"He said what?" her father asked again, peering at her curiously. Beth sighed, looking over at her Watcher. He was currently sitting on the other side of the dining table, very engrossed in another book. She couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like a Watcher's Diary, judging from the slant of the words.

"Master," she reiterated. "Andrew thinks it means there's some big honcho moving into town."

"Again," he said, still not looking up from his text.

"But Bellevue doesn't have a proper Master—or Seattle for that matter," Buffy argued, looking confused. "That was the first thing we noticed when we came here, right Spike?"

He nodded in agreement. "Unless you want to call the mess that is McGregor a Master; he an' Xavier had been fightin' for the area for decades."

"And also Balt," she added.

He snorted. "Not fair to the other two to include Balt."

"There was a Master who ruled over Bellevue's vampire population and the smaller clans fell under his reign," Andrew explained, waving a diary around. "It's mentioned by a Watcher here who once had a slayer in Seattle for six months."

"Wow, six whole months?" Buffy repeated sarcastically. "What killed her?"

He swallowed. "One of the vampires below the Master."

"So he's a problem," Beth stated.

Andrew made an odd, chuckling sound. "Not exactly. The Master killed the vampire that killed the slayer."

"An' why in the bloody hell would he do that?" Spike questioned.

He shrugged helplessly. "By all accounts, the Master that used to rule over Bellevue was considerably—what's the right word?—peaceful. He wasn't spreading widespread chaos and he kept the other clans in line. Most of the information we have on him isn't even from the Watcher's collection; it comes from the head of the Kalder family."

"He's a vampire, Andrew," Buffy said flatly. "They don't know the meaning of the word peaceful. And since when do you speak to Mr. High and Mighty Kalder?"

"By vampire standards," he stressed. "And why wouldn't I? As a magic practioner and a long-time resident, he's got a good handle on the mystical going-ons of this town. I've got a slayer to look after, and I thought it would be best to have an in."

"What does the Head Kalder say?" Spike asked, rolling his eyes.

"He said they were on unofficial terms not to kill one another," he told him. "The Master kept his boys in line and in return, the Kalders wouldn't go after his nest. Before you guys came, they were the first line of defense against demons. Mr. Kalder said the Master moved in when he was a child, and after that, vampire disruptions actually dropped. Seems they weren't just picking people up off the streets for fun anymore."

"So he likes to keep a low-profile," Buffy surmised. "Well, how come I haven't heard of him until now?"

"They said he left a couple of decades ago," he told her. "I don't think he was here even around the time you first got called."

"But he's back then? Or at least that one vampire thought he was," Beth decided. "He seemed to think taking me out would make his Master very proud."

"Who's to say?" he offered with a shrug and an awkward smile. "The Master wasn't claiming any well-known bloodlines and he disappeared without much of a trace too. Mr. Kalder thought he probably got killed. The power vacuum that was left in his wake is still going on today. McGregor and Xavier can't work out who should take charge."

"You mean fight out," Beth corrected.

"So the old Master was a 'benevolent' vampire who may or may not be dead," Buffy clarified, looking annoyed. "Whoever he is, he's still a vampire and I still kill vampires."

"How do we even know what he says is true?" Beth asked. "Maybe McGregor's got a real fan boy type."

"We can't just blow it off," Buffy decided. "Somebody's coming."

"If it's that old master, I think I'd prefer him," Spike decided.

"Vampire, Spike. We kill those?" his wife reminded him. "Beth, do me a favor and whack him."

"Wha—No!" he yelled when Beth actually raised her hand to do the deed.

"What? Mum said to," she replied. Her father's arm shot out to grab her wrist, impeding any attack. She frowned, taking back her arm and slouching down in her seat.

"I say that because he caused a lot less trouble than these blokes are now," he explained, still keeping an eye on Beth in case she went for a sneak attack. "If he comes back an' shuts 'em up a bit, 'm not goin' to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Spike does have a point," Andrew agreed, although reluctantly. "I can speak with Mr. Kalder again. He might know if the old Master is coming back. I'm sure he'd want to strike up a deal with him again."

"I don't care what kind of deal that crotchety old man makes with a vampire, I'm the slayer. He's not safe from me," Buffy proclaimed.

"An' if his arrival means we have less trouble from the others?" Spike asked, eyebrows raised.

"It would be nice to get those red-headed vampires to shut up," Beth thought aloud. "How did McGregor even find so many red-heads to begin with?"

"It could serve to our current advantage," Andrew agreed, "and give us a chance to learn more about this Master. He's certainly not in our record-keeping books."

"But I don't like it," Buffy grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning, looking nearly identical to her daughter, enough to make Spike's lip quirk just the slightest. Like mother like daughter it would seem. Boy, did he feel sorry for whatever sorry bloke married h—Spike stopped that train of thought, a scowl falling over his features.

"What? What's so wrong about me not liking having a vampire who kills people live?" Buffy demanded to know when she saw Spike's face.

"Not that, 'Nother thing. Unrelated thing," he brushed off. "Look, it's your job to minimize casualties, innit?"

"It's my job to save lives," she retorted waspishly.

He waved his hand through the air. "Same thing. Look, I'd rather have one more vampire an' less deaths than the same vamps we have now with all our woodland disappearances—which, I remind you, have not ended because Xavier moved. Again."

She huffed, hating that he had a point. "Does this mean I'm going to have to strike a deal with a murderous vampire?"

"S'not like it's your first time," he muttered.

