AN: You know, I said that I would leave this story alone for a while, but I just couldn't keep myself away. Too bad for my homework. If anyone cares, I passed my Anatomy exam.

Bera: Thanks a million for your support and enthusiasm. I am, as always, grateful.

Anyway, my standard disclaimer is that I don't own the Buffy Universe, or any of Joss Whedon's creations.

PS: I couldn't think of a good surname for Erica that didn't sound corny, so I just used the opposite of Buffy's surname. But maybe, if I get a good suggestion, I'll change it later.

Ok, get reading. Luv Hezza.

The blood of the Ancients: Part 2

A day in the life of Erica Winters

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8: What she remembers…

Erica was having a nightmare.

Something had been taken from her, had been added to and twisted into something else. It had hurt, but there were voices, soothing her, promising an end to the pain. Promising something great in her future. A monumental responsibility and a monumental power to go with it. She still didn't like it; she was afraid.

She had been home, at her mother's house, tucked into her bed. It was a time when she believed the only monsters were terrorists and politicians. A time when she was still innocent, and unaware of the supernatural world.

There was a searing pain in her abdomen and chest, and an unpleasant tingling that spread right down to her fingers and toes, but she couldn't move or cry out. The voices had pleaded with her to stay calm, lest she hurt herself in a struggle.

To distract her from the pain and stress they sent her images of other women, whom she'd never met but seemed awfully familiar. Not always in looks, but they felt familiar. She saw warriors. She saw magic, and monsters being defeated. She felt the emotions of the women. Some of them were very kind, while others were fierce. All of them were confident. All of them had a strong determination to protect. All of them were heroes, champions in some way. And in some way she did not understand, they were all connected to her.

Her head swam as she was shown the realm between realms. "One day … yours," the voices said. "Your responsibility. Your domain. Yours to influence … when you are ready." Erica had blacked out, and had awakened in the morning unhurt, and her memory of what she thought to be a dream was blurry. She forgot about it. But she had been chosen. She would not be called upon to remember it for a few years, until her champions had found her.

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Erica woke from the long-forgotten memory. The dream made more sense now. She understood what had happened to her. She still didn't know who the women were, but she knew she would find out. She knew that she was a vessel of power, and that the blood of the ancients had been running through her since that night. And now, because of the memory, she knew that one day she would be custodian of the realm between realms, and the keeper of balance between realities.

Erica sat up in her new bed. It was still dark outside, but stray light from a street lamp that filtered through her blinds showed her the dim room. Her queen-size bed was pushed up into the corner. The wall was to her right and behind her head. To the left of her was her bedside table, the radio clock showing 5:37 in neon red numbers. There were two books next to the clock; the top one was a journal, the one beneath it was a text book: Multimedia studies.

She couldn't make out the covers, but they were dark blue with gold star patterns all over them. Looking to her left, she could see her bedroom door across the room. Next to the door, and against the same wall was her wardrobe, with sliding mirror doors and what she considered space for three people's clothes. The wardrobe stretched from ceiling to floor, and went across to the other wall. She had all of her clothes hung up on the bar, and hair and makeup accessories scattered in the drawers. Her purse was on the floor of the wardrobe.

There was a high shelf in the wardrobe too, where Erica planned to start putting weapons once Angel loosened up and let her have some. At that point she had already known that she was destined for a life that was heavily affected by the supernatural world. She knew she'd be learning to defend herself against it, but Angel was reluctant to teach her. His plan was to just keep her out of harms' way and out of trouble, and that was that. He hoped she'd never need to fight her way out of a tight spot as long as he and the others were around to protect her. He was of the opinion that she'd start looking for trouble if she felt overconfident and capable of handling it.

Sitting up and looking forward, Erica could see the wall with the covered window in it. To the right of the window, in the corner, was an old-fashioned oak desk with a set of drawers in it and an armless computer chair next to it. On top of the desk there were some scattered pages, pens, an exercise book for multimedia and her laptop, which was currently shut.

The laptop, the journal, everything in the wardrobe and her bedcovers were the only things she had brought with her to America. She'd bought the bed, bedside table and desk new, with some money her mother had given her as this year's Christmas and birthday presents, and she'd trusted her mother to sell off everything she owned at her flat, including her car. Erica had already been living out of the house with a roommate at the time, but she was still on good terms with her mother. She told her that she'd gotten a job opportunity over in America via her magazine story editor, but she'd had to move fast or the position would be filled. The roommate really didn't care that she was going, as long as rent was paid up for the month.

It had been a week since her arrival in Los Angeles. Apart from the bedrooms, the flat where Cordelia, Lawson and Erica were staying was already furnished. They were on the eighth floor, and next door was a conveniently located gym. Erica was used to training weekly with her mother, who was an instructor, so she signed up for a membership the day after she arrived so she'd stay in shape. She had also trained in Tae-kwon Do while growing up, but she hadn't told the guys that yet, and in any case it had been a few years so she was rusty.

The stories that Erica wrote for the magazines were her part-time job (and she could still send them off from LA). She was still organising a day job, having sent resumes to a few nearby diners and small restaurants. She had already arranged for evening classes in multimedia studies, so that once she finished she could find a more permanent and better paid job.

Cordelia had assured her that, for a long while at least, if she chose to she could have a halfway normal life. Even with her dream now, Erica knew that she was still years away from being ready to take control of the mid-realm. For now, she could work, she could have friends, but she just couldn't tell people what she and her roommates really were. She still had no idea that it was her future self who had given the mission of protecting her to the three vampires; she had assumed that the Powers that Be had sent them to her, which was partly right.

AN: Cordy/Lawson bit coming soon (At least it will start)