Beyond Friendship.

Prologue.

Damon Mitchell walked out of Sunnydale High school. Not giving it a second glance, he turned to the right, and started walking to the place where his mother lived. He walked on autopilot, his mind drifting back to what had happened in the last few months. He never had known his father, and it had never bothered him. For the first ten years of his life, Damon had lived with his mother. Sure, life hadn't been that hard, but people still claimed that she wasn't able to take care of him. It was not like she needed to go out and get a job. Damon's grandparents, her parents, had left him their entire estate, but their will had stated that his mother would receive a monthly allowance from the interest of that estate.

What do they know? Sure, all she does is drink, smoke, eat, and sit in front of the TV, but she wasn't abusive… still isn't, for that fact. She IS still my mother. Damon was beyond anger…he had passed that stage years ago. He knew that his aunt and uncle meant well, when they took him in. So, he had lived in Chicago for the next seven yeas of his life.

And now, suddenly, they decided they could no longer take care of him. Like some piece of left-over garbage no one wanted, Damon was shipped halfway across the country, to the place where his mother lived now: Sunnydale, California. Damon shook his head while thinking of the fact that the years hadn't been kind to his mother. She still held on to her steady routine of drinking and TV. Damon didn't care. He had always been independent, always had to be.

"Drink? Smoke?" Damon's mother offered as he sat down in the couch next to her. The small apartment was in twilight, illuminated only by the TV, its light refracting strangely on the thick clouds of cigarette smoke that hung in it.

"No, thanks," Damon answered automatically, focusing on the TV show. He didn't know the name of the show, but a smile decorated his lips at the antics of a group of friends. He especially like the woman named Phoebe. He liked her strange attitude towards life.

"Got in?" his mother asked, still focused on the show.

"Yep. Got some papers for you to sign. They're on the table."

Damon's mother nodded, her focus back on the TV. She let out a coughing, throaty laugh. "That Ross. He cranks me up," she muttered, more to herself than for Damon. He was used to it. When his mother watched TV, the world didn't exist to her.

When the show ended, Damon managed to get a couple more words in. "I'm going to try out for Football. I was good at it in Chicago."

"Good for you. Now, where are those papers you want me to sign?" his mother asked, staring around the dim room with eyes accustomed to watching TV.

Damon sighed, got up, and retrieved the papers. His mother signed them, without ever taking a glance at the forms. The next show was on. It didn't matter to Damon anymore. He was getting used to it. Uncle Bob and Aunt Tina had always shown great interest in anything he did, and Damon wanted someone to be interested in him now. But, over the last few months, he had more and more accepted the fact that he was basically on his own.

End of prologue.

This world is older than any of you know, and contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, Demons walked the earth; made it their home -- their Hell. In time they (the demons) lost their purchase on this reality, and the way was made for the mortal animals. For Man. What remains of the Old Ones are vestiges: certain magics, certain creatures… And Vampires.

Rupert Giles, Watcher, Librarian.

Buffy Summers was the Chosen One. The 'Slayer'. One girl in each generation was granted the strength and agility to fight the vampires, the Darkness that threatened to envelop the world. And Buffy hated the job. She had been thrown off her old school because she was forced to burn down its gym. Sure, it had destroyed the vampires inside, but the permanent mark on her record would never be extinguished. Now she had moved here. To Sunnydale.

Her parents were divorced now, her father staying behind, in Los Angeles. It was just her and her mother now. Buffy hated that part of the job more than anything: the secrecy. She constantly had to lie to her mother, to make excuses for the dropping grades, and the outbursts of violence that had followed her Calling. She was stronger now, faster. But what good was physical strength when your own mother looked at you as if you were going delinquent? She had always been their little girl, and now… she had been forced to grow up, make decisions, and it had culminated in the torched gym.

Buffy had decided there and then not to be involved with Slayer business anymore. She would bid farewell to the job, leave it for someone else. She wanted to become the girl again, not the Slayer.

Unfortunately, things didn't turn out as planned. No matter how much she had tried, her destiny kept chasing her. She had been assigned a new Watcher, and she had been sent out to do her duty. Buffy thought back of Merrick, her first Watcher. He had died protecting her… Buffy bit back the painful memory. her new Watcher, Rupert Giles, was the librarian at the High School she was now attending.

Buffy also thought of her new friends: Xander and Willow. They had become friends pretty soon, resulting in them finding out about her Calling. Buffy was glad that Giles, as she called him, had allowed them to stay. She could use some company.

