A/N: Thank you to my beta Tametiger!

Chapter 2

Conversations in the Dark

Restless around ten o'clock that evening, Sam put on his sweatpants, grabbed the motel key and went out for a run.

His little family was a study in frustrating contradictions, old enough to be left alone, yet, when they were around, his father and brother were annoyingly overprotective.

He relished the measure of freedom afforded to him while his father and brother were away – had they been here, they would have protested against him going out alone so late. In the end they would have relented, after Sam was drilled in preparedness and "what if" scenarios. ("Where is your knife, Sammy? Which one are you taking? Why not the silver one? What if you meet a werewolf, Sammy?")

Of course, even when he was alone, his father and brother were never far from his thoughts (silver dagger strapped to his left calf, holy water bottle, small baggie of salt in his pocket).

In the last year, Dean had been joining his father on hunts, while Sam stayed alone in rented houses, if they expected to stay for a long period of time, or in the cheapest motel that the town-du-jour had to offer. He had tagged along on the occasional weekend hunt, but his father and brother were so protective of him that he rarely was in the forefront of any action. Sam was conflicted about this – he hated the transient lifestyle his family followed, but he was annoyed with their over-protectiveness. If needed, he could protect himself – it was, after all, what he had been trained to do.

Although it was February, the air was brisk, but not freezing and, as he ran along-side the streets, he let his thoughts wander over the events of his first day at Sunnydale High.

Compared to the myriad of schools he had attended in the past, it had been a satisfactory start.

Obviously, the school was small enough that his arrival was noticed and one friendly girl in particular with long, sleek chestnut hair stopped to help him find his classroom. She slid her hands up and down his arm, remarked on his biceps before she hooked her arm through his and escorted him to his second period Geography class.

"Aren't you just a tall drink of water," she purred when he thanked her for her help.

Clearly, she was interested, though Sam wasn't. Busty and forward weren't his type (he could almost feel the slap Dean would give him on the back of his head if Dean heard him say that out loud "Bro! Are you INSANE? Busty and forward are any man's type! The BEST type!").

Dean would have had this girl in a mop closet within two minutes Sam thought. This was fact, not exaggeration, such events he witnessed on more than one occasion.

In third period English, he'd met Oz, a junior, who loaned him a textbook and effortlessly followed the lesson without the book. During the class, Sam remembered the kids in the back of the room goofing around. All it took was for Oz to turn in their seats and give them a look and the kids settled down. When the teacher asked a question and Oz spoke, the whole class got still and Sam watched as everyone leaned toward Oz as if they didn't want to miss a single word.

It was interesting.

At one point the teacher left the room, the class was quiet for a minute. Then, Oz leaned over to Sam and started talking and, as if on cue, the rest of the class started chattering to each other. Sam got the impression that if Oz didn't talk at all, the rest of the class would have stayed quiet too.

"So – you're new." Oz stated.

Sam, with the exception of a few minor details (demon-chasing, hunter father, hunter brother), practically spilled his life story, which only took about three minutes. Oz knew more about Sam than any person Sam had met in the last four years.

"I'm in a band." Oz said, "We are playing Saturday night at Steve's. You should come." Oz leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. Again, as if on cue, all the kids in the class got quiet and, a few seconds later, the teacher walked back into the room.

Then he found the library. He marveled still over finding those unique volumes in a school library of all places.

The best and most surprising part of his day was the library, not to mention the petit blonde he had seen.

Sam slipped his head phones over his ears and picked up the pace of his jog. Jane's Addiction's "Been Caught Stealing" blasted into his ears; he grinned and his jog became a flat-out run.

Thirty minutes later, Sam leaned against a tree and started stretching out his legs and arms. After a few minutes, he sat at the base of the tree and closed his eyes. He listened to Billy Idol's "Prodigal Blues", unaware of the commotion behind him.

"So, I… Uh!... give him my fiercest glare…opf!... you know the one…" Buffy flipped the vampire over her shoulder put her foot on the vamp's abdomen and looked at her friend. Willow was sitting on the top of headstone, one leg was crossed over top of the other, the loose leg dangled and swung back and forth. She looked at Buffy and scrunched up her face.

"Would that be the one that feels like a cold wind coming down from Canada or the one that makes you feel no bigger than a wee-antie?" She held up her fist, with the forefinger and thumb extended, barely touching, to indicate the size of said wee-antie.