"That was different. That was huge, world save-age," she reminded him hotly. "And the agreement didn't include you killing people."

"It did if you count the people he killed between that and when he got chipped," Andrew reminded her and she shot him a dirty look.

"Hey, I think we can all agree vampires kind of suck," Beth said and the paused briefly to consider her words. "Pun definitely intended. But we also can agree that less deaths are also pretty rad. It's the moral dilemma. We can't have zero deaths so why not have the least amount possible? It's not like we're going to stop killing vampires. We're just not going to kill that one in particular."

"But what if he's not as peaceful?" Buffy inquired.

"We'll worry 'bout that later," Spike decided. "We don't even know if it is the bloke."

"Yeah, for all we know, that vamp was blowing smoke out of his ahhhh—I mean arse?" she cringed, looking toward her mother, who was regarding her with judging eyes.

"Means the same thing, only British," Spike sighed.

"Elizabeth Joyce Summers, watch your language!" her mother scolded.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered at her father. When he only raised his eyebrows, she reached out and smacked him.

"Wha'?" he sputtered, looking absolutely bewildered that she hit him.

"That was for what Mum wanted earlier," she explained. "I just waited until you didn't see it coming."

"Are we goin' to let her get away with that?" he asked, turning toward Buffy.

"I did ask her to," she replied with a shrug.

"And with that, I say we wrap up the research and hope everything goes well," Andrew decided, shutting his book with a heavy thud. "I'll just take all these," he said, standing up and piling all the books into his arms, "and return home. Spike, you wanted to cover Beth's training this weekend?"

"I did," he returned.

"Good. Then goodbye!" He departed, making his way toward the front door. It closed with a resounding slam, as the rest of the group looked around at one another.

"I can't believe he pulled us all together just for that," Buffy grumbled. "He didn't even know the name of the vampire claiming to be the Master."

"S'not like he was always good at this to begin with," Spike reminded her.

"Think we can return him?" she wondered aloud.

"Not if you want to make an exchange," Beth told her. "You already know he was the only volunteer. He might have done so jumping up and down, waving his arms and shouting, 'me me me!,' but he's still the only one."

Buffy frowned. "So we are stuck with him."

"It'll be alright," she said, standing up. "I have you two to fill in all the gaps, no matter how numerous or wide. And now if you'll excuse me, I didn't shower at all and I'm pretty sure I'm covered in dead vampire."

Buffy made a slight face, waving her daughter off. Did she really have to say it like that?

-.-

Beth waved the flashlight around, watching as the light bounced off the tree leaves and branches.

"Will you quit that?" Spike asked her for likely the fifth time.

"What?" she replied. "You said the monstrosity was blind."

"Yeah, but not everythin' else," he reminded her, reaching out to still her movements. They were currently trekking through the forest at night, not far off from the cave Baba had lured Beth to all those months ago. Apparently, some sort of furry yak thing had been running amuck through local neighborhood areas, causing property damage and eating unsuspecting family pets. After about the third Mr. Fluffypants, somebody had put forth a complaint, demanding that the slayer do something about it before Spots got it. Unfortunately, with Buffy all tied up trying to smoke Xavier out of whatever hidey-hole he had deemed appropriate for him and his little bloodsucking minions, other such tasks were left to the other professionals. Which meant tracking some sort of wildebeest through the Three Forks Natural Area.

"You know, I think they filmed a TV show over here," Beth stated, moving her flashlight again. "So, how big is this thing?"

"Accounts vary," her father replied, professional talk for "No fucking clue. Big, probably."

"And how do I know when I find it and not, say, a hairy pig?" she inquired. "For all we know, it is a hairy pig."

"S'not a hairy pig," he told her. "If you came with me to see the hole in the fence, you would know that."

"Yeah, but Nadja wanted to go to the mall," she reminded him. "And who'd want to waste their Saturday looking at someone's busted fence? Even now, I could be at the movies instead of hiking through the forest."

"An' I thought you were tickled to be a slayer," he muttered.

"Oh, I was, until I realized that work involved less of the kicky-kicky-punchy-punchy and more of everything else," she told him. "Books are boring, especially the ones written in Aramaic. Those guys go on forever."

He shook his head, wondering how he raised such a lazy daughter. But then he remembered his own short-attention span and Buffy's blasé attitude toward research and it all made a lot of sense.

He pushed aside a bush and Beth's flashlight flicked over the ground, something grabbing his attention for the brief second it was illuminated.

"Wait," he told her, grabbing her flashlight arm and directing it towards the spot again. "You see that?"

She looked down at the big hoof print in the muddy spot. "You know, I could have moved my arm on my own." She bent down to get a better look at the print. It was pretty sizeable and it's not like she knew of any moose in the area. Unless she was just uninformed. "You think this is it?"

"I'd bet money on it, if that tells you anything," he responded. Beth thought about that for a moment, wondering what was her father's propensity toward gambling. It was one of the reasons she wasn't allowed to have a pet cat when she was younger, much to her confusion (exactly how do those two things relate? Sometimes she was pretty sure her parents spoke in code).

"So are there more?" she asked, flashing her light farther down, trying to see any more tracks. It was all grass though, not best for impressions like those left in mud.

"It's at least going that way," he said, surging forward, now that they had something to work off of. She huffed, picking up her pace to follow after him. Well, if this ended sooner, maybe she'd still have time to catch the midnight showing if Nadja was still up for it. She may have school tomorrow, but hadn't slayers stayed up until the late hours of the night, killing demons and then going to school the next morning? Who needed eight hours of sleep? Pssh, not her, that's for sure. Besides, it was that new action film Beth wanted to see. Exceptions could be made.