The red-haired Willow was the quiet one of the group. She was intelligent, and had a way with computers. She didn't talk much, but when she did, it was in her shy and quiet voice. As the first weeks passed Willow had come a little out of her shell because of the group she was in, as she felt supported, her confidence grew.

Xander was normality in person. Nobody really notices him, but he always wants to try and be seen as heroic. It either gets him into deep trouble, or makes him look like a clown.

A couple of weeks after the school year had started, Damon found himself walking down the hall to the lunch hall, along with a couple of his friends. After getting into the football team, Damon had been selected as quarterback. The previous quarterback was a senior, and was now in college. Accompanying Damon were Paul, Mika, and Grant. Paul and Mika were the halfbacks of the team, while Grant was one of the fullbacks. All three of them were seniors, while Damon was only a junior, but they didn't hold it against the younger man, since Damon grew up in Chicago.

Although Damon got along fine with everyone on the team, he still hung out most of his time with Paul, Mika, and Grant.

"So, what's for lunch today?" Paul asked Damon, knowing very well that the junior always ate the cafeteria food. Damon shrugged in answer.

"I'll take a look at the menu," the quarterback responded his older friend.

"Twenty bucks say you can finish the mystery meat platter," Mika taunted. He was a large black man, more a man than a High School student. Belying his big demeanor was his speed. Mika could run like the wind if he had to.

"You're on," Damon said, slapping his friend's hand.

"Fuck! You're nuts, man!" Grant shouted. "Don't do it!"

"Thanks for the concern," Damon said, giving him a smile.

"If you die, we'll have to get a new quarterback," Grant added, causing the friends to have a good laugh at Damon's expense.

"Funny guys. Real funny. You seem to forget I survived for seven years of cafeteria food in Chicago," Damon defended himself, smiling ruefully at his friends laughing. He liked these guys. He really did. Damon's smile became even more genuine as he remembered how it used to be in Chicago, with all the violence, the gangs, and the drugs. No, he definitely liked Sunnydale a lot better.

Damon got in line, and asked for the mystery meat platter. All around him, Damon detected 'oohs' and 'ahs' from students who had heard him place his order. Damon didn't understand why the platter was still on the menu if it was so bad. Deciding wholly on finding out what the problem was with the dish in question, Damon took his order, and sat down at the table, along with his three companions.

Suddenly, Grant got up. "Ladies and Gentlemen. Today, we have a challenger for the Mystery Meat platter. Let's hear it for Damon Mitchell!"

"Sit down, you oaf!" Damon muttered to his friend. He was too late, however, as people started cheering, applauding, and looking at him. Damon felt his head swell up like a balloon. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he forced himself to ignore the stares and the subdued whispering.

"What did you do that for?" Damon whispered.

"Everyone deserves to know you're going to eat that," Paul answered for Grant.

Damon shrugged, took his utensils, and started cutting into the slab of brownish substance that was supposed to be 'meat'.

Buffy Summers was sitting with his two friends, Willow and Xander, when she heard Grant calling out the challenge for the mystery meat. Willow and Xander looked somewhat disgruntled, and Buffy asked what the problem was.

"The mystery meat…it's sickening!" Xander exclaimed. "Last guy who tried it got sick."

"Yeah…he spent a lot of time in the nurse's office," Willow added.

"In that case, let's go watch," Buffy decided, getting up. "Come on, guys!" she added, when she saw her two friends remaining in their seats.

"Buffy…those are football players!" Willow tried to calm her friend down.

Buffy meanwhile looked at the table where the commotion was coming from. She saw the new quarterback of the school getting ready to get the first bit of mystery meat into his mouth. For that one moment when she looked at him, he looked up. Their eyes met. His gray eyes met her brown ones. Buffy walked over to the table, where a small crowd was forming. She got a good place, and watched as Damon chewed on the meat, and cut off a second piece. The crowd gasped as he swallowed.

He didn't twist his face too much, but it was obvious that the taste of the platter was far below 'pleasant'. Nonetheless, Damon got the second piece in his mouth, and started chewing. Buffy enjoyed the people gasping at the boy, and couldn't help but wonder how he was like. For some reason, he seemed to look at her with every chance he got. It gave her butterflies in her stomach.

Suddenly, one of the guys that were seated at Damon's table put another five dollars on the table.

"Another five bucks. You won't finish it," the boy said.

"You're on, Paul," Damon said, and put another piece in his mouth, just for effect. Half the meat had disappeared by now. The crowd started whispering, the hubbub rising. Buffy graced her friends with a smile as they wormed their way through the crowd, so they stood next to her.

