Warning: Normally I would do the summary first. But I need to do this first. If you are anti-Trans, that is okay. You don't have to like anything to do with transgender issues and I am not forcing you to read this story. That said don't come in and start complaining because Buffy is a transgender woman in this story. I will simply add you to my block list and you will be unable to review any of my stories ever again as a result. I have no tolerance for such people, especially since I am myself trans. My advice if you do have a problem with transgender issues, is to stop reading now. No harm, no foul. And go read something else you do like better.
Summary: "Buffy," Giles repeated, as if memorizing it. "You know the prophecy."
"'One girl in all the world,'" Buffy repeated, a sharp hint of irony to her tone. "You think maybe fate crossed a wire in there somewhere?"
Disclaimer: Disney owns Buffy
A/U: From the beginning
Pairing: To be determined
Author's Note: First off, as stated in the warning above, Buffy in this story is transgender.
Second, Dawn is in this from the beginning. I have not decided if she was simply created early or if she has always been there and made to be the human vessel for the Key.
Third, Credit goes to Zedpm (over on A03) for some of the scenes in this story (with their permission) as well as the inspiration to do this story as it is based off their story of the same name.
Chapter 1: Welcome to the Hellmouth
March 10, 1997 – Monday
Summers Home
Buffy sat up in bed, blinking against the brightness that streamed in through her window.
"Rutherford?"
"I'm up, Mom," Buffy replied with a grimace at her birth name. She hated it as it was a constant reminder she had been born in the wrong body.
"Don't want to be late for your first day!" Joyce Summers called from the hallway.
"No," Buffy mumbled to herself. "Wouldn't want that." She heard the uncertainty in her own voice. She sat up and stared around the room, at the half-decorated walls, the unpacked boxes stacked in one corner.
Then with a sigh, she got up to face the day where everyone saw her as Rutherford Summers the only son of Hank and Joyce Summers and the big brother of her ten-year-old sister, Dawn. Out of her entire family only her sister knew she was trans. She had tried once to reveal it to her parents, but instead of revealing she was trans she had revealed she was bisexual and they hadn't taken it well that she might be interested in boys.
Sunnydale High School
Her new school looked nice, from the outside. It had an open yard where people were milling, though suddenly, sharply, Buffy missed her old school; its lot full of Mercedes-Benzes, every classmate in new high fashions, a place where you could wander the halls for hours and meet not one person who knew your name. Her blissful anonymity was over here.
"I hope you'll like it here," Joyce said, pulling to a stop at the curb in front of the school. "Sunnydale will be a change for us, but hopefully not a bad one."
"I'll do my best," Buffy promised, kissing her mom on the cheek.
"Now, you have a good time," Joyce said, watching her son get out of the car. "I know you'll make friends right away. Think positive. And, honey . . ." she paused, sounding hopeful. "Try not to get kicked out."
"You burn down one gym…" Buffy muttered under her breath.
"Bye, Bu…" Dawn started as she looked toward her mother. She then turned back toward her sister. "…Rutherford," she corrected as she waved from the backseat.
"Bye, Dawnie," Buffy waved back as her mother drove off.
She stood for a moment, sizing up her new situation.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy sat in the principal's office, across the desk from Mr. Flutie. As she watched him, he pulled her transcript from a folder, glanced through it, then turned a direct gaze on her.
"Rutherford Summers," he recited.
"Buffy," Buffy corrected, muttering low enough that he hadn't caught it.
"Sophomore, late of Hemery High in Los Angeles," Flutie continued. "Interesting record. Quite a career."
Before Buffy could answer, he smiled and carefully tore her transcript into four pieces.
"Welcome to Sunnydale," he announced. "A clean slate, Rutherford, that's what you get here. What's past is past. We're not interested in what it says on a piece of paper. Even if it says—" He broke off and looked down again at the ripped pages. His eyes went wide. "Whoa. At Sunnydale we nurture the whole student. The inner student."
Having recovered himself, Mr. Flutie continued to talk while picking up the pieces of her transcript and arranging them back into their original shape.