"Hear anything?" he asked her and she sighed. She morphed into gameface, stopping to keep the sound of her father's increased heartbeat from overbearing her sense. Much like any vampire, that sound seemed to be the one thing her ears were inclined to hear and it was very distracting if she was trying to hear for something else, say, the mouse that was in the kitchen while her mother was up on the counter, freaking out about it, heart pounding.

"Anything?" he asked again and she shushed him. She could hear the wind rustling through the leaves and far off, the sound of a car driving, but not much else. She just about gave up when she heard a branch snap to her left, and she heard the sound of another heartbeat, beating out a rhythm with her father's. She dropped out of gameface and turned around quickly, just in time to see a boy come out from between two trees, shotgun in hand.

She stared at him, perturbed. He was dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, along with a sturdy looking pair of hiking boots. And judging by his expression, he was just as surprised to see them.

"What are you doin' out here?" Spike asked cautiously, eyeing the gun. Beth wasn't concerned though, as he didn't look older than her and hardly any stronger. She could take him out pretty quickly.

"Hunting," he replied, holding up the gun.

Spike regarded him skeptically. "This late at night?"

The boy shrugged. "I was told this was the best time," he responded.

"What are you hunting for?" Beth asked. He looked too skinny to drag home a buck.

"I don't know, really," he told her, "I was told it was big and hairy."

"You're hunting for the demon," she realized.

He nodded. "I think he took Alan, my dog," he explained. "He lives with my dad and when I came over this weekend, the dog wasn't there. I heard about the demon rampaging through the area so I put two and two together and came out here."

"Armed with a gun?" Spike asked, though he started to sound a little amused.

"My name's Daniel, by the way," he introduced, walking over and holding out his hand. Spike smiled, reaching out to take it. "I'm guessing you're the slayer, though I would have thought you older. No offense intended of course. I was just told she was an older woman."

"Beth. I'm her daughter actually," she explained. "The official slayer's my mother. I mean, I'm a slayer too, but I'm technically still in training."

"An' 'm Spike, husband to slayer an' father of this one," he said, pointing toward Beth.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet the both of you. I had heard rumors of a younger slayer, but I had thought them false, considering I had the knowledge that all slayers went to be trained at the academy," Daniel said. "Though, it would appear I had been incorrect to assume. You are going after the same demon, I presume?"

Spike nodded. "Yep. Got asked to come out an' deal with it." He looked over Daniel carefully, eyeing in briefly. ""Magine you're goin' to stay out here even if I told you to beat it, so you might as well go with us."

"Really?" Daniel asked, looking elated. "I would very much like to. Both of you are demon hunting? I thought only slayers did that."

"Oh, that's rubbish," Spike responded. "'M what they call a 'demon hunter.' With the right training, any bloke can do it." Daniel actually seemed to be considering what Spike said, and Beth wondered if he was ever going to add his strength of supernatural origins or just let the kid go on thinking anyone who wanted to throw a boulder could if they really put their mind to it!

"How long did you train?" Daniel asked.

"Long time," was Spike's short response and Daniel titled his head, looking very deep in thought.

"Yes, I would think so," he finally agreed. "Do you have any idea where the creature went?"

"We're following the direction of a tracks we found that we think is the demon's," Beth explained to him, even though he looked toward Spike for the answer. She suppressed a smile of humor when she saw the almost reverent look on Daniel's face. It seemed her father had found himself a fan of his work.

"Do you normally work with a slayer?" Daniel inquired of Spike.

"Usually, yeah," he replied. "Sometimes do m'own work. Can handle myself."

Daniel was kept from asking any further questions when a loud huffing sound caught their attention. It was coming through the foliage and Spike made a signal to be quiet, not like Beth didn't already know that or anything. She rolled her eyes at him, coming up slowly to peer through the branches to see what was making that noise.

In a clearing, there was a rather large sized animal, that yes, did sort of look like a yak. A harrier, more demented yak with large, curving horns and a set of not-so-much-fun teeth. And caught it its abnormally large jaw (considering the size of its head, that is) was a spiked red collar. And if Beth's eyesight was good (and it was), the collar had a nametag reading Alan.

"Well, I think we found what got your dog," she muttered, looking over at Daniel. He had a sort of determined look in his eyes, no doubt what she used to look like before she had slayer powers and wanted to go and fight things.

"Should I shoot it?" he asked, holding up the gun.

"Best not," Spike replied. "If you don't kill it, you'll anger it, an' then we got a rampaging beast on our hands."

"Not a pleasant thing," Beth added, taking her crossbow from her back. "But I don't think this'll do much more damage either. That thing is a lot bigger than you led me to believe."

"I said it was massive, didn' I?" he asked.

"That thing could be its own continent if it so desired," she retorted. "I don't have that many bolts!"

"Eh, we can take it," he assured. He too got that determined look in his eyes, but this was a different type of determined. The kind that would make Buffy, if she were here, shake her head and groan, "Oh my god." Beth was not nearly as agreeable when it came to stupid ideas though.

"Don't do it," she warned him, knowing he was going to show-off for his newly acquired fan. If any of the slayers back at the academy had fawned over him, it was because he gave his life for "love," they said, sighing in that dreamy way (and Andrew didn't count, because he was somewhat creepy, and also just loved Spike in general, and not just because he could kick things really hard). This was his chance to be admired for looking cool (and hopefully not dying while doing it).