"Half a slab?" Xander whispered. "Last guy got sick after two bites."

Without rushing, Damon finished the slab of meat. He had to endure worse in the public school back in Chicago, and it had graced him with a strong stomach. When he finished the meat, Damon unceremoniously put the money away as the crowd cheered.

"Wow! How did you do that, man?" Mika asked.

Damon smiled as he rubbed his stomach. "Cast-iron stomach. Something I needed back in Chicago. The food there was sometimes worse than this."

"Jeezes!" Grant breathed. The crowd began to dissipate, their chatter centering on one thing: Damon and his cast-iron stomach. As she turned to go, Buffy noticed that Damon's gaze trailed on her. She gave him a smile, and turned back to her two friends, and left the lunch hall.

"Who is she?" Damon asked, nodding in Buffy's direction.

"That's Summers. She's a crazy chick, man. Burned down the gym at her old school, back in LA," Mika told Damon.

"Damn. Sounds like someone from Chicago," Damon answered.

"Piece of advice: stay away from her, man. She hangs out with the loser-crowd. Wouldn't want to spoil your rep, would we?" Mika told his friend.

Damon shrugged. "Someone who torches a gym… I don't know. She might be interesting," he whispered to no one in particular.

The next day, at lunchtime, Damon and his friends were sitting at his usual table. Only this time, the rest of the team had joined them, and so had a couple of cheerleaders from last year. Try-outs for cheerleading would start in a couple of days.

"Yo, Dame!" Paul said, snapping his fingers in front of Damon.

"What?" he answered, more testily than he intended.

"You spaced out, man," Mika told him. "And not your normal spacing out either."

"You got that crazy love-sick puppy-dog look in your eyes," Grant added in.

At that point, conversation at the able seemed to stop, and Cordelia Chase, 'queen' of the 'in-crowd', said, "Please, do share!" The brown-haired beauty found it her duty in life to set what is 'in', and what is 'out', and to protect those who are 'in' from people who are 'out'. Damon was very lucky he was on the football team, or he would definitely be 'out', a fact he was very much aware of. For that reason, he didn't like Cordelia. He didn't like her one bit.

"He can't keep his eyes of Buffy," Paul supplied. Damon wanted to strangle the guy. A vision of him, with his hands around Paul's throat, shot through Damon's mind. He laughed it off.

"What? The 'Going-after-people-with-stakes' Buffy?" the cheerleader asked.

"That one," Mika answered.

"What do you mean by that?" Damon asked.

"Just that one night, when I went to the washroom at the Bronze, she went after me with a stake," Cordelia answered. Damon thought of the Bronze, the place where the Sunnydale youth hung out. Damon had only been once or twice to the place, but he remembered the dark passage one had to go through before reaching the washrooms.

"You look fine to me. Besides, I've seen a lot worse in Chicago. As long as she doesn't start shooting people, I don’t care."

"Just as nuts as she is," one of the linebackers, Phil, supplied. Everyone else nodded in quiet agreement, with Damon's face displaying a satisfied smirk. Yes, he was satisfied at getting everyone to at least stop laughing. Now all he needed to do was get her attention… and do it in such a way she wouldn't immediately dismiss him.

Damon saw his chance when school was over. As soon as he exited the building, Damon saw Buffy, talking to her friends. Again, time seemed to slow down as his senses focused on her. It was a most intriguing experience, one that was not unpleasant. In fact, he rather liked the giddy feelings that he got when he saw her.

Now…to talk to her. What to say? Damon questioned himself. Cordelia flashed through his mind. He could still hear her voice yelling that Buffy went after her with a wooden stake. Inspiration hit him with a sledgehammer. He dismissed the second thought, about asking her how she liked it here. Buffy was with her friends, and it wouldn't do much good to interrupt a conversation for something as stupid as 'so, how do you like it here'. Again and again he came back to the stake thing.

Curiosity killed the cat. Oh, well. Here goes. Damon thought to himself. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and proceeded towards his target.

Buffy saw him coming over. Her heart missed a couple of beats as she confirmed he was actually walking directly at her. The conversation she was having with her friends stopped. What were they talking about again? Oh, yeah…a Slayer meeting after most of the other students had left school.

What do I do? She questioned herself as he neared her little group. Buffy turned to Willow and Xander with a nervous look in her eyes. Both looked back, confused.

