Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BtVS characters. But Alisa and Kirk are mine

_This takes place about a hundred plus years after the prologue. Italics still mean flashbacks.

Relive

Chapter 1 'Welcome to Sunnydale, again'

2140 There have been 15 new slayers to date. Most haven't lived past ten years after they were called. Some tragically died after only two years. The current slayer is only 17. She's from Kansas and has just arrived in the hellmouth by call of her watcher, Kirk Thems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~```

Alisa Marshall rolled her neck and sighed heavily as the familiar sounds of night reached her ears washing over her in almost a calming song. The silence was more to her than the sounds of daylight, the chirping birds, the warming rays of sunlight, and even the reflections the light left on the ground were foreign to her. She hardly remembered the day. The night was where she belonged. She stalked death, killed, maimed, murdered. She was a creature of the darkness.

When Kirk had picked her up from the orphanage when she was sixteen she had thought that the government had finally gone insane, but she soon learned that she had been the insane one. It was insane for her to think that she would ever have a family. Her family included the night and a group of undead demons called vampires. Kirk was good to her. He helped her out gave her what she needed, but Kirk couldn't be a father. He was hardly old enough to live on his own. This was his first time as a Watcher and he was doing to best he could but Kirk was still young and Alisa found that most of the time she had to make up for his mistakes. She forgave him though, he was family, the only family she would ever have.

Alisa propped her foot on tombstone in front of her digging her boot clad heel into the granite and getting a good grip. She scanned the yard with a slight morbid fascination. Sunnydale Cemetery was really full. She knew from Kirk that this was the hellmouth, the brewing pot for all evil, but it amazed her that so many insisted on living in the small town when the death ratio exceeded that of downtown New York or the bad streets of Los Angeles. She had no idea why she was here. Every place was the same. They all had vampires, there were always things for her to kill. No matter where the pattered followed her like a plague.

"Might bloody keep it in mind to watch where you put your feet, Slayer."

Alisa looked up just in time to see a pale hand reach up from the darkness and take hold of her foot flinging her backwards. Her entire body lost it's balance and she hit the ground with a thud ringing in her ears. She looked around with a slight fear creeping inside her. She hadn't heard or scene anything before it happened. She swallowed her hand reaching into her coat pocket for her stake, but coming up empty as her eyes widened and she tried to see who it was that knocked her over. Whoever it was knew she was a slayer.

"Slow, bloody snail like if you ask me." The voice came again dripping heavily with British decent and character.

Alisa jumped to her feet her eyes catching sight of a black clad man with bleached blond hair standing in front of her. His face was very defined his cheek bones set deep into his handsome face and a pair of striking blue eye evident even in the impending darkness that surrounded them. He was smirking at her as he paced in front of her his hands shoved in his pockets. Alisa dropped to a fighting stance not really sure what to make of him. He didn't act like any vampire she'd met before, a demon maybe.

"So it's a fight you want." The man said shaking slightly with laughter. "That's a real joke there. I'm not going to fight you. It wouldn't be worth my time, sweetie." He said the last part mockingly and reached into his pocket and pulled out a long wooden stake. "You were planning to shove this through my heart I guess, but you didn't hang onto it very well. I pulled it right out of you pocket before you hit the ground."

"Who are you?" Alisa asked narrowing her eyes and balling her fists tighter. So he was a vampire.

"Doesn't matter really. I'm probably the oldest vampire you've met and I'm not exactly itching to end it yet. Not that I think you're a match for me anyway, but accidents happen." The vampire shrugged casually and gestured to the grave she had had her foot one only moment earlier. "You just happened to put your foot where you shouldn't."

Alisa looked down cautiously and read the name scrawled across the front. 'Buffy Anne Summers'. "Someone you killed?" Alisa asked mockingly. "Or are you waiting for them to rise. Made yourself a new friend." She watched as the vampire sucked in some unneeded air and laughed.

"Full of the mocking huh? No wonder the baddies hate ya. Only seventeen and already so feared." He laughed again and narrowed his eyes. "but if you know what's good for you won't talk about her like that anymore."

"How do you know I'm a slayer?" She asked suddenly not off guard, but she relaxed slightly.

"You scream it girl. You're sitting all alone in a cemetery at soddin' one o'clock in the morning wielding a stake. I'd have to be an invalid to not know what you were." He reached into his pocket again and pulled the stake out. He twirled it in his fingers a slight smile crossing his face before he tossed it back to her. "Better hold on to that."

