There was someone behind her. Isabel could feel it somehow before she even heard the footsteps as they approached. Something within her warned her that it was a dangerous presence…malevolent…predatory. She wasn't sure how, or why, but she knew that whoever it was, was strong. Possibly as strong as her. Her pulse raced with anticipation as the footfalls got progressively louder.

She wondered if it could possibly be Methos behind her. Could he have found her, before she found him? But no, she dismissed that notion almost immediately. She didn't know how, but she had the feeling that whatever it was behind her was not immortal-was something far different and far more deadly. Whatever was behind her did not kill for sport, or for the prize. It killed for pleasure, for sustenance, for fun. And it was following her to do just that.

She should have been frightened. Even with her new powers and her new strength this presence was entirely new. Her parents hadn't warned her. She should not feel so confident, and yet somehow she knew she could fight it. She knew she had to, felt like she was born to.

In her blood.

The creature was almost behind her. It was almost time for her to turn on it and strike, to show it that she would not be easy prey.

Before she could however another shadow came out of the night and slammed straight into the figure behind her, shoving it to the ground.

Isabel leapt back, startled and turned to see the two figures rolling around on the pavement fighting one another viciously. She moved closer to try to see the attacker's face, but the form that had interceded on her behalf reached out with the only arm he could spare and motioned for her to stay clear.

"Get back, I'll handle this!" He growled in between punches that were being traded. He spoke English with no trace of an Italian accent anywhere. American, Isabel thought. What the hell is he doing here? It was then that Isabel got a clear look at her would-be attacker as the other man fought it. It looked human at first glance, but that was obviously not the case. His face was contorted into an ugly visage of bumps, ridges and fangs. She should have been horrified at the sight, but something inside her told her it was natural. That she should be the one to see this; should be the one to fight it.

That's when she got a better look at the young man who was currently doing so. He wasn't as strong as the creature. The blows he was receiving were doing more damage to him than they would have to her, and yet he fought with a ferocity that startled even her. She couldn't see his face, but somehow she knew that he would not let up until he had defeated this thing-whatever it was.

But it might kill him in the process. Isabel couldn't let that happen. It had been following her. She moved in to try and get the guy off of the creature, but before she could do anything she watched in fascination as he ripped a long sharp piece of wood out of his coat, and plunged it through the creature's heart.

It turned into dust, right before her eyes and the young man sat up, and brushed himself off as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"What…" she paused, trying to process everything she had just seen and wondering briefly why she wasn't screaming in terror. "What was that?"

The young man looked up at her and she did a double take. He was a few years older than her, but not by much. His left eye was covered with a pirate's eye patch that Isabel suspected was not a fashion statement and the look in his right eye told her it was not a good idea to ask. He wasn't as strong as she was, and yet she felt nervous in his presence…unsure. He was unpredictable. Her gut told her that right off the bat.

"Don't worry about it." He told her gruffly. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She blushed, realizing too late that she had been staring at his eye patch while the thoughts raced through her mind. "Just go home. You're safe."

"Me?" She couldn't help but exclaim. "I'm safe? What about you? That thing could have killed you! What the hell was that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He stood up, and picked up the long wooden shard, putting it back in his coat. He still refused to look at her. He turned to leave, and she grabbed his hand to stop him. She was not going to let this guy just disappear. Not without some answers.

"You'd be surprised at what I'd believe." She replied firmly. He finally looked at her and she was surprised to see a sadness within that one eye that made her want to comfort him, rather than question him. She softened her tone a bit, hoping it might make him more willing to confide in her. "Please, what was that?"

"A vampire." The young man said with a reluctant sigh. He gave her a look that told her that he expected her to deny it, to discount what he said right off the bat. But she couldn't. Vampires weren't supposed to exist, and yet she believed. Her parents had been immortal. Immortality wasn't supposed to be real and yet she had seen it first hand. They had never mentioned vampires to her, but that didn't mean they couldn't exist. The fangs, the facial contortions, the strength…it all made perfect sense. So why could she feel them coming? And why did this feel almost like a second nature to her? To sense them, to want to fight them. A part of her felt almost cheated that the man in front of her had taken that opportunity away.

"OK, fine a vampire." She repeated. "Why were you here?"

"Look, you don't have to thank me," he almost mumbled. He was clearly very uncomfortable now and more than slightly puzzled as to why she believed him with such readiness. "Let's just call it even and go our separate ways."

"Call it even?" She echoed in disbelief. "Thank you! You could have been killed! Why would you take on a vampire? Are you crazy?"

"What about you?" He shot back. "You don't seem too surprised that they exist! Why the hell would anybody walk through a darkened street all alone at night in a city that has a…" he trailed off, clearly intending to say something, then deciding against it. "I knew what it was and how to fight it. You would have been the one to get killed."

"I knew it was behind me." She admitted to him. "I was ready to fight him. You on other hand probably don't even have any depth perception. People in glass houses shouldn't call others reckless."

"Well this is the most fun I've ever had saving somebody's life." He muttered. "I'm not sure which is worse, the ones who blubber their thank you's in Italian till I want to scream or you-a girl who doesn't even realize how close she came to dying chastising ME for being too reckless."

"I could have handled him." She said, chin up, almost certain that what she was saying was the truth. The guy in front of her raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You the one we're looking for then? A chosen one?"

She found it odd that he would word something like that in such a way. She didn't know what he was talking about, but 'chosen one' didn't strike her as a phrase that should be used in the plural. In either case, she was not about to tell him of her freakish strength or its source. He might believe in vampires, but that didn't mean he would necessarily buy the concept of immortality and she certainly didn't need this guy thinking she was some kind of monster herself.

Slowly, she shook her head.

"I'm not a freak or anything. I'm normal."