Deciding that 'bold' was the way to go, Damon opened with the standard "Hi." Good. Don't commit yourself too soon.

"Hi," she answered back, smiling slightly. Deciding on letting him do all the work, Buffy managed to keep her face more or less neutral. So hyped was he that he didn't notice.

"I've been hearing a lot of interesting things about you," Damon said, looking into her eyes for the first time. He noticed her face fall, and questioned for the first time whether or not he was doing this the right way. His hands were at his sides, and he knew his palms were sweating.

"Really? What kind of things?" Buffy asked, with a small voice. Please, god, no…she begged quietly.

"Interesting things," Damon said back, mysteriously. He had found his entrance point. He wanted to pat himself on the back. "Maybe we could talk about them? Let's say at around eight, at the Bronze?" He didn't care much for the place, but it was safe to bet that she would know where it was. Everyone knew where the Bronze was. And, since there was usually a crowd there, it wouldn't feel too threatening.

Buffy seemed to mull that over, and Damon was afraid she'd actually say no. His heart missed a couple of beats as she answered positively. "Okay."

"Okay, then. I'll see you tonight?"

Buffy nodded, and Damon made his escape after nodded a 'hello' at Xander and Willow. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his raging nerves. Never in his life had he felt like this. Back in Chicago he had asked many girls out. He had gone to sleazy bars, and equally sleazy motels. Never before had he felt like this… and it confused him as much as it urged him to go on. Damon knew he wanted to get to know her, and he wouldn't be easily deterred.

That evening, as he stared at his empty glass once more, Damon knew he had been stood up. Eight thirty. Thirty minutes late. Damon felt terrible, and decided he needed to get out of here as soon as he could. He paid, and left the Bronze. As he walked home, Damon realized that something might have happened to her, and his anger turned to worry. Later that night, Damon's thoughts kept running to the blonde girl he was supposed to have met at the Bronze.

Maybe he should have called her house, to make sure. But then again, Buffy might not have liked that, thinking it too invasive. Or, she might have appreciated his concern. Damon looked at his clock: half past one in the morning. It's too late to call now, his mind decided. Trying to go to sleep was a futile attempt for the rest of the night.

The following day, when he saw her, he knew his worries had been for nothing. Buffy was fine, and was joking with her friends. He refused to let the hurt show, and walked up to the group. The conversation on the good hunt yesterday froze as Buffy saw him coming. An apologetic look crossed her features, along with a sadness that slammed into Damon's heart with a force he never before knew existed.

"What happened yesterday?" Damon asked, needing a lot of strength to keep his voice at least neutral. What he really wanted to do would only serve as release, and wasn't likely to help him get to know Buffy.

"I'm really sorry, Damon. Something came up, and I really couldn't make it," her voice begged him to understand, along with those marvelous eyes of hers.

"Mind if I know what?" Damon asked, more curtly than he had intended.

"I can't, Damon…I really can't. Please, try to understand," she was really pleading now.

Damon wanted to look at the situation logically. He really wanted to. But he couldn't, and Buffy saw the hurt in his eyes. "Alright," he said, not knowing why he said it. His mind seemed to have left him. With uncertainty, he questioned, "Tonight ... At eight ... At the Bronze…?"

"I'll be there," Buffy promised, relief on her face. Damon smiled. He liked that look better than the look of hurt he had seen a moment earlier. He still felt hurt, but maybe he would get to know what happened yesterday.

"Please do," he whispered, before turning, and leaving. When he saw Cordelia stare at him, Damon knew it would be a very long day. But he didn't care. He could take care of himself. The rest of the day passed slowly for both Damon and Buffy, who were both looking forward to tonight ... both for their own reasons. Damon wanted to know what had happened yesterday, why she hadn't shown up, and maybe, just maybe, get to know her better.

Buffy, on the other hand, was nervous for a whole other reason. She didn't know how to handle the situation, afraid that when Damon knew about her calling as Slayer, he would be disgusted about it. Or worse, he would see her as some kind of freak, or tell the entire school… Buffy couldn't risk that. The rest of the day, she kept wondering what to tell him, and what not to tell him.

When school ended, Buffy was no closer to a solution than she had been at the beginning of the day. And Buffy didn't like feeling so hyped up…she most definitely didn't. She was nervous, and mortally afraid. Afraid that Damon would draw the wrong conclusions, and would want nothing more to do with her.

