The story of how a Slayer-killing vampire comes to meet a Slayer, fall in love with her, save her life, and try in vain to win her trust. All in the span of a few whirlwind minutes.

Debbie and Angel and strolling down San Clemente State Beach. "Been here before?," Angel asks, trying to make conversation.

"Not after dark, when it's closed and fenced off. But I guess folks like you and me don't have to worry about those sortsa things."

"We have bigger worries. Speaking of which - "

"I'm getting to how the vampires found me out. Sort of a fluke. Or maybe what I had coming to me. No, I didn't do anything bad enough to deserve to die."

"After a month in Rome, I decided to go back to my old hunting ground in the Pacific Northwest. See some friends, enjoy the overcast weather. On a trip down to San Fran, I ran into some refugees. They said life wasn't quite so fun in LA anymore. Friends had turned into enemies. New, unnatural alliances were getting formed. Blah, blah, blah. I couldn't care less about their problems. Until one of them mentioned a rumor that Angel and Spike had been seen together in a cemetery. Now that I cared about. Spike working for Buffy I understood. He wanted to sleep with her. But that couldn't be the case in this instance. So I went to see what the dirty old sod was up to. I ended up at some low-end vampire hang-out east of Anaheim. That's where I met Tiffany. Young, blonde, vacuous. The sort of girl I'd kill but never waste my time siring. Apparently Lonnie had lower standards. He was with his friend Howie. Tiff told them about this really annoying girl at her school with super strength. Lon and How knew right away what this girl was. So did I. Couldn't help but offer my assistance."

Devlin walks over to their table with a beer in his left hand and a cigarette in his right. Lonnie and Howie both appear to be in their early twenties. Lon is attractive in an unkempt greaser sort of way. Howie is equally unkempt, but plainer. The three of them treat the new arrival suspiciously. "Looks like we got ourselves a carpetbagger," Lon says to Devlin. Tiffany appears confused by the term. The guy doesn't even have a handbag.

"Sounds like you got yourselves a Slayer. Ever killed one?"

"Have you?"

"Less than two months ago."

"Bull," Howard declares.

"It's such a hassle when my reputation doesn't precede me. Someone always ends up bloody and unconscious."

"You think you could take me?"

"No. I think I could take all three of you. But what would that prove? Pick anyone in this dive. I'll have them incapacitated before you can finish your drink." Lonnie and Howard stare at the not-terribly-tough-looking vampire. "What's the matter? Too many syllables? It means I'll beat them up."

"You're serious?," Lonnie asks. Devlin puts out his cigarette in his left palm. "Hey Cyrus!," Lon calls out. A bulky guy well over six feet tall turns around. "This little punk says he can kick you ass."

"He's lying," Dev tells Cyrus as he stands up. "I only said I could knock you unconscious." He gives the larger vamp a cocky smile. Cyrus sticks his left index finger in a shot of whisky. His girlfriend lights the finger, and Cyrus goes to light her cigarette. Devlin, never one to miss a chance to be impudent, rushes over, a fresh cigarette between his lips. "Do you mind?" Cyrus decks him with a right hook and lights his girl's smoke. She blows his burning finger out as Dev stands up. "Cute parlor trick. Used to do it in science class with a little rubbing alcohol and a bunsen burner." Cyrus winds up for another right hook. Before he can land the punch, Devlin connects with two right jabs to the chest and a left uppercut to the chin. Cyrus steps back, slightly stunned. Devlin nails his face with a right roundhouse kick, then ducks under a left hook before popping Cyrus in the jaw with one of his own. Devlin walks away, takes out his lighter and lights up his smoke. Cyrus charges, and without turning round Dev puts him on his back with a left reverse kick. The crowd gasps. Devlin exhales through his nose and turns around, the lit cigarette between his lips. "Something I learned a long time ago," he says before dodging a right cross and connecting with two left jabs. "Vampires who name themselves after Cyrus, or Darius, or any other Persian King for that matter, do it to sound tough, because they're not tough." Cyrus charges. Devlin flips him over his shoulder so that his opponent's back slams down onto a pool table. Dev takes two balls out of the pockets and boxes Cyrus's ears, which start bleeding. While Cyrus is too woozy to stand up, Dev grabs a cue stick. Everyone expects him to stake Cyrus. Instead, he hurls the stick through his girlfriend's heart. "Anyone else want to see who has the biggest wrinklies, step on up," Devlin says as he walks back to his table. It went exactly like he used to watch Spike do it. Except for the billiard balls. That was Dev's little innovation. Spike preferred to dust the opponent. Devlin sits down and finishes his beer. "We were talking about a Slayer?"

