back on the wall. "They stationed us here! We're bloody caught in Nevada!"
Danae stopped, staring disbelievingly. "Are you taking the piss?"
"No, no jokes." James slammed his fist against the wall, unable to calm himself. "We're stuck."
"Bugger that!" Danae laughed, but it was shaky, not humorous. "Why not Paris? Why not Rio? Why not anywhere but here?"
James shook his head. "There's no time for explanation now, especially not while I'm angry. Keep training. You still have time before class today."
"Class? Hadn't we planned on having me home schooled?" Danae kicked the bag hard. "I've never gone to a day of public or private school in my life!"
"You're already registered," James said. He considered sword practice for that morning, but decided Danae shouldn't have anything sharp at the moment. He took out two quarter staffs, not bothering to put padding on -- Danae would beat him with or without, but she'd be pretty careful not to hurt him.
Danae took one of the staffs, getting into ready stance. "Why can't you teach me? Don't you have time for me any more?" She looked hurt, but James knew it was just an act.
"I do, but there are other responsibilities as a Watcher. paperwork, for one thing." He rolled his eyes. "A lot of it. And I've been thinking about converting the upstairs of the studio into a flat."
"Why?" Danae asked curiously, but she still looked sort of hurt. Maybe it wasn't an act. "We have a house already."
"En garde," James said, moving forward to begin attacking the potential Slayer. "In case we ever have company, or if we have to research all night. I could also put my scrolls and texts up there.
"And that's why you're sending me to hell."
"That's the gist of it. You should realize that you're very time consuming." James tried to strike at her head, but she blocked with no real thought. Danae struck him squarely in the side, then swept his feet out from under him. Sitting on his chest, she held her staff as though ready to kill. His chest heaved with heavy breathing under her.
"Me? Time consuming?" Danae shrugged, setting her staff down. She sat back thoughtfully. "I suppose I am. But it is your job. What now, sensei?"
"You could get off my chest, for one thing," James said, sounding strained.
"Oh, sorry!" Danae stood up, getting off him. She held out her hand, offering to help him up. He took it, and she pulled him standing. "I'll go this year. But can you get back to home schooling me next year?"
"We'll see," James said, smiling. Danae smiled back.
~~~~~
Eric Black hummed to himself, leaning back in his chair happily. Things were good after retirement, and he could just relax and enjoy himself. His life got no better.
He didn't notice the slight earthquake, the small shudder that rippled through the earth. But why should he have felt it? His frail body could feel nothing other than the soft stirring of the lake. Eric didn't feel when the water began to churn. In his half-sleep state, he pulled his hat lower over his eyes.
The water erupted, tossing his small boat into the air. With a yell, Eric toppled out, hitting the surface hard.
A slimy head emerged from the lake, large eyes blinking uncertainly in all the light. Roaring, the beast held out a hand, and the ship burst into flame. Dredging himself upward, Eric watched the monster raise himself up and walk slowly across the settling surface of the lake.
"Holy mother," Eric murmured.
~~~~~
Danae stared disbelievingly. "It's. horrible. I've never seen anything so terrifying."
"High school isn't that bad," James assured her. Students were entering the building slowly, talking and laughing as though they had known each other for their whole lives -- which they probably had. He turned up his wrist, looking at his watch. "Danae, I have to get going. Come to the dance studio after class."
"Sir, yes sir," Danae said sarcastically, saluting him crookedly.
She went confidently inside, although her brightness was short-lived. Looking around the large entrance area, Danae glanced at each hall (of which there were six) confusedly. A large skylight above her provided much light, and a second floor loomed overhead. Where was she was supposed to get her schedule?
A girl appeared at her shoulder. "You look lost."
Danae nodded. The mousy girl pointed to the hall to the far right of the first floor. "Offices are that way. You can get a map of the school and your schedule down there."
Danae thought for a moment, then turned to face the girl again. "Thank--" The girl had disappeared. "You?"
Shrugging, Danae followed the instructions, and in little time found herself in her homeroom class. The room was bare, with no whimsical posters or inspirational art on the walls. The teacher, monotonous and dull, sent her immediately to her seat, gave a brief introduction and vague rule list, then launched in on the history of the town.
History? Danae had never heard so much bullshit.
Everything she said was obviously misinformation provided by the government or Watchers' Council. Danae honestly tried to pay attention, but once the teacher started in on all the old gangs that used to be in the area, she had no choice but to doodle aimlessly.
