Chapter Text
I stopped. "You're back. What's your vague warning of death and destruction for me this time?"
I stood seemingly alone on the street leading from the Bronze. A waxing gibbous moon was suspended high in the night sky above me, bathing Sunnydale in a soft blue light. In exactly five days, it would a full moon.
What? You have to keep track of things like this as the Slayer.
I turned around slowly. I knew perfectly well I wasn't alone.
It wasn't a demon or a vampire that had been trailing me. It was a man, but not just any man. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular build. His hair was dark, almost black. He had high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me. Angel. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized him. "Angel," I greeted him, my voice sounding breathless to my own ears. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
He looked at me with that intense, brooding gaze of his. "Buffy," he said, his voice low and serious. "We need to talk."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the goofy smile that was threatening to split my face. "You know, I read something the other day. I heard dark, brooding, mysterious guys are usually only dark, broody, and mysterious to cover up the fact that they're actually really boring folks with no personality. Thoughts?
He blinked, and his mouth twitched. "You know, I read something the other day too," he replied, his voice dry. "Apparently, snarky teenage girls who think they know everything are actually just insecure and trying to cover up their own vulnerability." He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thoughts?"
I rolled my eyes. "I think whoever said that was projecting."
Angel's smile widened slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. "Maybe," he conceded, his voice low and gravelly. "Or maybe they just had a point."
"So, you admit to being a boring guy with no personality?" I asked.
Angel's eyes narrowed, a hint of exasperation flickering across his face. "No, I admit to not being interested in playing games," he said, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Especially not when there's something important we need to discuss."
I sighed. Angel could be so... businesslike. "Fine, what is it?"
"The Master is planning something," Angel said, his expression grim. "I've been hearing whispers among the demons, talk of a new artifact that's coming to Sunnydale."
"Isn't there always?" I mused, turning away.
"This isn't something to joke about." he said, stepping closer to me. Gently, he pulled my shoulder and I faced him. "It... he's going to target you, Buffy."
"I know."
We were standing close together now. Close enough that I could feel his natural scent coming off his body. Close enough that I could see the faint stubble on his jaw and the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones.
"I just... I need you to be careful." he murmured. "Okay?"
"I'm always careful." I cleared my throat, trying to resist the urge to fan myself. This jacket was hot.
Right! This jacket. "Oh, um, did you want your jacket back?"
Angel raised an eyebrow. "My jacket?" he repeated, his voice low and amused.
I nodded, my heart still racing from our close proximity. "Yeah, you know, the one you gave me at The Bronze?" I tugged the black leather jacket.
"Keep it." he paused for a moment. "It looks better on you."
I felt a blush rising to my cheeks at his words, and I ducked my head to hide it. "Thanks," I mumbled, my voice sounding breathless to my own ears.
We stood there for a moment longer, just looking at each other.
Finally, Angel cleared his throat, taking a step back. "I should go."
He turned to leave, but I called out after him. "Angel, wait!"
He stopped.
I took a step towards him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Thank you for warning me about this new evil thing. It means a lot that you came to tell me." I hesitated for a moment, then added softly, "Be careful out there, okay?"
Angel paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "You too, Slayer."
He disappeared into the night.
When I got to my bedroom, I flopped onto my bed with a heavy sigh. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It had been a long day, and the encounter with Angel had left me feeling drained and unsettled.
I stared up at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of the new artifact that was supposedly coming to Sunnydale.
I tried to push it out of my mind, telling myself that I would deal with it when the time came.
Angel always did this. Entered my life, said something cryptic, looked really hot, and bailed. Then I wouldn't see him again for another month. He was like an outdoor cat. If the outdoor cat was a supermodel and offered warnings of doom instead of dead rats.
I groaned, turning over and burying my face in my pillow. I didn't want to think about Angel or the new evil or anything else supernatural. I just wanted to be a normal teenage girl, worrying about normal teenage things like school and boys and whether or not my hair looked okay.
But Angel sort of... made that difficult.
He stuck in my mind like a splinter I couldn't dig out. My dating life was—to put it charitably—nonexistent. I had never really had time for boys, between my Slayer duties and trying to maintain some semblance of a normal life. Most of the guys at school didn't interest me, and the ones that did were usually too intimidated by my reputation as "the weird bad girl" to approach me.
Well, there was Owen that one time... but he wasn't interested in me for the right reasons. He wanted me to fulfill his adrenaline junkie needs, not because he actually liked me. And what better high was there than surviving vampires?!
Ugh. I needed sleep. Not to keep thinking about Angel. I turned over again, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Far away, the Master looked over, his eyes glowing red with anticipation. "Is it ready?" he asked, his voice low and rasping.
Darla nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across her pale face. "Yes, Master," she said eagerly. "The ritual is complete. The artifact is charged with the dark energy we need."
The Master smiled, his fangs glinting in the dim light of the underground cavern. "Excellent," he purred, his eyes narrowing with pleasure. "With this artifact, the Slayer will be powerless against us. Her strength will be drained, her abilities nullified. But best of all... the enemy she fights will be an enemy she can't see, can't touch..." He laughed, a low, sinister sound that echoed off the stone walls.
Darla looked at him with a mix of admiration and fear. "Who is it, Master?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "What enemy will we unleash upon the Slayer?"
The Master's smile widened, his eyes glinting with malice. "Herself, of course." he grinned. "Bring me... the Skull of Night."
Darla nodded, hurrying to obey.
She returned moments later, carrying a small, ornate wooden box. With trembling hands, she opened it, revealing the skull inside.
It was human-sized, but clearly not human. The bones were blackened, twisted and deformed, with sharp spikes jutting out from the eye sockets and cheekbones. Horns sprouted from the temples, curling upwards like a ram's horns. A crimson gem was embedded in the center of the forehead, pulsing with an inner light that seemed to shift and change as one looked at it.
The Master took the skull reverently, holding it up to the light so that the gem glowed even brighter. "Behold," he intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "The Skull of Night. The instrument of the Slayer's doom." he turned to Darla. "I entrust this task to you, and you alone. Late at night, you are to plant it in the library at that infernal school. It must be hidden, hard to reach, out of sight. If you do this, it will destroy her from the inside out, no further action required."
Darla nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. "I understand, Master," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I will not fail you."
The Master snarled, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "See that you don't," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "For if you do... you know what awaits you."
Darla swallowed hard, nodding jerkily. "Yes, Master."