Lonnie takes a few seconds to recover from the shock of Devlin's impressive exhibition. But he's determined not to cede leadership to this usurper. "You trying to Bogart my kill?"

"I've already killed one. Now I'd like to see how someone else does it."

"Hey finders keeper, man," Howard tells him. Devlin rolls his eyes. Definite lackey.

"Does this Slayer have anyone helping her out?"

"She's got friends," Tiffany responds. "But they won't be much help. They were nothing before she became little miss supergirl."

"Do you know what the most common way of dying in a fight is? While you're killing one person, someone else stakes you in the back. They don't need special powers to do that. I have no doubt that the three of you, working together, can make quick work of a single Slayer. Provided she's alone. If she isn't, then you need someone to watch your back."

"And what's in it for you?," a suspicious Lonnie wants to know.

"All the tasty non-Slayer kiddies I can eat. In case you haven't noticed, Slayers are proliferating like kudzu. They work together. We'll have to do the same if we want to survive."

"So at this point, it was your intention to kill Debbie," Fred assumes.

"Of course. I thought she was working for Buffy."

"That makes a difference?"

"It makes all the difference. Five hundred Slayers working independently doesn't keep me up during the day. Fifty Slayers working together, now that's positively terrifying. Power can't be harnessed without organization. Just ask your employer."

Meanwhile, Debbie relays her side of the story to Angel. "Tiffany was a cheerleader who went to a party in Mission Viejo and never came back. Actually, she came back a few nights later. But, well, it wasn't exactly her." Angel chuckles, offending Debbie. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Only that, it sounds to me as if she figured out what you were before you did."

"Okay. I suppose it's ironic if you're not the one who nearly got killed."

"Tiff led us to Debbie's house," Devlin tells Fred. "The lights were off. It was a little after nine. Too early for her to be asleep. So we camped out until she returned."

"I don't have a car. But Cynthia's house is like a five minute walk from mine. So I walked home. That's I saw Tiffany standing in the middle of the street right outside my driveway."

"Hello Debbie."

"Where ya been, Tiff?"

"Met a guy. He put things in a whole new perspective for me."

"Knocked you up. Good luck with that." Debbie turns to her left and walks up her driveway. Tiffany grabs her and hurls Debbie to the ground. "What the hell?"

"Not so much fun when the shoe's on the other foot." Deb stands up and winces. Her elbows are skinned. She tosses her book bag on the lawn.

"You and me?," Debbie asks with a cocky grin as she limbers up. "This should be fun. Heck, I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Tiffany goes bumpy. "Me too." Debbie gasps. Tiffany grabs her and pushes Debbie to the ground, holding her down and trying to bite her. Debbie struggles to push Tiffany away. She's panicking. Tiffany's transformation was most unexpected, not to mention inconceivable. After a few seconds, she puts her right hand around Tiffany's throat and lands a left hook to her face before throwing her to the right. She stands up and notices Lonnie and Howard, also with the yellows eyes and big teeth and funny foreheads. She's shocked speechless. Tiffany also gets up. "You didn't think you were the only who could throw down, did you?" The three of them charge Debbie. She turns and runs, getting about sixty feet before Lonnie pulls her down. She puts her feet on his chest and pushes him away. When she stands up, Howie leaps at her. She grabs him and throws the vampire to her left. He lands on a neighbor's lawn. Debbie runs back towards her own house. Tiffany trips her up. She backs away as the three vampires slowly approach. They can smell her fear.