She was in the middle of making a grid without a ruler (and doing a spanking good job, if she said so herself), when Danae suddenly drew a squiggled line -- an earthquake.
A wave of nausea hit her, and she held onto the sides of her desk to keep from falling over. Breathing heavily, Danae's eyes closed. No one else seemed to have noticed.
"Are you all right, Miss Gray?" the teacher asked.
"I. need to go to the toilets," Danae said thickly, stumbling out of the classroom. Running for the bathroom, she went in and took out her cell phone. Speed dialing one, a very irritated James answered shortly.
"Yes, Danae?"
"There was an earthquake."
"So? They're perfectly normal." She could hear him shuffling through papers. "I'm really busy right now--"
"It wasn't perfectly normal," Danae insisted. "It was. evil."
He sighed, exasperated. "If you'd like, we can discuss this at the studio. after school."
Danae frowned, hanging up. The urge to vomit had passed. Leaning on the to look closely at herself, her brow furrowed. Was she completely crazy? Had she imagined it?
No, she decided. It had happened.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Danae headed back to class.
~~~~~
A Nevada wind blew softly through the area, Danae reclined a bit and put the rest of a cookie in her mouth, smiling at the note that had come with it -- "Good girl for staying this long. Have a cookie as reward." Folding it twice, she held it up, and the wind carried it away. Knowing James, he'd enchanted it to return to him -- which was why she'd written "Thank you. Much appreciated. I hate you for sending me here" at the bottom. He had quite the knack for magic, but unfortunately, Danae had absolutely no such talent.
"How'd you get up there?" a voice called from several meters below her.
Danae glanced down to the base of the tree (she had to be at least seven meters from the ground), grinning broadly at what she saw.
A group of three people stood below, one the dirty-blond haired mousy girl from earlier. She was obviously the one who had spoken, but her two companions looked more interested. The second of the group was another girl, blonde and slightly chubby. She was very perky and attractive. The third, however, was who caught Danae's eye.
He was probably about Danae's height, with light brown hair. He's hot, Danae decided instantly. Very hot.
"I climbed." Danae braced herself, dropping a few feet down the tree. She snagged a branch, holding on and dangling for a moment before falling the rest of the way. It would have been a lie to say that it hadn't hurt to land after such a distance, but she didn't mind.
"You're new," the shortest girl said bluntly. As an after thought, she added, "I'm Sara, by the way."
"Danae." She hefted her bookbag onto her shoulder easily from where it had rested under the tree.
"I'm Gabi, and our quiet counterpart is Anthony," Gabi said, ever-cheerful.
"Pleasure," Danae replied, shaking hands with Anthony. Their fingers touched, and an image of them flashed in her head quickly. Blushing, Danae shook her head to clear it.
Gabi looked at her curiously. "Are you British?"
"I was born in France, but I'm an American. Why?"
"You have an odd accent. Definitely foreign." Gabi glanced around. "Want to sit?"
The four crossed to a picnic table under the shadow of the building, and Danae settled in easily. She had a problem with sitting normally, so she stretched over an entire bench, tapping her boots on the seat to an invisible rhythm. "I travel. a lot," Danae said in manner of explanation.
"Who are your parents?" Sara asked.
Danae froze, ice running through her veins. She didn't want to speak of them, especially with strangers. The only person she could talk to about them was James. "I don't live with my parents. I live with my Wa-- er. Godfather. James."
"James Edwards?" Anthony asked suddenly.
"Yeah."
"Runs Dance Watch?" Danae decided she liked the sound of his voice. She smiled shyly.
"You know him?"
"Is he a fairy?" Gabi asked mischievously.
"No," Danae said hurriedly, automatically defending her Watcher. Realizing it was a joke, she put a thoughtful look on her face. "Then again."
Everyone laughed, even Anthony. "You know, not everyone who dances is gay," he said firmly.
"He dances at your studio," Sara said in a stage whisper.
"Really?" Danae asked. "Maybe I'll see you there sometime."
"Maybe."
~~~~~
A heavy rhythm underscored James' intermediate ballet class, an assortment of men and women dancing together. Danae sat, humming quietly, in the corner, drumming the beat on her knees. James was directing them on the opposite side of the room, wearing jeans instead of dance gear -- it had been ballroom dancing earlier, and he hadn't felt up to ballet that day.
Danae spotted Anthony the moment he arrived. Smiling, she waved. Anthony skirted the dancers and joined her as Danae stood to meet him.
