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Sunnydale High, Library, end of schoolday:
The bells rang out; even in his own office, Giles could hear the harsh clanging noise.
'I wish Mr. Flutie tried to do something about that harmful element in the teen environment,' he muttered almost sarcastically. Shrugging, he returned to his book.
The library doors slammed open, and the Watcher jerked, startled by the sudden intrusion. As he got up, Buffy came strolling in.
'Hey Giles,' she said. 'Heavy book report, hm? Do you actually have books from this century in here, or is it all Dark Ages?'
'We have a large collection of twentieth century volumes,' Giles replied, 'out in the stacks. Frankly I canīt bear to look at some of them. Why do you ask?'
'Just interested,' Buffy shrugged. 'You ca read stuff about demonic thingies that do God-knows-what to God-knows-who, and you canīt stand modern lit? Iīm surprised at you, Giles.'
'Yes, well,' Giles stammered, taking off his glasses for a quick polish. 'Is there a point to this little visit, or are you just generally here to gratify some deepfelt need to humiliate me?'
'Slay-night tonight,' Buffy replied. 'Iīm gonna be patrolling again, and I just wanted to know if you had anything special for me to look out for. Any prophecies of doom and gore to consider, maybe?'
'Nothing extraordinary,' Giles replied. 'At least not that I know. Would you mind waiting while I check out the prophecies? It shouldnīt take more than an hour or so...'
'Wow, great offer,' Buffy said, 'but I think Iīd rather go home and get some dinner down before, you know, I see anything that makes it wanna come up again. I tell you, Giles, some of those vamps are, like, really messy eaters.'
'Yes, of course,' the librarian answered, slightly flustered. 'Still, Iīll make a quick check before I turn in, and, well, Iīll see to it that youīre the first to know if anything does happen.'
'Appreciate it,' the Slayer replied, and walked out again.
'I think Iīd appreciate a doorbell in here,' Giles muttered to himself. Realising that he was still polishing his glasses, he stopped, turned, and started looking for the prophecies. 'Or an index.'
Sunnydale High, Lockers, end of schoolday:
'So Willow, whatīs this I hear about you going to enjoy the English experience?' Xander joked. Willow of course blushed furiously and began to stammer a denial.
'Heīs just rattling you, Will,' Buffy said. 'Stop rattling her, Xander.'
'Hey, just call me Poltergeist,' Xander grinned. 'Come on Will, the hot gossip is that English dude asked you out.'
'No, he didnīt!' Willow squeaked. 'You were there, no asking of out was mentioned. At all. So he didnīt ask me out, okay? I mean, I wouldīve told you if he had. Which he didnīt. So can we please talk about something else?'
'Yeah, maybe about how your English stud-muffin is right now walking down the hall towards us,' Buffy remarked. 'Behind you.'
'Oh, my gosh!' Willow whimpered. 'Heīs not coming towards us, is he?'
'Nope, heīs definitely locker-bound,' Xander said. 'Tough break there, Willow. But maybe you can catch him again at lunch tomorow. Maybe you can even introduce us to him.'
'Oh, no, heīs really, um, really not in getting-to-know frame of mind,' Willow wavered. 'Not at all. Uh-uh. Mm-mmm. Not at all. He doesnīt like it here, and he doesnīt like most of the people here. Really.'
'You two seemed pretty friendly,' Buffy teased, poking Willow in the side.
'Thatīs just because heīs really, really polite,' Willow muttered. 'Whatīs he doing now?'
'Heīs opening his locker,' Xander said, drawing out the words like a TV-presentor, 'heīs looking inside... Ooh, surprise! Thereīs letters in there! Somebodyīs been shoving in papers. Wonder who? First one is being opened, looked at...'
Cassiel crumpled the paper, turned, and casually tossed it into a garbage bin at the other side of the hallway.
'Whoīs up for reading Brit-boyīs secret lovemail?' Xander asked.
'I think itīd be a little more subtle to wait until heīs gone before we start scrabbling through his trash, Xander,' Buffy said with pseudo-seriousness.
'Well yeah, this is of course a big truth, which I should have seen coming right away,' Xander sighed. 'And digging through the trash is also very unappealing, right?'
Both girls nodded.
Cassiel picked up the second piece of paper, looked it over... and frowned. Then, as casually as before, he crumpled the paper and tossed. Finally, he slammed the locker shut, locked it, and walked away.
'So whoīs curious?' Xander asked.
'Not me,' Buffy replied. 'Tonight is Slayerīs night out. Bigtime patrol on the cemetery, seeing to it that no big bad vamps start doing their nasty. Regular worknight.'
'Iīve got to work on my math assignment,' Willow said.
'I thought we were gonna work on my math assignment!' Xander exclaimed.
