a/n: Thanks, everyone, for your reviews! They're my motivation :D
Spike held the cross, gold and ornate, on a red velvet pillow, so it wouldn't burn his pallid skin.
"This is it, then," he smirked at it, holding it front of Drusilla as they rested in the makeshift bedroom of their lair, Dru's scarves and dolls and tarot cards strewn around the place.
"It hums," she said dreamily, her hand hovering above the golden cross, "I can hear it."
"Once you're well again we'll have a coronation down main street," Spike said, kneeling in front of her, "And we'll invite everyone and drink for seven days and seven nights."
"What about the slayer?" asked Dalton
Spike growled under his breath at Dalton's unwelcome interruption. The scrawny undead transcriber stood awkwardly by the door, peering at them with shifty eyes beneath his glasses.
"She almost blew the whole thing for us. She's trouble," said Dalton.
Spike clenched his jaw. "You don't say?" he said, standing up and setting the cross down beside Drusilla, "Trouble? She's the gnat in my ear! The grizzle in my teeth. She's the bloody thorn in my bloody side!"
"Spike," said Drusilla, gazing at her lover with concern.
"We've got to do something," said Spike, "We'll never find your cure with that slayer breathing down our necks. I need to bring in the big guns. They'll take care of her, once and for all."
"Big guns?" asked Dalton.
"The Order of Taraka."
"The bounty hunters?"
Drusilla grinned to herself, setting three tarot cards down in front of her. A three headed sphinx, a giant centipede, a hiding tiger.
"They're coming to my party," she said gleefully, "Three of them."
"Y-Yes, but... they're the Order of Taraka. I mean, isn't that overkill?" asked Dalton.
"No," said Spike, looking at the cards over Drusilla's shoulder, "I think it's just enough kill."
…
Quinn waited on the curb on the very corner of McKinley High as kids flooded out of the building, driving away in cars or walking home in tight groups of friends. She noticed how the others girl in red and white Cheerios uniforms avoided her and strutted the other way with their uniformed friends. Even now that she was back on the team, the others girls whispered about her and made jokes at her expense. It didn't feel that different from when she was pregnant and unpopular. She was beginning to think she should give up cheerleading altogether.
Jesse was very much in favor of that option. Maybe he was right. Being a Cheerio didn't make her as happy as it used to and it took away time that could be spent keeping her 3.9 GPA up and training with Jesse. He had her laboriously memorising what the moon would be like throughout the year. She wanted to say that it was all pointless, but if it would bring her closer to getting her daughter back, she would put her reluctant trust in him.
Quinn turned her head and spotted a familiar brunette walking towards the car her dads generously gave her for her sixteenth birthday.
"Rachel!" she called to the girl crossing the parking lot.
Rachel squinted at Quinn, and then smiled politely and met the blond halfway.
"Hi, Quinn," Rachel smiled, always pleased to talk to her, although Quinn could tell she'd been crying by her red-rimmed eyes.
"Hi," said Quinn, "I'd been meaning to talk to you about everything that happened recently."
Rachel looked down at the pavement. "You don't have to."
"I'm sorry."
Rachel bit her lip. "Does everyone know?"
"No," Quinn shook her head, although she wasn't so sure, "But I live with Santana, so..."
Rachel sighed. "I should have known, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"He cheated on you when you two were together. With me, no less," Rachel shook her head.
"It's not the same," Quinn shook her head, her blond ponytail bouncing, "Finn and I had a really strained relationship, and that was a kiss or two, not..."
Quinn trailed off, not wanting to remind Rachel about her ex-boyfriend's sordid night with Santana.
"Yeah. He never would have done that to you."
"What? No, he might have... He really did love you more," Quinn said, furrowing her brow and asking herself what on Earth she was trying to say, "Look, I'm just sorry that you got hurt. I'm probably not the best friend. I know I'm not there for you a lot, but I will admit that I care about you, and if you ever needed to talk..."
"Thanks, Quinn," Rachel said quietly, smiling, "You have no idea how happy it makes me that you think we're friends."