That evening, Damon was sitting in the Bronze, staring at the glass in front of him. For what seemed like the ten thousandth time, he shifted his eyes from the glass to his watch. Eight thirty. Again. She hadn't shown up, and he knew she wouldn't. Sighing, he emptied his glass, paid, and left. His shoulders hung, and he stared dejectedly at the ground passing under his feet.

Subconsciously, he walked a little faster as he passed the cemetery. The place always gave him the creeps. Suddenly, he heard sounds of grunting and straining, and Damon looked up.

"What the...?"

He heard a grunt. Definitely a grunt coming form a female's mouth. Buffy's mouth. Damon would recognize that voice among millions. Setting off in a dead run, he entered a scene taken from his worst nightmares. There she was, surrounded by four guys. She attacked one of them, giving Damon all the information he needed. As a second man tried to jump her back, Damon yelled, and tackled the man.

Thank god for Football! Damon's mind cheered. However, the man got up, and Damon got the scare of his life. The man's face was replaced by some horrible, monstrous visage, large fangs decorating the face that also sported a ridged forehead and yellow-glowing eyes.

Frozen in place, Damon could do nothing but stare at the thing in front of him, as it charged. He didn't see Buffy drive a wooden stake through the heart of the other creatures. Damon's eyes stayed focused on the man(?) he had tackled. Finally, survival instinct took over, and Damon jumped out of the way as the monstrosity raced at him. A football player had to be nimble on his feet, and Damon couldn't thank his coaches enough for drilling that into him.

Looking around, he saw Buffy engaging the last remaining guy, using martial arts kicks. Damon looked confusedly at the girl, not believing his eyes. The thing he had been fighting took the opportunity to attack Damon, and managed to pin him to the ground.

"Fuck! What are you?" Damon barked as he stared directly into the horrible face.

"That last thing you'll ever see," the thing growled, and the fanged mouth drew closer. Damon started struggling, but to no avail. Whoever this was, it was stronger than Damon, and they both knew it.

As Damon's head was pushed to the side, he was suddenly aware of a growl from the thing on top of him, followed immediately by the disappearance of the weight.

"Wha…?" Damon stammered, looking up at Buffy, wielding the wooden stake. Damon looked around. His assailant was gone, and so were the other three. "Where…How?" he finally demanded, his mind still in shock. Buffy extended her hand, and pulled him to his feet with strength he never imagined she had.

"Come on, I'll get you someplace safe," Buffy said, taking his hand, and leading him from the cemetery. "Thanks for helping me back there," she said as they left the cemetery.

"You…them…what? How?" Damon asked. He saw her sigh, which was enough to bring him somewhat down to reality. "What happened back there?" he asked, his voice still rather weak, showing his confusion.

"I'll explain once we get to that safe place I told you about," Buffy assured him as the two of them walked over the deserted streets of nighttime Sunnydale.

"Okay," he agreed, still feeling totally uncomfortable with what he had just seen, done, and experienced.

Five minutes later, Buffy dragged a still very pale Damon Mitchell into the library. Somehow, it didn't register as odd to Damon's brain that Willow and Xander, Buffy's two friends, were already there. So was Rupert Giles, the librarian at Sunnydale High School.

"Now…tell me what I just saw?" Damon asked. The three people already at the library looked strangely at Buffy. Damon was feeling more confused now. He knew something strange was happening, and he wasn't part of it. For the few minutes it took to get here, he kept wondering if he wanted to know what was going on.

"He saw me fighting, and took on a vampire," Buffy told her friends. She felt scared. How would Damon react? What would he say? Would he even want to have anything to do with her? With her friends? Would he expose them, and their work?

"A vampire?" Damon asked, staring hard at Buffy. "That…was a vampire?" Damon felt really threatened now. He didn't know why, but there was just something pounding on the inside of his skull. He had just fought a vampire. A real-life vampire. The monster-face flashed before Damon's eyes, and he jumped up, backing away from the others. "What are you guys?"

"Please, sit down, Mr. Mitchell, and I will attempt to explain the situation," Mr. Giles told the seventeen-year-old.

"I don’t WANT to sit down!" Damon shrieked, irrationally. "You can tell me from over there, just where you're standing. And you all stay over there, so I can see you." Damon was becoming dangerously unstable, and everyone knew it. He hadn't been quietly introduced to the situation, nor had it been explained to him what he was to see.

Instead, Damon had been cast into the deep end, and he didn't know if he could swim, or wanted to.

Giles slowly started to explain everything to Damon. "This world is older than you know, and contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, Demons walked the earth; made it their home -- their Hell. In time they (the demons) lost their purchase on this reality, and the way was made for the mortal animals. For Man. What remains of the Old Ones are vestiges: certain magics, certain creatures… And Vampires.