"Other schools might look at the incredible decline in grade point average," he went on. "We look at the struggling young man with the incredible decline in grade point average. Other schools might look at the reports of gang fights—"
"Mr. Flutie—" Buffy interrupted.
"All the kids here are free to call me Bob—"
"Bob—"
"But they don't."
He pulled out a piece of tape and began taping the transcript together again.
"I know it looks bad," Buffy said. "But I really don't want any trouble, sir. That gym was a freak incident."
Mr. Flutie stared at her. "You call burning down the gym a freak incident?"
"I do," Buffy answered. "And if you give me a chance, I think you'll find me an exceptionally average student."
"Rutherford. Don't worry. Any other school, they might say 'Watch your step,' or 'We'll be watching you,' or 'Get within a hundred yards of the gym with a book of matches and you'll grow up in juvie hall,' but that's just not the way here. We want to service your needs and help you to respect our needs. And if your needs and our needs don't mesh…See that I don't see you in here anytime soon, Rutherford."
"Yes, sir," Buffy said as he slipped the messily mended transcript back into her folder and slammed it shut with his hand.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy paused in the hallway, narrowly avoiding being bumped into by a distracted student. She then hurried off to her first class of the day. Moments later she sat in the back of her history class, earnestly taking notes. The teacher's voice droned on and on while she tried to keep up.
"It's estimated that about twenty-five million people died in that one four-year span. But the fun part of the Black Plague is that it originated in Europe: How? As an early form of germ warfare. The plague was first found in Asia, and a Kipchak army actually catapulted plague-infested corpses into a Genoise trading post. Ingenious. If you look at the map on page sixty-three you can trace the spread of the disease . . ."
Everyone opened their books. Buffy didn't have one yet, and as she looked around at the other kids, a girl in the desk next to hers leaned over. "Here," the girl said. She moved her book so Buffy could share it.
"Thanks," Buffy smiled.
"And this popular plague led to what social changes?" the teacher continued.
When the bell rang at the end of class, the girl finally introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Cordelia."
"I'm Bu…Rutherford."
"If you're looking for a textbook of your very own, there's probably a few in the library."
"Oh, great. Thanks. Where would that be?"
"I'll show you."
The girls walked out into the crowded hall and Cordelia glanced at Buffy with unconcealed interest.
"You transferred from Hemery, right? In L.A.?"
"Yeah."
"Oh! I would kill to live in L.A. Being that close to that many shoes . . . Why'd you come here?"
"Because my mom moved, is the reason. I mean, we both moved. But my mom wanted to."
"Well, you'll be okay here," Cordelia assured her. They stopped at the water fountain, where Willow was taking her turn.
"Willow!" Cordelia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Nice dress. Good to know you've seen the softer side of Sears."
Buffy saw the instant hurt on Willow's face. She stared at Cordelia, surprised by the girl's sudden viciousness. "What are you doing?" she asked the girl who she quickly realized was likely the queen bee of Sunnydale High.
"What do you think?" Cordelia asked.
"Well, it looked like you are being rude to her," Buffy said. "And I don't really stand for that kind of thing, personally. So how about you hurry up and leave? I'm sure she can show me where the library is."
Cordelia stared at her for a long moment and then huffed, snarled, walked away.
"Th-thanks," Willow said appreciatively. "Are you new?"
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I'm—Rutherford Summers."
"Willow," Willow said introducing herself. "Do you want to come eat lunch with us? Me and my friends, Jesse and Xander, I mean."
"Sure," Buffy agreed as she smiled at the redhead. "First can you show me where the library is. Then I can meet you…"
"Just out front," Willow said as she returned Buffy's smile. She led Buffy on to the library.
"Thanks," Buffy said with they stopped in front of the door.
"Your welcome, I'll see you at lunch," Willow said as she turned and went off.
Buffy entered the library, surprised at the elegance of it, the dark wood paneling, the streaming sunlight across the floor, the shelves and shelves of books. A short flight of stairs led up to a second level of still more bookcases, and with its large oak table and cozy study lamps, the room had a curiously warm country-house feeling.