"That thing is like thirty of you," she added as he took off his duster and handed it to her.

"Got an' axe," he reminded her, holding up the weapon. "So it doesn't matter."

"Are you going to take it head on?" Daniel asked, sounding awed. Beth glared at him, the don't encourage him! Shout implied.

"This is really dumb," she told him, but her father was undeterred. He jumped through the bushes, immediately setting on the beast. It was taken aback by his sudden appearance, suggesting that it hadn't heard their little conversation only five feet away. And its vision really was terrible, as it shook its head all around trying to find out exactly from where the attack was coming from. It let out an ear-splitting roar, letting them all know exactly how it thought about Spike's incessant cuts as he slashed and dodged the beast's deadly-looking horns.

"If you come home with a hole through your stomach, Mum's going to kill you!" Beth shouted. If he heard her, he didn't say anything.

She sighed, loading the cross bow and lining up her shot. Well, if he was going to do something stupid to impress someone, she might as well help him. She aimed for the eye, not seeing any weak points through the massive, shaggy hair draped all along its body and dragging over the leafy ground. The shot rang true and the creature let out another roar, forgetting Spike and charging in her direction.

She pushed Daniel to the side, jumping out of the way herself as the beast crashed through the bushes, head swinging back and forth, trying to get as much hitting range with its horns as possible. Spike came up behind it, swinging his axe and lodging it into the creature's back. The blade came back bloody and the beast roared again, sounding more pained than angry this time.

She quickly stood up, lining up another shot and buried the bolt in the lower side of the beast, in hopes she'd get a soft underbelly. Her father came in again, hacking at the creature's back at it tried to shake him off. He remained firm in his hold though, swinging the axe over and over until his arms, up to his elbows, was covered in blood.

The beast let out one weak roar before stumbling and falling to the ground on its side. Spike quickly delivered a blow to its stomach, creating a stream of blood that saturated the dirt beneath it. Beth made a face at the smell, but didn't say anything. Sometimes slaying was a messy job.

"Got it, didn' I?" he said with a grin, looking absolutely horrible covered in blood. Not that everyone saw it that way. Daniel looked beyond amazed at Spike, his mouth open is appraised shock.

"You took it down by yourself," he murmured and Beth scowled. She helped.

"It shouldn't be botherin' you no mo', but sorry 'bout your pet," Spike said, getting the collar from the beast's large mouth.

Daniel took it, looking at it mournfully before shoving the collar into the pocket of his hoodie. "At least he's been avenged," he decided.

"May Alan rest in peace," Beth said, looking over the big yak-thing. "So, what is it exactly?"

Spike scratched the back of his head, giving his white blonde hair a bit of a pink tinge. "Don't know," he replied.

"Looks like a yak," Daniel noted.

"Yeah, so says popular opinion," she muttered. "Can we go home now? I want to catch the late showing with Nadja."

Spike narrowed his eyes at the request. "'S too late for you to be stayin' out. Got school tomorrow."

"But slayers normally stay out late anyway," she reminded him.

"To kill demons," he added. "Shower then bed for you, missy."

She scowled, kicking the demon's leg like a petulant child. He only rolled his eyes at her antics, not feeling like giving in when he was covered in sticky, gross demon blood. And he'd have to get it in his car.

"Need a ride home?" Spike asked the boy.

Daniel shook his head. "No, I drove here on my own. I can take care of myself for the rest of the night. But thank you for your help, Spike. And you as well, Beth. I hope we can meet again, but under better circumstances."

She looked down at the carcass they were standing beside, her shoes coated with the blood still dripping out of its stomach. "Not likely, but we can all hope."

Daniel smiled, finally departing through the trees. Beth watched him go until she couldn't even make out his white shoes.

"What a strange kid," Beth mused.

"Seems alright to me," Spike disagreed.

She rolled her eyes. "Would that be because you're such a good judge of character or because he couldn't pick his lower jaw off the ground when you were fighting this thing?"

"If a bloke works hard, he deserves a little praise," he responded, ushering her back towards the way of their car. "Now, it's time for all good little girls to be back home, tucked away in their beddie-byes."

"I'm not six, you know," she reminded him.

"No, you're not because you don't have permission to be older than four," he told her with a grin.

"I can't always be 'your little girl'."

"'M sure there's a spell out there or somethin'."

"Oh, so you can use magic but I can't?" she mumbled, arms crossed. He reached out and tussled her hair, forcing her to act quick on her feet to dodge the oncoming attack. He only looked amused at her actions, smiling as she ran her fingers through her hair to undo any damage he may have caused.

"Need I remind you I'm sixteen now?" she told him sternly, walking backward to face him. "I'm a young lady."

He regarded her with a skeptical look. "Now even I know you don't believe that."

"Okay, maybe not a lady," she agreed, "but a young woman then. What I'm trying to say is that I'm grown up now. Independent young adult."

He chose not to dignify that with a response, instead turning off towards the car. "C'mon then, young adult. We're goin' home."

-.-

Beth picked at her turkey sandwich as Nadja droned on about some new knitting project she was beginning. Beth half-listened to what her friend was saying, more occupied with her sandwich (which she was pretty sure was spoiled, as turkey was not supposed to be that color). Nadja must have finally noticed her friend's lack of attention, or, more so, her rapt attention on the sandwich.

"Is it supposed to do something?" Nadja finally asked. "Like a trick?"

"What?" she asked when she realized Nadja had stopped her story and had directed a question at her.