"Yes!" Buffy exclaimed, nodding her head in confirmation, and Willow followed suit.

"But did it make him feel all small and…wee? Did it? No! He was laughing at me, Willow! ME!" The vamp - tall, thin with a broad forehead and bug-eyed reminded her of Lurch from The Addams Family - squirmed under her foot, trying to get his hands in position to push her foot off. Buffy lifted her foot and stomped on the vamp on the last word.

Lurch grunted.

"He had no right! He stood there so tall and smirk-y and –and-did I mention the tall?" Buffy glared accusingly at the vamp under her foot.

"Tall." Willow made a scoffing noise. "Who did he think he was?"

Buffy knelt down, flipped her wrist and grasped a stake from nowhere. She pulled her arm back, and quickly plunged the stake into the vampire. Dust exploded, getting in her face and she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep from coughing.

"I don't know. But I have had it with the mysterious guys and the –oh!- tall! No more!" Buffy said.

"Ah." Willow gave a knowing nod. "So – no word from Angel lately then?" she asked gently.

Buffy hung her head for the briefest of moment, shaking it from side to side. Then she heard a noise from behind her and Willow pointed a helpful finger.

"Thhhhho…Thhhhlayer!" a voice hissed. She supposed it could have been considered menacing, if it weren't for the lisp.

Buffy perked up. She wheeled around with a spinning kick, struck the vamp across the face and knocked him to the ground. As the vampire went flying, Buffy rolled forward across the ground and landed in a kneeling position in front of the vamp.

"You men! You are so - ugh!" She emphasized the last word with a vicious jab of the stake.

"Feeling better?" asked Willow hopefully.

"Much!" Buffy looked at her friend at grinned.

Willow looked at her watch and then gave a small yelp.

"Gotta go, Buffy, bed check is in ten minutes. If I am not home by then, my mom will wig." Willow called over her shoulder as she ran across the grass of the graveyard toward the road, toward her home. Buffy looked down at her clothes and brushed the dust off.

"Another pair of perfectly good jeans." She muttered mournfully as she inspected the grass stains on her knees and grimaced at the thought of the laundry she would have to do tonight. These had been her last clean pair of jeans and she had hoped they wouldn't get too dirty tonight, so that she could wear them tomorrow. No such luck.

With a resigned sigh, she started to walk across the grass to the road.

Time for home she thought, until she saw a shape that started to separate from the tree.

The shape seemed to grow taller and taller in front of her eyes. As she shifted her weight, Buffy changed her stance into Slayer-stalking mode, her eyes narrowed as the shape separated from the tree and she recognized it.

"Hey! Are you spying on me again?" The guy (Sam, she remembered) started to walk away and Buffy gritted her teeth at the quiet chuckle she heard.

"Hey! I'm talking here!" she raised her voice a little louder but this had no effect on the newcomer's movements.

They can't do that! She thought to herself.

She was the Slayer! Who did guys think they were walking away…first her dad, then Angel of the cryptic foreboding warnings and occasional smoochies, and now this, skyscraper of a kid? Buffy was tired of it!

She reached forward and grabbed his arm…

Sam knew it was time to go home, but for the first time in a few days, he felt relaxed. He stood up slowly from the tree and thought that it was a pretty spot, even if it was nighttime. He might come here tomorrow afternoon and do some reading. The fact that it was in a graveyard didn't bother him. It would be almost…refreshing…to be able to just sit in a graveyard without the usual digging, salting, burning and re-fill routine he engaged in with his family.

He chuckled at the idea …it was-

His thought never finished as he was suddenly yanked backwards and flipped on his back. The breath whooshed out from him and he blinked at Buffy, who stood over him with a smirk on her face and he didn't think he had ever seen anyone so beautiful.

He said aloud what he had been thinking for the last few hours.

"What's it like to be The Slayer?" He asked.

Buffy looked at him for a moment. Then with one of her snappy trademark comebacks, she said, "Hunh?"

They had sat at the base of the tree in front of the graveyard for the better part of half an hour.

At first, she stood over Sam - didn't even bother to deny the Slayer part - but she did want to know how Sam found out. She could hear Giles' voice in her head as he berated her inability to keep the Slayer secret; "Good lord girl, do the words 'secret identity' not mean anything to you? First Xander and Willow and now this chap? Why not take out an ad in the Sunday edition of the Sunnydale Courier?"