There didn't seem to be anyone around. As she paused beside the checkout counter, she happened to notice a folded newspaper lying there, an article on its first page circled in red. The headline stated "Local Boys Still Missing," and beside it was a blurry picture of three boys.
Buffy wandered farther in. She peered around a bookcase.
"Hello . . . is anybody here?"
Without warning someone touched her shoulder. Startled, she spun to face him.
"Can I help you?" the man asked politely. He spoke with a British accent, and his expression was one of quiet intensity.
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. "I was looking for some, well, books. I'm new."
"Miss Summers," the man said. It was the second time in her life she'd been greeted that way.
"You're one of those guys…" Buffy accused as the library took on an ominous air, "…those Council people."
"Well, yes. How did you—"
"Me being 'Miss' Summers isn't exactly common knowledge," Buffy said dryly. "Only two people really ever knew. One was one of your people and the other is my sister."
"Ah," the man said, holding out a hand, which Buffy didn't shake. After a while he dropped it. "My name is Rupert Giles. I'm your new Watcher."
"Buffy," Buffy said.
"Buffy," Giles repeated, as if memorizing it. "You know the prophecy."
"'One girl in all the world,'" Buffy repeated, a sharp hint of irony to her tone. "You think maybe fate crossed a wire in there somewhere?"
"Transgender Slayers are not unprecedented in history," Giles said. "Martha of Venice, in the 1430s, lived to be almost forty. And the Mayan Itzal in the 870s. Fate didn't mess up. Society on the other hand has, in its limited conception of gender."
Buffy decided she liked Giles. "I didn't ask for this. Can't you find somebody else to kill vamps for you? Slaying already messed up my life in L.A."
Liking Giles didn't mean she wanted to screw up her mom's life again, or her own.
"You're the chosen one," Giles said. "At least train with me for now."
"Fine, whatever. I'm going to lunch. I'll come by after school," Buffy told him. She was about to head out when she thought of something. She turned back to face him. "Talking about training. Is there a way we could get that so the school saw that as my physical education requirement?"
"Under normal circumstances, I don't see how," Giles admitted as he looked thoughtful. "But given your situation, I will see what I can do. I assume that…"
"I have some body dysphoria," Buffy admitted as she looked down at her flat chest and the bulge in her pants.
Giles walked into his office and pulled out a sheet of paper. He typed up an excuse on the typewriter. "Buffy," he called and she came into the office. "Can you reasonably forge your mother's signature?"
"I can try," Buffy admitted as she read the note that would excuse her from her gym classes for at least this week till they could figure something more permanent. She pulled out a sheet of paper and signed her mother's name a few times before she was sure it would pass muster then she signed the note Giles had typed up.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The hallways, which had before seemed innocuous, now felt as though they would close in on her at any moment. She kept a quick pace, retrieving her lunch from her locker and noting irritably that she hadn't actually gotten any of her course books from Giles. Oh well. It wasn't like she wouldn't be back.
Willow carefully sorted through her packed lunch. Healthy as usual. And totally boring. She was so involved that she didn't notice anyone approaching until a voice spoke behind her.
"Willow, hi," the voice said.
Willow started and turned around. "Hi, Rutherford," she greeted as Buffy sat down beside her.
"I heard after I left the library that you were a good person to study with," Buffy informed the redhead. She wasn't a bad student in any regards, the only reason her grades had slipped at Hemery was because of training to be the Slayer and fighting vampires. "And I have this burning desire not to flunk my classes."
Willow smiled. "Oh, I could totally help you out! If you have sixth period free, we could meet in the library—"
Buffy thought about it, on the one hand the library would be the perfect place to study, on the other hand it would mean both of her worlds colliding. "Sure," she hesitantly agreed.
The girls looked up as Xander sauntered over with Jesse.
"Hey. Are you guys busy?" Xander greeted them. "Can we interrupt? We're interrupting."
"Hey," Buffy smiled.