Quinn smirked and met Rachel's eyes, until they were both distracted by a car horn honking. Quinn looked behind her and her face went pale to see Jesse waiting impatiently in the driver's seat of his black SUV. She held up one finger to him, and he glanced at both her and Rachel and nodded stiffly.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" Rachel asked when Quinn turned back to her.
"Sure," said Quinn, afraid of what Rachel might ask.
"Are you and Jesse dating?"
"No," Quinn sighed, "Not at all. Me and Jesse are... complicated."
Rachel nodded, not wanting to seem too nosy. "How do you know him?"
Quinn swiftly looked back at Jesse before she replied. "We grew up across the street from each other. We were best friends in elementary school."
"Really?" Rachel looked surprised, "What happened?"
Quinn sighed to herself. There was no reason she had to hide anything from Rachel, was there?
"Jesse and I were really into witchcraft when we were young. I'm pretty sure the only reason he noticed me was because he saw me set a rose on fire one day. He took up witchcraft, too, but he wasn't quite as good as me. I could do more than him and he knew that, so he got me to do things he couldn't."
"Like what?" asked Rachel, mildly concerned.
Quinn grimaced, thinking of the days she spent with Jesse intimidating the kids in their class and finding their way out of chores, by the power of magic.
"It doesn't matter," Quinn shook her head, "Whatever it was, I did it. I could never say no to him because I had such a big damn crush on the boy."
"Why did you stop being friends?"
"We got in a little too deep. Jesse had started getting me to use my magic to summon things and even hurt people... At the end of middle school, I used my magic to make me look different. Thinner. Prettier. Blonder. Jesse hated it. He thought it was a waste of my power. I just thought he was jealous that people were going to like me and I wouldn't depend on him anymore. I knew that I was going to be popular and I wouldn't do what he wanted me to. We had a big fight and we stopped talking."
Rachel sighed deep, looking like she was processing it all. "Jesse never even mentioned magic to me when we were dating."
"It's not really something you bring up when you're getting to know someone. He probably thought he'd sound crazy."
Although Quinn knew that wasn't the reason at all. Still, she wasn't about to be the first to break it to Rachel that her mom was a witch and she probably was one, too.
"So why did you start hanging out again?"
Quinn grimaced. She also didn't want to tell Rachel about her plot to take her daughter back from Shelby. Then she'd be the one who sounded crazy.
"He's helping me with my witchcraft," said Quinn, "And don't worry. He's different now. He's learned a lot. Might not necessarily have my power but he has a lot more control than I do. I know what he did to you last year, and I don't agree with it, but... I really need his help."
Rachel nodded. "You don't need to explain anything to me."
Quinn shrugged, because even though she knew she didn't, she felt like she did.
"Bye, Rachel," Quinn said, and leaned forward to give the girl an awkward, one-armed hug.
Quinn sprinted back to Jesse's SUV and hopped into his passenger seat.
"Don't say anything," she warned him.
"I thought you didn't care about Rachel Berry," he smirked.
"I lied," said Quinn, stone-faced.
"As long as you're honest about it now. Have you memorised the phases?"
"Yes," Quinn grumbled, "Can we move on today? I'm sick of the moon."
"Of course we can," said Jesse, driving away from the school and towards his neighborhood, "You need to be familiar with the zodiac cycle."
Quinn groaned dramatically. "You're no fun, St. James."
"I'm helping you on your greatest mission," Jesse smirked, "And I'm doing it for free no less."
"You'd be a real asshole to charge me."
"I don't see why. I'm giving you valuable lessons and even picking you up after school, and all you do is act reluctant to be seen with me."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Like I've said plenty of times already, you're doing this for yourself just as much as for me."
"Hardly. Even if we do wipe Shelby's memory of Beth's very existence, how do I know she'll want me to be her legacy? She didn't before."
"And what is it with this legacy stuff?" asked Quinn, "Why is she so eager for her name to live on?"
Jesse smirked. "Every sacred coven leader has a successor. A protege, if you will. I was so sure Shelby would pick me, but she wanted a child. I should have never told her you were pregnant."
Quinn gaped at the boy. "You told her about Beth? So you actually got us into this mess?"
Jesse frowned. "You should be thankful. If Shelby hadn't adopted Beth, it'd be some nameless couple that you'd never be able to find, and then Beth would be lost to you forever."