When he tried to sit up, Buffy just planted a foot on his chest, which forced him to lie back down; after three times he gave up and relaxed on the ground while she questioned him.

Sam explained how he noticed the Slayer volumes in the Library and had become intrigued; Buffy cringed and realized that was how Giles found out about the miss-shelved books, which she was supposed to have "put away in their proper place". She could only imagine his reaction if he learned that Sam had seen them too - she would never hear the end of it!

He recounted his return to the Library; she commented on the fact that it must be a Sunnydale high first – two visits in the school library from a non-Scooby on the same day were unusual, and his discovery that the books were missing. Instead, he had found "The Slayer's Arsenal" and became so engrossed in the book that he didn't realize that he wasn't alone until it was too late.

She snickered.

"They aren't exactly interesting," she interjected, "I mean, watching stakes being sharpened are more interesting that those things!"

Buffy was still skeptical until he mentioned her flips and seemed appropriately impressed, which prompted her to tell him if he believed that was impressive, he should see her roundhouse back flip.

In a friendly gesture, she extended her hand and clasped his palm for a moment when she pulled him up so that he was finally standing.

That's funny, she thought to herself when she absently rubbed her tingling palm on her jean clad thighs and, in the darkness, didn't notice that Sam did the same.

They chatted for a few more minutes, until Buffy pointed to the base of the tree and told him, "Would you sit already? I am way- way too young to have the neck problems of a ninety year old hunchback."

It might be dark, but she could make out his shadow.

After he sat, she plopped down next to him. He asked her questions about being called, about Watchers and the need for secrecy; she shared with him about her guilt over the constant lies she told her mom and how it felt to be asked if she was "morbid much?" when she asked other people about mysterious deaths.

Sam nodded empathetically.

"I can relate," he responded, but failed to elaborate further.

Buffy didn't see how he – or anyone else for that matter – could relate to her situation, yet, at the same time, she felt as if he had told her the truth.

Soon, she told him about her first watcher, Merrick, and Lothos, the vampire that killed him. Unexpectedly, Buffy felt the sting in her eyes as she remembered Merrick, she tried not to think about him too much as the memories always brought a rush of sadness and guilt. Although it was dark and Sam couldn't see the sheen of tears in her eyes, he heard the catch in her voice when she spoke of Merrick.

"You miss him, don't you?" he asked.

"I do. In the beginning, I thought he was this crazy, old perv and even though I didn't know him for very long, he taught me so much. It hurt when I found out he was dead."

"And now, you have Giles." Sam stated.

"You make me sound so fickle!" Buffy said, peeved. "It wasn't like that you know. I wasn't all-like-'Oh my Watcher is dead, I need to replace him with a new Watcher.' We moved from LA and came here and Giles was already here, waiting for me. I didn't go looking for him or anything…" Buffy trailed off.

There were those feeling of sadness and guilt again.

She had tried not to like Giles too much, tried not to rely on him too much. But the liking of Giles crept up on her. He was just so – so – Giles. When it came to mystical entities he was the guru, the go-to guy, yet so clueless about everything else. Who didn't love a clueless Giles? He was so much fun to tease!

Sam sat quietly, head tilted toward her and just as Buffy was about to lose control and feel vulnerable and un-slayer-like, he looked away. Buffy took a deep breath and composed herself.

"I just wish there wasn't so much death." She said.

"There is always death," Sam said quietly looking at the stars.

The pair sat quietly together and studied at the night sky for a few minutes. Buffy decided she liked this guy. She didn't feel gauche and silly, as she sometimes did with Angel or the need to chatter on to fill the silence either. It was - Buffy searched for the right word – relaxing.

"Vengeance."

The word was spoken so quietly, she almost didn't hear him when he finally spoke, but it had a fierceness to it that made Buffy look at Sam. He stared straight ahead and then turned to look down at her. Buffy could not see his eyes, but she could feel the burning intensity of his gaze.

"I assume you got it." He continued, his voice soft.

Buffy looked up at his face. He leaned forward, his face close to hers. Buffy, looked into his eyes (at least she hoped it was his eyes, she could have been looking at his left nostril for all she knew).

"Oh I got my vengeance," her voice rang with satisfaction, "I got it and then some."