"The sandwich, since you seem to think it's more engaging than me," Nadja responded.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized, sitting up from the table and pushing her gross sandwich away. "I think it was infected with germs."

Nadja only sighed. A shadow fell over their table, distinctly human shaped and Nadja looked up to see a boy standing at the end of the bench. Judging from his clothes, he was an attendee of the boy's school only a short walk from where they were eating. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed how he was looking expectantly at Beth.

"Can we help you?" Nadja asked, ready to use all five feet of her height to scare off this strange suitor.

"Daniel," Beth stated (as soon as she remembered his name). "I didn't know you went to St. Jude's."

He nodded. "I do. May I take a seat?" She nodded and he sat down across from her, beside Nadja, who was still eyeing him suspiciously. Even more so, since Beth knew his name and Nadja knew just about everyone who knew Beth in town. And she did not know this guy.

"I would like to properly introduce myself," he stated, stretching a hand out across the table. Beth paused for a moment, before realizing she was supposed to shake it. "My name is Daniel Shao. I am a Junior at St. Jude's. Since the rumors of your existence were true, I assumed that meant you attendance here as well was too."

"You're right," she agreed awkwardly, as confused about this whole interaction as Nadja was. Nadja shot her a befuddled look, who could only respond with a helpless shrug.

"This is likely a bit forward of me, and I do apologize," he said, though he didn't sound all that apologetic, "but I've come to you to ask a favor."

"A demon-y favor?" she inquired, eyeing him. Did another one of his dogs get eaten?

"Somewhat," he responded. "As I am sure you are well aware of, Seattle and the surrounding area is infested with demons. After the incident Freshman year, which involved many of my teachers, as well as your own, it came to my attention that something had to be done."

"Yeah, that's why they called in a slayer," Nadja mumbled, but Daniel either didn't care to hear her or just didn't.

"And I knew that I, as a citizen, should do something if I could," he continued.

"You shouldn't be involved in demon activities," Beth warned him. "Your gun wouldn't have done you much good last night against the yak thing."

"A yak is the reason you couldn't go to the movies?" Nadja inquired and Beth ignored her, at least for the moment.

"I understand, and after seeing your father in action last night, I realized that," he said. "Which is why I am asking if you could tell me if he would be willing to take me on as his student."

Despite the loud atmosphere of the patio, the table was silent. Beth stared at him, wide-eyed as Nadja's mouth became ajar. Daniel though, looked completely unfazed, as if he had merely asked how their day was going.

"Are you serious?" Beth finally asked.

"Quite so," he answered. "Seeing what your father could do makes me confident in my own potential."

"You know he's, uh, 'special,' right?" Nadja inquired.

"Of course," Daniel replied, and Nadja looked taken aback, as if she hadn't expected such a response. "He is a demon hunter."

Nadja's shoulders slumped. "That's not what I meant. He's got extra powers. They make him stronger. Not your everyday average Joe can go up against a demon."

"She's right," Beth agreed. "It's best to leave that work to slayers and those with extra abilities. Look, as much as I appreciate your forwardness, I have to ask. Why do you want to be trained? Beyond simply doing your community a favor."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "To be frank, I can't honestly tell you. But I've got a good feeling about it, which I've come to find is never wrong."

"A gut feeling isn't exactly a good reason to get involved in the art of demon killing," she told him.

"It's more than a gut feeling, I assure you," he said. "I know this is the path I must take, I just don't know how to take it. I think your father would be good though, seeing as he was not naturally gifted with slayer skills like you and your mother were. So would you be willing to speak with him?"

"I can," she said slowly, not sure how else she should respond.

He smiled at her, standing up. "Thank you. I do hope we can become better acquainted in the future, Beth." And with that, he left, walking back towards the stone wall cutting between the girls' and boys' schools.

"That," Nadja said, watching him go, "was weird. Where did you meet him, exactly?"

"Last night, in the woods when my dad and I were out demon hunting," she explained. "He was looking for the same demon, since it ate his dog. He saw my dad fighting and I would swear he looked like my Watcher in that moment."

Nadja turned around, making a face. "So your dad's got another fan. Would he really train him?"

She shrugged. "Honestly? I have no clue. My dad's not exactly a teacher and he wasn't one for assisting at the academy. He begrudgingly agreed to be a part of demonstrations, mainly because my mum would bully him into doing them. Daniel seems pretty deadest on hunting demons though, so I might just have to insist he do it to keep the kid from getting himself killed."

"I can't believe he's fawning over your dad," Nadja mused. "Just imagine if Zack could meet him."

Beth smiled. "Oh, I can imagine, seeing as Zack's met Andrew, who holds about the same amount of reverence toward my dad in his eyes."

Nadja giggled. "What do you think Daniel would say if he realized he was fanboying over an ex-vampire?"

She snorted. "I don't even want to consider what sort of repercussions that would have. He's going to be severely disappointed though when he realizes that my dad didn't just learn kung-fu all on his own."

"He and your watcher can even start their own fan club now," Nadja mused, a tiny smile on her face. "They could make t-shirts."

"Oh, don't give him any ideas," she reprimanded. "The last thing my dad needs is Andrew putting his face on anything. He already tried to be a perfect mini-Spike and that was enough as it was."

"Wait, really?" Nadja asked, eyes wide. "Do you have pictures?"

Beth rolled her eyes, pushing her friend away, who had leaned across the table in excitement.

-.-

When Beth returned home, she saw her mom and dad sitting in the living room, asleep, cuddled up as the TV blared something about the news. She walked into the living room, shutting off the TV.