"Thanks." She said un-surely and grasped the stake tightly before putting it back in her jacket. "I think."

"Well I didn't come here to lecture you. I came her to visit someone that you just happened to be sitting on. I'm sure you have a patrol to perform so if you wouldn't mind sod off." The man waved his hand and pushed around her to stand in front of the grave.

Alisa didn't like being dismissed so quickly. He didn't even seem concerned that he had turned his back to her. She could kill him in a second and he didn't seem as if he cared. Someone she almost had the urge to walk away from him to leave him there to do whatever it was he was doing, but he was a vampire and she was slayer. She couldn't just leave him there to hurt people. Before she could give it another thought she jumped toward him her stake raised and prepared to dust him. What she didn't expect was the hand that wrapped around her wrist and twisted it viciously until the stake dropped from her fingers. Her mouth was opened wide, but nothing came out as she watched him narrow his eyes and cast her to the side with more annoyance than anger.

"Girl I told you I wasn't looking for a fight. I don't want to fight you. I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep pushing me I just might change my bloody mind. Now leave me alone." He growled his eyes flashing a momentary yellow before he turned back around and looked at the grave again.

Alisa was confused by his complete and total dismissal of her skills. To him she was no threat. Alisa was surprised by the wave of anger that swept over her. She had never not been intimidating. She was always taken seriously.

"Slayer, go away."

Alisa looked up from her cloud of anger and found the vampire again. He wasn't looking at her, but his eyes were clouded over and he stared at the grave intently. His hands were rummaging through his pockets before he pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and stuck on of the sticks in his mouth. He lit it with a bright silver lighter and replaced both items before he spoke again.

"I only come here a couple times a year. It's something that can't be helped and your the first bint who's gotten in my way. Now I'll be outta here in a couple of weeks. So why don't we stay away from one another." He took a lengthy drag on his cigarette and turned to look at her a small trail of smoke surrounding his face.

Alisa tensed. "I don't make deals with demons."

"Yeah well if it's got to be that way." He said slowly and stamped out the cigarette. "Figured it would be all the slayers I've ever met were almost the same. They were all stubborn. That they all had in common."

"You've met slayers before?" Alisa asked.

"Three formally you could say." He said causally and cast one last look at the large granite stone before turning to her again.

"You killed them."

He nodded slowly his bleached head nodding back and forth. "Bloody hell yes I've killed slayers before. That was a long time ago, girl. I only killed two."

"But you said you've met three. I...am I, am I the third." She asked her voice shaking far more than she would have liked it to.

"Little conceded there aren't we. No aren't the third one. Technically you would be the fourth." He smoked the last of his cigarette and looked back at the grave a distant look coming across his youngish face and all the sudden Alisa saw an age in him that wasn't possible. He looked old perhaps as old as he really was.

"What happened to the other one?" Alisa couldn't help the curiosity that wormed it's way into her mind. She just wanted to know. She had to know.

He snorted. "You sure are more chatty than the other ones. The third one hmm I hated her, I tried to kill her, I loved her, I killed her, and then I vowed to spend the rest of my 'unlife' with her. Satisfied." With that said he turned away from the grave and walked away. "I don't really have to be here until this Friday. How about you just stay out my way on that day all right." Without even a second glance at the girl he disappeared into the darkness.

Alisa watched him leave her mind reeling with the information. It didn't make any sense. What was he talking about? She didn't really feel like slaying anymore. She needed to talk to Kirk, maybe he had some answers to these questions and maybe he could tell her the identity of the bleached vampire. Alisa bent down and tucked the stake in her pocket before turning away from the graveyard and back toward the her house. There house wasn't far from the graveyard, easy shifts, Kirk had said. She was home within five minutes.

"You're back early. Is everything all right?" Kirk's deep voice wafted in from the kitchen and Alisa could just barely catch the scent of stale coffee hanging in the air. Kirk had been working non-stop since they'd gotten there.

"I ran into someone I thought I might need to ask you about." Alisa said and shrugged her way out of her light jacket and heard the dull clang as the stake banged on the back of the chair she set it on. She stretched slowly and brought her arms over her head before she rounded the corner. Her short brunette locks were secured to her head with an elastic and fell in small natural waves around her face.

"Oh who might that be?" Kirk asked shortly and looked up just briefly from his small flat laptop to make sure she was all right.