Out of every generation a girl is called. She is the Chosen One, the Slayer. She alone has the strength and agility to fight the vampires. For this generation, that Slayer is Buffy."

Damon's eyes settled on Buffy. "That's…that's why you were able to get them," he whispered. Confusion still reigned supreme in his thoughts, and Damon knew he needed time to think. He needed to get away from this all. In the space of half an hour, Damon had found out that not only vampires were real, but also that the girl he liked was the one destined to fight them. Damon felt betrayed.

"Damon…" Buffy said softly as she approached him.

"No! Stay back!" Damon shouted, louder than he intended. "I…I…I need time. I can't handle all this. Not now. An hour ago, I was just angry at you for not showing up. Now I know you have a whole other life, involving…vampires." Damon couldn't believe he just said that word. "I'm sorry," he added, and ran from the library, leaving Buffy alone with her friends. The crushed look on her face was stored away for later. Right now, his mind had more urgent things to think about: its sanity.

Over the next few days, Damon found out just how hard life could be. He didn't eat, drink, or sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his subconscious would show him the fleeting image of Buffy's crushed face, the picture his mind had taken when it was fully occupied with dealing with what he had experienced that night. Football practice didn't go well anymore either.

"Yo, Dame, what's wrong, man?" Paul asked at lunchtime, two days after the night that changed Damon's life.

"Dunno. Feel shitty," Damon answered his friend.

"Man! We told you to stay away from the Summers chick!" Mika said, throwing his arms up in the air in an exasperated manner. His words knifed through Damon, who just felt worse. Deep down, he knew it was his fault. He had run out on her. He knew she was right not to tell him… and that crushed look on her face only made it worse. And now, with all his friends here…it just added to his pain.

"It's my own fault," Damon muttered.

"So, our big, bad quarterback got hurt by tiny stake-wielding Buffy?" Cordelia's voice commented. Damon wanted to get up and rip her throat out. He really felt the urge to…and there was a time when he would have acted upon such an impulse. He wouldn't have actually ripped her throat out, but back in Chicago, in the downtown area, there was no problem with hitting a girl that insulted you. But right now, Damon couldn't even bear to give her an answer.

Finally, he got up, and turned to her. "Why don’t you just fuck off, miss high-and-mighty? You have NO idea what you're talking about, so just shut up, and keep your big yap shut, or I'll shut it for you. Now excuse me, I have to go." As Damon turned around, his eyes wandered across the lunch hall, where the nearby students were gaping at him for telling of Cordelia Chase. When he saw Buffy, the weight in his heart seemed to solidify, crushing the very insides of his mind and body.

What was even worse was the fact that she had seen him, too. And for the one moment before she looked away in anger and pain, Damon could read those emotions from the depths of her brown eyes. Even though they were half a lunch hall apart, Damon could stare into her eyes as if Buffy were right in front of him. It was a must unusual experience, one that hurt Damon even worse.

Buffy felt just about the same. Ever since she had laid eyes on Damon, she had wanted to tell him about her, about her calling, and about her life. And ever since she had wanted to talk to him, she had wanted not to talk to him, out of fear…a justified fear. Buffy's heart had been crushed that night. She had seen Damon jump in, and help her out, even unknowingly at risk of his own life. And then, after the fight…she had seen him slip into shock.

And when Giles had told him, Damon had become almost hysterical. He had run out on them, on her, after saying he couldn't handle it all. Buffy knew what he meant…if her first Watcher, Merrick, hadn't handled her as well as he had, she too might have gone the same way Damon had now gone. But what hurt her was the fact that he had wanted to get away from them. From her. Damon hadn't wanted to have anything to do with her anymore, and it had devastated Buffy.

She had tried to go on, but each day just got worse. Every time she saw him, he seemed to get worse, too. Buffy thought it was all her fault, for not telling him gently, cursing herself for having him found out this way. Like Damon, Buffy's body was suffering. She too felt the lack of appetite, and the insomnia plagued her at night. The struck look on Damon's face, the near-hysterical emotions that crossed his features… it was burned into the depths of Buffy's soul.

Damon was never the brightest student, but now that his body and mind were out of control and that certainly didn't improve the situation. For the rest of that second day, his mind remained clouded, and it never bothered him to hear the snicker of the other students whenever he gave another wrong answer to the teacher's questions. After school, Damon's football practice went even worse. He was totally out of shape, and the coach told him time and time again that he'd better pull his act together, or get thrown off of the team.