'That too,' Willow agreed. 'So, you wanna do Chinese or fries and burgers tonight?'
'How about homecooked?' Xander asked as they started to walk down the hall. 'Weīre not working at my place tonight, itīs your place,' Willow said. 'Oh yeah, I forgot, īcause you wanne forget my homeground,' Xander replied.
'Not to mention where Iīm gonna be all night,' Buffy sighed, 'good old...
Sunnydale Catholic Cemetery, 20:00 :
The nights in Sunnydale are usually balmy. This one was no exception. Darkness had spilled out over the town like oil from the battlements of a besieged castle; thick, smothering, deadly for those that became immersed.
Above, the moon hung, casting an almost lugubrious glow on the markers, the angels and the crosses of stone. The stars glared down, like the beady eyes of hungry insects, seeking out a prey.
The Slayer stalked between shadow and light, a wooden stake at the ready, muttering a mantra all her own: 'Damn stupid high heels... Why do they have to spray the ground here in the evenings? Plants donīt benefit from water if you just squirt it on before dark...'
It had been a quiet evening so far. No vampires, just a couple of bunnies that had leapt out of a bush and legged it when sheīd gotten too close to their hiding-place.
At one moment, Buffy had thought she heard the hooting of an owl, but as it approached, it turned out sheīd really heard the honking of a Volvoīs carhorn, passing by a graveyard.
Thumping music and nearly deranged laughter coming from inside the car had indicated its occupants; a bunch of schoolguys on a night out. Still, they should be safe enough as long as they stayed in their cars, and they didnīt start walking around the graveyard alone.
Like someone else was doing right now.
Cautiously, Buffy snuck up to the lone form, a man in a black jacket. Could be a vamp. Then again, might not be. Sheīd have to see - the stake went behind her back, and...
Angel turned around, the ghastly light of the moon reflecting off his face.
'You took your time,' he remarked, calmly. 'I thought youīd have been here hours ago.'
'Sorry, oh wise one,' Buffy replied, with gentle sarcasm. 'Do tell me what new epic prophecies of dread and doom youīve got lined up for me today. Or maybe you wanted to ask me out for coffee?'
'Actually, I do have something to tell you,' Angel said, stoically ignoring the jibes. 'Word on the street is that the Masterīs got a yen for someone... special. Someone who just hit the town. Some... people tell me that he thinks he can get rid of you if he can turn this person, whoever it is, over to his side.'
'Great,' Buffy said with a smirk. 'Can you make that any vaguer?'
'Iīll tell you more when I know more,' was all Angel said. 'Any luck tonight?'
'Nope, quiet as a church on Saturday night,' Buffy shrugged. 'You wouldnīt happen to know why the litle badboys are being so quiet, would you?'
'Theyīre out looking for this special person,' Angel said. 'Donīt let your guard down, I hear that heīs a stone killer. Be very, very careful.'
'Yeah, right,' Buffy sneered. 'As if...'
Angel stepped back into the shadows, seeming to blend with the darkness, and the sense of his presense just vanished. When he didnīt say anything more, Buffy stepped forward and took a closer look.
'Cryptic wiseman legs off,' she sighed. 'Great. On with the patrolling...'
The Masterīs Lair, below Sunnydale High Library, 20:10 :
'Where are the patrols?' the Master muttered, pacing up and down the length of his prison. 'They should be back with news by now. How hard could it possible be to find him?'
Darla looked up from the Lake of Blood and offered: 'Maybe heīs in hiding. He could be holed up in some church somewhere.'
'Thatīs not the way that the Executioner works,' the Master snarled. 'Heīs been here as long as any demon, and in all that time heīs never hidden himself or run away unless he was grievously injured. Itīs all in the book.'
'Isnīt there a spell in the book to summon him, Master?' Darla inquired, trailing a finger through the bubbling, red liquid.
Icy cold blasted against her back, and she cringed. 'Sorry Master,' she whimpered, turning around, expecting to see the scarlet eyes of the Old One upon her.
Instead, she saw a stranger standing at the entrance to the lair.
The Master did not seem surprised by the new arrival, but approached him with a casual stride. 'So, you heard about my invitation,' he said contentedly.
The hooded, cloaked figure spoke, its voice cold enough to raise frost on a lake: 'I was aware of your attention. What do you want of me?'
'Please come in,' the Master offered, 'I have something very interesting to show you.'
The Executioner remained still for a moment, then came forward. The dimensional barrier, which hemmed in the Master, blurred and glowed as he passed through it. A short, piercing whistle echoed through the cave, and Darla ducker her head in terror, her lovely young face changing into its demon form.
'Welcome, welcome,' the Master said with a hideous smile. 'I trust you are well?'
