The Deep End.

Title: The Deep End.

Series: Postcards From the Edge of the Hellmouth Part Four.

Author: Ligeia.

Feedback welcome on ligeia@telstra.com

Episode tie-in: BtVS Season One: The Harvest.

Rating: Low level violence.

Distribution: Anywhere. I like to share! Just email me the address.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, David Greenwalt Productions, 20th Century Fox and whoever else may have a hold upon them. I do not mean to infringe upon any copyrights. Julia Devereaux is my own creation.

Postcards From the Edge of the Hellmouth Part Four: The Deep End.

‘Rupert, I’m so sorry. I feel really awful about it.’

Giles came down the stairs from his small office behind the book stacks as his assistant prepared to lock up the library at the end of the school day. Lifting her jacket off the coat rack, she turned to wait for him to join her.

‘Don’t worry, Julia, it couldn’t have been helped. It was all over in a matter of minutes anyway.’ Giles picked up his brown leather satchel from the library’s front counter and they headed out of the school buil int into the early afternoon sunshine. ‘I must admit, young Buffy has certainly lived up to Merrick’s estimation of her.’ Giles paused, blinking in the strong light as he looked across the expanse of the school grounds for any sign of Buffy and the others. As they strolled along the covered walkway beside the main building he turned his attention back to Julia. ‘You were very lucky not to have been hurt.’ He looked concerned and Julia reassured him with a smile. ‘How’s your car by the way?’

‘I dropped it off at the garage this morning,’ Julia said. ‘A little panel beating and a new headlight, it’ll be fine.’

On her way to join Buffy and the others at the Bronze last night, Julia had encountered three vampires fleeing the scene following the abortive attempt by the Master to free himself from the Hellmouth during the Harvest. She told Giles this morning about the skirmish that ensued, with Angel appearing in the nick of time to help fight off the akerskers. She did not tell him about the knife-wound she had suffered or that she had returned with Angel to his apartment behind the Bronze to attend to the injury.

For some reason, she was not sure why, a dea decided not mention the fact that Angel had called out to the blonde female vampire by name. ‘Darla’, he had said, the name articulated with a disquieting familiarity.

‘Even though you missed the main event,’ Giles continued, ‘Buffy wouldn’t have made it there in time without the reference you provided. It gave me the means to calculate the precise moment of the Harvest.’

‘Oh, which one was it?’ she asked.

‘The Orsini Grimoire. Absolutely fine piece of detective work on your part, my dear.’

‘Orsini Grimoire?’ Julia sounded puzzled. ‘I didn’t get to that volume before I left last night. I didn’t read any of the 16th century Italian volumes. I certainly never wrote any reference to it.’

‘Well, it was in your notes.’

‘I didn’t write it.’

Julia seemed insistent but Giles was unconcerned; both of them had been bone-weary from long hours scouring books and scrolls for the exact day and hour of the Harvest. After two full days spent poring with unremitting concentration over a hundred different volumes in more than a dozen ancient and modern languages, it was not surprising that one specific reference did not immediately spring to Julia’s mind.

Stepping out of the door to the science wing, Willow gave a cheery ‘Hi!’, hoisted up an armload of text books and joined them in the walk towards the school gates. Julia flashed the little redhead a welcoming smile; she had already developed a soft spot for the girl. Willow reminded Julia in some ways of herself at that age – bright, inquisitive but vulnerable and socially isolated.

Willow and the other kids hardly seemed disturbed at all by the events of the previous night. In fact, they treated it as some kind of great adventure. As for Julia, she was still deeply troubled by Willow and Xander’s involvement with Buffy, or more accurately, with the vampires of Sunnydale. Neither student was really capable of defending themselves in actual combat but it was far too late to remedy the situation now; their future involvement seemed unavoidable. Giles had agreed to allow them to contribute in a controlled manner, preferably from the sidelines if possible.

Perhaps it’s best that they’re aware of the situation after all, thought Julia. At least that way they can exercise some caution.

Julia caught sight of Buffy walking along a path to their left, crossing the newly mown grass to meet them while Xander approached from the opposite direction. Cordelia sat by the railing talking to one of her sycophantic girlfriends who was hanging on her every word. Buffy halted nearby, taking a red lollipop out of her mouth as she stood listening to the exchange. Not that Cordelia had much to say; as with most of the teenage patrons of the Bronze, her memory of the night’s events seemed mercifully unclear.

Xander and Buffy reached the walkway ae sae same time. They bounded up the steps together, Xander giving the Slayer a sardonic grin; he had overheard Cordelia’s comments too.