"They were cheating," Dev tells Fred. "Debbie had never seen a vampire before. She was obviously unarmed. It was wrong."

"Killing can be wrong? I didn't know that it could, from your point of view."

"There are protocols when it comes to fighting Slayers. No gunning them down. No spears tossed or arrows fired from behind a bush. It has to be hand-to-hand. And they have to know what you are, since you know what they are. Otherwise there's no prestige in the kill."

"You didn't like her yet?," Fred asks. "It was just principle?," she adds doubtfully.

"I fell for Debbie the moment I saw her," Dev replies, confirming Fred's assumption. "She was beautiful. Powerful yet vulnerable. Arrogant yet frightened. The other Slayers I've encountered weren't capable of that natural, human range of emotions. I suppose you can't truly love someone until you've seen them weakened, broken down, desperate. That's when you have a chance to glimpse inside their soul."

"So how can she love you?"

"I may lack a conscience. But I do have a soul."

"Sounds like semantics to me."

"It's about what defines you: the human or the demon. I'll explain later."

"I'm being attacked by these monsters. I've never felt so afraid. It's like I'd entered another world when I realized I had these powers, and this was the end of the line. The absurd conclusion to an absurd little odyssey."

Debbie knows they can chase her down. And she assumes that if she gets inside her house, they can follow her in. Can't run. Can't hide. Boy, did she ever wish she had a car. In theory, that seemed like the only possible way out. Tiffany leaps at her. Debbie kicks her away with her right foot. The men are more experienced, and understand what needs to be done. As Lonnie slowly closes with Debbie, Howard dashes round behind her. Lonnie shifts to Debbie's right as Tiffany moves in on her left, completing the encirclement. Debbie realizes she's in deep trouble. She decides to go for Tiffany, who seems to be the weakest. Meanwhile, Devlin's run across the street and broken off a wooden plank from the railing a neighbor's backyard pool deck. When Debbie moves towards Tiffany, she steps back, and Lonnie grabs her right arm while Howie grabs her left. Tiffany now steps forward for the kill, biting the left side of Debbie's neck. She screams out in pain and bewilderment. Just then, Devlin's racing back across the street. Without breaking stride, he hurls his improvised three foot-long stake at Tiffany's back from thirty feet away. "Hey. That hurts!," she whines just before turning to dust. Devlin runs up and grabs the stake before it falls to the ground.

Debbie moans with pain and exhaustion as she gets a look at Devlin. Slicked-back black hair. Black trench coat. This doesn't look promising. "Change of plans, boys," Dev says before downing Howie with a left hook. Lonnie tosses Debbie to the grass and attacks Devlin, who floors him with a leaping right roundhouse kick. Howard makes a run for it. Devlin leaps twenty five feet through the air, tackles him, gets Howie on his back and stakes him. Lonnie rushes up and kicks Devlin in the back of the head with his left foot.

"I don't know why I ever trusted you," Lon declares as Dev rolls onto his back and looks up at his adversary.

"Because you had no choice," Devlin replies before sweeping Lonnie's legs with a right hook kick. They both rise to their feet. "I would have just followed you here, anyway. Best show in town." Dev blocks a right hook kick and a left roundhouse kick before hitting Lonnie in the nose with a swing of his 2x4. "Make that best show in the whole county." Devlin kicks him in the stomach with his right foot then pops him in the face with a left hook. "Of course, that's not saying much." He lands a right jab and right hook before dusting Lonnie. Dev turns to look at Debbie, who's just stood up. He smiles, confident that she'll welcome her hero with open arms.

"Aaaiiiiggggghhhhhh!!!!," Deb shrieks before running away at top speed.

"That's the thanks I get for saving your life!?," Devlin complains. Then he feels his forehead. "Bugger," he sighs before going back to his human face and giving chase. Four blocks and a quarter of a mile later, he catches up and grabs her left arm, spinning Deb around. She lands a right hook to his face. "Talk about ingratitude. You'd be dinner for three if it wasn't for me." She lands another right hook. "Ow!! What did I ever do to you? Oh, that's right. I rescued you from certain death." She hits him in the gut with a left uppercut.