"Hi Anthony," she greeted.
Anthony nodded at her. "Hello, Danae," he replied. He looked around. "Do you dance?"
"Not ballet, more ballroom and tango. You can't live with a dance fanatic like James and not pick up a few things," Danae said. James was calling for a cool down, and Danae gestured to a door. "If you need to talk to James, we can go in back and wait. He won't be long."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."
"We can go in back for that, too," Danae said with a grin. She led him to the room where she and James often trained, but the mirrors were covered in curtains so the light through the windows wouldn't blind them.
"What's all this for?" Anthony asked, following Danae's example of removing their shoes before walking on the blue mats covering the floor.
"So, what's up?" Danae asked, ignoring his question about the gymnastic equipment. She walked over to the weapons cabinets. Taking the key from her pocket, she locked them, turning back just in time to catch a heavy training ball Anthony had thrown.
"That's what I thought," Anthony said. "You have crosses tattooed on your palms. Why?"
Danae turned her palms up, looking at the markings. "I don't remember," she said hollowly. They had appeared sometime three years ago. of which time she had little memory.
Anthony crossed over to her, taking her hands. Danae was holding her breath from being so close to him, and he ran his fingers over her palms. "Does it hurt?" he whispered.
"All the time," Danae said softly.
She looked at him, and he looked at her. The room seemed absolutely silent except for the beating of her own heart. Anthony bent forward, Danae's eyes closing --
"Sorry I'm late," James said pleasantly, entering the room. Danae and Anthony practically flew apart, and Danae was sure her face was as bright red as it felt hot. James took in the scene for a moment, eyebrow raised, then clapped his hands. "Right, you two, Danae has a lot to do, and I'm sure you were just going."
"Right," Anthony said, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, Danae."
Anthony all but ran from the room, and probably the entire studio. Danae turned apologetically to James. "Sorry, James, we were just--"
"No need for any of that," he said. He leaned against the wall, pointing at her. "But remember rule six."
"'A Slayer must not compromise her position nor abilities in close friendships or relationships. This only places citizens in more danger and ensues in more work and trouble for the Slayer,'" Danae quoted mechanically.
James nodded. "Precisely. Now, what of that earthquake you spoke of so direly earlier?"
Danae crossed to the Japanese screen that stood in the corner that they'd picked up on their last trip to the country. She took her training clothes off the stool and began to change as she filled him in.
"I maintain my original verdict," James said after she finished. "Your reaction was probably from your sensitivity and enhanced awareness of the area around you." He glanced at her when she came out from behind the screen. "I don't know if I'm well enough for training right now. I think I'm coming down with a bit of the flu."
Danae pursed her lips, standing with her fists on her hips. "Fine. Don't believe me. It's not like I'm the Potential Slayer and you're the wally of a Watcher who has no special powers or anything."
"Now, Danae, that's not fair--"
"No. It's not." She stormed to the door, putting her shoes back on. "I'm going back to the house to see if there's anything to this earthquake. You can stay here and dance like a-- like a fairy all you want. Bet you it's an apocalypse." She left the room swiftly.
James stood still for a moment. That had hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn't follow her until everyone had left the studio, so he simply sighed and went back to where the dancers were congregated.
~~~~~
Nikki stepped slowly onto the subway car, the door hissing shut behind her. She looked quickly around -- she had tracked the vampire she had been fighting here. He wasn't there, however, and she had not given him enough time to get out before she arrived.
Ready for a trap, Nikki stepped hesitantly forward. The subway rocked, beginning to move, and --
SLAM!
Her head struck the wall, arm pinned up behind her back. Nikki kicked backwards, connecting with Spike's knee, and she threw her head back to hit him in the face. He let go.
Spinning, Nikki struck him square in the stomach twice, then kicking high at his head. Spike pulled back fast enough for her to miss, and he took her ankle, throwing her off-balance. Nikki rolled, kicking at his feet. Spike leapt up, avoiding her easily. He laughed -- it was no more than a game to him.
Nikki jumped up again, backing away. He had the upper hand, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. Running forward, Nikki threw Spike to the ground, straddling him, hands around his throat. She pressed harder, trying to get a good enough grip to--
The lights flickered darkly, a loud shrieking filling their ears. Spike sat up quickly, throwing her off-balance. Flipping them over so he was on top, he cut off her air passage deftly. He smiled down at her, almost as though he were fond (mad, really) of her, then snaked one hand around to the back of her head. He twisted his hands quickly.