‘What exactly were you expecting?’ Buffy asked, popping the cherry flavoured sweet back in her mouth.

‘I don’t know,’ the boy responded. ‘Something! I mean, the dead rose. We should at least have had an assembly!’

Buffy and Xander fell into step with the other three.

‘People have a tendency to rationalise what they can,’ Giles offered, ‘and forget what they can’t.’

‘Believe me, I’ve seen it happen.’ Buffy was secretly pleased that Xander and Willow had discovered her identity as the Vampire Slayer. She had been worried at first that they might get hurt, or at the very least, get in the way, but they had both proved themselves to be worthy comrades as far as she was concerned. And it was a relief having someone her own age to confide in. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like such a freak at this new school after all.

‘The Hellmouth has a secondary effect of lowering people’s levels of disbelief so that extraordinary things may seem, if not normal, tat lat least tolerable,’ Julia explained. ‘It makes ordinary people open to ideas or situations that would normally be impossible to accept. As Giles said, time tends to blur things around the edges.’ Unfortunately, Julia knew, this abnormal tolerance of the supernatural could also result in an upsurge of paranormal and occult activity among an otherwise conventional population.

‘Well, I’ll never forget it!’ Willow exclaimed.

‘Good,’ Giles said. ‘Next time you’ll be prepared.’

‘Next time?’ howled Willow and Xander together.

‘ “Next time” is why?’

Julia smiled at Willow’s suddenly-less-certain tone and looked to Giles to respond.

‘Well,’ he began, rubbing his still-tired eyes, ‘we prevented the Master from freeing himself and opening the mouth of hell. That’s not to say he’s going to stop trying.’ Giles’s voice suddenly brightened. ‘I’d say the fun is just beginning!’

Willow groaned. ‘More vampires?’

Julia noticed Giles getting that familiar ‘faraway’ look in his eye. He was warming to the subject!

‘Not just vampires! The next threat we face may be something quite different!’

‘A Hellmouth not only provides a portal for beings from other dimensions,’ Julia added, ‘but attracts all kinds of paranormal creatures from our own world too. Like a streetlamp attracts night flying insects,’ she paused for dramatic effect, ‘and the things that feed on them.’ The rest of the group looked at her gloomily, quietly considering the grim metaphor.

Buffy took the lollipop out once more. ‘I can hardly wait!’ she piped cheerfully, breaking the tension.

‘We are at the centre of a mystical convergence here. We may, in fact, stand between the earth and its total destruction . . .’ Giles was getting dreamy again. He was completely in his element at last, finally doing what a lifetime of Watcher training had prepared him for. And, by George, he was going to enjoy every minute of it!

‘Well, I gotta look on the bright side,’ Buffy continued. ‘Maybe I can still get kicked out of school!’

‘Oh, yeah, that’s a plan,’ Xander feigned disbelief, ‘cause lots of schools aren’t on Hellmouths!’

Arriving at the path leading off to the staff car park, Giles and Julia slowed, allowing the others to walk on, watching and listening as the young people moved away.

Willow was suggesting, helpfullMaybMaybe you could blow something up! They’re really strict about that.’

‘I was thinking of a more subtle approach,’ Buffy mused. ‘Ynow,now, like excessive not studying.’ Willow giggled and Xander rolled his eyes.

Giles adjusted his glasses and turned back towards Julia, remarking, not entirely unhappily, ‘The earth is doomed!’

*****

Julia stood in front of the bathroom mirror at home and lifted her blouse to check the wound she had suffered in the fight the night before. Peeling back the surgical dressing she examined the small scab that was all that remained from the deep gash she had received at the hand of a switchblade-wielding vampire.

Julia thought back to the time, almost three years ago, when she first realised the full extent of her body’s powers of regeneration. She had returned to England after several years in Canada on Watchers Council business that had become, regrettably, very personal business.

Driving a friend’s Austin Healey back to London after a weekend in the country, Julia had been injured when a drunk driver struck the little car. As she headed along a winding stretch of narrow road several miles north of London, the other driver’s four-wheel-drive Range Rover hurtled out of a side-road, became airborne as it ran off the dirt surface of the laneway, hit a ditch and ended up with its front wheels resting on the smaller car’s driver’s side bonnet.

It was 3.00 a.m. Other than the two cars involved the road was deserted. Julia staggered out of her car, the metal of the crumpled door screaming as she forced it open, cradling a broken arm. The other driver was barely conscious, moaning and bleeding from a gash on the head. Petrol ran in a steady stream from under the larger vehicle and pooled under the rear tyre.

She reached up to pull open the door beside the injured driver. Resting the door against her shoulder to keep it open, Julia reached up with her good arm, encouraging the man to roll towards her so she could ease him out of the wreckage. As he struggled forward his foot kicked a lit cigarette from where it had dropped to the floor of the car and out onto the road below. With a low ‘whoosh’ the petrol caught fire, the flames licking up against Julia’s stockinged leg, melting the nylon and causing a severe burn.

Once she had helped the injured man onto a safe spot on the grassy verge of the road, Julia used her cell phone to call for help. By the time she arrived at the emergency room of the local hospital she could feel that the broken bone in her forearm was already mended. The burned area, which had been blistered and weeping when the ambulance arrived, was now peeling off thick scraps of dead skin under which a thin layer of new pink flesh appeared. It looked like a bad sunburn and felt about as painful. Two days later it was just a pale patch on her honey-coloured skin.

Since then, she had discovered that the speed of her recovery depended upon the severity of the damage. Serious wounds to major organs repaired themselves almost within seconds, broken bones, burns and gashes might take minutes or hours, while bruises or minor cuts healed at an almost normal rate. It was one of the advantages of her altered metabolism. This meant that any injuries Julia suffered had to be hidden from doctors or friends who might ask uncomfortable questions about her condition. Unfortunately, the accelerated healing did not decrease tain ain of the original injury.

Julia ran her fingertips across the rounded scab of the recent knife-wound causing it to slough off, leaving the skin fully healed, smooth and white underneath.

*****

The following night was Saturday and Julia had a date. Back in England she had cut herself off from most social contacts. Her parents and brother all lived overseas and her odd working hours alienated her from old friends aamilamily alike. She had allowed her affiliation with the Watchers Council to dominate her life when she was first recruited, then withdrew further from old associations when she left the Council under a cloud and decided to go her own way. Now that she was settled here in Sunnydale for at least the next two years, Julia intended to have as much of a normal life as she could outside of work.

Paul was a student at Sunnydale College in the final months of a teaching degree. He was tall, quiet and definitely good looking, with deep blue eyes and unruly auburn hair. Most importantly, he had absolutely no interest in anything Hellmouthy!

Julia was finishing her second glass of wine, admiring Paul’s easy walk and quick smile as he made his way through the crowd to the bar at the Bronze to order another round of drinks, when she was startled by a familiar voice.

‘Isn’t there a law against that?’

She looked around to see Angel settling himself into the empty chair beside her, turning the seat around so he could lean on the chair-back.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Julia was instantly annoyed. This mysterious, intense young man stirred her emotions in unexpected ways. Usually well in control of herself, Julia disliked the odd effect he had on her; she felt strangely out of her depth whenever he was around. Angel’s cool arrogance constantly challenged her. After several encounters she still knew almost nothing about him while he adopted a cheeky familiarity that Julia found increasingly irritating.

‘I didn’t think you’d be allowed to date schoolboys,’ Angel grinned lasciviously.

Julia was flustered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a college student!’ She could feel her cheeks starting to colour. ‘Besides, I’m not a teacher; I’m just a librarian.’ Her face was burning now. Angel’s grin broadened as her discomfort grew. ‘Not that it’s any of your business!’

Angel glanced over to the bar where Paul was about tder der their drinks. ‘Not really your type, is he?’

Julia almost squirmed in her seat, biting back a furious response and gritting her teeth in frustration.

‘There’s a lot to be said for younger men,’ Julia replied stiffly. ‘No complications, no expectations.’

‘Not much of a future in it, I wouldn’t have thought.’

‘So what? Who said anything about a future? Maybe I’m just out for a good time.’ Angel had inadvertently hit upon a sensitive topic. Julia twirled the stem of her wineglass, desperately trying to think of a way to steer the conversation to a more comfortable subject. Unsuccessfully.

‘Ah!’ Angel was enjoying the game and not about to let the matter slide. ‘But I thought women these days wanted secure, long term relationships?’ He plucked the wineglass from her fingers, draining the last dregs of the sweet red.

Julia, bemused, gave an explosive laugh. ‘What century are you from?’

‘Well now,’ Angel replied, a thinner smile on his lips. ‘That is a topic for another time.’

‘What are you doing here anyway?’ Julia asked.

‘I live here,’ he offered sarcastically. Julia glared.

‘Okay, okay!’ Angel smiled. ‘I wanted to check that you were alright after the other night.’

‘I’m fine. Still a little sore, that’s all,’ Julia lied. ‘I told you it wasn’t as bad as it looked.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Angel sounded unconvinced. He had seen the wound; it was deed had had bled profusely.

‘Seeing you’ve brought up the subject, I was curious about something that happened that night.’

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘The little blonde vampire with the trio that attacked me – you called her Darla,’ Julia leaned forward as Angel finally dropped his dark gaze from hers for the first time since he had sat down. ‘Is she the reason you’re here in Sunnydale?’

Now it was Angel’s turn to feel uncomfortable. Julia pressed the advantage; she needed to know more about this young man who was on first-name terms with at least one member of Sunnydale’s vampire population – and had access to the Slayer.

‘She seemed to know you too.’ As the vampire girl had started to run off, she had looked back at Angel with a look of pure hatred – and real surprise.

‘Oh, she knows me well enough.’

‘Did she kill someone close to you?’

‘In a way.’

Julia paused, the asked quietly, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’

Oh, great! Julia thought to herself. He’s going all ‘laconic’ on me again! This approach obviously wasn’t going anywhere and Paul was on his way back to the table with fresh drinks.

‘Look,’ Julia sighed, ‘as much as I enjoy these cryptic little conversations of ours, I am on a date, so if you don’t mind . . . ‘

‘Fine.’ Angel rose, swinging the chair around to face the table again. ‘I don’t want to be a spare wheel.’

Julia laughed again, genuinely amused this time. ‘Ts “ts “third” wheel! But I appreciate the sentiment.’ Paul was almost there. ‘Now, please . . . go!’ Angel rose and headed for the stairs that led outside to his apartment.

Paul placed two glasses of wine on the table between himself and Julia. Taking his seat again he asked, ‘Who was that guy?’

‘Just someone I know from work.’ Julia continued to stare after Angel’s departing figure. If only I’d had more time, she thought. Maybe he would have opened up and finally told me something about himself.

Suddenly, she made a decision. ‘Paul, there’s something I have to do.’ Julia stood up, still looking in the direction Angel had gone. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’ Not waiting for her date’s response, she threaded her way through the crowded dance floor, up the stairs to the mezzanine and out the second storey back door.

Angel was waiting in the darkness on the walkway outside. He tapped the face of his watch, that infuriating grirmlirmly back in place.

‘Four and a half minutes! You almost disappointed me!’

Julia’s concern quickly dissolved into the increasingly familiar, now almost obligatory, sense of exasperation one one got to her like Angel and she resented his ability to manipulate her emotions so readily.

‘You’re pretty bloody sure of yourself, aren’t you?’ she snapped.

‘Actually,’ he replied with a smile, ‘it’s you I’m sure of.’

‘And just what is that supposed to mean?’ Julia was used to being the one in control, especially where men were concerned . . . being the mysterious one. Now the tables were turned she didn’t know how to behave and it made her defensive.

‘Your curiosity,’ Angel continued, unfazed. ‘It’s gotten you into trouble several times already, but you just can’t let things go, can you?’

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here in Sunnydale or not!’

‘No.’ Angel grabbed Julia’s arm as she spun around, ready to storm off back into the Bronze. Turning her around to face him again he said, ‘I need to talk to you about Buffy.’

*****

They spoke quietly and intently for almost half an hour, Angel sincere for once but still guarded, refusing to answer most of Julia’s questions about his past. He did, however, manage to convince her that he meant the Slayer no harm. In fact, Angel seemed to have found a new purpose, a cause he could dedicate himself to, by aligning himself with the forces for good here at the Hellmouth. Just what this commitment meant to him and to what extent it had already changed him, Julia could not possibly know, but his fervour was apparent and unmistakably real.

Angel’s original purpose had been solely to ensure that the Harvest was averted. He admitted to providing the information Giles needed to calculate the Time of the Harvest by slipping a note into the files Julia had been working on that night. He had fully intended to move on after addressing his ‘personal issues’ with the vampires he had come here to confront. But now Angel found in himself the stirring of an enthusiasm he had not experienced in years; the chance to put right a greater wrong, to do something selfless, and he had vowed to see things through to completion regardless of the outcome of his own agenda.

Whether his passion was truly for ‘fighting the good fight’ or was derived from an entirely different set of stimuli, an infatuation with Buffy for instance, was something that concerned Julia deeply but she could not deny that his experience as a vampire fighter had already proved invaluable.

*****

In the alley behind the Bronze, hidden in the deepest shadows below the fire escape on which Angel and Julia stood absorbed in their conversation, a slight figure stood wrapped in darkness both physical and spiritual.

As Darla listened to Angel’s declaration of resolve, her anger grew. Her childe was misguided, his impulsiveness and foolish recklessness not diminished by the restoration of his human soul. Darla had coldly turned from him when the taint of his humanity became more than she could bear but had never ceased to regret the loss of her favourite. She would gladly take him back again if only he would prove himself worthy. Would any mother do less? But for now, he was deluded and must be punished. Angel . . . and anyone he c for for. Only then could Darla be certain he was truly, and utterly, hers.

* *****

When Julia finally got back to her table, Paul had already left. A message, written on a coaster and propped up against her drink, said ‘Sorry, couldn’t wait ay longer. I’ll call you.’ Somehow, she didn’t think this was likely. Picking up her coat and purse, Julia headed home. Alone.

*****

It was mid-way through the school week and Julia had finally had been able to spend some time with Buffy, training together each day after classes were over. Working out with Buffy was a joy. Julia’s own physical abilities were well outside normal parameters but with Buffy there was no need to hold back. She was no match for Buffy but Julia found it surprisingly satisfying to test herself against a tough opponent and really have to push herself.

At first Julia worried that Buffy might find her exceptional speed and strength suspicious but the younger girl seemed to accept it readily. I don’t think she fully understands the extent of her own extraordinary gifts, Julia thought.

Buffy had power and stamina but her technique was a little laid-back. After a half-hour session of weapons training Julia was perspiring heavily and breathing in ragged, painful gasps. The little Slayer hardly broke a sweat and continued to chat as though she was taking a casual stroll in the park instead of wielding an eight-pound battle-axe. Damnit! Julia thought, momentarily distracted and almost failing to duck a high swing, does the girl never shut up! Too exhausted now even to call out instructions, Julia had spent the past few minutes just staying out of the teenager’s way.

Holding up a hand in protest, Julia finally called the session to a halt.

‘Well done, Buffy. You’re really getting a feel for that axe. You can try the double-bit throwing axe tomorrow. There’s room to practice out in the woods behind my place.’ Julia took a long drink from her water bottle then splashed a little on her face, towelling off the water and sweat before collapsing on the bench seat by the weapons cabinet. ‘If you continue to progress at this rate we might start on some other projectile weapons soon. Throwing knives perhaps, or shuriken.’

‘What about the crossbow!’ Buffy exclaimed excitedly.

‘Perhaps.’ Julia was non-committal. ‘In time …’ She removed the chest protector, which was the only safety gear she wore when sparring with Buffy. Full protection was too bulky; she needed all her manoeuvrability simply to keep up.

‘Cool!’ Buffy walked over to the arsenal and took down an antique crossbow about ten inches long. It had an ornate silver bow and firing mechanism with a polished wood pistol grip designed to be used single-handed. Both the bow and grip were highly decorated with hunting scenes from long ago. ‘How about this one?’

‘Well, I was thinking something a little more heavy-duty for you, my girl. That’s a single-shot and, while it’s cute, it’s a bugger to reload in a hurry.’

‘Giles said he doesn’t think I’m ready for the crossbow yet.’

‘Well, he is your Watcher so it’s his decision.’

‘But you think I’m ready, right?’

‘I didn’t say that, Buffy. I said if your progress warrants it. Anyway, it’s not my call; I can only recommend.’

‘Well, will you?’ Buffy persisted. Julia didn’t answer immediately. ‘Go ahead,’ the teenager prompted, ‘be brutal.’

‘It’s obvious you have considerable natural talent in hand-to-hand combat but frankly, you need more discipline.’ Buffy looked disappointed, but Julia continued. ‘You have to understand, Buffy, most girls raised to be Slayers have had several years training by your age; you’ve had less than a year. A crossbow isn’t like a stake or even an axe, where you’re up close and personal; it’s death at a distance and no second chances. You can’t afford to make mistakes.’

‘Merrick would have let me.’

Realising what she had said, Buffy mentally bit her tongue. ‘Sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘You knew him too, didn’t you?’

After a pause, Julia answered. ‘Merrick brought me into the Council of Watchers. He was my mentor, and Rupert’s too, for many years.’

‘It wasn’t my fault he died you know,’ Buffy added defensively.

‘I never suggested it was.’

‘It’s what you think though, isn’t it? I can tell.’ Deep down, Buffy believed it was so, and would always blame herself for the death of her first Watcher.

‘What I think,’ Julia said, getting up from the bench, ‘is that we’d better get all this equipment stowed away so you can get home before your Mum starts to worry.’

Placing the crossbow back on the wall rack, Buffy noticed a small shield-shaped crest on the butt of the grip. It showed a pair of winged helms and an orouboros – a dragon swallowing its own tail. ‘What’s this mean?’ she asked.

‘That’s the family crest of the original owner, Erzibet Bathory. The piece is early 17th century; Belgian I think. I picked it up from a specialist collector last time I was in London.’

‘Bathory, huh? Why does that sound familiar?’

‘Erzibet, or Elizabeth, Bathory is supposed to have used the d ofd of virgins to keep herself young and beautiful.’

‘She was a vampire?’

‘No, not in the sense you mean; not a real one. Just some deluded madwoman, a human mass-murderer. She killed for vanity not for survival.’

Buffy turned around to look at Julia. ‘Does that make a difference?’

‘I guess not,’ Julia said. ‘Somehow, it just seems more, well . . . indefensible, for a human to do such horrible things. Vampires are demons; they feed on another species to live, not for reasons as trivial as personal gain.’

Buffy was shocked. ‘Surely you don’t think what vampires do is . . . justified!’

‘No, of course not. It’s still murder. Vampires that kill have to be destroyed.’

‘Now I’m confused! Don’t all vampires kill humans?’

This was shaky ground for Julia; she had known many vampires who no longer killed to feed but none who had never done so. It was a philosophical discussion she had no intention of getting into with Buffy; it could only cloud the Slayer’s purpose to question the morality of her call And And that could prove fatal. Julia settled for the undeniable truth and left her own doubts out of it.

‘Yes, Buffy. Every vampire I know of has killed humans.’

*****

Julia went down to the pool to take a swim before going home. Sunnydale High was a small institution with mediocre basketball, football and track teams but the swim team had traditionally been leading lights of the school’s athletic programme and therefore a focal point for sports funding. The school had a huge indoor stadium with an Olympic sized pool, fully heated year-round.

Julia had arranged with the maintenance staff to leave the main doors to the stadium open until they were ready to leave for the evening. She usually had at least anr afr after training before the building was finally closed up for the night.

Coming out of the teachers’ locker rooms Julia noticed that one of the small windows up near the ceiling was open. Thinking the janitor must have left it open, she made a mental note to close it after finishing her swim. She placed her towel, along with the Serpent’s Tooth dagger, by one of the starting blocks at the far end of the pool. Since arriving in Sunnydale she carried the silver blade with her everywhere.

Julia slipped into the water, grateful for the soothing warmth against her tired muscles. She swam a few lazy lengths of the pool, then did a couple underwater, wondering how long she could remain under if she had to. Several minutes at least, she thought; she was tempted to put herself to the test but afraid that someone might see her and think she was in trouble.

Last time she experimented with this particular ability, she had been lying at the bottom of a bath in a hotel room in London. In the enveloping heat she had nodded off, only to wake up spluttering after being disturbed by a noise in the next room. She had taken a deep breath to call out ‘Who’s there!’ and succeeded in scaring the living daylights out of the housemaid who had come in to change the towels.

Julia was swimming a final lap underwater when the lights went off. Suddenly she found herself floating in almost total darkness, momentarily disorientated until her eyesight adjusted to the faint moonlight shining in through the row of tiny windows near the ceiling.

‘I’m still here!’ she called out, thinking the janitor had not realised she was in the pool and turned off the lights but there was no answer. Julia began heaving herself out of the water when she heard the slight click of the latch as the doors were closed. Then someone was moving around the room.

‘Who’s in here?’ voi voice was steady, her nerves less so. Lowering herself back into the pool Julia started swimming, as quietly as possible, towards her towel . . . and the knife.

Whoever was in the in room seemed unhampered by the almost pitch darkness; confident footsteps pattered from the doorway to the end of the swimming pool.

Treading water in the middle of the pool, Julia could just distinguish a darker figure against the shadowy backdrop of brick walls. Someone was leaning down near where she had left her things.

A sudden cry was followed by the clatter of metal on the tiles surrounding the pool. The figure stepped back quickly, now standing in the faint radiance of the open window. It was the blonde vampire - Darla! She cradled her right hand, which was still smoking from its contact with the pure metal of the Serpent’s Tooth.