Quinn glared at him as he pulled up in his driveway. "I guess you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Jesse smirked, "Now, I'll make us some coffee while I find my astrology calendar."
xxx
"Buffy, slow down!"
Buffy smirked to herself, storming through the Lima Cemetery in the middle of the day, with Mr. Schuester struggling to keep up behind her on his sneakers.
"Gotta keep up, Will," she said, not slowing her pace, "We got work to do. Get with the programme."
Will frowned. "Buffy, you're being immature."
"Guess what? I am immature. I'm a teenager!"
"I was just trying to give you some constructive criticism, Buffy."
"No, you weren't. You were way harsh. Like I don't know how to be a slayer or something? I'm the best there is! ...And the worst there is. I'm the only! So I'm sorry you didn't get someone better."
"Buffy, don't be like that."
"You act like I'm the one who picked this gig, but I'm the picked."
"Being a slayer is more than a gig," Will strode behind her, following her to the mausoleum, "It's a sacred duty. Which shouldn't prevent you from pursuing a career. I have one."
Buffy sighed. "Will, it's one thing to be a watcher and a teacher. They go together, like chicken and... another chicken... You know what I mean. The point is, no one blinks an eye if you want to spend all your days with books. What am I supposed to do? Carve stakes for a nursery?"
"Point taken. I guess I never really... Well, here's an idea. Have you ever considered law enforcement?"
Buffy stopped in her tracks and glared at her watcher.
"What?" asked Mr. Schuester.
Buffy sighed and nodded to the mausoleum a few feet away from them. She opened the door and they let themselves into the dark, musty smelling tomb, the neglected place riddled with cobwebs. Will removed a thin, black flashlight from inside his coat pocket and shined it at the wall, seeing that a seal of one of the tombs was broken. There was a wide hole in the wall, and Buffy and Will peered inside.
"Looks like... religious items," Will said uncertainly. He looked up and spotted the marble slab above the tomb. Du Lac.
"Who's Du Lac?" asked Buffy.
"The guy who was buried here," said Will, "I've heard of him. He was excommunicated from the Vatican church over a hundred years ago... Do you remember the book that was stolen from my office by a vampire a few weeks ago?"
"Yeah."
"It was written by Du Lac. It was supposed to have spells and rituals in it that were used for evil, but it was written in archaic Latin, so no-one could understand it."
"So it doesn't really matter, then?"
"I think it does. First the Du Lac book taken from my office, and now someone stole something from Du Lac's tomb... That can't just be a coincidence. Something's coming, Buffy. And I can tell you it's not gonna be good."
xxx
"So is Mr. Schuester sure that the vampire who stole the book is connected to the one you slayed last night?" Tina asked the next day.
"You always ask the smart questions," said Mike, and planted a kiss on his girlfriend's head.
Rachel's bitter eye roll was not lost on Buffy. The four of them spent their lunch hour lounging in the choir room, as always, centred around the grand piano. Brad had given Buffy the evil eye once or twice for getting sticky sushi stuck between his keys.
"Slayed? Slew?" Sam asked himself as he walked into the choir room to join the others, bringing in a cafeteria tray stacked with tater tots.
"Both are right," Tina grinned at him as he pulled up a chair to the piano.
"And yes, I'm sure," said Mr. Schuester, strolling in with his laptop in his arms, "And Brad's gonna be annoyed if he sees you using his piano as a picnic table."
"Brad's a man of few words," said Mike, "I have a feeling he'll suffer in silence."
"This website says he invented something called the Du Lac cross," said Mr. Schuester.
"Brad did?" Buffy furrowed her brow.
"No," Will rolled his eyes, "Du Lac."
"Lame name for an invention," Sam frowned, "What about the Cross-o-matic, or the Crossinator?"
"I've heard of that," said Tina, "The cross was used to understand mystical texts."
"So the vamps went to all this hassle for a decoder ring?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I guess so," shrugged Will.
"Du Lac destroyed them all, except for the one buried with him," said Tina.
"What was the point of that?" asked Rachel.
"He was probably afraid of what might happen if it fell into the wrong hands," Sam frowned.
"Exactly," sighed Tina, "Something we'll probably experience for ourselves if these vampires get what they want."
