Note: I changed the Horror genre to Supernatural, simply because I don't think I have the room in these chapters (I'm keeping them short on purpose; my other Buffy fic has long chapters and it's hard to keep up) for all the gory details.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or anything associated with it. All rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and affiliated products belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.

Summary: Drusilla's request throws Spike for a loop; now there're fledglings in the warehouse wearing the faces of the Slayer and her best friend. "I want the pretty sunshine. Will you make her for me?"

Setting: AU from 'Halloween' (Season 2, Episode 6).

Rating: M

Pairings: Initial Sprusilla, eventual Spuffy.

Genre: Supernatural/Romance

Sunshine to Moonlight

Chapter Two

Willow was still feral the next night. While Buffy brushed her hair and plaited it, she was holed up in the corner, still growling at her every move. Standing still and simply watching her, Buffy cocked her head, wondering if Spike would eventually stake her if she didn't come to her senses soon. She didn't know exactly how long it took for new vampires to act like themselves again (now that she knew that a vampire was essentially just a freer version of their original self), but she knew that she'd come back to herself faster than normal. There was only a few moments of disorientation when she woke up, and then she'd known exactly what she was, what had happened to her, and what she'd been; Drusilla had implied that the Slayer inside of her had affected her, but Buffy wasn't sure she or anyone else knew how much.

It was still overwhelming, even though she still retained her sense of self. There were a lot more senses working overtime than she was used to; touch was much the same as ever, and taste seemed a little duller, but her sight, hearing, and scent were all working overtime to assess her surroundings. Adding to that, there was a sort of sixth sense that she'd sort-of had as the Slayer, allowing her to sense the presence of others, that had multiplied by about ten times with her transformation. She could rattle off the position of every vampire in a twenty-foot radius; she could probably sense humans, if there were any about. Spike and Drusilla were the most prominent blips on her radar; she could somehow sense that her Sire had been sired by his girlfriend, and more of the others around here were sired by Spike. She supposed they were like her brothers and sisters now?

She tugged on a black denim jacket (it went with her black miniskirt and green halter top, and she had no idea what to wear on a hunt). Smearing some dark red lipstick on her mouth, she figured she was ready to go; she couldn't see the effects in the mirror anymore, and had to rely on memory to picture what she looked like. She practiced slipping in and out of gameface a few more times, satisfied that she'd mastered it; she'd been practicing all day, since Spike had told her she was going out on the hunt tonight.

She was actually excited. Stepping into the main area of the factory, she was met with the sight of roughly twenty vampires, counting Spike, assembling themselves into groups of three or four. She stood off to the side, wondering who she'd be going with, until Spike noticed her presence. "Slayer! You're with me 'n' Steve tonight."

Buffy hurried along to join the two male vampires. "I'm not the Slayer anymore." She groused.

"Maybe not, Summers," Spike reached into his back pocket and fished out a newspaper clipping, "but s'not what the papers are sayin'."

Buffy took the proffered clipping, smoothing it out so she could read it.

Woman slain 'like Vampire'

The body of Joyce Summers was discovered in her Rovello Drive home last night. Killed by a broken neck, authorities have disclosed that the killer had pierced her heart with a wooden stake, much like the mythical creature, the vampire, is said to be killed. The 'Vampire Slayer', as dubbed by the police, is still at large…

Buffy's face remained impassive as she handed the clipping back. "So? One-time thing. Was told to make it obvious that I was there. To the Watcher."

Spike considered her for a moment. "Good work, then." He acknowledged. "Right, let's go, you pair. I feel like visitin' the Bronze tonight. Scare me up some booze."

They walked for an hour to get there; Buffy, obviously not as new to the area as the other two, got irritated with them when they began arguing at a three-way intersection, a few streets away from the club. Apparently Steve was fairly high up in the pecking order, if he could argue with Spike and get away with it. It was still too early to have many people there, and the music wasn't on yet, so there was no sounds or human presence to go by. They'd left the instant that the sun went down, and there was still a half-hour or so before the club opened. Spike and Steve were just going from memory.

"It's straight." Spike barked.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's right." Steve argued.

"And I'm tellin' you, it's bloody straight!"