Damon didn't care. Buffy's face, her angelic face with the devastated look, was burned deep into his mind. He wanted to apologize, but couldn't think of the right words. He wanted to make things right, but he couldn't think of a way. Damon had accepted her Calling, the vampires, everything. He just hadn't accepted his actions, or the fact that he had nothing to contribute to her cause. Damon kicked himself over the head time and time again with that one. Buffy had it all, or so it seemed, and he had nothing. How could such a divine creature as Buffy want to have anything to do with a loser like him?

At the same time Damon was walking out of football practice, Giles was giving Buffy and her two friends the final once-over for the patrol later that night.

"Buffy?" Giles asked. "Have you heard anything I said?" Buffy stared into space with a lost look in her eyes. "Buffy?" Giles asked again, louder this time. Xander and Willow focused harder on their friend.

"Hey, Buff!" Xander said, leaning over to her. Buffy started, and stared around the library.

"Hmm? What? I miss anything?"

"Nah. Just the G-man here explaining what the patrol included," Xander said.

"Quite right. Are you all right, Buffy? You seemed lost somehow," Giles added.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Don’t worry about me, guys," Buffy answered.

"Did you hear what the patrol includes?" Giles asked.

"Just the standard patrol, right?" Buffy asked, getting up. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys later, then," she said, and walked out the door.

"Oh, my," Giles whispered.

"I…I don't think she heard anything you said, Giles," Willow said.

"C'mon guys. That's Buffy. Vampire Slayer Buffy. What's the worst that can happen?" Xander asked. As the two others stared at him, he sheepishly added, "That's not the right expression, is it?"

"No Xander, it isn't," Giles said quietly.

Damon just couldn't bring himself to go home. After wandering around for some time, Damon found himself at the Bronze. One could call it fate, or divine intervention, or any of the millions of other expressions out there, but Damon found himself going to the Bronze. He really hated the place now, for all the memories it brought back.

Damon closed his eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. He went inside.

Buffy too, was at the Bronze. After Willow and Xander had caught up with her, they had convinced the Slayer that she needed some cheering up, so she had been brought here. Since the place didn't hold as many bad memories as it did for Damon, Buffy had allowed herself to be dragged here. The conversation washed over her, not registering to her still occupied mind.

One thing she did see, however. Well, not exactly see, but feel would be a better description. She felt something, and looked up. Damon… she saw him, staring at her for what seemed like hours. Time grinded to a halt as she met his gaze.

Damon couldn't believe it. He really wanted to talk to her, to tell her how sorry he was, what a fool he had been, and hope to God that she'd give him another chance. Instead, he let his fear dictate him. Running seemed like a good idea, and Damon pressed through the other people at the Bronze, and went out. Damon tried to steady his breathing by taking deep gulps as he rested against the outside wall of the Bronze.

I'm a stupid fool! Now she'll never want to have anything to do with me! His mind scolded. He tried to reason with himself, tried to tell his mind how much it hurt, how afraid he was, but the nagging feeling didn't go away. He had blown it. Big time.

Xander saw the pain cross Buffy's face, and a strange feeling welled up inside him. He liked Buffy. He 'liked' liked Buffy. And he could see that she liked Damon. Anger welled up inside him as he saw the guy hurt Buffy's feelings once again. Excusing himself, he ran out, after Damon. It took some time to register to Buffy and Willow, who followed after about half a minute.

Xander pressed Damon against the wall after grabbing the older boy's collar. The sixteen-year-old hissed angrily in Damon's face, "If you don't stop hurting her, I swear I'll…I'll…" In his anger, Xander had forgotten to think of some threats. That is sooo like me. "I'll kill you," the boy added.

Damon stared at Xander, and got the younger boy off him with no trouble at all. After all, Damon was a football player. He may not have been in the best of shapes right now, but he was still a football player. Damon's fears rose as he thought of what Buffy would think of him now. He had knocked one of her friends off him. Sure, the friend had attacked him first, but still… he had fought back.

"Listen to me, and you listen carefully," Damon said with a hollow voice. There didn't seem to be any strength behind it. "I love Buffy. I know that now. I have never known love, at it scares the hell out of me, but that's not the point. The point is that I'm scared to death of talking to her. I know I hurt her, and I'm scared that, if I talk to her, she'll just tell me to get lost. My only hope is that, when I find some strength and I talk to her, she'll forgive me. Who knows, she might like me too."