"Then you couldn't have taken him. Trust me." He turned to leave, obviously feeling the conversation was done with, but she wasn't through just yet.

"Why could you?" She asked before he could go. "I mean, you don't look like you're anything other than human. You're obviously not a vampire…he was stronger than you. I could tell. Why fight him? That seems pretty suicidal to me."

"I know about them. I know how to kill them." He shrugged, clearly at a loss to explain himself. "Somebody has to."

"And that somebody is you?" She was intrigued now and no longer annoyed. This guy appeared to be something straight out of an American action movie. The eye patch, the surly demeanor, the stake… It all made her wonder who he was and what his story could possibly be. What on earth could he have lost to make him risk his life like that?

"Yea, well why not?" He looked away, his shoulders dropping in defeat. "Beats the hell out of watching reality TV in Italian. Hey…why is it you speak English anyway?"

"Expensive private school." She replied stiffly, not wanting to be reminded of her parents right now. "And I'm not the one out of place here. You're American right?"

"How'd you know?" He asked.

"Well the accent for one," she pointed out. "And the fact that you're arrogant enough to wonder why I speak English…as if only you guys have the right."

"Alright, I asked for that." He admitted, throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You caught me off guard OK? I'm not exactly used to the people I save knowing what I'm saying to them. Makes a guy testy."

"Is it better that way then?" She asked, wondering why he seemed so unwilling to talk to her, especially since only moments ago he had been willing to take on a vampire and risk his life. "Easier to justify walking away when they don't understand what you're saying?"

"I don't know what you're problem is!" The guy snapped. "I mean, I saved your life. Why does it matter so much if I don't stop to chat?"

"Why?" She glared right back at him, daring him to challenge her. He was so much like her it was frightening. "Maybe I just get curious when one-eyed Americans follow me, kill a creature that isn't supposed to exist, then don't want to take any credit for it! What's your angle? What do you get out of it, if you don't want to be thanked or rewarded for risking your life? And don't say you just want to do good, cause I can see right here and now that that isn't the reason you do this."

"It used to be." He said quietly, so quietly that Isabel wasn't even sure she heard it. He looked away and his shoulder's slumped as if some heavy burden had just descended on him after a momentary reprieve. Finally, he looked back up at her. "I wasn't following you, I was following the vamp. I…I just want to kill them, that's all. I don't want to talk, or make friends, or save the world. I just want to…"

"Kill," she finished softly. She could see her desire to find and destroy Methos mirrored in the young man's one good eye. It wasn't Methos he was after specifically, but the core desire was the same. He was trying to fill up a part of himself that was now empty…a part that someone or something had taken from him. She could understand that…sympathize with it. "I get it. I'm sorry I bothered you. Thanks for what you did."

She turned to leave, not wanting to bother her rescuer any further. She had been lucky tonight, but the next time might not turn out that way. She would have to do her research on vampires, possibly ask her parents if they appeared to her why they hadn't warned her of the threat to begin with.

She had gotten halfway down the street when she heard the young man call after her.

"Wait!"

She stopped and turned as he ran to catch up.

"Look, I'm sorry I was so jerktastic back there." He quirked his mouth upward into what she could only assume was an attempt to smile. "I haven't exactly been Mr. Social since my friends and I moved here. I'm sorry."

"What does…jerktastic mean?" She asked, not understanding that particular piece of English. He laughed.

"It's slang for how rude I was." He replied. "My name is Xander Harris."

"Isabel DeLuca," she told him slightly reluctantly. It had been a long time since she had told anybody but a captive immortal her name. "Are you a…chosen one then?"

"A what?" He sounded slightly shocked by her question.

"You asked me if I was one of those when I told you I could have handled the vampire. You said 'the one we're looking for' and then 'chosen one'. What does that mean? Are you one of them?"

"No, I lack some of the major necessities for being a chosen one." Xander replied somewhat wryly. "I just thought…well you seemed like you wanted to fight that thing. Made me wonder. But if you're normal…not anything…out of the ordinary then don't worry about it. It's my problem."

"You like to do things on your own then," she surmised. He shrugged.

"I used to have people with me." He admitted sadly. "I kind of…drove them away. Anyway, it's better this way. I don't fight for the same reasons I used to."

"You fight to kill now." She reiterated his words from before and he nodded.

"Somehow I get the feeling you understand that…even if you are normal."

"You'd be surprised what I understand." She said, her tone suddenly hard and angry. "You don't have to be some supernatural demon fighter to have bad things happen to you. Believe me, vengeance is something anybody can understand if they have enough reason to."

"Do you?" He looked at her curiously, and she shrank back from the scrutiny. She might understand, even identify with him, but she sure as hell wasn't ready to share her deepest darkest secrets with a total stranger…even one who did just save her life. She liked the idea of him believing she was normal. It made her think that maybe someday she could be. That this would one day all just be a bad dream.

"This isn't about me." She told him softly, but firmly. "Look, I gotta get back home. Will I…am I going to see you again?"

"I don't know…I'm usually out here looking for trouble…the kind that could get people killed." His words did not match the look in his eye. He wanted to see her again, she could tell…but he was afraid. Of what, she couldn't be sure. She stepped closer to him and bit her lip.

"Look, if you want to talk again, here's my phone number." She wrote it down and handed it to him before he could protest. "I owe you at least that for what you did for me."

He should have said that she didn't owe him anything…and if this were just one year ago, he might have. But the idea of having someone non personal and available to talk to was one he did not want to give up. She didn't know the others, didn't know him. She didn't have to see what he had become…and she seemed to accept what he was. Maybe one of these nights he would take her up on that offer. He tucked the phone number into his pocket and nodded.

"See you later." Was all he could think to say. She nodded back and headed off into the night. He sighed and decided it was time to go home.