Alisa focused her green eyes on the man who was supposed to be her protector. His pale hair surrounded in head in an unkempt mess and a pair of thin rimmed glasses sat perched precisely on his nose. He wasn't but six years older than she was. He wasn't supposed to be fighting evil anymore than she was, but there he was.

"He didn't tell me who he was. He's a vampire though a very old on I'm guessing. He said he's killed two slayers." Alisa said evenly and actually smirked at the shocked expression that spread across her watcher's face.

"D-did you fight him?" He asked anxious.

"No, he didn't want to fight. In fact he just wanted me to leave him alone." Alisa shrugged and sunk into the chair just across from her watcher. "What do you think."

"I'm not really sure, but then again there are a lot of vampires running around that have managed to survive. I'll to look it up. Was there anything about him that would make him easier to find. Usually vampires, especially older ones, love to show off there reputations."

"Well this one didn't even seem to want to have anything to do with me. He only told me about the slayers because he slipped and said something about meeting three slayers before." Alisa pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and put her chin on her knee. "He had bleached blond hair, how he does that is beyond me, and blue eyes."

"Sounds more like a beach bum than a vampire." Kirk said dryly.

"Trust me." Alisa said rubbing her aching wrist absently. "He's all vampire. He wore a long leather duster and all black. I can't really remember anything else except he was cocky as hell. He wasn't even afraid of me."

Kirk frowned and bent back to his computer. "Some of that sounds slightly familiar. I'll check it out though. What was he doing out there, how did you come across him? Was he feeding?"

"Throw them at me all at once why don't you." Alisa complained. "He wasn't feeding in fact. He was mad because I had my foot on some grave he wanted to look at. I checked out the date on the stone. This chicks been dead since like 2000 and something."

"What was her name?"

"B...something Buffy something Summers." Alisa said slowly. "I think."

"Hmmm." Kirk mumbled falling into watcher mode. "I'll look it up. You just go to bed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~```````

Spike stepped out of the rising mist of the graveyard pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and stuck it between his lips. He didn't light it immediately but let it hang from his upper lip for a brief instant before pulling out his silver lighter and catching the end one fire. He took a long drag before taking it out of his mouth and taking another step forward. His gothic style boots with various straps and laces flapped around his ankles were the latest repair jobs had gone awire. He'd fixed the stupid things a million times. He knew that he should just buy some more, but it was hard to find any that he liked. These boots were classics. Spike stumbled over a patch of uneven earth and glanced down at his shoes the black rubber heel was coming undone again. Spike snorted unhappily and took another drag before announcing his misfortune out loud.

