Chapter Four.

Author's Notes: In this story, Buffy is the Slayer of course, but this time she has no Watcher, as the previous one in L.A. was killed by Lothos.

"That was a lovely dinner, Mrs. Summers. I hope we can do it again sometime," Angel marveled. Both William and himself were exiting to return to their home, Buffy and her mom trailing not too far behind them. It was evident that they were both in awe of his charismatic presence. Buffy herself was already falling deeply for him. It was sheer evidence to the contrary that he was kind, good-natured, and intelligent. Most importantly, he resembled some sort of stability; something that Buffy was in desperate need considering her dangerous nightly duty of having to battle the forces of evil.

So why did her Slayer senses detect something that was not quite right about him?

"My pleasure. You're welcome to come visit anytime," Joyce offered warmly, opening the front door for both gentlemen. Angel responded by grinning and nodding his head, then shot a short glance at Buffy, dark eyes boring into her hazel ones. For a minute, they were lost in each other, until Joyce abruptly cut the connection short. "I hope to be seeing you more Miss Summers. Perhaps we can go out to dinner sometime?" Angel offered, placing a soft kiss to Buffy's small, firm hand.

A strange look quickly developed on his handsome face before immediately vanishing, never allowing anyone to notice the off mark expression. He noticed the hidden strength underlying Buffy; something that was not evident in the other girls he had seduced in many centuries past. Something that instinct had told him was not quite human. His interest in her piqued despite the discomfort and puzzlement.

"Peaches, c'mon, we have to go and get our things settled then," William scurried, glancing at his watch while tapping its' face with the tip of his finger. "Meet me in the car," Angel ordered, expecting William to obey his command. He did. He spun to face the two women. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. I hope we'll do this again sometime?" He offered, giving Buffy one last look before walking directly into the night.

"You bet," Buffy answered a bit too late, despite her instinct warning of potential danger. A glow emanated from her, and her mother took notice. "Seeing something you like?" Buffy eyed her mother, a blush conveying on her cheeks, before answering, "Maybe." She left her mother to ramble to herself, quickly making her way up the stairs towards her bedroom, preparing to settle in on a night where no demons were roaming the streets.

Hours later, right before the light rays of the dawn were to arrive, she slept peacefully, holding tightly against the plush cushion of Mr. Gordo between her arms. She hadn't noticed a shadow lurking underneath her open window, its' eyes boring onto her sleeping form with longing and a sense of forbidden desire.

It licked its' lips in anticipation, its' aching teeth beginning to develop into lengthening, needle points that were surpassing his chin, hungry for the scent of warm blood. "Soon, you will be mine," it murmured at nothing before vanishing, the first rays of the sun filtering in through the open blinds, welcoming a new day.

She vehemently tossed and turned underneath the mass amounts of cotton sheets and comforter. She was caught in the line of fire. In every direction, hoards of bloodthirsty vampires could be seen throughout the dank alleys, all gathering into mass hunting parties, hungry and desperate for her blood. These were not ordinary vampires, she noticed in the dream; rather, they were the soulless bodies of the fallen citizens of Sunnydale; victims of what was now deemed to be a unknown murder spree plaguing upon the quaint, yet secretive town.

Her body thrashed and convulsed violently under the sheets, and she was keenly aware why, despite being in REM sleep. She saw herself amongst the fallen, a set of fangs glistening from her mouth, a cruel sneer etched in her vampiric face. Alongside her stood the beautiful man she had only met last night. Angel, as a member of the undead.

"Had a rough dream last night?" Her mother asked a few hours later, sipping a cup of strong black coffee while reading the newspaper, perching comfortably in the kitchen island. Buffy yawned, reaching towards the refrigerator for a glass of orange juice. "More than a dream, Mom. This one gave me the actual wiggins. Couldn't sleep after that," she admitted sluggishly, prying to keep her eyes open despite the lack of rest. A blaring noise coming from the television caught her attention.

"We now have breaking news to report. Sources are confirming that another body of a young woman has been discovered in the alley behind the Sun Cinema building. Police say twenty-four year old Sarah Marshall, of Sunnydale, was discovered behind a dumpster only a few feet from the theatre establishment. COD seems to be caused by a weapon resembling a barbecue fork. Apparent bruising has been discovered between the neck and shoulder area, but police have no confirmed information as to whether or not the death was accidental or foul play was involved. No clues or leads have been discovered, although police believe that the death is closely connected to the other four recent murders with similar M.O.'s. The police are now seeking information for any leads or clues that may lead to potential suspects. Anyone with information is asked to call this number."

Tingles of alertness coursed through the Slayer's veins. She paused for a moment in order to gather herself. She suspected that vampires were behind the rampant murders. The clues were much obvious. "Poor girl. I do hope they find whoever did this," Joyce shook her head in sympathy, placing the last few dirty dishes into the sink with a loud clank.

Lips forming into a hard line, Buffy was sternly determined to begin her investigation. Her first course of action? Beating the info out of Willy the Snitch.

"Peaches, what the hell are ya doing, you big bunt? You can't just keep killin' these women off-handily," William scolded, pacing back and forth anxiously, releasing a puff of smoke from his cigarette as he eyed his grandsire with disdain and disbelief. Angel remained silent, peering off into the distance. "You're attracting attention from the boys in blue. What'd they'd say if they knew about us? And with this Slayer lurking about….."

Angel dismissed William's scolding. "Let them look. After all, this is Sunnydale. None of the fools truly believe that they are living upon a Hellmouth. As for this Slayer, maybe she does not exist. It could be a figment of the Powers' imagination." He took a deep drink of the blood coursing through his wine glass, savoring the taste pressing between his cold lips.

William shook his head in quiet bewilderment. His grandsire truly was thick headed. "And what if you're wrong? What if she knows about us? Hunting us down?" Angel finally spun in his chair to look at his grand childe. "Well, then we accept the challenge. Who knows? Nothing more fitting nor ironic than to have the Slayer as my Queen, don't you think?"

At this, Angel flashed his brilliant, dashing smile. It sent shivers down William's back. He grinned devilishly in return, taking another puff before exhaling in joy.