"Oh my God," Buffy suddenly gasped to herself, "I totally forgot to tell you guys. I talked to Angel-"
"Soulful Undead 2.0?" said Sam.
"The handsome stranger?" Tina nodded, her eyes widening.
"Handsome?" Mike wrinkled his nose.
"What did he say, Buffy?" Will leaned in.
"He said Spike and Drusilla were up to something. Drusilla is sick with some disease she got in Prague. Do you think they're trying to use this Cross-o-matic to find a cure for her?" Buffy questioned.
Will bit his bottom lip. "That sounds very likely. If we want to stop them, we'll have to figure it out before they do. Beat them to the punch. Do you guys mind staying late tonight?"
Tina smiled with excitement. "Research party!" she cheered.
…
The sun had set and Lima was painted a royal blue as night approached. Buffy knew it would only be a couple more hours before her mother would get suspicious that she was actually at a study group. Even though she was. Still, Buffy was more or less just there for moral support when it came to research. The rest of them were the brains. Will was her watcher, and Tina, Mike and Rachel were known for their straight As, and even sweet, goofy Sam had extensive knowledge about science fiction, which came in handy more than they had anticipated.
Even though Buffy was the slayer and had the biggest responsibility to know about the world of the oogly boogly, she couldn't help that she was just more interested in kicking ass than learning what kind of desert dwelling demon ass it was that she was kicking. She tended to wish that she was more academically inclined, but she just wasn't. Maybe that's why she was destined for law enforcement... She could see herself now in polyester navy, working as a mall cop. She shuddered to herself as she walked around the corner to find the nearest convenience store.
Since her skills in research and critical thinking were seriously lacking, her main role in the late night study party was to go fetch the snacks. At least she could hold on to the mental note of what everyone wanted. Sam wanted an extra large bag of candied pretzels and a Twinkie, Tina wanted Raisinets, Rachel wanted a Vitamin Water and a... and a... Damn it, Buffy, she scolded herself as she entered the 7-Eleven, You can't even remember a food order? How did you ever get that summer job as a waitress?!
She took out her phone and begrudgingly texted Tina, asking her to remind her what everyone wanted. She sulked through a small candy aisle as she waited for her friend to text back, when a large, dark shadow fell over her. She looked up and was surprised to the handsome stra-... Angel.
"Hi, Angel," she said. It was strange to see his broad, dark figure in the middle of a 7-Eleven. "What are you doing here?"
Angel looked awkwardly out of place as he lifted his hands, showing her that she was holding a bright yellow box of Tio Pepe's Churros and a bag of Sour Patch Kids.
"I'm taking Santana out tonight," he explained, "Like you said. She made me pick up snacks."
Buffy raised an eyebrow, amused. "I didn't know vampires ate."
"We don't need to, but we can," said Angel, "Santana says churros remind her of her grandma."
"So I take it the Sour Patch Kids are for you?"
Angel looked down at the candy, clenching his jaw as if he were embarrassed. It was kind of adorable for Buffy to see a guy so stoic and mysterious enjoying some fruity sweets, and Angel probably sensed that.
"What are you here for?"
"Oh," said Buffy, feeling her phone buzz, "The gang and I are studying late tonight so I'm going on a junk food run."
She looked down at the text containing the list of items her friends wanted, and began to gather them in a basket with Angel standing awkwardly nearby.
"What are you researching?" he asked.
"We think Spike and Drusilla might be closer to finding that cure," said Buffy, "We just need to figure out what they're going to do before they do it, so we can stop them. I hate to think what they'd have planned for when Drusilla's back to her full strength."
Angel nodded, his forehead creased. "I would, too. I wish I could help-"
"No, go be with Santana. Where are you taking her?"
"Ice skating," Angel shrugged, "I couldn't think of anywhere else... She used to likes cheerleading, so I thought she'd like something active."
Buffy side-eyed Angel with a smirk as the lethargic cashier rung up her items. "I don't get it," she thought aloud.
"Pardon?"
"Usually when people meet Santana, it takes her awhile to warm up to them and vice versa. And she's no stranger to pushing people away, including me, but somehow, you show up and it's like you're instantly her best friend. She tells you everything, past and present. She doesn't guard herself with you. What's up with that?"
