TITLE: Essence of the Slayer (Chapter One)
AUTHOR: Cherry <cherry@thekeep.org>
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Buffy/Darla
SUMMARY: Buffy dies, discovers a new world.
ARCHIVE: http://www.thekeep.org/~cherry/
SPOILERS: BtVS: Season five, 'The Gift'; Highlander: Endgame
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.

Prologue

	Not long after dusk, two figures stood next to each other in a
cemetery, looking down at a plain gravestone.  One was tall with dark hair
falling down his back in a loose ponytail, wearing a long duster.  The
other was short, blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders.

	A feminine voice spoke softly, almost reverently.  "She saved the
world..  a lot.  Had to be Xander."

	"Not many can make the same claim."

	A long silence followed.  Unnoticed by either, a darkly dressed
figure mumbling to himself came walking directly at them.  Clutched
tightly in his hand, a small bunch of ragged flowers.  Jerking to halt as
he spotted the two, he faded back, hiding behind a tree, having expected a
private moment.  He tilted his head, listening as the blonde spoke again.

	"So that's it."

	"Yes.  It's time to go, we should have left a week ago."  The
taller figure turned and walked off, followed a moment later by the
blonde.

	The lurking man stepped out behind the tree, a look of shock on
his face.  "Bloody hell."  Coming out into the light from the rising moon,
he rushed over to the graveside, checking to be sure the ground was
undisturbed.  Spike turned in the direction the first two had left.
"Buffy?"

*****

Chapter One

	[Several months later]

	The sound of metal clashing together rang loudly in the mostly
empty room.  Whirling blades danced between the two sparring figures,
lashing out time and again as the two sought an opening in the other.  A
few heartbeats later, and it was over, a yard of sharped steel spinning
away from the hand of one, and the flat of the blade smacking into the
back of his neck with a meaty thwack, driving him down to one knee.

	He winced slightly, then turned to gaze up at his opponent, a
pretty blonde girl with a nearly blank expression on her face.  The sword
lay unmoving on his neck.  "Planning to finish me already?"

	Buffy pulled her blade back at last, anger coloring her tone,
"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

	Duncan rose to his feet, and retrieved his wayward blade.  "Yes,
it is.  Your training is finished, I have nothing more I can teach you."
He smiled.  "And god help the immortal that decides you're an easy mark."
He watched his student carefully, the disgust plain on her face with the
thought of becoming a killer.  This was a dangerous moment.  He had honed
her impressive natural skills into a lethal weapon that had surpassed even
his own abilities.  He had created a danger to himself as well as other
immortals.  More than one new immortal had become a headhunter by deciding
it was the lesser of two evils to kill those who live by killing.

	The moment passed, and Buffy slid her blade away.  She stared at
him, then bowed before walking away.  Duncan let out the breath he'd been
holding.  Finished, at last.  The shortest training he'd ever heard of,
yet it had felt the longest as well.  The girl had been determined to
fight every rule he laid down, resisting until the end.  Keeping her in at
night had been all but impossible, the only rule he'd been able to enforce
was that she never left without her sword.  He wiped his face with a towel
and grabbed his cell phone.  Dialing, he paused then spoke.  "It's done.
I thought for sure she'd take my head at the end; don't underestimate this
one."  He listened for a minute.  "Adam...  I didn't let her win.
Alright, until then."  He pulled the phone away from his ear and dropped
it back down again.

	It was traditional to end the training only when the student had
won her first fight.  That is, taken her first head.  Tradition be damned.
It would be better if Buffy never took a head at all.  She might like it.

*****

	The man who called himself Adam hung up the phone and finished his
beer.  It wasn't the first time MacLeod had expressed doubts, nor was it
the first time that Adam wondered if he was right.  Instead of sending the
boy scout to train her, he should have simply taken her head.

	The prophecy was clear, though.  She was born to hunt those who
preyed upon the weak, the predator of predators.  It was the one thing she
had never resisted, had, in fact, embraced it from the first night,
insisting she had to go out.

	Go slaying, that is.  MacLeod had kept him well informed, keeping
track of the nights she came back in torn clothing.  The hardest part had
been explaining the unusual slimes that often found her clothing.  Duncan
wasn't exactly naïve, but there was no need to explain her true calling to
him.  So long as no headless bodies turned up, Duncan accepted it.

	It had been his own self doubts that had caused him to send
MacLeod to Sunnydale.  This was the third time the prophecy had appeared
to indicate a slayer would become immortal.  He had been present for the
first two.  Nothing had happened though.  One had been drained of blood,
the other had her own stake turned against her.  Neither one had returned.

	Adam didn't take dissappointment well.  So when the third
possibility arrived, he found someone else to send.  And damned if this
one wasn't the true immortal.  She'd even died once before and come back,
drowning nearly four years before.  So MacLoed did his duty and trained
her.

	His part was done as well.  Rather, it was just starting.  It
hadn't been easy, but he'd pulled strings until the watcher assigned to
her was one Adam Pierson.  All he'd had to do was make Methos vanish for a
time, and suggest that this new one might lead to finding Methos again.
Rather stupidly dangerous, when he thought about it.

*****

	She stared out the window of the car during the entire trip.
Duncan had explained about immortal culture and the game, and virtually
everything she'd need to know.  He'd left out one part until her training
was finished.  Watchers.

