A/N: I'm sorry I'm updating later than I expected. My computer's being retarded and won't let me log in. . . . Well, that and a serious case of writer's block. But at least now I can give you this chapter after such a long time of torture.
By the way, I'm introducing my OC-Bad-Guy in this chapter. Hope you like it.
Buffy drove steadily for once, though her hands gripped the steering wheel very tightly. Willow and the other girls were laughing about some joke as Buffy thought to herself. Now that Sesshomaru was living in the house freely, she was going to have to be careful about patrol; he was probably going to follow her everywhere at night to learn more about slayers. The same went for Faith because she came back to Sunnydale with the rest of the gang. The construction workers rebuilt the apartment that the Mayor Wilkins gave her (Season Three, "Dopplegangland").
Buffy had called Faith before she started the car and now she was driving on the highway. It was only an hour's drive to Angel's place. Soon, she'd be able to see her sister again and her new friends could meet her.
Buffy knew that calling Giles would worry him extremely, and with running the Slayer School in England for the past two years he already had enough to worry about. She knew the British ex-Watcher wouldn't blow a gasket if the peace was disturbed by an arrogant demon from the past who was a know-it-all seeking power (been there, done that), but he would be plenty annoyed. Giles was always saying that demons from the Feudal Era were slightly more powerful than the normal demons in Sunnydale, and royal ones even more so.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Sunnydale, down in the former Hellmouth, a seemingly ordinary-looking man was carrying a heavy-looking messenger bag through the halls of the newly built Sunnydale High (version three) like it was as light as a feather. He had shaggy, cover-his-eyes dirty-blonde hair and was wearing sunglasses to cover his hazel eyes. Our mystery man was wearing one of those loose button up, cotton blue-green plaid shirts, but somehow it looked hot on him. The man was wearing the new Gap men's version of the tan boyfriend khaki pants. He was Caucasian-fineness! To say he was gorgeous would be the understatement of the millennium.
But, our could-be underwear model had a fatal drawback: he was evil to the core. His name was Kyle and he was the younger brother of Caleb, the "pretend-priest" Buffy had to fight two years ago the save Sunnydale (Season Seven, of course). And Kyle just so happened to be looking for vengeance.
Kyle happened to be a well-practiced warlock with martial arts moves to spare. He'd fought against two Slayers prier to moving to Sunnydale, just like Spike. And, also like Spike, he'd killed each one.
Sure, when it came to his exuding hotness, he knew how to use it. Oh man, did he know. Whenever Kyle needed to get information from women, he charmed them to the point where they felt like jelly. And when he needed information from guys, his darker half showed itself, but only when it was absolutely necessary. I guess you could say he was the best negotiator around.
And now, here he was, in Sunnydale carrying a sack full of potions, wishbones and other magical junk (A/N: My thoughts, not his.) to his cave/slash lab under the new high school. UM-WW (A/N: Underwear Model-We Wish.) had built the lab about half a year ago under the guise of night. No one knew he was there, and when the school was open to the students, he would act as a teacher there to make his trips there less suspicious.
As Kyle descended the steps that he had carved that led from the basement to the lab, he smirked to himself. After all these months his plan would hit the Summers Slayer full force and knock her off her pedestal for good.
. . . To Be Continued
A/N: So, how'd you peoples like my intro to Buffy's antagonist? In my next chapter, we'll get inside our Sexy Bad Guy's head and find out the first part his plans to destroy Buffy. Also, Dawn, Faith, Angel and Cordelia will join the party and Sesshomaru'll do some Secret-Agent-Man investigating.
Laterness!