3.

His Slayer

The start of a new school day pronounced itself just as loudly and crudely as every other day did, with the shrill ring of the alarm clock.

Jackie threw her hand at it, the easiest and least energy consuming way to turn off the alarm but was met with a crash.

The shattering sound cut through the dead of the morning more than that of the alarm ring had.

Not only had she turned off the alarm, but she'd smashed it to bits by accident.

She was wide awake now.

She cursed quietly to herself and got out of bed, hiding away the remains of the clock before her mother could see them as she would evidently come to the room to see what the noise had been about.

Another coincidence of her strength? Possibly.

Jackie threw the thought aside; she wasn't thinking about it today, it'd been way too weird the other night, besides, she might just simply be getting stronger! Puberty or something along those lines. Yet a year level full of sixteen year-olds her age hadn't been changing the way she had.

Jackie hastily brushed her long brown hair away from her face. She was different, but wasn't everybody? Possibly not as she was. She sighed; fitting in probably wasn't her greatest ability.

She prepared herself for what she hoped would be an uneventful day of high school.

Spike felt his eye lids pull over his eyes. He shook his head to pull himself out of the awaiting sleep as best as he could.

All this travelling made him tired and sore and even though he was out of the desert now, it was still warm in the suburbs. It just had to be stinking hot when he travelled to Australia, the sun beating down on him, beckoning his very demise, taunting him with an almost cruel and scornful fate.

He pulled his long leather coat closer around him, sheltering any part of his skin that could be exposed to the sunlight. Bursting into flames wasn't the ideal situation he wanted to be in right now. But the leather made him sweat worse than ever, especially sitting in a stolen jet black car with blacked out windows.

He cursed loudly to himself and looked about his surroundings.

He was parked at the local high school. He had an address of a school that she attended and that was it. It was completely useless as his search still included about five hundred girls.

It was just at the beginning of the school day and already several students were pouring into the grounds all either excited to be starting the day or glumly dragging their still half asleep bodies to their first class.

From Spike's position in the car park, just under the shade of a gum tree outside the grounds, he was able to see a lot of what was going on.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he saw a pack of girls squeal for some unknown reason.

He was convinced that all teenage girls were giggling and hysterics wrapped in skin tight clothing, not that he really minded the last bit.

Although, retracting his last statement, he had known many younger girls who were not what they seemed on the outside.

He blinked several times, determined to keep himself from falling asleep as it threatened to take over his sate of consciousness.

Surely just resting his eyes for moment wouldn't hurt? He wouldn't go to sleep but just close them to relax a bit; he'd need all his energy if he was to face this Slayer.

It was the sound the whistle that woke Spike up. He looked around suddenly, realising that he'd been asleep for a good part of the day.

"Bullocks," he cursed quietly to himself and looking out of the window where a girl's football match was going on, or soccer, what they called it in Australia. It was where the whistle that woke him up had come from.

His car was parked at the top of the hill and the game was at the bottom, where he could see them but they couldn't see him. Luckily his windows were also blacked out; no one would be able to see him unless they pressed their faces against the windscreen.

The girls on this oval were probably some of the older girls from the high school, was Spike's conclusion due to the fact that they simply looked older than some of the others he'd seen this morning.

They were running about and shouting encouragement at each other in an annoying teenage girl fashion.

Spike frowned in irritation, willing the sun to set so he conduct a better search. With nothing better to do, he followed the game as it continued, watching the desperate efforts as these girls screamed and kicked the ball to one another.

"Where are you, my Slayer?" Spike whispered to himself and nearly slapped himself.

It's slipped out, he'd called this girl 'my Slayer' as if to say that this mission was his own, his eventual accomplishment so he could take her back to America and train her up.

It's not like that at all, Spike thought to himself. I just want to find this twerp, bring her to the bloody awaiting war and get it over and done with. I don't want nothin' to do with this Slayer at all; the Scooby's can sort her out when she gets there.

The coach on the sideline of the field called for a substitution as a girl ran from the field.

Spike settled back, but still annoyed, he'd fallen asleep on the job and his long leather jacket was now sticking to his arms, plus he hadn't found his Slayer.

This Slayer, he corrected himself.

He watched as this new player ran onto the field and joined in on the game, occasionally shouting for the ball or running after it.

Finally she managed to have her turn at kicking the ball; she took aim and booted it.

Spike watched in amazement as the ball soared high in the air and up to the car park where he was situated. The ball shot past with lightning speed and power and damn near caved in the front of the car next to him.

The ball sat quite innocently in the bent bonnet of the car as the girl ran up the hill to retrieve it.

She came to the car and looked around, trying to see if anyone had noticed that her ball had crumpled the bonnet.

She didn't see Spike gaping at her. Nervously she pulled out her ball and turned and ran, taking no responsibility for what she'd done and ran back down the hill to join back in with the game where no one had seen her escapade expect Spike.

No normal teenage girl could kick a ball with as much force to near destroy a car!

Spike had found his Slayer.