"Classic boots with no soles." He mumbled unhappily and flicked at the bottom of his shoe and pounded at the flapping heel attempting to push it back into place. It took a moment but on the last pound it stuck and Spike smiled slowly at the small triumph. With the minor problem solved Spike continued his walk and his smoke, retracing the steps he'd taken earlier. "Nothing lasts forever."

~~~~~~~~~~~`````

"Bloody hell!" Spike yelled loudly his voice puncturing the air like a dart. Spike narrowed his eyes at the demon he had been fighting and balled up his fist. He let the punch fly followed by a kick to the beast's gut. The demon didn't even have time to fight back before Spike pulled a branch off a nearby tree and smashed him over the head with it. The green scaly beast crashed to the ground in a pile of unconscious demon flesh and slime. "That's what you get ya wanker." Spike protested and dropped the clean end of the slime covered stick and looked over his shoulder briefly catching sight of the slayer. "Hand me that sword pet. I've got a job to finish."

Buffy pulled the sword out of the demon's chest bringing a trail of purple blood and a few chucks of gore out with it. "Ewww." Buffy said slowly and tucked a lock of her short blond locks behind her ear before turning to Spike. She tossed him the sword which he caught promptly and aimed for the beast's head taking it off cleanly.

"That's what you get." Spike told him readily even though it was obvious the creature would never hear his words. He jammed the sword into the soft earth of the cemetery and scowled.

"Jeez what'd he do to you?" Buffy asked as she gazed at the mess the cleaving had caused with a slight morbid curiosity before she turned back to Spike who was pacing menacingly a few feet away from her. After a minute he dropped to the ground and pulled his right boot off examining it closely.

"Kinda hard to see in the dark." Buffy said slowly still searching for an answer, but slightly amused by his display. "What happened?"

Spike rotated the shoe for a moment and set it on the grass beside him and pointed to the beheaded demon. "Those little buggers with the daggers, you know in their arms, well he took a swipe at me and I jumped out of the way."

"I'd figure you'd be happy about that." Buffy said bluntly and almost laughed at the patronizing gaze he scent her.

"Yeah well when I jumped the pillock caught my boot and ripped the buckles." He held up the ragged remains of his shoe and frowned. "I've had these things since, like the seventies."

Buffy laughed shortly and covered her mouth when she saw his expression. "Poor whittle Spikey." She said between giggles. "He has to go shopping."

"Very funny luv." Spike mumbled. "Try buying a pair of shoes on my budget."

"Oh come on." Buffy started, "it seems like if I'd been an arm you'd been less upset."

"I love my shoes." He protested and pulled the destroyed shoe back on his foot and tightened the strings still attached to compensate for the lack of buckles. "They make me look tough." He winked at her and hopped to his feet trying out what was left of his shoe. "Sides they have great arch support."

Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled the sword out of the ground beside the beheaded purple and green demon and came to stand at his side. "You're such a baby." She wiped the blade of her sword on the grass and put it back in the small sheath at her side. "Come on we have work to do. That is if you can still walk."

"I'll try luv, but I just don't know if I'll be any help." He said mockingly and hopped from one foot to the next. "Do I look off balance to you?"

Buffy slapped his arm none too lightly and grabbed hold of his duster. "Let's go we have work to do." She yanked him toward her and he fell into step behind her a slight grin coming across his lips. The rest of the night went off without a hitch. They only came across a couple of vamps that they dusted easily and patrol ended earlier than usual.

Spike headed home still lamenting silently about the loss of his shoes. He really had grown fond of them, they were like his trade mark. They were almost as important as his duster. Without his duster he just didn't feel right. Spike rolled his neck and stepped into the crypt and headed down the stairs. He only had a few hours before sunlight, he figured he might as well get to bed early.

Spike stripped off his clothes on his way to the bed and climbed in naked pulling the single sheet around his body as he started to drift off. Vaguely he realized it was about the first night he had gone patrolling with the slayer and it hadn't ended in a fight, physical or verbal. Maybe things between them were getting better. Spike rolled over and closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

``````````````

Spike felt something slam into his stomach and he grunted. This definitely wasn't the way he wanted to wake up. He forced his eyes open slowly and looked at what had hit him in the stomach. He narrowed his eyes at the offending object. It was a box wrapped in newspaper.

"What the hell?" He asked and sat up the sheet slipping off his naked torso and pooling around the box now in his lap.

"You sleep like the dead Spike." Buffy said from the other side of the room. "If I had been out to kill you, you'd be dead or well dust anyway." She smiled cockily and crossed her arms.

Spike snorted. "Not everyone is as quiet as you pet." He lifted a brow. "What are you doing here slayer?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know, but it could have something to do with the newspaper wrapped box that woke you." She started to smile but pushed the curl out of her lips and gestured toward the box.

Spike shifted and picked the box up shaking it slightly. Whatever was inside didn't move much. He shot her a suspicious glare. "This isn't some sort of jack-in-the-box deal is it?"

"Jack-in-the...what are you talking about?" Buffy asked.

"You know open the box something pops out, maybe a little stake attached to a spring." Spike made the motion with his hand of someone staking something.

"Trust me it's completely Spike safe, just open it up." She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to open it.

Spike gave her one last look before focusing on the package and slowly undoing the wrapping. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She was anxious even if she didn't want to appear to be. She was biting her lower lip slightly and her eyes were shining with anticipation. The only thing he could think that would bring her that much joy was his death. Despite his internal warnings he stripped the paper and lifted the lid to a black shoe box. Nestled on the inside among some white tissue paper was a pair of black combat type boots, much like the ones he owned.

"So do you like?" Buffy asked unable to hold her excitement.

Spike was in awe as he pulled out the shoe and looked it over. It was made of a expensive leather as far as he could tell. There were four buckles up the side of the shoe made of canvas that strapped to the other side. There was a row of strings under the buckles and the sole and tread on the shoes were thick. He turned it over almost not believing they were his.

He looked up slowly in confusion. "Why?" He asked slowly.

Buffy shrugged. "Didn't want you're feet to start hurting with no arch support." She smiled slowly. "Why don't you try em on. We can try em out. You know with a little patrolling."

