As awkward situations go, this one was pretty bad.

I was stretched out on the couch, wishing for Morpheus to grant me blessed sleep; praying that in dreams I might find a flicker of happiness, a reason for going onward. I sought to focus on my higher purpose, my eventual mission.

Damn the mission. I wanted Rupert.

So, here I was. Covered with an afghan that smelled of his cologne, straining to hear his soft breathing, eyes clamped shut, and desperately wanting the last few hours back. How could I ever face him again?

Rupert Giles. In my mind, he would always be Daniel. How desperate his eyes had been. How cruel I must have seemed. Yet I could not give him what we both craved. Hope could not visit a Child of Hunger. Vampires don't get happily-ever-afters.

After a few more minutes of unconvincing play acting, I threw the cover aside. The King of Dreams would not visit me that night. Dawn was still a few hours off, father Night's dusky array of stars were slowly waning. It was the witching hour.

Eighth Rule of Slaying - Always have something on had to relieve the boredom. The big brouhaha rarely happens when you're ready and waiting. I reached down to grab my journal and my hand brushed air.

"Hmm," I said. "Obviously Spike didn't think to go get my journal before he carried my lifeless body here. How insensitive."

I wasn't too upset about the mystery of the missing journal. It would give me an excuse to leave, and a walk through a dark, demon infested hell-mouth was just the thing I needed to give me focus.

"To leave a note, or not to leave a note?" I picked up a pad of paper and a pen, and even started writing a note before I threw the writing instruments across the room with a growl of frustration and stalked out the door.

He wasn't my bloody father.

As I started down the deserted street, I began to whistle.

"Who knows," I said to myself, "maybe I'll run into something big and hairy."

Life was looking up.

---

Ninth Rule of Slaying - Be careful what you wish for. Because someone up there is probably listening.

No sooner had I gotten out of Rupert's quaint subdivision than something big and hairy ran into me. Actually, several somethings. And they obviously hadn't taken a course on personal hygiene.

I grabbed Mr. BigNhairy and introduced it's nose-like-orifice to my hard-like-knee. Mr. BigNhairy did not appreciate this and let out a honk of anger. That's right, a honk. I couldn't help laughing.

"Somehow, I'm not intimidated," I told him.

On to-do-list: learn to speak BigNhairy-ese. Because no sooner than I had quipped my witticism, Mr. BigNhairy's posse decided to forgo the customary 'attack the stranger one at a time' and rush me.

Tenth Rule of Slaying - Don't mock before you kill. Also known as 'Pride cometh before a bruising'. Boy did I wish I listened to myself once in a while.

Whirling around, I delivered a kick to one demon's head while punching another in the gut. Hit, kick, duck, turn, parry, thrust, retreat. Fighting wildly, I was nonetheless being pushed backwards.

I hit one of my attackers with a swift uppercut. My elation was short lived, however, because on my next forced step back I struck a wall.

On to-do-list: Get eyes in the back of my head. That would avoid perilous situations like this. Also, it would be a lot easier to back out of parking spaces.

So, between big hairy demon horde and a brick wall. Not good.

Suddenly, from the other side of my self-built wall o' demons, a disturbance started clearing a path towards me. Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer, was knocking out these demons like it was child's play. I joined in with a vengeance.

Soon my dangerous situation was reduced to the scattered remains of some stinky demons. Buffy was standing on the re-deserted street in a relaxed fighting stance. I approached her cautiously.

"Uh, thanks," I said. Boy, with people skills like that, it's a surprise I'm not more popular.

She turned and looked at me. I hate to admit it, but I cringed a bit inside. The other two times we had run into each other, she had glared at me while fondling a stake. Not a friendly reception for a vampire; and I could hardly expect anything different this time.

"Ok," she said.

"I'm sorry?" Alright, I was confused. Where was the hate? The mistrust? The desire to dust?

Buffy smiled. "I said, ok. You're welcome. No problem."

"Oh. Well, right. Of course." I ventured a smile in return.

Buffy started to walk towards town. I followed alongside her, not out of any masochistic desire for rejection. She was just walking the same direction I needed to go.

"So, how's the slaying thing working for you?" I ventured.

"Well," she looked at me strangely, "generally I just go out and kill things. So, I guess it's a great stress reliever."

"Right,"

"Look, don't think that we're all buddy-buddy now." Buffy said. "Just 'cause I saved your life."

Ok, I could give her that. "I know."