Xander stared at Damon with big eyes. You have no idea was written all over the younger boy's face. And then, a voice permeated the air behind Damon, sending vibrations through his spine, locking all his body parts in place.

"I do." Just those two words coming from Buffy's mouth froze his brain. Damon gulped, trying to moisten a suddenly dry mouth. Finally, he said with a broken voice, small and thick with emotion, "You forgive me?"

Buffy walked around him, staring him in the face. Damon looked back at her, his eyes seeking hers. "Yes," the Slayer whispered. "I forgive you. And I do like you too."

As Xander stared, Willow grabbed his arm. "Let's give them some privacy," the red-haired girl whispered to her friend, who let himself be dragged away under protest.

Damon took a small step forward, his fears diminishing, but still very much present. Buffy took a small step forward as well. Damon didn't know what to do with his hands, or where to rest his eyes as the distance shortened between them.

Buffy's hands rested on his shoulders as they moved closer together. Damon's gray eyes met Buffy's brown ones, and a whole world of emotions were reflected in them. She could read his love, his devotion, and also his fears in his eyes. He could read Buffy's strength, her fledging confidence, her trust and loyalty…and her fear. Both were aware of their own fears, as well as the fear of the other.

She was smaller than he was, her mouth being somewhat around his shoulder level. Gingerly, she moved closer, allowing her hands to slip behind his back. Damon sighed, feeling the strength as her arms locked behind his back, and her head came to rest on his chest. His own hands had moved as well. His right hand was crossed over her back, touching her left shoulder blade.

His left hand stroked her golden hair, and he inhaled her fragrance, time and time again. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to drift in the comfort of the embrace, just as Buffy had moments earlier. As oblivious to the world as they were, they were still very much aware of the other. Damon could hear the contented breathing of Buffy as he stroked hair that was as soft and golden as grain in the morning sun.

Subconsciously, Buffy's grip tightened as she realized she never wanted to let go. A small part of Damon's mind realized that he was now putting more strength into breathing. It didn't register to the thinking part of his mind as the sensations focused on the deeper and more primal parts. Damon felt safe and protected in Buffy's arms, his subconscious mind realizing that, although she was smaller than he, and that she was a woman, Buffy was also the Slayer -- His Slayer. A gentle smile crossed his features as he brushed some hair from her forehead. He pulled back his head a little, and planted a kiss on that perfect skin directly below her hairline.

Buffy was in heaven as she felt accepted … completely, without reservation, by someone who knew everything about her. Sure, she felt accepted by her friends, but that wasn't the same kind of acceptance. When she felt him brush some hair from her forehead, and the subsequent kiss, her smile became even more radiant.

"I love you, Damon," she whispered, her heart skipping a few beats.

"I love you too, Buffy. With all my heart." And he meant every word of it.

"I'm glad," Buffy whispered back.

Damon smiled as he realized what she was talking about, and hugged her tighter. "I don’t have any problems with your Calling," he whispered in her ear. "Certainly because you're now my Slayer."

Buffy giggled a little. "Your Slayer." She looked up at him with a smile and an adoring look in her eyes. "I like that. Your Slayer."

Damon's eyes were shining as he gently told her, "Yes. My Slayer. And I'll never let you go, Buffy."

Her eyes shone with happiness as she clutched tightly at him, momentarily cutting off his breath. "I'll never let you go either."

Again, they gazed at one another. Slowly, they moved closer together until each could smell the other's breath. When their lips met, the sensation was like liquid lightning spreading through their nerves.

Damon took in a deep breath. He hadn't realized that the kiss had lasted that long, mostly because his senses were going haywire, and his brain was on overload. Everything seemed to have come together, focused exclusively on the being he was still holding in his arms. His gaze was still meeting Buffy's, and Damon could read the same feelings in her eyes. Somehow, he knew she was feeling the same way he was, and it filled him with a feeling of happiness, a feeling he hadn't known until now.

When Buffy opened her eyes, she stared directly into Damon's eyes. It took her a few moments to regain her senses, and when she did, Buffy could still feel the aftermath of that kiss. That wonderful kiss, the sensation of which had filled her with warmth. A gentle, caring warmth that made her feel loved, and protected. Buffy smiled at Damon, who returned her affection. She could see it in his eyes. Damon's face stayed with her as she closed her eyes, and allowed her head to gently rest against his chest once more.

Buffy knew she wanted to stay like this forever. Had she opened her eyes, she would have seen Damon's expression mimicked hers.