Buffy told Sam about the Gym at Hemry. She told her story with humor and her description of her slaying tactics caused Sam to laugh out loud a few times.

"…and the next thing I know the gym is burning, police and fire trucks are pulling up to Hemry left, right and center and all the kids are pointing their fingers at me! That's gratitude for you," Buffy grumbled. "I save them from getting a giant vampire hickey and they tattle to the police!"

Sam shook his head. He couldn't believe that she burned down the gym and, if he hadn't seen evidence of her athleticism earlier, he wouldn't have even believed that she could take on one vampire, let alone a gang of them.

"The police might have labeled that 'illegal and destructive' but I call it 'resourceful and heroic'." Once he uttered the words Sam wished he could retract them. He sounded like a freaking turd. In fact if his brother were here, he would smack Sam on the back of his head and tell him "Stop being a freaking turd!"

Buffy, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Resourceful and heroic," She mused to herself, "I like the sound of that." She reached up and stretched her arms about her head, arching her back before she stood up. Sam stood up as well.

"It has been fun, riding this roller coaster of emotions with you, Sam. But now it is time for me to get home and get some shut-eye. I have a Biology quiz tomorrow that I am soooo not ready for. I need to get a good night's rest so I can really earn that "C+" that I deserve!"

"Good night, Buffy." Reluctant for their conversation to end, he quickly spoke again. "Want me to walk you home? It's really dark outside and someone could-" Realizing what he had been about to say, Sam flushed, grateful that the girl beside him couldn't see his face.

"Nah. The advantage of being a Slayer is the things that go bump in the night- human or otherwise - are not as scary as one might think."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." At least I hope I will he finished silently. With his family's lifestyle, he could never predict how long they stayed in any given town. Sam turned and jogged away.

Buffy turned and walked down the quiet road in the opposite direction, lost in her thoughts. Abruptly, she stopped and sighed.

"Okay…you can stop lurking in the shadows. It's late and I really need to get home."

"I can never sneak up on you, can I?" Angel said.

"Nope. Some call it instinct, others call it intuition. I call it Buffy's patented 'Vamp-dar' just another fringe benefit from being 'One Girl In All The World'. What's up? Has the Master hatched another heinous plan to escape his dimension-thingy?"

"No. Not everything is about the Master, Buffy." She bristled at the censure in his voice and wished she didn't always feel so silly, so young, when he was around.

"Sheesh. Sorry. It is just usually, you appear out of nowhere to warn me about the Master or some plot to 'lead the Slayer into Hell'. I just assumed-that's all."

"No, I was just out taking a walk, enjoying the nice fresh air, that's all." Angel said.

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded skeptically, "'cause fresh air is what a vampire values most."

"Who was that guy?"

"That was Sam, a new kid at school. We bumped into each other."

"Bumped into each other? At a graveyard?" Angel paced the sliver of turf that ran parallel the concrete sidewalk. "And then you tell him your life story? Do you do that with every strange guy you meet?"

"Why are you acting so strange? You're acting like a jealous boyfriend - which you are not - boyfriend I mean, 'cause that would imply that we were dating - which we are not - because if we were dating, that would involve boyfriend things, like phone calls and dates."

Angel stopped his pacing and turned toward Buffy.

"Buffy, you know I-" Buffy held up her hand, they had covered this territory before.

"I know. I know." She said quietly. "I need to go."

"Buffy that guy…"

"Angel, please, I need to go home. I am tired." And suddenly she was. Tired. Tense. The relaxed feeling she had felt before, sitting under the tree with Sam, was gone.

"It's just…" he floundered, "Buffy, I don't think he is just a guy. I think..." Angel stopped and ran his hand through his hair.

"You think what, Angel?

"Buffy, I think he is a Hunter."

He was in the Amazon when he felt…something. Nothing he could put his (human meat-suit) finger on, but it was like a slow drain of energy from his connection to his boy. He would not allow this; he had worked for too long and too hard. If he was right and this boy was The One, then he needed to find out what was happening.

He had friends in Sunnydale, friends that played their own small part in his plans - plans that had been decades in the making.

Phase One – free The Master, who had been trapped there for more than fifty years. He made it a point to stop by once a decade to catch up on old times with his old friend.

It had been eight years since his last visit. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to return to Sunnydale a little early and check on the boy…

~Stay Tuned…