Spike nodded as he watched her disappear from the lower part of his crypt and back to the top level. "Hurry up!" She called down at him.

Spike was still sitting there when she left the shoe clutched in his hand. 'It's just a shoe.' He told himself steadily. 'But she gave them to you. She was thinking about you.' Spike grinned and climbed out of bed. He pulled on his clothes and the shoes lastly. They fit perfectly. He flexed his toes for a second breaking them in and grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~````````

Spike flexed the foot of his shoe like he had done so many years ago. They were the same shoes. The same shoes his slayer had given him. The reason he held them so highly was she had given those to him before she had said she loved him, before they had slept together or they had begun their little game of cat and mouse. She had given those to him because he was her friend and that had been their first step to love.

Spike pulled the used cigarette out of his mouth and ground it into the grass with the toe of his boots and looked to where he had taken himself. He was back in front of her grave. It wasn't like he was surprised to be there, this was where he had been heading. After his nasty little run in with the new slayer he hadn't been able to do what he wanted to. It was still four days until the anniversary of her death, but he liked to come see her before the actual day. Other wise it was only him thinking of her death and the thing he loved most about her was the way she had lived her life.

It made sense he was dead, he knew he was dead, and the light she gave off bathed him every time he was near her. Her life, her light made him feel alive. Spike knelt on the ground in front of the tombstone and reached his fingers out and ran them over the engraving of her name. His long pale fingers sank into the impressions as he traced her name. In his head he said the letters as his fingers ran over them. When he was finished he let his palm outstretch and he hung his head.

"Buffy." He whispered and let his fingers run down the granite until it fell back on his knee.

"I thought you'd be here."

Spike didn't even turn around. He knew that voice. After all he'd know him for almost two hundred years. The man was the reason he was a vampire. He had turned his sire. He was the one with the soul, the do gooder, the one who was supposedly better than he was and always would be.

"Angelus." Spike said sighing as he was interrupted again and hopped to his feet. "Paying respects? You're a little early."

Angel shrugged and walked around to stand in front of his childe. "I usually pay my respects on the day, but I'm not here for that."

"Another vision huh? I don't think I've heard of Cordilia there having one of those in a couple of years." Spike said slowly and turned away from the grave. His talk would have to wait, again.

"She hasn't. In fact I was beginning to wonder if The Powers to Be had forgotten about me." Angel replied and put his hand in the pocket of his trench coat.

"Forgotten about their soulful vampire seeking redemption. Not bloody likely mate." Spike said smiling slightly.

Angel shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." He shrugged and looked at the grave briefly something unintelligible leaped across his expression.

Spike creased his brow a small amount of hidden jealously making itself present. He had never had much of a fight with Angel over Buffy, but he still felt the weight of their relationship. He had been Buffy's first love and even it hadn't worked out he was stupid to think she'd never thought of him while she was with him. He stepped in front of the grave blocking his sire's view and pulling him back into their present discussion. "Something to do with the new slayer I presume."

Angel flinched as Spike stepped in front of his gaze and Spike could see the old dominance seeping into his gaze. He didn't like being upstaged by his childe, but he didn't say anything about it. Angel had changed, much like Spike had. "Actually it does. All I know is that in a few days the new slayer and her watcher die."

"What does it matter. They'll call a new slayer. The council is on the ball." Spike said. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Well it seems if this slayer dies whatever it is she was supposed to be fighting here will get loose." Angel said slowly. "It'll destroy Sunnydale before the next slayer is called to fight."

"This isn't my gig." Spike said openly and rolled his eyes. "I'm not the stopper of apocalypses. I'm not Spike the Vampire slayer. That's your job soulful one." With that Spike started to push past his former sire but Angel caught his arm.

"If you don't help a lot of people could die." Angel snarled and squeezed Spike's arm non to gently.

"Did she see me in her little vision. Helping the world. Saving the day?" Spike mocked and pulled out of the older man's grasp. "I stopped that a long time ago."

"Don't lie to yourself Spike. I know that you're not the same you were years ago. You fought with Buffy not only because of her, but because you wanted to." Angel backed away from the bleached man and frowned. "We need your help Spike. If that slayer dies there might not be anything to stop it."

"Keep telling yourself that peaches." Spike mumbled over her shoulder and stalked into the darkness his conversation postponed again.

So what do you guy's think?