	A society of watchers who were sworn not to interfere.  Each one
had an assignment, and it was a point of pride that the watched immortal
never even knew he or she was being watched.  However, Duncan knew his
watcher.  Joe something or other.  And she'd get to meet hers.  Adam
Pierson.

	She had glared and wanted to know why she was different.  Just
because he knew his watcher?  Duncan had been slow to respond, eventually
telling her that Adam had a reason, and Adam would have to tell her
himself.

	Duncan's voice interrupted her musings on watchers.  "We're here."
Here seemed to be a bar named 'Joe's'.  Great, another watcher with a
drinking problem.

*****

	Duncan waited for her to get out of the car, looking away from her
so as to avoid giving any kind of signal.  He could sense an immortal
nearby, but to date, Buffy had seemed to lack that sense.  He could even
recall her exact words when he'd discussed it with her.  'So the Buffy
immortal radar is a no-go, Sounds about right.'

	He watched out of the corner of his eye as she startled, looking
back at him with a faintly surprised look on her face.  "The radar working
now?"

	She nodded.  "It's really irritating, too."

	Duncan simply laughed.  "That it is.  But one that can keep you
alive." He paused, then continued in a softer tone.  "I knew one of us
would be here to meet you, but be ready in case it's not the one I
expected."  With that, he walked into the bar, not looking to see if she
followed.

*****

	Long used to the habits of these long-lived subjects, Joe looked
at the door when the man in front of him did.  He smiled in greeting as
Duncan came in, followed by the tiny blond girl.  As was his wont, Duncan
had been absent for weeks at a time, utterly focused on imbedding the
knowledge required to keep his new charge alive.  He politely moved away
from the table as Duncan moved to sit down, the girl moving to sit only
after Duncan gestured, her left hand pulling out from under her coat as
she did so.  The move was so subtle, it was only as Joe moved behind the
bar that he realized she'd been on the edge of drawing a sword.


	The man they had come there to meet had a rather arrogant look to
his face.  "Buffy, this is Adam Pierson, the most annoying man alive.  
Adam, this is Buffy Summers, the most frustrating student I've ever had.  
You were made for each other."

	Buffy simply rolled her eyes.  "Don't start playing-"  She cut
herself off, then stared at Duncan.  "But he's...!"  She stopped herself a
second time, not wanting to say it too loudly, and continued in a near
whisper, "He's like us.  I thought you said watchers weren't."

	"Ordinarily, no.  I'm a special case.  I thought it might be
clever to infiltrate the watchers, and get myself assigned to, well,
myself."  Adam availed himself of the fresh beer.

	Buffy simply glared at him.  "What's that got to do with me?"

	"You, my dear, would upset the balance of the game.  So I have
taken it upon myself to act as your guardian so you never have to take
part.  After all, I have a great deal of practice in avoiding it."


	The conversation staggered for the rest of the evening, Adam being
as charming as he knew how, having had centuries to perfect his style.
Buffy's mood never improved that much, being told that she'd wasted the
last few months was nearly beyond bearing, despite the fact that she never
had intended to use the training at all.

*****

	Duncan grimaced.  Buffy could be trying at the best of times, but
tonight she was in rare form.  And he hadn't even told her that she
wouldn't be leaving with him.

	"Buffy, there's another reason I wanted you to meet Adam tonight.
Since your training is finished, it's time for you to make your new life."
Duncan let her digest that for a second, unsurprised that her only
response was a hooded stare.  "Adam can help you with that better than I
could."

	Adam nodded, and caught her attention.  "You cannot return to your
old life, you know this.  As long as you agree not to try, I can
compromise this much.  We'll go to L.A.; I'm aware that you would feel
most at home in California.  You must promise me, however, that you will
make no attempts to contact anyone you left behind."

	Buffy let the silence stretch out until it was painfully
uncomfortable.  "Fine.  I promise."

	Duncan got up, and politely made his goodbyes.  In a decade or
three, perhaps the sharp edge of her tongue would have worn down.  And if
not, he would simply try to go another handful of decades before seeing
her.

	Adam watched her as Duncan left.  She hadn't even turned to look
at him going, a very bad sign in his opinion.  She'd set herself apart
from humanity, and it was humanity that needed her most.  No matter.  He
knew a great deal about living, having had more life than most.  If he
couldn't help her, he had no idea who could.

	"We'd best be off.  Miles to go, you know."

	Buffy silently followed the ancient immortal away from the bar.
She resolved that she had played it by their rules long enough, it was
time to return to Sunnydale.  

-- End Chapter One
NOTES: Buffy was pre-immortal when she was chosen as the Slayer.  The two
were not compatible, however, since both powers trigged upon death.  The
Slayer power, which had been active since the death of the previous
Slayer, was primary during her first death, and blocked the immortal
transition.  Xander's CPR /did/ save her life.  At her second death, the
already triggered Slayer transition did not interfere, allowing the
immortal power to become active, and she woke up in the morgue.  BTW, poor
Methos got it wrong.  The first two slayer/immortals simply needed a
near-death experience to call the next slayer, then they could have become
immortal.
$Revision: 1.14 $
$Date: 2002/02/03 06:38:43 $