"Wha'?" Buffy said, sitting up blearily. "We were watching that."

"What? The recent rise in school lunch prices?" Beth asked, dropping the remote onto the table. Her dad was still asleep, as he could—as her mom usually put it—sleep like the dead (he had enough practice, after all).

"How was school?" her mother asked, doing her best to look awake.

"I understand why you're sleepy," she commented, looking over at her dad, "but what I don't understand is why he is. He was out as late as me last night and look at how chipper I am!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her stone-faced daughter. "You know your father could sleep regardless of how much sleep he got the night before. Something about the sun makes him sleepy. It's weird." She looked over at her husband, dead to the world if it wasn't for the slight movement of his chest. He was not going to be happy about the bed head.

"Spike," Buffy said, shoving his shoulder. "Get up. Beth's home."

"Hm?" he said, sitting up. "Did we fall asleep?"

"You did," Beth replied. "And I have something I need to ask you, because I said I would."

"Alright," he said, though he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You remember that boy we met outside in the woods last night, don't you?" she asked. "Silly question. Of course you do. Anyway, he came to my lunch table today. He asked if you'd be willing to train him to become the next Karate Kid."

He blinked, obviously not comprehending what she was saying. Weird, considering she put that in very plain English.

"What?" Buffy asked, looking between the two. "What boy?"

"Uh, we met a boy in the woods. Hunting that thing," Spike replied, scratching his head. "'Karate Kid'?"

"It was like a Yak," Beth supplied for her mother, "and while he didn't say Karate Kid, he did in my head and what he actually asked was close enough. He wants you to help him become a Demon Hunter."

"Wait, why?" Buffy asked. When she noticed Spike's offended look, she added, "He asked a slayer to ask you to train him? That's odd."

"He was really impressed with dad's fighting style," she explained, "not that dad was showing off or anything." She shot him a look and he pretended he didn't understand why. "Anyway, it's because he thinks Dad's just some regular guy who learned how to take on demons."

"Did you explain to him that your dad has super strength?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, it was brought up, but he said he had a 'good feeling' about it," she answered.

"'M not surprised really," he said. "'Bout time someone recognized my talent."

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, don't lie to yourself. There're books written about you, so don't act like you're some poor underdog around here."

"Yeah, if anyone gets that title, it's me, because I am literally in a household full of people who have saved the world. Do you know how much I have to live up to?" Beth asked. "Can you even conceive?"

"You'll have your time," Buffy stated dryly. "It's not as amazing as you might imagine."

"Hurts," Spike added.

"You died."

"Once," he relented. "The rest still hurt too."

"Anyway, I'd like an answer, because I'm pretty sure Daniel's a persistent type. Polite and incredibly well-spoken for a teenage boy, but persistent," Beth told them.

"Polite? Teenage boy? Are you sure he doesn't have some girl to impress?" Buffy asked. "Or he's not human?"

"He's human," Beth assured. "Odd humans exist. I'm being trained by one right now."

"Got to be honest—"

"You? Really?" Buffy cut in, and Spike gave her a dirty look.

"—an' say 'm likely not the best trainer for the boy," he finished, turning to look at his daughter.

"You're going to break the poor boy's heart," she responded. "And he's also probably going to go back out with his gun again. I did mention he's a persistent looking one, didn't I? Like undeterred, at-all-costs type. If you don't train him, he's going to get himself killed."

"Beth's right," Buffy responded. "If the kid's going to go out on his own, he might as well get a crash-course from you. Not actual crashing though."

"I know that," he snapped.

"Or he could train with you!" Buffy suggested, pointing at Beth. "Zack's away at college, so I'm sure you and Nadja are feeling his absence."

"You misunderstand Nadja's relationship with Zack, but yes, I see what you're getting at," Beth said.

"I'm sure Andrew can handle another fan of yours," Buffy said.

"Oh god," he muttered. "I already don't like this idea. Last thing I need is the two of them in the same room together."

"But Mr. Wells would be a better teacher," Beth realized. "He would know how to build Daniel from the ground up. Dad's method is to just kick them until they eventually kick him back. He's more like a die-trying-type teacher."

"Oi!"

"She doesn't respect you because you never carry through with any of your punishments," Buffy explained, patting him on the shoulder comfortingly. "And I think your new friend should train with you. At least he'll learn that a gun is the worst thing to take up against a demon."

"Now, hold on, I don't think I like the idea of another boy hangin' around," Spike argued, looking thoroughly put-out.

"Oh, Spike, don't be such an overbearing dad," Buffy told him.

"Yeah, and you met him. He didn't even look twice at me," Beth reminded him. "He's going to be upset that you turned down his offer and made him get the second-best thing: a formally trained Watcher and a powerful Slayer. I could tell him Mum was going to take him on as her protégé and he would probably cry."

"Really? Cry?" Buffy asked.

"I'm exaggerating, but you get my point," she waved off. "It would not be happy news."

"Well, I'm sure Spike will drop in occasionally for some demonstrations," Buffy said. "Won't you, honey?" He only looked at her at her with disbelief.

-.-

"So training with your Watcher?" Daniel clarified.