"Hey there," Jesse answered.
"Rutherford, this is Jesse." Willow made the introductions. "And that's Xander."
"It's nice to meet you guys," Buffy said. "So, what's up?"
"Lunch," Jesse answered. "That most manly of activities."
"Oh, yeah…manly," Buffy said, uncomfortably taking a bite of her apple.
"Looks like the ultrafine Queen C has her eyes on you, Rutherford," Jesse said.
Buffy blanched. "Ugh. No thanks." She might be bi, but even she had tastes and Cordelia was a definite turn off.
"Yeah, Cordelia is gross," Xander agreed.
Willow nodded. "Rutherford totally told her off for me earlier! It was awesome!"
"Well, told her off might be putting it a little strongly," Buffy said. "I just told her to go away."
"Brave words from a newcomer," Xander said. "It's pretty impressive, completely wrecking your social status that quickly."
Buffy saw Willow blush and smiled at her. "Not really interested in being popular," she admitted. "Besides being bisexual might be a turn off."
"Your bi?" Willow asked in surprise as Buffy nodded. "It's definitely not a fast track to being popular around here." She motioned toward Jesse. "Given his reaction…"
"My reaction? What? That was—my back does this thing—" Jesse twisted around wildly.
Buffy laughed. "Relax. When it comes to guys, I'm sure I can find a hotter guy around here than you."
Jesse deflated. Xander looked sort of uncomfortable, and Willow was grinning. "This is great," she said. "I finally have someone to talk to about boys."
"That would be nice," Buffy admitted with a grin. She glanced at Xander and Jesse, who still seemed to be in shock. "Just out of curiosity are their no gay people out at this school?"
"There's a senior couple, Adam and Horatio," Willow admitted after a moment of thought. "Other than them I can't think of anybody."
Xander shook himself and shoved Jesse, who grimaced. "Sorry," he said. He kicked Jesse, who said, "Sorry, Rutherford."
"It's okay," Buffy said. She sighed. "I don't have AIDS or something. You can chill."
"Chill," Xander told himself. He took a bite of his sandwich. "Gay is okay."
"Let's let them process that," Willow said. "What's your next class?"
Buffy examined her schedule. "Officially, gym. But I have a note to excuse me this week."
"Well then we can walk together," Willow said. She patted Xander on the head. "Bye, boys."
"Bye," Xander said as Jesse echoed.
Willow and Buffy headed inside, and Buffy said, "So they're pretty homophobic, huh?"
"They're good guys," Willow said. "Sunnydale just isn't what you'd call cultured. They'll get over it." She smiled awkwardly.
"Yeah," Buffy said. "So, Xander, huh?"
"What about him?"
"You like him," Buffy said.
Willow blushed bright red. "I do not!" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Okay, yeah, I do. But he's so oblivious. I'd probably have to show up on his bed naked to get his attention." She blushed harder and stammered. "Not that I would do that!"
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, you don't exactly seem like the type." The turned the corner and saw a line of students in the hall. She approached someone in the crowd. "What's going on?"
"Coach Foster, cancelled gym class, because of a dead guy in the locker," the girl answered.
"Dead," Buffy repeated.
"Way dead," the girl confirmed.
"How did he die?" Buffy asked her gaze still steady upon the girl.
"Not sure…though he had two holes in his neck," she answered.
"Was there a lot of blood?" Buffy couldn't help asking. "Was there any blood?"
The girl looked at Buffy shocked at the question. "I…I don't know."
"Thanks," Buffy said as she turned back toward Willow. "Sorry, Willow. I got to go. Looks like we have a free period."
"I'll come with you," Willow offered.
Buffy looked at her friend for a moment and then turned around, heading for the library. Willow scrambled to follow.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy burst through the doors, spotted Giles, and said, "Hey, Giles! It's me, Rutherford Summers, and Willow Rosenberg, my new friend. Hear about the dead guy?"
Giles was standing on the second level, completely engrossed in a book. He looked down as Buffy started up toward him. "I did, yes," he said with a glance at Willow. "I heard he had holes in his neck. How odd."
"Very odd," Buffy agreed. Willow looked between them in confusion. "Who do you think the killer might be?"
"Certainly, an inhuman individual," Giles said trying to speak in code for Willow's benefit. "What do you think they'll do with the poor boy?"
"Bury him, I suppose," Buffy said.
Willow watched them, then sighed and walked into the stacks.
Giles led Buffy down the stairs and to the counter, she hoisted herself up and sat there. "Will he rise again?" he whispered low enough to Willow would not hear.
"No clue," Buffy answered. "I don't think so though. Willow glanced over at them, and Buffy smiled at her. "I think somebody was sending a message, though. I think they know I'm here."
"They wanted your attention," Giles agreed. "That means whoever it is will come to you, whether you want to keep slaying or not."
Buffy sighed. "Yeah. It's inescapable, isn't it? I'll never be free."
"You could join a commune underground," Giles said. "Abandon society entirely. But people you could have saved will die."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "This thing is a real bitch."
"Fate picked you for a reason," Giles said. "You wouldn't be chosen if you weren't strong enough to bear this."
Buffy couldn't bring herself to glare at Giles, but she sighed again, resignation deep in her chest. She could feel it like a blow. "One vampire-free day. That's all I wanted."
Giles patted her on the shoulder. "I have been doing some research. It is apparent that something is coming. Something is going to happen here soon. As far as I can tell," he explained, "the signs point to a crucial mystical upheaval very soon— days, possibly less."
"I'll keep an eye out," Buffy said after a second. "I'm not patrolling tonight, but I will tomorrow." He raised an eyebrow in question. "I still have to unpack. Besides we need to know who I am going after. You research local vamps tonight and fill me in tomorrow on who I'm looking for. Cool?" She hopped off the counter without waiting for affirmation. "Cool. See you tomorrow, Giles. We're leaving, Willow!" she called. Willow followed her out and back onto the courtyard.
"You know the librarian?" Willow asked. "Mr. Giles?"
"Old family friend," Buffy lied.
"You could've just said you wanted to speak to him privately," Willow said. Buffy shrugged. "So, would you like to come to the Bronze tonight? It's about the only club in Sunnydale worth going to."
"Where's it at?" Buffy asked.
Willow gave her the directions as they walked into the student lounge. Buffy then finished out her day alternating between being glad she had made friends, to sad they knew almost nothing about her that mattered, to mad at Giles and his dumb British accent. Why did Sunnydale have to be so complicated?
Summers Home
Night had fallen.
Buffy stood in front of her bedroom mirror and let out a sigh. She wished she could be like other girls and agonize over her fashion statement of the evening. Being a girl trapped in the body of a boy, she didn't have that much of an actual wardrobe for what she called 'boy mode.'
Behind her Joyce came into the room. "Are you going out tonight, honey?" her mother asked her.
"Yeah, Mom. I'm going to a club."
"Will there be girls there?"
"Mom," Dawn said from behind her mother. "Rutherford isn't going to join a monastery."
Joyce mother ignored her youngest's mild sarcasm. "Well, just be careful," she informed her son.
"I will," Buffy said. She could sense the conversation easing into serious territory.
As Dawn moved beside Buffy, Joyce regarded both of her children a little uncomfortably. "I think we can make it work here," she insisted. "I've got my positive energy flowing. I'm going to get the gallery on its feet—we may already have found a space."
Buffy tried to sound enthusiastic. "Great."
"And both schools are very nurturing environments," Joyce informed her children. "And before you both mom me. They're not too nurturing. I know. I read all about the dangers of over nurturing." She hesitated, then added truthfully, "It's hard. New town and all. For me, too. I'm trying to make it work. I'm going to make it work."
"We know," Buffy said before she glanced at her sister. "Right, Dawnie?"
"Right, Rutherford," Dawn agreed.
Streets of San Francisco
Buffy decided on a pair of denim jeans, a powder blue shirt, and her leather jacket.
And then she decided to walk to the Bronze.