'Do not delay me with idle banter,' came the icy voice of the Executioner. 'We are enemies. Only the rules of this miserable place keep me from cutting you down where you stand.'
The surface of the Lake of Blood started to congeal, a thin layer of mud-coloured ice forming on it.
'Of course, of course,' the Master said, not taking offense at his visitorīs tone of voice. 'But letīs put our animosity aside, shall we? I can tell you the name of a couple of witches, right above us in the city.'
'I can find witches for myself,' the Executioner replied. Frost started spreading across the floor, the walls. All heat slowly left the lair, and Darla sneaked out, whimpering in the back of her throat. 'Their emissions are unmistakable.'
'Of course, of course,' the Master agreed. 'But these are special witches. They are in league with the Slayer.'
There was a pause. A frigid pause; the Lake of Blood froze further, the ice cracking and groaning as its volume grew.
'A Slayer,' the Executioner repeated, its voice thoughtful, like a low winter wind. 'I have dealt with Slayers... before.'
'No doubt you shall do so again,' the Master purred. 'But I just thought you should know about this. Itīs a professional courtesy, you understand. One fallen being to another.'
In a flash, the Executionerīs gauntleted hand was around the Masterīs throat, crushing, lifting the old vampire from his feet. Blue eyes flared and glowed within the hoodīs darkness as the cold voice hissed: 'I did not fall! Do you hear me? I was betrayed, I did not fall! Remember! I did not fall!'
Choking, gasping, the Master nodded agreement. Very carefully, the black-robed Executioner put him down, then wordlessly turned around and walked out.
The barrier blurred and refracted all the colours of the rainbow and more when he passed through it, a high-pitched keening echoeing throughout the room.
With slow, careful movement, the Master started wiping ice and frost from his hands and throat, grinning evilly. 'Here he comes, Slayer,' he purred. 'Here he comes.'
Sunnydale Catholic Cemetery, 20:46 :
'Well, this was a total and complete waste of my time,' Buffy muttered as she walked towards the exit.
'Goodbye, and do return to our friendly little boneyard,' she quipped as she walked through the open gates. 'Open day and night, no stop-'
The cemetery was not always open. Graverobbing was not a regular occurrence in Sunnydale, but it had happened in the past. Gates were locked, and Slayers had to climb or jump over walls. Which meant that...
Carefully, Buffy searched the ground. The lock was lying nearby, simply snapped in two and tossed away like a banana-peal. She could have done that, but she hadnīt. So somebody else with mucho strength had. Someone really strong was nearby.
Or had been. They were probably miles from here by now, the Slayer reasoned. After all, who the hell would break into a cemetery and then stick around to-
'Look here, brothers,' a sly, gurgling voice echoed from around the corner. 'Itīs a little late-night snack. Letīs indulge before we continue.'
'Sod off,' a rather unfriendly, impatient voice replied. 'I donīt have time for this.'
'Then youīll have to make time, mortal,' the sly voice gurgled, something about its tone indicating that sharp fangs had just been extended.
Buffy sped around the corner, stake at the ready. A group of five vampires was standing around a single man - Cassiel from high school. She slammed the stake into the back of a vampire facing the prey and ignoring its cover.
With a short, anguished howl, the vampire burst into dust. The other four changed their faces to demonic, and started forward.
Almost casually, Cassiel balanced on one leg and kicked one of the vampires in the fangs with the other one. Changing legs, he kneed the startled monster in the groin, doubling it over for a two-fisted blow to the back of the skull.
With a groan, the vampire collapsed.
Buffy got two of the attackers to back up with a quick kick-punch combination, but the third slammed into her and sent her sprawling. Pinned, the Slayer struggled to get up, but the vampire leaned down with all his might, baring fangs for the bite...
'Bad form, old boy.' A booted foot smashed into the vampireīs ear, making the creature howl and grasp its head. Buffy jerked up her knee, toppling the monster away from her, then jumped on its chest and brough down the stake.
'You will regret this if we meet again, mortal,' one of the two remaining vampires gurgled, its eyes darting to and fro between Buffy and Cassiel.
'Then Iīd better kill you now,' was Cassielīs chillingly casual reply. He started forward, and to Buffyīs surprise the two vampires started backing up.
'Come now, my little fiends,' Cassiel taunted them, 'why in such a hurry? Donīt you want to play some more?' He started walking faster.
One of the two vampires roared and leapt forward, arms outstretched to grasp and smother. Buffy hurled the stake, hitting the undead monster squarely in the chest. With a muffled thud, the vampire fell into dust.
'How distasteful,' Cassiel remarked, brushing lightly at his jacket. 'And then there was only one...'
With a whimper of fear, the last vampire turned and ran.