They were currently in the hallways of St. Jude's, where Beth had found him near the open upstairs lounge before classes. She had never been over to the boy's school and it was strange walking through a hallway that greatly resembled her own, but instead of the forest green, was navy blue and the floor was a lot dirtier. The school was organized in a similar way to her school, but Nadja had still gone with her to make sure Beth didn't wind up someplace she wasn't supposed to be. Even Beth had enough faith in herself to know she would avoid that, but she suspected Nadja just didn't want to hang out alone. It was easy enough finding Daniel, as all she had to do was ask someone, "Do you know where Daniel Shao is?" and they would look at her like she was an anomaly, pointing her in the right direction. It had been laughably easy.

"Yes," she affirmed. "My dad doesn't think he'd be the best teacher for you, and as someone who has gotten beaten by him on too many occasions, I support his decision."

"It'll be fun," Nadja promised. "I train with the Watcher too and he's really nice. Plus, he knows a lot of things. And Beth's really strong too. And really good at kicking things."

"I see," he said, falling silent for a moment. He didn't look nearly as sad as Beth would have thought he would have been, considering how awed he had looked Sunday night. "That does make sense," he finally decided with a nod. "Alright. I accept the terms. Should I exchange numbers with you, so you can contact me for time and location?"

"Err, yeah," she said, taken aback by how accepting he was by this whole thing. Nadja was nonplussed though, almost looking excited to have another person along with them. He handed her his phone and she entered in her number, handing the device back to him.

"Well, we do have training tonight, if you're up to getting started now," she told him.

"Of course," he responded quickly. "I realize I am already likely behind and I don't wish to fall even further behind."

"Okay, good. You know, keep that enthusiasm up," she told him. "Mr. Wells really likes that."

"Yeah, Beth doesn't show enough on her own," Nadja explained. "Also sometimes she doesn't listen to him, so do that and Mr. Wells'll love you."

He nodded. "Alright. I looked forward to it. And thank you, Beth, for this opportunity. I await my chance to prove myself capable of these challenges. Have a good day."

"You know, the more I talk to him, the less weird he doesn't get," Beth said, watching him go. "Though, I do think I am adjusting."

"He seems like the outcast," Nadja noted, looking around the hall. "If you haven't noticed, we seemed to have gathered some attention with our interaction. I think they're all surprised we're talking to him."

"Because he's so strange?" she asked.

"Yes, but you're not exactly the kind of girl who looks like she'd talk to a boy like Daniel," Nadja explained.

"Why not? He's not bad," Beth retorted. "Different, but that's sort of my life, so."

"You know what I mean," Nadja huffed.

"You know, I would think you'd be more upset about him coming in to our group," Beth told her.

"Why's that? I don't dislike him."

"Because you didn't like Zack," she replied.

"Okay, but that's Zack," Nadja reminded her. "And there were a lot of things that played into me not liking him around. But hey, I got better, didn't I? Consider it a learning experience. If I can tolerate Zack, Daniel will be a walk in the park."

"You're so difficult," she teased.

"Just don't go and get another boy," she said. "I can take one, but don't think of adding another. I only have so much patience with the male gender."

"So, I guess you're shooting down the newly, revived idea of me getting a boyfriend?" Beth joked.

"Oh, Beth, who would you even date?"

-.-

The black SUV sped along the road, the lake glimmering in the moonlight, its destination a line of well-sized mansions dotting the hillside. The road was otherwise unoccupied, the hour too late for other drivers in the suburbs. It was for this reason that the SUV moved undeterred, speed limit signs an insignificant blur.

In the dark backseat on the vehicle, a well-dressed man sat, his expression bored. Even relaxed, he was still a powerful and imposing force. His eyes glanced up toward the window, then to the driver in the front seat. "Tell me, are we nearly there?" the man, James, inquired.

"Nearly," the driver responded. "If you look, you can see the houses across the lake."

James sighed as he did so, his eyes skipping over the dark buildings "More houses than I remember," he commented. "Tell me, have the grounds been cared for in my absence? I would hate it if the first thing I had to do upon my return home was to hurt whoever was responsible for the neglect of my home. I can't live in an atrocious house, Alecto. I simply can't."

"The house was left looking dilapidated only to keep it from drawing unnecessary attention. To everyone's knowledge, the property was owned but abandoned. But with your arrival, there are those who returned to prepare it for you. I believe the neighbors have already begun to speak."

James scoffed. "It is of no worry. Humans spread words like disease-riddled vermin. I'll put word out that it's been sold to some real estate mogul and the rumor will go as it may. I am curious how my return has spread though. I heard that Xavier may have fled in light of my return. Is that true?"
Alecto nodded. "I have heard such the same. The others have quieted down with your approach."

"Hm, I'm glad to see that Bog-trotter hasn't lost any respect for me," James mused. "What's his name again? I always forget."

"McGregor, sir, and I don't think he was ever Irish."

"Matters little to me, as long as he doesn't get in my way," he responded. "All I ask is for a little respect in light of my esteem. Is it really too much to ask?"

"Of course not, Master. We've arrived sir." Indeed, they had. He watched with thinly veiled amusement as the gate opened without Alecto's manual force. Electric. How nice.

The car crawled up the driveway, graveling crunching under the tires. James waited as Alecto stopped the car and got out, opening the door for him. He stepped out slowly, taking in his home. With a cursory glance, his sprawling mansion was still the largest one on the lake and still elegant in its age. He was surprised how immaculate everything looked. The grass was cut to a fine level and the bushes had been shaped. The only passage of time shown—beside the new gate—was that the leafy vines that had covered the left side of the house had crept over the corner and were taking over the front side as well. He truly was impressed; he could only imagine how much it had fallen into disarray in his absence.

