Young Writers Society

Two nights later, Spike burst into the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles, screaming Angel’s name at the top of his lungs. Angel looked up from his desk and glowered at his childe.
“What?” Angel asked. “This had better be important, boy.”
“What, are you channeling Angelus now? She’s alive,” Spike exclaimed. The young man looked almost … happy. Like a kid at Christmas. Angel found it slightly disturbing.
“I wasn’t aware that Dru had died … again. And I know you wouldn’t be excited about Darla, so what the heck is going on?”
“You bloody dolt! You don’t remember our Little Pixie?” At Angel’s lost expression, Spike threw his hands in the air. “Oh come on! Only you, I swear, could actually forget about her? And you wanna know why? Because you’re a moron and got all soulful again. You sired her and Angelus was bloody pissed when she wasn’t with me after the slayer made you ... well … really happy and I would know, I have the scars to prove it. Not that I really want to think about you shagging the slayer.”
“Spike! I saw the ashes, as did you. It isn’t possible for her to be alive. I couldn’t forget about Marian I just don’t want to hope for something I can’t have.” Spike continued to pace and rant about stupid sires.
~~~~
Two weeks had passed since Marian had joined the ranks of Buffy’s Slayerettes. Miss Calendar and Giles were very shocked to find the little vampiress calmly drinking blood at the Summers’ kitchen table. They were immediately persuaded not to kill her by the wall that was formed between Marian, the watcher and teacher by Xander and Oz. