Part 5
He watched as she disappeared down the street. Following her . . . was a bad idea. Best let her cool off a bit first.
He’d seen her like this before, all in a snit, lashing out at whoever was convenient. Which most of the time seemed to be him. But give it a while and she’d come back. She always did.
Of course, this wasn’t the same world she was used to, and the thought gave him pause for a moment, as he remembered the over-crowded cemetery. But she was the Slayer. If there was one thing he knew for sure about Buffy, it was that she could take care of herself. In that way at least.
He glanced back into the courtyard and studied the closed door of Giles’s apartment. Stupid git. Not that he blamed ol’ Rupes. Hardly expect a Watcher to take their story at face value, ‘specially once he’d tripped to a vamp in the midst. Apparently this world’s Slayer didn’t consort with the undead.
He smirked. Her loss. And time for him to do some nosing around on his own. Rupert couldn’t be the only ticket out of this town. Just a matter of finding the right witch.
Time to see if Willy’s Place was still around.
++++++++++
Buffy tumbled to a stop as the heel of her boot snapped and her ankle twisted sharply. She muffled a curse as she gingerly lifted her leg and inspected the damage. She could feel the skin growing tighter and the hot throb that signaled a sprain.
She fumbled with the zipper and peeled down the leather of the boot, easing it off her ankle and dropping it onto the pavement. Buffy eased her head into her hands and fought back the tears.
Could things get worse? Really, was it possible?
The prickling down the back of her neck answered her question. Yep. They could.
Her early warning system was given a soundtrack in the form of a snarl coming from beneath the darkened streetlight that wasn’t illuminating anything. Good thing there was a full moon.
She sighed and got a good grip on the stake she’d tucked in the back of her skirt, then cautiously rose to her feet as she surveyed the approaching group. Three vamps. She could take three vamps. Piece of cake.
Well, piece of cake when she was un-limpy. Right now, it might be really difficult cake. Like a meringue or something.
She tried to brace herself as best she could while the vampires swaggered closer. Buffy wrinkled her nose. Why did so many vamps adopt that biker gang look? Did they really think a trip to the Harley-Davidson shop made them some sort of instant bad-ass?
“Well, what have we here? Little girl all alone. You lost, little girl?” The lead vampire strutted towards her, completely unafraid.
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Buffy adopted her best babe in the woods expression. “I seem to have lost my way. Could you help me find it?”
There was a general chuckle among the three as they shifted into game face and she tightened her grip on the stake behind her back. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
The first vamp rushed forward and she could feel her bum ankle start to give way as she staked him through the heart and tumbled through his dust. The others pounced like overenthusiastic cats on a wounded bird.
She lashed out with her good leg and caught one firmly in the kneecap as the other grabbed for her staking arm. She felt the smooth wood slide through her fingers and a tendril of fear snake around her heart.
And then there was a squeal of tires and a shout to her left. Vamp #2 went poof, clutching at his chest and arching backwards, and through his remains she saw a van door thrown open and an arm frantically motioning her in. She shoved hard at the final vamp who’d already begun a scrambling retreat and half-crawled, half-ran to the open door.
She’d barely made it into the seat and pulled the door shut when the engine revved and the van sped forward. She gave a long sigh and turned to thank the driver.
“Oz?”
++++++++++
Spike shook his head in disgust at the boarded up door. What self-respecting vamps would want to shut down a no-good dive like Willy’s?
A movement at the end of the alley caught his eye and he followed quietly behind the raucous group without notice. They were unobservant, unwary, the way creatures with no natural predators grew.
He didn’t know whether to envy or scorn them.
The vampires that strolled through the streets without a care had a clear destination in mind that became apparent as they moved closer to the edge of town. The Bronze. Looked to be Vamp Central. And if the vamps ruled the town, they would be the ones with the information.
Time to make his move.
++++++++++++++
Buffy decided the essence of Oz must be the same no matter what universe. His expression barely shifted at her exclamation.
“Do I know you?” His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but her crazy dimension hopping story hadn’t gotten her very far with Giles. Maybe not the best thing to spring on someone at first meet.
She laughed nervously instead. “Um, no, that is, I know you, from . . . um, gym class. You’re Oz right?”
She saw something that might have been a faint crease across his forehead as he pondered. She plunged ahead.
“I’m quiet though, usually. And new. Newish. Haven’t been in Sunnydale long. So is that, like, the welcome wagon here?” she asked, trying to sound seventeen again.
“Unwelcome wagon. What was your name?” He still looked slightly wary.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Buffy.”
He nodded. “Buffy. Nice to meet you. And a word of warning, you shouldn’t go out at night here. Ever.”
She sighed. “I think I’m getting that.”
Warning delivered, Oz seemed content to just drive. The surrealism of the moment hit her then, as the strains of the college A.M. station Oz had listened to for as long as she had known him floated from the dashboard. It was like a wave of nostalgia for her last year of high school, when everything seemed . . . simpler. It probably hadn’t been, with Faith and Angel and the Mayor and the general angst of college hunting and SATs. But compared to her life now . . .
She shook herself out of her reverie and glanced at Oz, his face partially lit by the bright moonlight.
Moonlight? Oz? Full moon?
Buffy gasped, “Oz? You’re not all grrr.” She illustrated with finger fangs.
He shot her an odd glance. “No, not a vamp.” He pointed to the cross around his neck. “Not their bling of choice.”
She shook her head, “No, no, I mean, you’re not a werewolf.”
Okay, he was really looking like he thought she might be crazy now. “No, not a werewolf.”
But how? She thought for a minute. “Oz, have any of your family . . . you know, been killed?”
“My aunt and my little cousin. They were in the first wave, after the Master rose. We weren’t prepared then.” His fingers tightened around the cross at his throat.
“Oh. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Listen, Buffy, where can I drop you? You have a safe place to go? I need to get home.”
It popped out before she even thought. “I live at 1620 Revello.”