Julia was less apprehensive now; a single vampire she could handle. She swam towards the undead intruder but stopped short of the end of the pool. The vampire wore the stolen school uniform of a teenager wad bad been found dead in the park a few days after Julia had arrived in Sunnydale.

‘What do you want, Darla?’

‘So, you remember me! I’m flattered!’ Darla stepped to the edge of the pool and hunkered down. She flashed Julia a tight smile, revealing a predator’s grin in the gloom, her partially transformed features a clear indication that she meant business. ‘I’m not here to fight you. Not tonight anyway,’ she said.

Julia turned herself in the water, keeping her eyes on the vampire as she rose and moved around to the other side, leaving room for Julia to exit the pool if she wished. Julia made no attempt to do so.

‘So why are you here?’

‘Why don’t you come out of there and we can talk . . .’ Darla’s eyes glinted in the shadows, reflecting the tiny ripples in the water’s surface, ‘. . . woman to woman.’ She took a few steps back from the edge of the pool, giving Julia plenty of space.

Deciding it was best not to show any weakness in front of the deadly little blonde, Julia grasped the handrails and quickly hauled herself up onto the cold tiles.

‘So . . . talk.’

Darla began to pace back and forth in the darkness a few yards from Julia but made no attempt to come any closer.

‘I understand you had a very interesting little chat with my boy Angel recently.’

Julia was confused and disturbed by this. Was Angel in contact with Darla? Had he told her about their conversation? If so, just what was he playing at?

‘I guess that’s no secret. Why does it concern you?’ Perhaps Darla was bluffing; Julia would give nothing away.

Darla sprang forward with such unexpected rapidity that Julia instinctively took a step backward.

‘Keep away from Angel!’ Darla’s face had fully transformed. There was less than an arm’s length between them now. ‘I’m only going to warn you once!’

‘Why are you bothering to warn me at all?’ Julia stood her ground now.

‘Let’s just put it down to professional courtesy . . .’ Darla had relaxed her features back to normal, ‘. . . vampire to vampire-hunter.’ She smiled again, tiny fangs still visible. ‘It’s more sporting that way.’

Julia didn’t believe this for a moment; there was something else going on here. Let’s see if I can stir the waters a little, she thought, see what surfaces.

‘What did you do to Angel to make him hate you?’

Darla’s smile broadened. ‘You could say I made him the man he is today.’

‘Is Angel here to hunt you?’

Darla’s smile slowly faded. ‘Maybe I’m here to hunt him.’

‘You intend to kill him?’

‘No,’ Darla gave a husky little laugh, ‘it’s far too late for that.’

‘What then?’ Julia was growing tired of these unfathomable dialogues she seemed to be having with everyone lately.

‘He has something I want . . . ‘ Darla was advancing slowly, ‘. . . something I gave him a long time ago. And now I want it back.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘You’re interfering . . .‘ She stood almost face-to-face with Julia now. ‘He tells you things. . . things about us. He likes you . . . He listens to you.’ Darla was almost hissing now, her narrowed eyes glowing cat-yellow.

‘I doubt that.’ Julia also backed up and was standing with her heels on the edge of the pool. ‘What difference does it make to you anyway?’

Darla ignored the question. ‘You and that little Slayer!’ Her lips parted, white fangs showing now. ‘But I have something special I mind for her. And her meddling Watcher!’

Julia’s own anger was growing. It was one thing for this undead bitch to menace her, and danger was par for the course for the Slayer, but the threat to Giles made Julia’s blood boil. One Watcher had already been lost to this assignment; she’d be damned if Giles was going to be the second!

Moving so quickly that Darla did not have the chance to protest, let alone resist, Julia reached out and grabbed the collar of her shirt, falling back into the water and pulling the surprised vampire in with her.

Underwater, Darla transformed fully, using her unnatural strength to push herself away. Julia swam the few yards to the end of the pool where her dagger fell after Darla had dropped it. Reaching up to grasp the hilt, Julia was relieved to find that the tip was undamaged. She slipped back into the water just as Darla, hampered by her uniform, struggled to haul herself out of the pool.

Grasping Darla by the back of her pleated skirt, Julia positioned her feet against the wall of the pool and threw herself backwards, dragging Darla back in. With her hand still holding onto the skirt’s waistband, Julia rolled herself on top of the now-furious vampire, pressing her, face down, to the bottom of the pool. Flattening her hand against the small of Darla’s back, Julia sank the dagger in up to the hilt.

Darla kicked and thrashed, a stream of bubbles, silvery in the darkness, escaping as she screamed with anger beneath the water. Julia had missed her heart but a steam of blood poured out of the wound as she drew out the blade, black and viscous as squid-ink in the darkness.

Gaining purchase with feet and hands against the bottom of the pool, Darla righted herself begabegan to tread water, the predatory smile back in place, eerie in the rippling murkiness of the water. Suddenly she dove forward, ramming Julia hard against the edge of the pool. Before she could recover, Darla’s hands were around her throat; Julia’s own hands instinctively reaching up to tear Darla’s away.

Seizing the T-shaped guard below the hilt of the dagger Darla tore it out of Julia’s hand, ignoring the searing pain in her own, intent only on doing damage to her opponent. She slashed at Julia, who tried to kick herself away, the thrust catching her in the top of the thigh, slicing deep into the muscle. Their blood mixed in the water.

Julia managed to reach up and take hold of the metal rail on one side of the pool, hauling herself up and out of the indigo water as Darla swam away, emerging from the opposite side.

Bright light flooded into one side of the room as the main doors were unexpectedly thrown open, shocking both women into immobility after the intensity of their struggle in the dark silence of the water.

‘Julia? Are you in here? Did you still want that lift home?’

It was Giles! She had asked him to drive her home after school until her car was repaired.

‘Giles! Don’t come in!’

Julia glanced across the pool at Darla who began circling around the edge of the pool again, towards her and the main doorway. Darla no longer held the Serpent’s Tooth dagger, having let it drop to the floor of the pool before climbing out.

‘Why on earth do you have the lights off?’ Giles reached around the flick on the light switch by the doors.

‘Giles, just stay where you are!’

This time her caught the urgency in her voice and did as Julia said.

Darla had not advanced further but stood by the starting blocks at the far end of the pool. Her features had returned to ‘normal’ and she was smiling once again.

‘You know, I was thinking . . . perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way after all. Maybe if Angel gets what he wants, I’ll get what I want!’

She turned and ran for the tiny open window at the end of the room, easily leaping twelve or so feet straight up, wriggled through the two-feet square opening and disappeared into the night.

As Giles entered the room, Julia quickly wrapped her towel around her waist, covering the already-healing cut on her upper leg.

‘What the hell is going on in here?’ Giles’s voice was full of concern. ‘I heard voices. Who else is with you?’ He spotted the blood clouding the water and turned to her with alarm. ‘Are you all right?’

Now that the danger was past, Julia felt shaken and exhausted. She began to tremble with the cold and shock. Giles slipped off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

‘It was Darla, the female vampire I told you about; the one Buffy fought at the cemetery and who attacked me on the Night of the Harvest.’

‘You have been injured!’ Giles noticed a thin trail of blood trickling down Julia’s leg, forming a watery pink puddle at her feet. He looked from her to the traces of blood not yet dispersed in the pool.

‘I’m OK, Rupert. Really. It looks far worse than it is; the blood’s not all mine.’

Giles looked unconvinced. ‘What did she want with you?’

‘Damned if I know,’ Julia answered truthfully. ‘Look, why don’t you see if you can find the janitor and get him to close that window then we’ll all head out to the car park together, just in case Darla’s still hanging around. I’ll get changed and meet you in the hallway.’

Once Giles had left, Julia slipped into the pool one more time to retrieve her dagger, wondering again just what Darla was up to and what she intended to do next. She would warn Giles about the vampire’s threats to all of them, not that they could be any more on the alert than they were already.

As she quickly showered and dressed, Julia’s mind filled with doubts. What about her conversation with Angel? Julia hadn’t told Giles or Buffy anything about it. Should she do so now? Was Angel really involved somehow with Darla . . . other than wanting to kill her that is? How else did the vampire know about their exchange? Something had occurred between the two of them; they obviously had a history, but what? Most importantly, how might it affect Buffy?

Way too many questions, Julia thought, disquieted by some of the possibilities that sprang to mind. I’m going to have to go back to the source; demand that Angel tell me what’s really going on here.

Picking up her sports bag from the locker-room bench, Julia couldn’t help but wonder again why she felt the need to conceal her contacts with Angel.

I haven’t actually learned anything useful yet, have I? she told herself. So there’s really nothing to tell, is there? All he said was that he’s on our side . . . which may or may not be true. So, no news there.

Even so, Julia could not shake the feeling that, by keeping her contact with Angel a secret from Giles, she was already getting in too deep.

***** Fin *****