Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all recognizable characters, locations, and dialogue belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the various writers. Show writers and any other quoted authors have been credited in individual chapters. I’m making no money from this—it is purely in the name of fun.

Beta'd by Phuriedae

Banner art by Phuriedae

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Chapter 2

Dead Men Tell No Tales


All those years fighting us. Your power so near to our own...

Find it. The darkness. Find your true nature...

You think you know ... what you are ... what's to come. You haven't even begun...

That night sleep does not come easily. Not when I get into my bed. Not even when I finally find myself awake in my Dream Bed. For the first time, however, I find the vampire waiting.

"It'd be really nice if I could go one night without any vampires," I grumble. He's sitting up on his side of the bed, I think. Hard to tell when you can't see anything, but there's something about the give of the mattress and the way the tingles are prickling the back of my neck that says sitting up. I go with it.

I'm feeling restless. More so than usual. I desperately want to talk to someone about my encounter earlier that night and I can't think of who. Except... there's this vampire here. This faceless, dream vampire who never says a word. It's not really real. It's just a dream. So... I talk.

"I staked Dracula tonight," I say. "Three or four times. Didn't take, of course, and he's long gone by now... You ever meet Dracula?"

No answer. I hadn't really expected one.

There's not even the slightest shift to the mattress to indicate a head nod or anything. I shrug.

"He's really annoying. Full of himself. I thought he was kind of pretty, at first, for a vampire. No bumpies for Dracula. He probably thinks they'd ruin his image. I wonder if vampires get plastic surgery?"

The vampire shifts a little then, and lets out a soft sound that might be a choked back laugh.

I do laugh, then lean back against the headboard. "Well it is California. They'll plastic up anybody. He looks like vampire Barbie." There's a definite silent chuckle feeling from my roommate. "So I guess you're not him, then." The vampire goes still again. Very still. Even my tinglies are alarmed. Not quite sure what I'd just done I try to explain. "Well, I figure if you were Dracula, you wouldn't be laughing at yourself. He doesn't strike me as the self-deprecating type."

A few heartbeats later he relaxes. How weird is it that I'm starting to be able to read dream mattress?

"The thing is... he said some stuff to me... tonight. I... you know I'm the Slayer, right?"

There is a barely perceptible motion from his side of the bed. I take it as admission. If he hadn't, I figured he'd be lunging or scrambling away from me as quickly as possible. That he doesn't do either confirms that feeling I'd had months ago. Somehow, in some way, I know this vampire. Or at least he knows of me.

"Right. So, he said that ... my power comes from darkness. And... it kind of wigged me, you know? Well, maybe you don't cause you're all about the darkness but... I'm not supposed to be. I'm supposed to be the good guy, the white hat. I didn't believe him. But then he made me drink some of his blood—"

The vampire falls off the bed.

There's a distinct movement, and then a thud and a quickly choked back noise that probably had almost been a curse but came out more as a cough.

"Are you okay?" I ask, not really thinking. Then I catch myself. Right. Vampire. I'm supposed to be slaying him, but I can't so instead I'm worrying about him cracking his skull from falling off the bed. The really huge bed. He must have been right at the edge. Stupid vampire.

After a long pause I hear him climb to his feet, then deliberately settle himself back on the bed, this time a little closer to me and further from the edge. I wait. He waits. Finally he makes a weird sort of motion that feels like a hand gesture. Which I can't see of course.

"I can't see you, you know that, right?"

He taps once on the bed. "Is that a yes?"

He taps again. "You're a very weird vampire, and this is a very weird dream." I don't get a response to that.

"I guess you were a little surprised about me drinking Dracula's blood?" One tap, and it's a little emphatic. "It's not like I had a choice!" Only that's not really true and I suspect he knows it.
"Stupid thrall," I mutter, even though I knew if I'd fought it just a little bit harder I could have broken it. The truth was... the truth was he'd offered to show me something about myself and I always have had a hard time passing that up.

There's a curious sort of silence from my vampire.

"Okay, so it was a dumb move. And it didn't really show me much of anything. Just... me fighting. And that crazy rasta-mama first slayer chick that tried to kill me in my dreams once... and blood, only all in close up, which... ewwww." I pause. "Probably not from your perspective, I guess." He shifts as if restless or disturbed. "It's just... there's so much about being the Slayer that I don't understand. You'd think that I would. I've been doing this for five years now. But I don't really know anything about... where my powers come from or even the extent of them. Which I should. I totally should. I know I'm not all book-girl but... maybe I should, like, look it up... If for no other reason than to keep from having to drink icky vamp blood in order to figure it out."

It hits me, then. I should talk to Giles. We haven't really done the training thing in a long time and I miss that. Somewhere in the last year or so I've become ... attached, to being the Slayer. Used to be that all I wanted was to be normal-girl but... that Crucifixion test that the Council put me through kind of changed all that. Then, working with the Initiative last year made it even more obvious. I am the Slayer. It's my Calling or whatever. It's part of me, and it's a part of me that I kinda almost like.