We went forward few moments in silence. I couldn't help but be captivated by the way she walked. I could tell she had seen much - no slayer past her first month hadn't. Yet she seemed strangely innocent, optimistic in spite of all she must have endured. She strode forward lightly, as one who had conquered all she had faced and expected this trend to continue.

I wanted to weep for her. In spite of everything, she still believed that she could live a normal life.

Passing a graveyard, I noticed a sudden flurry of motion behind a crypt. Still in battle mode, I sprinted lightly across the grass and hopped the short fence. A few more long strides brought me to a gruesome scene.

A girl was laying on the ground, her head stretched to one side, her hair cascading around her in dark waves. Her face was strangely peaceful, as if her soul had glimpsed something wonderful through the red haze of her death.

The odor of human blood newly spilled filled the air. Kneeling cautiously, I gently held the girl's hand and felt for a pulse, though I knew that there was no more natural life left in the body. Two perfect circles marred the long neck. The movement I had seen must have been the murderer making good his escape.

Once more I was too late. Once more I had lost focus, and someone had died because of it. This girl - she couldn't be more than fifteen. And I had failed her. To think of the fear she must have felt, the pain. I could still smell the terror, and her attacker's Hunger. This girl represented how many countless others? How many more had I failed?

A monster had done this. A monster like me. This is what I could become in one second of inattention. One mistake.

The center I had been looking for, the purpose I had forgotten became crystal clear in one moment. I knew what I had to do. I had to live the next few days for this girl, and for the other nameless bodies left discarded like so much trash. I had to live for those I had failed: Elizabeth, Jena, Katie, Daniel. I had to live for the man that my Daniel had become.

I was startled back to reality by movement behind me. The girl's hand fell back to the ground.

"Hey, are you ok?" Buffy said. She had found us: the vampire and the body. I half expected a stake in the heart. Dramatic irony almost begged for a melodramatic misunderstanding after my heart wrenching moment of clarity.

"Yeah," I stood quickly, brushing dirt and leaves off my pants. "I stopped to see if I could help her. I couldn't." I gestured vaguely in the direction of a grove of trees. "The vampire got away."

Buffy looked around. "Yeah. There's a million escape routes in this graveyard. It could have gone anywhere."

Suddenly, the last four days came crashing down around my ears. The load of what I was expected to carry became too heavy. Suddenly every emotion I had repressed since my awakening decided to bubble to the surface.

"It's not an it! Sure, it's a monster, but once it was a human, just like you! And something bad happened, like this, and all at once someone who had a family and a past and a future and love and hope is just an IT! Just a monster to be chased down and destroyed. And it's horrible. It's wrong. And there's not a bloody thing I can do!"

And then I began to weep. Buffy just stood, quietly enduring my ranting. I fell to my knees in surrender to an anguish that tore me apart and burned my soul.

"I can't save them! I can't save her. She's going to wake up, you know. She'll wake up to the Hunger, and it'll drive her mad. All that she once was will now be overshadowed by a blood sucking demon. And I failed her. If I had been faster, or stronger, or something, I could have stopped this. I should have saved her."

My sobs were uncontrollable now. But then the most remarkable thing happened. Buffy - the Slayer, Chosen out of a Generation - knelt beside me, a vampire who had a tentative hold on a tattered soul, and wrapped her arms around my neck.

How long we stayed like this, I could not say. I cried for all I had lost and she stroked my hair and murmured comfort in my ear. When I finally pulled away, I felt clean. Finally pure for the first time since my awakening.

"You can't save them all, you know." Buffy said. A sad smile crept along her face. "I know how much it hurts, but it'll kill you if you don't realize that."

"I know. It just...it's who I am. It's what I do...what I did. It still feels like I should."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, "what good is super-Slayer power if you can't save the world?"

I smiled. "We do save the world - just not everybody, all at once."

"Sometimes I think it'd be easier just to make some grand gesture, some flying sacrifice, and end that way." Buffy said. "I can handle my own death."

"It's them. It's their deaths that keep us awake." I said.

"Yeah."

We sat for a moment; and in that moment we understood. We both knew what would be required of us and we embraced the destiny.

A car backfired across the way and the communion was broken.

I could taste the bittersweet scent of Sunrise, could sense the approaching Light.

"I'll take care of the body," Buffy said, "you better get back to the crypt before dawn."

I nodded. Without a backward glance, I walked towards my cage.

How I longed for the Sun.

---

Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. Hail Joss. Tessa belongs to my fat plot bunny, Hubert, who has been plodding along at a dignified pace.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Many, many cookies go to J. for beta reading all this gooshyness. Any mistakes are mine alone. Please review! Hubert likes a review with his afternoon tea.