Buffy coughed pointedly. "Guys…"

"I swear we went right last time!"

"You'd be wrong, mate!"

"Guys…"

"Spike, I know where I'm going!"

"You're bloody wrong."

Buffy had finally had enough, deciding to leave them behind and wait for when they finally showed up. She turned left and was halfway down the alley before she felt Spike close in on her. "Where the hell d'you think you're goin', fledge?" He demanded, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around to face his growling gameface.

"The Bronze." Buffy shrugged, nonchalant. "I didn't wanna stand at that intersection until the sun came up. Kinda hungry." She admitted.

"You're goin' the wrong way." Steve frowned at her, still wearing his human face.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at the two older, male vampires. "I've lived in this town for a year and a half." She pointed out. "The Bronze is five blocks from here, on the left. If you'd bothered to ask, I'd have told you that."

Spike unexpectedly struck her with the back of his hand; she stumbled backward from the force of the blow, but managed not to fall on her ass. "Quit bein' so insolent, you little blighter." He growled. "When I want your input, I'll ask."

"Yeah," Buffy scoffed despite the slight twinge of fear that blossomed in her gut this time around – at least she'd managed not to slip into gameface – "and we'd have been standing there for hours before you both realised that it was pointless to argue and just ask where the damn thing is. I didn't feel like waiting for the sun to burn us to a crisp, or maybe for Angel to come along with a stake." She raised her eyebrow again. "If he knows what me and Willow are now, you can bet he'd be after us. Waiting for us to go out hunting."

Spike regarded her levelly. "Fine." He bit, fangs receding. He swept an arm out in front of her. "Lead the way." He growled.

Buffy nervously turned and hurried along the alley. Her face stung from the force of the blow; she'd likely bruise after she fed, if she hadn't already. Her only shred of comfort was that Spike seemed to do whatever Drusilla wanted to, and Drusilla was positively gaga over Buffy; when Buffy woke from her sleep, two hours before sundown, Drusilla had insisted that Buffy sit with her and allow her to style her hair five different ways. Spike wouldn't dust Buffy if Dru wanted her… right?

She was relieved when they finally got there. Steve paid their entry fee, and the three of them slinked into the club and blended in with the regulars. Buffy felt a sense of déjà vu as she stalked up to the balcony area, scanning the crowd; it was just like it was before, when she'd come in and climb up to spot her friends in the throng. Only now, she was looking for a meal, and possibly clothes that fit. She leaned on the railing, eyes scanning the crowd for a girl roughly her size; with half of Sunnydale High there, it wasn't hard. Unfortunately, most of the girls preferred sequins and pastels this season, which was a problem for her. If she were going to fit in as a creature of the night, she needed something a little darker.

She sensed more than herd Spike presence behind her. Closing her eyes and letting the vibrations of the music come over her, she opened them when Spike leaned on the railing next to her. "See anythin' you like, Summers?" He asked almost conversationally, as if he hadn't just slugged her fifteen minutes beforehand. "Younger they are, the better they tend to taste, I find."

She shook her head, looking at the crowd again. "None of their clothes look any good." She groused, more to herself than to him. "I was hoping to get some new ones."

Spike snorted. "Nick 'em from a shop, luv." He said simply. "Go get yourself somthin' to eat before tall, dark and forehead gets here."

"Who?" She blinked.

"Angel." Spike shrugged. "Bloody ponce."

Buffy blinked again, looking at Spike again. "Right." She drawled. "I'll do that."

She turned to head toward the stairs when the world went wonky. She reached out and grabbed the railing, bowing her head and pinched her nose; she breathed deeply on reflex, feeling like she was about to tumble forward and fall face first on the iron floor. Everything greyed out for a moment before an image began to float into her mind.

It started with the clock; she knew she was facing the ground, but the image of the clock was in her mind's eye. It read eight thirty-two; the image then swung around to the front door. Angel, Giles and Xander all trooped in, grimly pulling stakes out of concealed pockets and began scouring the club – Angel caught Steve trying to lure a young girl out the back and dusted him on the spot.

She came back to herself with a sharp gasp, looking at the floor once more. Not bothering to question where the vision had come from, she cast her eye around for the clock; eight twenty-nine.