Buffy bagged her items as Angel paid for his, and the both of them strolled out of the store while he sighed thoughtfully.
"Like I said, complex bond."
"Still," Buffy wrinkled her brow.
"When I'd heard from my sources that there was another vampire out there that was like me, it was my mission to find her. We're not common, Buffy. In fact, we're traditionally unheard of. I knew that if there was someone out there who had any idea what it was like to walk with the dead but not really belong... I had to know her."
Buffy stared up at him, enthralled. "Is she what you expected?"
Angel smirked. "Not at all. Mostly, I expected her to be older. A lot older. She's only seventeen. A child."
Buffy frowned. "I'm almost seventeen."
"Right," Angel's eyes wandered away, distracted, "She's a lot like me in some respects."
"Is that so?"
"We're solitary people. Probably because of who we are, we know we'll never fit in with anyone else. Vampires, humans, demons... We're too different. She doesn't know half as much about me as I know about her, but she trusts me, because she doesn't have a lot of other options."
Buffy looked sympathetic. "It's more than that. You're good to her. Not just because you're another soulful undead, but because you're a decent guy."
Angel sighed, looking far away. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge."
"What do you-?"
"Buffy, watch out!"
Before Buffy could make her next move, a thick, rock solid arm came over her head and squeezed around her neck, lifting her several feet above the ground. She was lifted up, twirled around and slammed onto the ground, unable to breathe as all the air was knocked out of her body. She looked up at her attacker with wide eyes and was bewildered by the face that looked back at her, curtained by long, stringy hair. One of his eyes was cloudy white and the other was a dark red and full of mindless rage.
Angel knocked him back, swinging an impressive punch at the bulky vampire's scarred face. The vampire stumbled back a little before sending a winding punch into Angel's abs. Angel didn't give up easy. The merciless jabs went on until the vampire gripped Angel by the neck.
Buffy sucked in breath, leapt off of the ground and hit the vampire over the head with her hefty bag of junk food. He turned back to her, bewildered, and when he lunged forward, Buffy jumped high and drove her stake right into his neck. She knew she was a mile away from her target point, but somehow, a broken neck did the job. The vamp slumped forward and onto the ground, but he didn't burst into dust.
"He wasn't a vampire," Buffy said, her brow creasing.
Angel frowned, rubbing his neck. "He definitely wasn't human."
Buffy rolled her neck. "Why didn't I think to stretch before I left? Danger lurks even at the 7-Eleven when you're a slayer," she grumbled, "And I'm sure this wasn't the evening you were hoping for."
Angel leaned down and inspected the attacker, trailing his finger over the man's hand and spotting a small golden ring with a logo printed on it.
"You're in danger," he said gravely, "Do you know what this ring means?"
"I just killed a Superbowl champ?"
"This is serious, Buffy. You should go home and wait until you hear from me."
Buffy furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about? You weren't sent here to be my protector. Last time I checked, I was the one who did the protecting."
"Well, now, you need protection," said Angel, starting to get irritable, "Trust me, please. You need to be somewhere safe."
Buffy frowned reluctantly. She hated to admit it, but Angel was the kind of guy who inspired trust.
"Let me take the ring back to my watcher," said Buffy.
Angel nodded reluctantly. "Go on. I'll go find Santana."
…
"The slayer's passing under our feet. Right now."
Drusilla turned over one of her tarot cards on the duvet she was laying under. The three eyed sphinx. It wouldn't be needed anymore.
"No worries," Spike said lightly, leaning beside her on the bed in their lair, "The manuscript is almost decoded. We just need a bit more time."
Drusilla sighed wearily. "Time is ours. It brings the slayer closer to them."
…
Will held the attacker's ring flat on his palm, with Tina and the others staring at it from over his shoulder.
"This guy was hardcore, Will," said Buffy, sitting on a plastic choir room chair turned backwards.
Sam sighed and walked over to Buffy. "I'm just glad you're okay," he said, leaning down to peck her cheek.
"I'm fine," Buffy shrugged, "But Angel was majorly freaked by that ring."