As Buffy left the safe lights of the suburbs behind, she soon found herself entering the deserted city streets on the edge of town.
She turned a corner, wondering how much further she'd have to go. The sidewalk stretched endlessly before her, camouflaged in shadows, and her footsteps echoed hollowly in the dark. Slowly she got the feeling that she wasn't alone.
There was another sound of footsteps.
Footsteps behind her . . . footsteps walking where she had walked . . .
Buffy whirled around.
She could see a figure standing there, shrouded in blackness. Just far enough away so that she didn't feel quite comfortable confronting it.
The figure didn't move.
And though she couldn't actually see its face, she had the distinct, unsettling impression that it was looking straight at her.
Turning quickly, Buffy went on.
The figure followed.
Buffy picked up speed. She could hear the footsteps again, sure and measured behind her, taking their time. On impulse, she ducked into an alleyway, quickly assessing her surroundings. A large pipe spanned the enclosure some ten feet above her. A cluster of smelly garbage cans blocked the other end.
With one smooth movement, Buffy swung herself up onto the pipe, her body poised in a bandstand. She waited for the figure to turn into the alleyway, and then she dropped down on him without warning, her legs locked over his neck. Throwing herself back, she tipped him over, then rolled and slammed his body onto the ground.
He was on his feet instantly, but she grabbed him and threw him up against the wall. As she closed in, she suddenly realized he was making no move to attack her. Instead he put up his hands.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" the young man asked, seemingly amused at the situation.
Buffy cursed internally as she got a good look at him for the first time. "Yeah, we have a problem here. Two, actually. The first is that you were following me. The second is that you're a vampire. As you may know, I kill vampires." She whipped her stake out and pressed it against his chest. "Any last words? It's a service I don't normally offer."
"You can't kill me!" the young man said desperately. "I'm a good guy! I have a soul! How did you know I'm a vampire?"
She tapped the back of her neck. "Tinglies," she said. The truth was she wasn't very good with her spidey-senses, but if this vampire overestimated her, all the better. "And you called me ma'am, dumbass. Which means you were either a vampire or…Anyways the only way you could know my gender identity was…"
"If I knew you were the Slayer," he finished for her with a small grimace. "People call me Angel," he said. "Look, can you let me up?"
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, sure, vampire. I'll just let you go," she scoffed. "You and your soul."
"It's true," Angel said sincerely. "Look, I don't know how to prove it. Can you just this once take it on faith?"
"I have a better idea," Buffy countered. "Come with me for a minute. Don't even think about trying anything, or I'll dust you before you can say help."
Angel nodded at her, looking disgruntled. The Bronze was only a few minutes away, and she kept him a few paces in front of her at all times.
The Bronze
A good-sized crowd milled aimlessly around the Bronze.
It certainly wasn't a fancy place, Buffy saw at once—in fact, it was kind of a dive—but there was an appealing sort of earthiness about it that seemed to go with the high-school-and-older crowd standing in line. She and Angel moved their way up the line.
Inside, the place was dark and noisy and absolutely packed. A band blasted wildly from the stage up front, yet the crowds seemed relatively well behaved. A lot of kids were squeezed into the coffee bar at the back, while even more watched the action from the balcony above, lounging at tables set for two.
Buffy pushed her way through, with Angel still where she could see him, looking around for Willow, Xander or Jesse. She spotted Willow at the bar, shyly ordering a soda. She parked Angel at a table a few paces away. He leaned on it awkwardly.
"Hi!" Buffy smiled as she joined her new friend.
"Oh, hi!" Willow looked pleased and very out of place in her Peter Pan collar and sweater. "Hi, Rutherford! You made it!"
Buffy's mouth twisted. "Not for long, unfortunately," she said. "I have to head back home. I just didn't want you to think I'd ditched you."
Willow made a droopy-eyed sad face. "Oh, darn!" she said. "I guess I'll leave too. I was hoping Xander would show up, but. No go."
Buffy grimaced. "Okay. Uh…" she looked back at Angel. "Are you walking home alone?"