SNAP!
Danae's back arched, hands clawing at the air. A flowing heat entered her nose and mouth, filling her vision with red, and her muscles contracted, then released. She fell back onto the bed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, clutching at her sheets.
Her eyes flew open, rumbling thunder entering her ears. What could have been a roaring tide deafened her, everything in the room shockingly bright.
"James!" Danae cried.
~~~~~
"James!" Danae cried.
Pressing her hands over her ears, Danae squeezed her eyes shut, drawing her legs up to her chest. The sound of her own heart was hurting her, the moon outside stinging her eyes. It wasn't long before another heartbeat came in the area, feet pounding against the ground.
"Danae! What is it?" James said, voice a roar.
"It hurts," Danae whimpered, breathing heavily. "It hurts so bad."
The bed shifted, and James climbed on with her. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, prying one of her hands off her ear. "What hurts, Danae?"
"It's so loud, and so bright, and I dreamt I died, but I wasn't me, I was another Slayer." Danae said quickly, words jumbling together. James held her silently, thinking hard. It sounded like the symptoms of. but it couldn't be. She grabbed his wrist tightly, over-compensating with her grip. James winced.
"I need to go to the studio," he whispered softly, thinking even that would be too loud. "I can't leave you here alone. Can you walk?"
She nodded, and James stood back up. He took one of her blankets, covering her gently and guiding her to her feet. "I'm not an invalid," she said, sounding almost like her normal self.
He laughed. "No, I suppose you're not." James let go of her, running to get his jacket and keys. Slipping on shoes quickly, he turned just in time to see Danae trip on the stairs, tumbling down. At her side immediately, James scooped her up into his arms. She began to protest, but he just said, "No time for that now."
Awkwardly opening their door, he took Danae out to the car and gently deposited her on the passenger side seat. He crossed quickly to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car. Danae was pressed against the window, staring outside as though she had never seen it before. "Is it any better?" he asked, pulling the car out of the driveway. It bounced a bit over the curb, but Danae looked more fascinated than injured.
She nodded. "It's not so. painful. It's better when we move." Danae touched the window. "What's that orange glow?"
James glanced at where she pointed. "I. don't know. It looks like fire."
A yellow-gold tinge was in the sky above the town to the south west, towards the dance studio. It lit the entire area, but the cause of the fire -- nor the fire itself -- was visible from where they were. It was uncomfortably close, however. "I reckon we'll find out, won't we?" James said, speeding up the car.
"What's happening to me?" Danae asked, pressing gently against the window. James leaned over and caught her arm before she pushed the glass out of the van. She moved the offending hand to her lap. "Sorry."
"I'm not honestly sure what's going on," James said, "but it sounds like you had a flawed Calling."
"Calling for what?"
"Called to be a Slayer."
~~~~~
In the pre-dawn stillness, anyone in Bryony could have heard the enormous splashing coming from Lake Tahoe. Had anyone been awake, that is. The slumbering masses were, however, awoken when the eight-foot, horny salamander ignited the dry cleaners at the south west end of Main Street.
The chemicals at the dry cleaners, when heated, exploded forcibly, raining burning debris on the small town. Several more buildings caught, casting an orange glow on the sky. The people, fearful for the safety of their lives and property, ran screaming from their houses into the streets.
~~~~~
Danae stared incredulously at James. "What?" she asked, voice still fairly quiet. "Called for. being a Slayer. Who died?"
"I believe the current Slayer is named Faith," James said in a rush. His hair was in a state of disarray from how he kept running his hands through it, and his knuckles were white from clenching on the wheel so hard. "She's supposed to be in protective custody, though. I-I'm not sure what to do if you are a Slayer--"
Danae's brow furrowed, and she looked forward -- only to see a wall of fire raise before them. "Watch out!" she cried.
James' eyes widened, and he turned right hard, running onto the curb. Danae's seat belt went taught, bruising her collar bone to keep her from hitting the windshield. James slammed hard on the brakes, stopping them just short of hitting the dance studio.
"Are you all right?" he asked urgently. Danae groaned, unbuckling and touching her bruise tenderly.
"Fine," she said. Danae re-wrapped the blanket around her arms. "What caused that?"
"I don't-- know." James said, his voice trailing off. He looked up, beyond the wall of flames, and his mouth fell open. "Actually, it was probably that." He pointed.