Tomorrow, I'm going to talk to Giles about resuming my training. I need to understand all this better.

No more vamp blood for Buffy.

I flop back against the pillow and stare at the darkness that is the ceiling. Sleep, true sleep, steals over me. Just as I start to drift off, however, I feel the mattress shift beneath me and a cold finger gently touches the healing puncture wounds on my throat. The vampire growls softly. Startled, my eyes fly open, but he's already moved away, back to his side of the bed. He settles in, and stills.

I lay awake for a long time after that, with the ghost of his touch still hovering over my skin.

***

Giles, needless to say, is thrilled when I tell him I want to learn more about being a Slayer.

His face kind of looks like a Christmas tree when it lights up like that.

***

The downside to this, of course, is that Riley is feeling neglected. I can't really help it, and it's not like we still don't see each other all the time. It's just more... patrolling-type dates than date-type dates, or nights at the Bronze, which he never really minded before.

"Plans?" I ask one morning when he drops by unexpectedly. "We planned plans?"

"Well, you said, uh, 'come over tomorrow and we'll hang,' and then I said, 'OK.' Not the invasion of Normandy, but still a plan," he looks a little disappointed.

Crap. I completely forgot. Color me guilty-Buffy. I nod. "Right," I say, when I can't think of anything else that doesn't start with an apology.

"We're... not hanging today, are we?" he says with a wry sort of expression.

I explain about Giles picking me up so we can go shopping for more Slayer training supplies. He takes it pretty well, considering.

"Are you mad at me?" my voice sounds small. He's my boyfriend and I'm neglecting him. True, I'm neglecting him for my sacred birthright but it's still neglect, right? I already feel bad about that whole Dracula-thrall thing and not telling him about getting bitten. He was really upset about that, and I get why. I do. But that's also why I have to do the training thing, so stuff like that doesn't happen again.

"Oh, no, not at all," he says. "I'm plotting your death, but in a happy way." His grin is sweet and reassuring, which only makes me feel guiltier.

Sometimes it's nice having an understanding boyfriend. Sometimes I don't get why it doesn't make me happier. I mean this is what I've wanted, right? A nice, normal guy who'll be my rock, who I don't have to hide parts of me from. He's sweet, attentive, and handsome; just a patriotic, healthy, normal American Boy.

I remind myself of these things as we kiss and he leaves so I can get ready.

I wonder why I have to remind myself.

***

The day goes from uneasy to disastrous faster than you can say vampires.

First there's Giles' car, which—yeah, pretty—but c'mon, compensating much? And there's a place I never want to go again.

Then Willow freaks out when I tell her I'm dropping drama.

After which we find a dead body in the Magic Shop.

Again.

"Judging by the bite-fest I'd say it was more than one vampire." Poor guy looks like he'd been used as a chew toy.

Giles reaches over and closes the corpse's eyes. I've gotten way too blase about dead bodies over the years. This one barely wigs me. "I'd make it four, at least," Giles says, studying the wounds, equally cold blooded. Tara was the only one who had to go outside for fresh air, maybe because she knew the guy.

"Looks like someone's put together a new fang club," I say. My mind flashes to Spike. Just because he's chipped doesn't mean he couldn't get other vamps to work for him. We like to forget sometimes that he's technically a master vamp, and that being evil for over a century has probably taught him more than a few tricks. Still, this doesn't really have his signature on it—especially when we start looking at what was taken.

Willow's reading off the list she cross checked with the inventory, looking for missing items.

"Mostly books," she says. "Including A Treatise on the Mythology and Methodology of the Vampire Slayer."

Not good.

I'd wanted to read that one.

Giles tells me to take things more seriously. And he's right, I suppose. If there are vampires out there who are reading up on me, that's definitely a reason to be concerned. But there's something about this that is failing to register on my Slayer radar as Serious Threat.

The missing unicorn statue pretty much seals that coffin.

***

It's bleach night at Xander's house; it's not hard to convince him and Anya to hang at mine, just in case any vamps decide to swing by. My mom's going to be out late tonight and I want to be sure she arrives home safe. Riley and I take patrol.



When we get back I've got a broken window, and Xander and Anya are laughing hysterically.



"Harmony?" I giggle as they fill me in on the details. "Harmony has minions?"



I can't help but laugh. I mean, honestly, Harmony? Shallow, vapid Harmony who couldn't even get a date if it weren't for the fact that she clung to Cordelia like a leech? Being a vampire hasn't really improved her any. If she had a soul before she was turned, it being gone hasn't made much of a difference in her. Same old Harmony: a little paler, a little fangier, and still a complete bimbo.


I should have guessed it was her from the missing unicorn. It's impossible to take Harmony seriously as a threat. First of all, as a vampire she's a joke, even more so than Spike. At least he's actually evil, even if he can't, you know, be evil right now because of the chip. Harmony's about as evil as she is smart; in other words, not very. I can't even bring myself to stake her most of the time, she's such a waste. Whoever decided to vamp her must have been desperate. She's not even that pretty. Kind of horsey.