"Yeah," Willow said.
Buffy sighed and walked over to Angel. "Do you have any cash?" she asked. Angel pulled out two twenties and handed them to her, and Buffy gave them to Willow. "Call a cab," she said shortly. She shot Angel a dirty look. "It's not safe to walk alone at night."
"Okay," Willow said as she looked at Angel. "Uh. Who's that guy?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You don't want to know. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Willow nodded rapidly and walked over to the bartender, who handed her a phone. Buffy watched her and then shoved Angel through the crowd toward the back door by the stage. The closer they got to the stage, the more crowded it seemed to grow. In frustration, Buffy and Angel wrestled through the rest of the way and Buffy shoved open the door.
It was empty backstage, cool and strangely muffled. There was no one about, and they moved along the postered brick walls, passing by an old chair propped in a corner. After the noise and crush of bodies inside the club, the place seemed vast and mysterious. At last they found the exit door. It opened into the alley and they stepped outside.
Standing there was a young-man in hopelessly dated clothing and a girl, who was struggling against him.
'God, can vampires not figure out how obvious they look when dressing in outdated clothes?' Buffy thought to herself. She grabbed the vamp and hauled him off the girl. "Go home," she informed the girl who ran off.
The vampire looked at Angel, who held his hands up innocently. He then charged Buffy, who punched him in the stomach and grabbed him by the hair, flinging him against the dumpster. The vampire got back up and Buffy kicked him in the chin, darting forward she staked him while he was disoriented. He exploded into ash, and Buffy coughed.
"My clothes," she groaned, then shook her head. "Whatever. Come on, vampire."
Angel walked ahead of her again, and Buffy led him to the school.
Sunnydale High School
Buffy marched Angel to the library and shoved him through the doors. Giles looked up, wide-eyed.
"Cage," Buffy grunted. Giles quickly went to unlock it, and Angel went inside, rolling his eyes and huffing indignantly.
"This is a little over the top!" he called.
Buffy and Giles ignored him. "Who's this, then?" Giles asked.
"Vampire," Buffy answered.
"And he's in one piece because?"
"He claims to have a soul," she said. "Not terribly bright, though. He was following me around on the street like a creepy stalker."
Giles shook his head. "What's your name, then?" he called out to Angel, who glared out from the cage.
"Angel," he said. Giles raised an eyebrow. "Angelus," Angel ground out.
"Of the Scourge of Europe?" Giles asked in surprise as Angel nodded reluctantly. Her turned toward the blonde Slayer. "This is quite a catch, Buffy. He's quite notorious."
"I'm reformed!" Angel informed them. "Look me up! It's been decades since I killed anybody. I want to help."
Giles cocked his head. "A soul, you said, Buffy?" he said as she nodded. "There may be a detection spell. Vampire, do you see mallow root anywhere in there?" He listed off several ingredients and Angel handed them through the cracks, an exasperated look on his face. Buffy watched as Giles grabbed a book.
"This really isn't necessary," Angel protested. They continued to ignore him, and Giles set up the spell, chanting quietly in Latin. He gave off a pink glow when Giles finished.
Giles nodded. "He's telling the truth," he informed her. "He has a soul."
"So did Charles Manson," Buffy muttered. But she went over to the cage and let Angel out. He eyed her warily, and she held up her hands. "Come on, dude. You really thought I would just trust a vampire who was stalking me?"
Angel looked down. "Well," he said. "I just wanted to warn you about the Harvest. And give you this." He slowly reached into his coat. When he withdrew his hand again, he was holding what appeared to be a small sort of jewelry box. Buffy carefully opened it.
It was a cross.
Small and most definitely an antique. Attached to a long silver chain.
Buffy glanced up at Angel, her eyes questioning. "A little extra protection never hurt anybody," he said.
Buffy shook her head. "I still don't trust you," she said flatly. "But thanks," she fastened the cross around her neck.
"This wasn't what I was expecting," Angel said.
"Yeah, well," Buffy said. "Welcome to Sunnydale."