She pushed her way through the crowd to find Spike; he'd wandered away without noticing her predicament. Two minutes later, she eventually found him chatting up a young woman at the bar. Ignoring his irritated yelling and the scene she was making, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into a corner, catching the fist that he aimed at her face on reflex. "What the bloody hell—?"

She checked the clock. "We have less than one minute to get the hell outta here before Angel, Giles and Xander come in here with stakes." She hissed.

"What?"

"I saw it!" She hissed. "Everything went wonky and grey, and I saw it." She was anxiously casting her eye at the door. "They're here!" She squeaked, pointing at the door.

Spike growled a little. Grabbing her wrist, he started looking for their comrade in the crowd. "Where the bloody hell is that idiot…?"

"If you're talking about Steve, it's probably too late for him." Buffy whispered, still heard over the din. "Angel went for him straight away."

Sure enough, they heard the telltale sound of a small implosion, signifying the end of a vampire. Growling a little, Spike pulled her into the shadows. She knew it wouldn't do much if Angel took it upon himself to look behind him, but it provided them with some level of cover as they inched around the room. By now, the three of them were well into the crowd; Spike let go of Buffy's arm as the two of them slipped out past the bouncer (who gave them a wink, remembering them entering less than half an hour ago. He probably thought they'd given their friend the slip for some 'alone time' or something stupid like that) and into the street. They broke out into a run as soon as they cleared the line, and didn't stop until they reached the Restfield Cemetery halfway across town.

"You mind tellin' me how you knew they were comin'?" Spike demanded as they slowed to a walk.

Buffy chewed her lip. "I told you," she insisted, "I saw it."

"Saw as in, you saw them through a window?" Spike stopped cold and crossed his arms, staring her down like a displeased father.

Buffy tried to look as innocent as possible. "Uh-uh." She shook her head. "I got dizzy and greyed out. Then I sort of… had a vision?"

"A vision." He repeated flatly.

"Um… yes?" She smiled sweetly, wondering if she was going to get into trouble for denying she had the Sight before.

"Thought you didn't have visions." He pointed out, still in a flat voice.

She shrugged a little, hugging herself. "I didn't think I did?" She tried. "Honest, first vision I ever had, outside of a dream."

"You sure?"

"I think I'd remember that feeling." She rolled her eyes. "Not exactly the most pleasant of sensations." She was surprised at the lack of punches heading her way. Peaking up at him, she noted that he looked like the cat that ate the canary, and still had a saucer of cream to boot. "Are you okay?" The look was strange on him.

His smug grin seemed permanently attached to his face. "This is brilliant." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together in glee. "Your ruddy 'Slayer dreams' have turned into the Sight. Dru was right." They took a moment to bask in the unlikeliness of that ever happening. "C'mon, girl, lets get you someone to eat." He wrapped an arm around her waist almost gently, and steered her toward the centre of the park.

She was a little nervous and bewildered at his sudden change in attitude to her. He seemed almost to like her now. She'd expected to be hit for her cheeky attitude, like before.

They found a few likely looking couples smooching on a bench in the centre of the part. Walking past them, Spike and Buffy looked like any other couple out for a moonlit stroll – or they would have, had it not been for their predatory posture and the way their eyes kept sizing up other people in the area, deciding who had the most blood and who would be the most fun to chase down.

Eventually, Spike settled on the youngest-looking couple there. Buffy recognised one of the Cordettes, some stupid girl by the name of Aura (whatever the hell kind of name that was anyway) and some dude on the football team who had asked Buffy out the previous year. As they reached the tree line, Spike released his hold on her. They circled around behind the couple, waiting until either the other people left, or the pair they'd targeted decided to get a little more privacy.

Spike growled a little in annoyance after an hour. Buffy was hungry, and was on the verge of complaining about it when the couple finally decided that it was cold out, and headed for the parking lot. Sending a thankful sigh into the night air, Buffy followed Spike as he led the hunt, jogging to catch up with their prey. It was as soon as they rounded the corner that they caught up to the pair. After snapping their necks and draining the corpses of blood, Buffy thought that it might be a good thing that Spike seemed to have warmed up to her because of her new talent. It might almost guarantee her a long and fruitful unlife.