"I think your instincts were absolutely correct," Angel tells Debbie, inviting a scowl. "You had every right to be suspicious." And you still do, he would have added if Angel didn't believe that would cause her to attack him. He knew better than to provoke a Slayer.

"They disappeared. How did they do that?," she asks Devlin as she tries to catch her breath. "Come to think of it, how did they bite me!"

"They're vampires," he deadpans.

"What!??"

"I'm sure you've heard of the concept. Guess what? They're real."

"They're vampires."

"They WERE vampires. Now they're dust on your front lawn."

"So, by your insane crazy, acid-trip logic, you're also a vampire!"

"Guilty as charged." She connects with a right jab to his nose. "Not bad. But you need to learn to mix it up a little more. Fight with both hands. And don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The I belong in a mental hospital' look."

"No. This is the I want you to get the Hell away from me before I kill you' look."

"Like to see you try." Deb attacks. Dev backs up and puts his hands out. "Hey. Settle down. It was a joke! I want to help you."

Debbie laughs. "Now that's a joke."

"I'm serious."

"Why should I trust you?" Dev drops the wood, spins Deb around so he's behind her, goes bumpy and puts his fangs to her jugular. She tries to break free, but he's too strong.

"Because if I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. Most vampires bite lower down, near the collarbone. That gives you plenty of time. But I bite you hear, I rip open your artery in split-second, and I can just walk away and leave you for dead. No hope of rescue. No chance of survival. Oh, and if you try to fight back, you're bleeding out before you can even lay a hand me. Devlin pushes her to the ground and she rolls along the pavement. He returns to his human face. Given her bloody elbows, bloody knees, bloody neck and pounding heart that he could feel when he held her close, it took quite a bit of will power to resist the temptation to finish her off right then and there.

"Real smooth. Convince me you're a psycho. Now I totally trust you. And the whole Christian Slater in Heathers' getup really doesn't help you in the credibility department."

Devlin is insulted. "Oh. Oh! Now that's uncalled for. I had this look first. Anyway, it's not even my look. Not all of it, anyway. The coat . . . I don't usually . . . I don't know what I was thinking."

"I do. Before you kill me, you want me to make me trust you. You probably get off on that. Like a lot of serial killers."

"Oh please! Give me some credit. That's the last thing I'm into. I don't like to dawdle any more than necessary. And in case you haven't noticed, when it comes to me killing you, no dawdling necessary."

"Are you always this freakishly charmless?"

"Only when I'm trying to do someone a favor."

"A favor? You set me up!"

"You don't know what you are. Would you like to know?"

"I'd rather know what you are."

"You're a Slayer."

"Excuse me?"

"A Vampire Slayer. That's why you're so strong. You didn't think you were given those powers just to lord it over your classmates?"

"What do you mean given?"

"They haven't gotten to you yet."

"Who? Can the pronouns, Lestat."

"Hey! Enough with the insulting comparisons. I'll just let that one slide, on account of your ignorance. Used to be there was one girl in the world who had what you had. She'd fight the demons until they killed her, then someone else would take over. At any one time, there'd be hundreds of girls who could get the nod. Only a handful were unfortunate enough to be chosen before they got to old. Slayers are like gymnasts – if Bela Karolyi doesn't come to see you by the time you're eighteen, he's never coming. But then, sometime last summer, the rules changed. All the girls were given the power. There are hundreds like you, all over the world."

"Good. Now why don't you go bother one of them?"

"Because, if I had, you would be dead. I didn't do this to you. I didn't make you a target."

"Then who did?"

"A bunch of do-gooders. They go around finding the girls they've changed, and train them to fight vampires, protect the innocent, make the world a better place."

"They find them, and then they train them." Debbie laughs. "In a school?" Like the one the X-Men go to?"

"Well, no. They're in Rome, not Westchester. Everyone has the exact same power. And they did this to you. Far as I know, the Professor doesn't make the mutations. That would have been, well, cruel and self-indulgent of him. Here's what I know, which isn't a lot: last year, a bunch of demons went after these girls and tried to kill them all."