Danae followed his gaze, and squinted against the brightness of the fire briefly -- then saw it. Probably eight feet tall, with large eyes and ridges of horns running down its head and back, a demon was looking down at them quizzically. "Whurf?" it asked stupidly, blinking wetly.
"Bloody hell," Danae said. "Am I supposed to fight that thing?"
It raised a clawed hand, pointing at the vehicle. "Get out!" James ordered, throwing his door open and launching himself out. Danae shoved herself out, rolling to the side of the dance studio. She hit her bruised collar bone on a rock, crying out as the car exploded, shrapnel raining down on them.
The demon growled, stepping towards her, the large bulk moving sluggishly. Danae grimaced, standing slowly. Her ears still rang from the explosion --
The door exploded outward, a metal shard piercing her in the shoulder. Had it been just a few inches to the left, she would be dead.
Instinctively rolling back, Danae forced herself behind a tree. Breathing heavily, Danae's cheeks became streaked with tears, clearing a path down the mud caked there. Her left hand would be no good in taking out her latest injury, but the right could hardly reach. Steeling herself, she ripped out the shard, throwing it aside roughly. Through the piercing agony, she noticed her left wrist was bent oddly again.
"Run, Danae!" James yelled, dodging the burning car as he came towards her quickly. She tried to move, but couldn't make herself even think.
"Hurry, Joseph," Moira urged. She hadn't seen or heard Danae.
And Danae didn't see her Da again -- there was another explosion, this time from within, and a loud roaring.
Something black as the night around them hurtled out, seizing Moira roughly. It took hold of each her arms and --
Danae screamed, James catching up to her and throwing her inside the studio. He followed quickly, slamming the door shut on the demon. Danae put her hands over her ears. "Stop," she cried. "Stop!"
James looked out a window, watching the demon look in and lose interest. He sighed heavily when it moved on, shuffling its great feet. He slid down to the ground, bowing his head for a moment.
Danae scrambled awkwardly over, wiping mud and rain from her eyes. She knelt down, looking for some sign of life -- but there was none.
Around Moira's neck was a cross on a silver chain, somehow clean and clear of all the muck around them. She had had that for as long as Danae could remember, and she had even once told her that someday, Danae could have it.
Slipping her arms tenderly around her mother's neck, Danae felt for the clasp and undid the chain, crying silently as she did so. Releasing the cross, Danae touched her mother's forehead. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner," Danae whispered.
She broke down, unable to do anything else.
She had failed.
A weight seemed to lift off Danae's chest -- she took a gasping breath of air. The ringing in her ears died down, and the light sensitivity faded. She felt powerful, strong. perfect. Danae forced herself to a standing position, looking at her hands. They seemed to glow.
"Get me a sword," Danae said steadily, looking out the window.
James looked up. "What?"
"Get me a sword," she repeated.
James scrambled to his feet, looking at her. "You can barely stand. you can't fight a demon." He looked her over. "Or. maybe you can stand. But if I talk above a whisper, you lose it."
Danae rolled her eyes characteristically. "Don't worry. Get me a sword, or I'll do it myself and break the case."
Raising an eyebrow, James ran for the weapons cabinet. He opened it swiftly, drawing out a broadsword with an intricate carving on the hilt. He returned, tossing it to Danae. She caught it easily. "Stay in here," she ordered him. "The. demon thingy. is going down the street, towards our house, so you'll be safe." A thought occurred to her, and she growled. "Towards our house! Hell, I have to go."
She reached for the door handle. "I can't just stay here!" James said.
"Fine, look for a. spell or something." She yanked the door open.
Danae jogged purposefully towards the demon, sword ready. She didn't know what was happening to her -- it was all so confusing, so odd, this power built in her muscles. She wasn't tiring at all from running carrying such a heavy weapon, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her feel giddy, almost. euphoric.
"Hey, ugly!" Danae called. Will work on wittiness later, she promised herself. "Hey, over here!"
It stopped it's slow, but constant, march down the street. It turned, hands sparking, large eyes focusing on her. "Grurf," it said.
"Yeah, grurf, whatever," Danae said, running even faster now. She bounced a little on her feet, like she had seen the high jumpers do, and took her mark. Danae jumped up, higher than she had seen anyone jump before, flipping over the head of the demon. She jabbed her sword at it -- forget form and grace -- piercing its side.
The demon roared, throwing out its fist and striking Danae. She fell back.