Still, she's throwing rocks through my window, so I guess when I'm done laughing I should go out and kick her ass on principle. Can't have other vamps thinking that it's okay to mess with my house. Mom's going to freak enough as it is.

Xander goes to assess the damage. All these years cleaning up demon messes have made him a pretty decent construction guy. I'm glad he's finally got a job where he feels useful and gets to use his skills.

Of course, that's when we find out that just because Harmony is useless, it doesn't mean her minions are. They manage to knock out Anya, but she falls backwards into the kitchen where she's safe. Xander isn't so lucky, and they snatch him before I can get downstairs and outside.

Guess he's going to need to reaffirm his non-butt-monkey status.

While Riley calls the ambulance for Anya I head out.

Time to go visit Spike. If anyone knows where to find Harmony, he does.

***

"Ow! Bloody hell!" he yells when my fist connects with his nose.

I hate his face. I mean, really, really hate it. Doesn't matter how much damage I do to it, it always heals and then I'm stuck staring at it again. I wish he wore his demon more often, like other vamps. It would make my life so much easier.

Sometimes I think about the first time I saw him, in the alley outside the Bronze. Melting out of the shadows like a... melty thing. Those blue eyes mocking me, that smug little grin on his lips, the white blond hair and impossible cheekbones making him look...



Angelic.



More than Angel ever did.

Even Dracula's overdone good looks seem cheap compared to Spike's face.

There's something really wrong with the world when something so evil can have a face like that. Evil should be ugly. Twisted. Bad should not look beautiful.

Which is why I take so much pleasure in breaking his face as often as possible.

"I don't have time for banter, Spike. Where's Harmony's lair?" I demand, pressing him up against a stone column.

"Haven't seen her in months," he lies, because that's what Spike does. He's not even good at it. "How should I know—OW!" I punch him again.

"Where is she?"

"At least lay off the nose," he complains.

Unlikely. Breaking his nose is hugely satisfying. I pull back my fist, ready to let it fly. "Okay, okay. Used to have a cave in the north woods. About forty meters past the overpass construction site."

I hit him again.

"Ow! I was telling you the truth!" he bellows as I turn to go.

"I know," I say.

Maybe his nose will swell up ‘til he looks like Owen Wilson. There's a happy thought.

***

The cave is right where he said it would be, and Harmony and her minions are arguing over whether or not they should eat Xander now or wait till later.


By the time I'm done dusting the minions—really not much of a challenge—Harmony has escaped and Xander is slumped in his chains.

"Getting a little tired of playing the damsel," he says as I cut him down. "Do you think, maybe, next time Riley can wear the dress? This is not doing good things for my manhood."

We spend some time looking for Harmony, but she's vanished. Then we go to the hospital. Anya's awake and aware, if in a lot of pain.

I let Xander play the hero to make up for him having to be the hostage.

Next time I see Harmony, she's totally dust.

***

I tell the story to my vampire that night, as he climbs into bed.

He's doing the predatory thing again, but I ignore it. I'm still too cheesed off at Harmony, and besides, he hasn't tried to touch me since that once.

"I could barely stand her when she was alive," I tell him. "And someone liked her enough to make her live forever? Ugh. If I ever find her sire I'm going to lock him in a room with her for a month or two before dusting them both. Serve him right."

The vampire is silent and still, but I'm still wound up. I get out of the bed and start pacing along its length, using the tinglies as a landmark in the dark so I can find the bed again.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me.

"I wonder if it's Spike?"


No response of course. Not like he'd know anyway.

"I mean, we don't know when she was vamped. He could have done it just before that whole fiasco with the Gem of Amara..."


Except...


"Oh, wait. No. She said she was going to Paris for the summer, after graduation, but couldn't after she was turned. I remember Willow mentioning it. And... Spike didn't come back till after the fall semester started.”

I drop to the mattress, disappointed.

"Crap. I was kind of looking forward to locking them up together. He'd probably kill her and that'd be one less vamp I'd need to dust. Besides, they dated or something. That had to be torture. For both of them."

Suddenly I've got the giggles again, remembering Harmony and her minions.

"God, she's such a pathetic Big Bad. She's clearly trying to out Spike Spike. What with the hair, and the black leather outfits. She's not even the Big Bad. She's like... the Kinda Bad, only she's really bad at it. Like an evil Scrappy-Doo. You should have seen her with all her minions about to mutiny. I wonder how she convinced them to be her minions? It's not like she's the alpha female or whatever."

I think of the guys she had trailing after her. None of them were really top-choice, prime-sirloin material. Probably were just desperate to get laid.


The vampire hasn't said anything or moved at all. I can tell he's listening, but he seems preoccupied tonight. I wonder if he knows Harmony. Doubtful. If he did he'd have done that silent laugh thing he does sometimes.

As I crawl back into bed I remember that this is just a weird dream thing and my vampire more than likely is just a figment of my subconscious or something.

Of course, if he were, wouldn't you think he'd talk back? Or at least laugh about Harmony? Why is it even my subconscious vampires are uncooperative?