"Demons. Like you?"

"Worse. Meaner. A lot uglier."

"Don't flatter yourself."

Devlin laughs this off. "The active Slayer tried to defend these girls. Eventually, the well-meaning do-gooders came to the conclusion that the only way to protect the girls was to make them all Slayers. That way, they could protect themselves. The side effect was that all future nominees would have the same thing happen to them."

"Meaning me."

"They've been going around the world rounding up girls like you, taking them away and training them."

"And what if they say no?"

"I'm guessing most don't. Being around all the others makes them feel safe. Plus, I'm sure there's a certain esprit de corps aspect to the whole thing. I don't know what they do to those who turn down the offer. It's not as if they can kidnap someone without their family putting up a fuss." This gives Debbie pause, though she's still far more suspicious of Devlin than of these unseen do-gooders he describes. "I'd imagine that in poorer countries the parents might welcome the chance to have one less mouth to feed, one less dowry to pay. Not to mention the large, unenlightened swaths of the world where women are supposed to be obedient and subservient. A willful, super-powered young woman would hardly make a good wife to a husband who expects to dominate and control her."

"You're a vampire."

"That's already been established."

"These Slayers, this Queen Slayer who rounds them all up, she does it to kill vampires."

"For Rome's sake, I hope so. Imagine the damage she could do with an army like that."

"This is bad for you."

"Not necessarily. I love a good fight. And their blood tastes really good. The more the better, from my point of view. It's the dumber, weaker vampires who are shaking in their boots. Like the ones I just killed."

"Are you coming on to me?"

Devlin scoffs at the notion. "I've threatened your life. I've bragged about killing your kind. In what sick, perverted world does that count as a come-on?" He wants to sound serious, but given all he knows, Dev's being more-than-a-little tongue-in-cheek.

"Why else wouldn't you kill me?," Debbie demands to know, walking towards Devlin and, for the first time in their confrontation, gaining confidence.

"Because I want to help you."

"Oh puh-leaze! How stupid do you think I am?"

"Actually, I think you're rather smart. TIff told me what you've been up to. Forming your little gang. Exploiting your powers to turn the social tables. I'm impressed."

"Now with the flattery. What's next: tell me how pretty I look?"

"Sounds to me as if you're already well aware of that fact. So what if we're in agreement on that particular topic? Now isn't the time to question my motives." He tosses his wooden weapon over to her. "I think you saw how it's done. If you don't trust me, go right ahead." She pauses for a few seconds then thrusts for his heart. He grabs it with both hands when the point is almost against his skin and pushes her down to the ground. "Okay! We'll have to work on trust. Right now, I'll be happy to fall back on need." Debbie stands up and stays ten feet away from Dev. When he steps towards her, she steps back and holds the stake out for protection.

"Close enough, freak. Yep, this is just what I need. A psycho killer who vants to drink my bluud' to watch over me."

"You think I'm the only one who knows? Tiffany told dozens of others. And they'll be after you soon enough. You want to take them all on by yourself, go right ahead."

"You suck as a con man."

"You would be discovering if there's an afterlife if it wasn't for me."

"The perfect setup. Try to make me grateful. And these others you mentioned. The perfect follow-up. Create a job for you to fill. All designed to bring us closer. Honestly, it's a lot of effort on your part. You must really not get any."

"Okay Debbie," Devlin says as he slowly backs away. "I'm sure your friends and family will be eager to help protect you. Provided they buy your story about vampires and the like. Or maybe it's best if they don't. You know how strong Tiff and her boys were. Bringing your friends into this will just get them killed. Best if you use someone expendable. Say, a guy you could care less about. Boy likes a girl, he'll do anything to impress her. Who better to exploit? Chances are, they'll kill me before I get the chance to kill enough of them to win you over. By the way, I'd get home now if I were you. No telling who's hiding out between here and your front door." Devlin vanishes.