As Alecto pulled out his master's bags, James climbed the front steps, eager to see if any renovations had been done to the interior. He hoped nothing serious. If any changes were to be made, he wanted oversight, not his underlings. He didn't trust their design instincts.

"Is the house all made up?" James inquired.

"Yes, sir. They came into and cleaned out the dust and cobwebs, even applying some more modern pieces," Alecto informed him. "Whether or not you would like to update the kitchen or bathrooms they have left for you to decide."

"I will consider it," James responded.

The bags weren't large, but Alecto still grunted as he lifted them out of the trunk. Usually James left home without any luggage, preferring to take what he needed as he went and abandoning it when it was no longer necessary. And while he never had an affinity for trinkets and things like his brother before him, he did occasionally find something (or, more often than not, someone) that struck his fancy, enough so for him to take it. Sometimes he kept it and sometimes he didn't, resulting in a few bags of luggage. He'd likely put the pieces somewhere and then forget them entirely.

Alecto stopped beside him at the large wooden doors, sensing James' eagerness. Even with the stained-glass windows and his superior sight, James could not see into his home without entering. Alecto unlocked the door and James pushed them open with ease despite their weight. He stepped gracefully into his home, the marble tiles under his feet shining dully from the poor moonlight. Above, an intricate chandelier hung heavily in the air, the crystal glinting. He stopped in front of the grand staircase, rubbing his hand along the polished wood.

"It's just as I remember," he noted fondly. "I must say, I have missed this old place in my years abroad. While it has nothing on my brother's abode, I do appreciate this place in its own right. I would say it has aged well, despite the years, wouldn't you agree?"

Alecto set the bags down on the floor by the door and nodded. "I would say sir. You have impeccable taste."

He laughed. "Oh, this is not my doing. Myra was the one who had an eye for color and taste. She always knew what would age well. It was a pity I couldn't keep her around," he said sadly, looking almost contrite. "I almost miss her, you know. She was quite a vivid woman, and so strong. But, alas, she didn't have a head for listening to the rules. After what she did to my old maid, well, she couldn't be forgiven now could she? It took months to finally rid my parlor of the blood stains."

Alecto nodded solemnly. "Yes, she was too rambunctious for her own good. Hopefully the next one will be a bit more submissive."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Have you ever met a woman, Alecto? You never want them submissive. You want them hot-headed and fierce, a hellcat. That way, it's more satisfying when you beat them down. Now, Myra, she was nothing like my Catherine. A sweet girl, mind you, but very dull in the end. But she listened to me! Hung off my every word; thought I was a god. In the end though—like I said you want them tough first—too boring. She had to go."

Alecto nodded again. "Would you like me to take these up to your rooms, sir?"

"I'd prefer them in the library," he requested. "I have no current need for my bedroom. I prefer to share it; the bed's too big. If I'm lucky, I'll be back in there soon enough."

"Of course, sir." Alecto picked up the bags, carrying them down the hallway to where the library was, situated in the left corner of the house, with a magnificent view overlooking the patio and the grounds, which stretched all the way down to the edge of the lake. His boat was probably gone, likely torn apart during a storm in all the years he was gone. It was of little concern though, as he could always get another. The yachts had improved over the years anyway; he had replaced his car, so why not his boat as well?

"Tell me, Alecto," he called, stepping into the dining hall. He ran his hand along the smooth edge of the wood table, admiring the muted red tones of it. "When shall my court be arriving? I hate arriving in a new place without any clue as to what's going on here."

"They shall be coming by in a few days," Alecto responded, his voice growing louder as he neared the dining room. "They wished to give you a few days' rest, and enough time to gather up the heads of the clans. They didn't want to miss anyone. Aside from Xavier, who, of course, is no longer with us."

"Has anyone gone after him?" James inquired, sitting down in the chair at the head of the table.

"I believe Carmichael and Elwood took up the task."

"Elwood? The bastard's still alive?" James asked, excitement tinging his voice. "I haven't seen him since I left Venice centuries ago. I was sure he had stayed with my brother, and likely gotten himself killed for impudence. He always did like a good bar fight."

"He was until some time ago when he came upon old Itzio in Germany. It would truly seem that your brothers believe you are dead."

"Dead?" he repeated, looking more amazed than he should, considering that had been the plan all along when he disappeared in St. Petersburg all that time ago. "Well, I'm sure he is quite elated at the fact that I am still walking upon this earth. I hope he can find and kill Xavier quickly. I do miss reminiscing about the old times like we used to. Hopefully the alcohol hasn't addled his brain too much. It's hard to find someone these days who has lived for as long as I have."

"I can only imagine, sir," Alecto responded.

He laughed. "Oh, you're a lot older than you'll ever admit to me, I know that. Tell me, was Caligula as much as a tyrant as history proclaims?" When Alecto didn't respond, James only laughed again. "I ask because my brother claims he can't remember and that I should trust history as it is. I don't see why I should, as I've known it to lie to me. Doesn't history say I am dead, after all?"

He sighed, standing up from his chair. "I bid you goodnight, my dear friend. I must retire, as the sun approaches and we all know what that means. I do hope you will stay in touch, as you have always been such good company. You don't talk much, though I suppose that is why I like you so much."

"Goodnight, sir," Alecto said, bowing, before walking out the front door. James heard the car start, the tires rolling over the gravel, and finally, the creaky whine as the wrought iron gates opened and Alecto drove out. James was happy they had at least gone ahead and installed an automatic gate. It was quite a pleasure being able to press a button and have it open, rather than waiting for someone to open it. He was going to enjoy being home.