Vampire Journal

Ah, so you came back to see me. I’m impressed. You were so upset with me when we parted last. Speaking of you, who the hell are you? I mean, there’s not a lot of mortals who know about places like this, and even fewer of them want to actually COME to a demon bar.

You’re looking for a witch? Well, surprisingly, even with a Hellmouth under the town, there are relatively few witches and other mystics in Sunnydale. So, chances are I could help you find who you’re looking for. I mean, I don’t keep an eye on JUST the Slayer, but she is the main purpose of my surveillance. But I do know most of the others in town as well.

Willow?

As in Willow Rosenberg? Hot little redheaded chick, actually friends with the Slayer? Wow, small world. Yeah, I know her. Actually tried to date her once. You look surprised? She’s…special.

I met her about two years ago at the Bronze. I was off the clock, so to speak. The Slayer had been working overtime for some reason. I could barely keep up with my reports to Wolfram and Hart. I mean, apocalypse cult destroyed here, vampire nest cleaned out there, possessed teenage berserkers cleansed over here…I was running from sundown to sun up all damn night for a week. So I said the hell with this, I’m not going to follow her, I’m not going to report in tonight, I’m just going to go to the Bronze and have a few beers, maybe dance with a cute girl, and relax. I mean, I don’t get paid very much by the lawyers, and seriously, do they really need to know another three vamps got dusted in a back alley?

So anyways, I was sitting at a table at the Bronze. I was watching the dance floor, not looking for a meal, because I ate before I came, but just enjoying myself. I was just finishing my second Budweiser when I saw her. The Slayer. Wearing this tiny shiny midriff shirt and some tight ass leather pants. I was reminded that DAMN, she’s hot, but DAMN is she deadly. I’m sure that any second now she’d whip out a stake from somewhere and launch it at my heart, so I hurriedly stand up, turn and make my way for the door. I’m not using my vampire speed, cause that would make me stand out something fierce, just another mortal in a rush to beat the reaper home for another night. I come around a corner away from the dance floor and suddenly I’m falling. Arms flailing, nonexistent heartbeat racing, I slam into the floor. I’m dead, the Slayer got me.

But no. I had just run smack dab into this amazingly lickable redhead. We’re tangled up on the floor, both of us wearing looks of surprise. I apologized, like I said, wasn’t there for food, and pulled myself to my feet. I then helped her up. The blood scent off her was different. More heady. I knew there was something about her…but not what. Never did figure it out, till just now. A witch, huh? Must have been untrained then, because I know what a witch smells like.

I offered to buy her a drink. She smiled, so cute when she does, and we retired to a table. We talked, and I got to know her. Willow Rosenberg is a babbling machine. In twenty minutes, I learned about Oz, Tara, Xander, Anya, Giles, Cordelia, and the Jewish faith. I must have had a dazed look, because she finally laughed and asked me about myself.

I told her I was an independent consultant for a law firm in LA, I had lived in Sunnydale for the last four years, talked about my family for a little while, and that I was on a very strict diet. She laughed at that. I was skinny already, she told me. I smiled back, and asked her if she had any plans for after the club closed.

You look worried, my new friend. Do I have to remind you that I wasn’t there for food? I didn’t want to eat this mortal, not yet anyways. Vampires get horny too, you know, and she…damn, just no words to describe her. Well, ok, yummy, fuckable, and gorgeous do come to mind, but you seem troubled by my saying that. But then again, it would probably worry you more that I was thinking of turning her that night.

Unfortunately, she did have plans with her friends Buffy and Xander. Buffy? BUFFY? I was a little freaked. Yeah, Buffy. The fucking Slayer herself. Willow wanted to introduce me to everyone; they were over on the dance floor, or at the table right outside it. I stammered, because I knew that Buffy would recognize me for what I am and slay me immediately. I still took a few timid steps after Willow, going to my doom, I was sure, but unable to stop myself from trailing her.

I hate cell phones, but that night my cell saved my unlife. It was Lyle, my pet lawyer, wondering what I was doing, since I hadn’t bothered to call the office. I spoke with him for a few moments, telling him that it was my night off, damn it, and I was busy. He sighed and told me to call him after first light and hung up. I argued with my phone for a few moments, pretending to fight against being called in, then hung up angrily. I apologized to Willow. I had to go to work, I told her. It wasn’t fair, but if I could just get her phone number…

Sadly, she declined giving me the number. I left on trembling legs, sweating slightly from my close brush with a stake. I was so shaken up I went down the way a bit, bought myself a hooker, had my way with her, then killed her and took my money back. I felt cheap, but at least the edge was gone. I’ve seen her a few times since then, always at the Bronze, never alone, damned Slayer, but we’ve never clicked like we did that night.

I haven’t seen her at the Bronze lately, and she was talking about returning to college last time we did speak. Maybe she’s left Sunnydale? You doubt it huh? Well, you never know.



I tell ya, the more I write this guy, the more amusing I find him. And yes, in case you're wondering, I DO know who my vampire is talking to. It isn't me. Till I post again! Beodel