"Damn!" Danae moved forward more cautiously, but James ran nearby. "James! You're supposed to be at the studio!" She blocked one of the demon's hits.
"Sorry!"
"Get in the house!"
~~~~~
James ran inside their house, flying up the stairs quickly. He went into his bedroom, throwing open the closet. "Where's my element incantations book?" he asked himself, checking the spines. "Demons of the Mediterranean, Virile Vampires, Princess Diaries. what's that doing there? Oh, there it is!" He grabbed it, going back down the stairs quickly, flipping through it to find just what he looked for.
Danae hit the window, landing in a shower of glass shards. She stood quickly, many cuts on her arms. James tucked the book under his arm, taking a blanket off the couch--
"Wait," Danae said. She held up an arm, and James watched the cuts begin to seal. Unable to believe his eyes, he took her wrist and pulled her to him, looking under the blood.
"How--?"
Danae smiled, jumping back out the window.
~~~~~
Danae dodged a few punches and flames from the demon, but it was obvious she couldn't win. She moved forward, striking at it, but it the monster just backhanded her. Wiping the blood off her chin from her cut lip, Danae turned.
"James! Help would be good now!"
He came out of the house, the book in his hands. He squinted at it. "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens."
James pointed his hand at the demon and repeated, "Conglacio fusco, conglacio ardens!" A clear blue beam shot from his fingers, hitting the demon. With a final "Whurf?", the demon froze completely, still. "Decapitate it!"
Danae leapt up again, heaving hard with the sword--
The demon's head fell to the ground, and the rest of it followed shortly. Danae stepped back, dropping her sword. Eyelids fluttering, James caught her before she could hit the ground. "I'm okay," Danae insisted. She bent down, picking her sword back up. "We better get rid of. this." She waved her hand at the two pieces of the demon.
~~~~~
Danae placed her foot on the salamander demon's shoulder, pushing it out into the waters of Lake Tahoe. Its passing left a large dent in the sand, and the waves surged to accept its body. James handed her the head, eyes glassy and all wetness gone. She examined it one final time, then closed its eyelids.
She threw the head into the lake, plunk audible in the clear night. James jammed his fists further into his jeans pockets, watching it sink.
"Think they'll get the message?" Danae asked.
"The demons in the Hellmouth? Probably." He scratched his chin and yawned. "That won't stop them, though. Now that it's open again, vampires, demons, and all things unpleasant will be drawn here. You have quite a job ahead."
"Were you serious when you said you think I was Called?" Danae questioned, voicing the thought that had been bothering her.
James was silent for a moment, then put his arm around Danae's shoulders. "Let's go back to the studio, and then we'll talk."
~~~~~
Danae wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her upper arms. She leaned on the concrete barrier around the top of the roof, and although a chilly wind blew, she didn't shiver from the temperature. James appeared at her side, giving her a sweater.
"I set up the couch for you," James said gently. "It's not the best, but it's the most comfortable I can manage tonight. I'm sure the Council will give us some money to get some nice new furniture if we need it."
Danae nodded. She hesitated, looking up at James. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Looking back over the town, she cocked her head to the side. "It's almost kind of pretty -- or it would be, if our house wasn't down there burning."
The town was spread in front of them, flames leaping and dancing from many a building. Fire fighters traveled about, trying to get a hold of things -- James had warded the studio against fire, so they were safe there. Their house of the past three or four months, however, had no such luck. Danae really had nothing of emotional value there (the only object that really mattered to her was the cross around her neck), but it still hurt.
"I think you were Called," James said abruptly. "There are two kinds of Callings, you see: natural, and unnatural. A Slayer is expected to die by the hand of a demon or the like. That's a natural death. Occasionally, the Slayer will die in a car crash, or by a mortal's hand, or an accident in general."
"And that's an unnatural Calling?"
"Precisely. In such an event, the body of the former Potential is overwhelmed, or shocked into being a Slayer. The body overcompensates, shifting into high gear. Until there is a successful Slay, she will feel sick, but in a fight, her system will be hyper-accelerated. This includes an incredible healing rate, great stamina, and strength abnormal even for a Slayer."
"And that's what happened to me," Danae finished.
"Yes."
"Will I return to. normal?"
"You're probably already nearing the norm for Slayers," James said, although he knew that wasn't what Danae had meant.
Danae shivered again. "How long will I live?"
"You could have a normal life span," James said. She could hear the lie in his words.
Danae didn't say anything more. She rested her head on James' shoulder and watched the town burn.