"Promising beginning," Angel observes. "So what went wrong?," he asks with a smirk. Deb looks like she's ready to sock him.

"He didn't continue hiding in the shadows, waiting until I was in danger, and then leaping out of nowhere to save me. If that was the case, I would have been sure he was only trying to get in my pants. Dev did the opposite. He went after them. Attacked their nests. Dusted them before they could even come here to hurt me."

"And that made you believe he was serious about his stated intentions?"

"That and the fact that Dev treats me better than any guy ever has."

"Sounds like you've had bad luck in that department."

"Sounds like you haven't been a teenager for a long, long time. He's sweet. He's sensitive. He risked his life to help me even when I showed no interest in him. At times, against way greater odds than I just described."

"I think I know where he gets that from," Angel remarks in an obvious reference to Spike.

"There are lotsa evil, horrible people with souls. Why can't there be one person without a soul who can be good to one other person?"

"Because that's impossible."

"For you."

"For everyone."

"How do you know? Maybe Dev's special. Maybe you were just . . . ordinary."

"I was never ordinary," a wounded Angel snaps.

"Okay. Worse than most. Maybe the worst. What if Dev's better than most? The best, even? There's gotta be a gradient, right?"

Now Angel fears for her. "You don't get it. Debbie, you're messing with forces - "

"I don't understand. That's why I'm still alive."

"And it's why you won't be much longer if you keep at it."

"Why should I trust you? The last Slayer who trusted you got shipped off to Europe."

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Really? I heard you nabbed her yourself."

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Aren't you supposed to be overcoming MY suspicions? Best way to start is to tell the truth." She's clever. Angel thinks this over. He tells her the whole truth, then Debbie knows he wanted Dana to stay in Los Angeles. But she also knows that Buffy didn't trust him. And if Buffy didn't trust him, why should Debbie? Angel decides that it's best to lie about the details in order to impart a greater truth.

"Dana was untrained. She didn't understand her powers. What's more, she had been attacked by some men, some human men, and she fought back. And she killed them, accidentally. But the authorities were after her just the same. It was best to get her someplace safe, out of the country, around people who could understand and help her. You're already trained. You're slaying vampires. You're making the world a safer place."

"Thanks to Devlin," she reminds Angel, knowing this will annoy him.

"My point is, there's no reason for you to leave here. Buffy will recognize that."

"And what if she doesn't? I'm working with vampires. That's the sort of thing that would make other Vampire Slayers suspicious. Except for her, of course," Debbie adds with a smile. "Then again, from what Dev tells me, her situations were a little different than mine." Angel winces at the word "situations," reminding him as it does of Buffy's relationship with Spike. What's worse, it seems to place that "relationship" on the same plane with the one he had with Buffy.

"I don't see how she could know about Devlin and his friends from all the way over in Italy. All she'll know is there's a Slayer somewhere in southern Orange County."

"Unless you tell her the details. Talk about an opportunity for blackmail." Angel's original intention was to give the impression that Buffy and him were at odds in order to gain Debbie's trust, since she obviously had no trust for Buffy because Devlin had filled her mind with lies. Now he decides to take the opposite approach. Perhaps he can benefit from Debbie's assumption that he and Buffy are in cahoots.

"I'll tell her you're fighting the good fight. I'll tell her you can best help the cause remaining right where you are. And if she disagrees, I'll do everything in my power to keep her away from you. This is my town."

"Shouldn't your town be Los Angeles?" He sighs with frustration at her smartass comeback.

"When I say town,' I mean the whole metropolitan area. This is my turf. Buffy knows that. She has the rest of the world to worry about. When it comes to this corner of the globe, she's more than happy to defer to my judgement."

"So Angel. You wanna be the vampire who's got my back? Get in line."

NEXT: Oz pays Angel a visit, and meets fellow werewolf Nina.. Anne has a very frightening encounter with Spike, the vampire who scared her straight by nearly killing her more than six years ago. And Devlin starts messing with the firm's computers, to hilarious effect. Unless your name is Angel. Then Devlin's antics are anything but humorous.