"He wasn't overreacting," Will raised an eyebrow at the ring and clenched his jaw, "This ring is only worn by members of the Order of Taraka. It's a society of assassins."
"Why are these assassins after me?" asked Buffy.
"Could be 'cause you're the scurge of the underworld," Mike shrugged his shoulders.
"I haven't been that scurgey lately," said Buffy.
"We need to find you somewhere to stay," said Will, "Until we can figure out what to do about this."
Buffy frowned. "Can I not handle this? I mean, I am the slayer. Both you and Angel have now told me to head for the hills, but I think I'm strong enough to handle these goons."
"They're not goons, Buffy," Will said seriously, "They're not like anything else we've fought. They have one desire, only one, and that's to kill their target. And sure, you can slay one, but another will come in its place, and they'll keep coming and coming until the job is done. Each of them work alone. In their own way. Some are human. Some... aren't. We won't know who they are, until they attack."
The others grimaced, looking grave.
"You can stay with me, Buffy," said Rachel, "Just tell your mom you're sleeping over. My dads won't mind."
Buffy nodded absentmindedly. "Fine," she said, feeling afraid and defeated.
…
Santana crossed her arms and clenched her jaw outside the seasonal ice rink outside of the Lima city centre. She grumbled unintelligibly to herself as she walked away, convinced that Angel wasn't turning up. Although she was annoyed, she couldn't help but be worried about him. Nobody - nobody - stood up Santana Lopez unless they were grave danger, because if they weren't already, they were about to be. She found her way to Angel's dingy basement apartment downtown and rapped her knuckles hard against the door.
"Angel?" she called, but there was no answer.
She was surprised to find the door unlocked, but she let herself in and looked around. It was a dark and windowless space, just like a vampire would like it, with a bed that didn't look terribly comfortable and a surprising number of art lining the walls. There were stacks of books on the floor and coffee table, because of course Angel spent his time reading rather than boozing it up like Santana did.
Santana sighed to herself. He definitely wasn't here, and now she was getting worried. She went over to his bed and clutched a handful of his duvet. She already had his scent locked into her memory. Musky and... dusty. She let go of the blanket and turned around just to find herself with a faceful of fist.
Santana reeled back from the unexpected punch, laying flat on Angel's bed. She looked up, alarmed, and looming in front of her was a tiny Asian girl with a pair of chunky red Ray Bans on her face, her dark hair up in chipper pigtails, holding a sharpened stake in front of her. Santana kicked at the girl and sent her reeling back before she had a chance to give Santana so much as a splinter. Santana stood up almost as fast as the tiny girl did. The girl lunged forward, swinging her stake, but Santana caught her thin arms in her hands.
Her breath was taken away as the smaller girl pulled her grip forward, swinging Santana around and pinning her down on the ground. Santana didn't have time to wrap her head around why such a tiny girl had so much strength. The girl was straddling Santana, her stake pointed at the girl's heart, with Santana hands over her wrists, trying to keep the stake as far away as possible.
"C'mon," Santana grunted, "Don't make me go all Lima Heights."
The smaller girl furrowed her brow. "Lima Heights?" she asked, with a slight accent that Santana couldn't place.
Santana reached one arm forward and pulled one of the girl's pigtails as hard as inhumanly possible. The girl shrieked and Santana kicked her off, kicking her stake out of her dainty hands. The girl leapt up, without a weapon and gripped Santana's shoulders, throwing her forward onto Angel's coffee table, which gave way under her force. Santana groaned, but she got back up as quick as she could to kick the little bitch square in the chest. The girl just got back up, fists clenched.
"Damn, hobbit, you do not give up," Santana snarled.
"No. I don't," the girl said defiantly, although the effect didn't quite make it. She was too small and girlish to be intimidating, and Santana couldn't help but notice she was wearing a Hello Kitty watch. Gag me. "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" Santana glared, "I'm Santana fucking Lopez. Who the fuck are you?"
The girl smirked slightly. "I'm Sunshine," she said, "The vampire slayer."
a/n: Sunshine the Vampire Slayer. At least it follows the theme of slayers being tiny and having funny names. Let me know what you all think. Faberry or St. Fabray? Your two cents is highly encouraged.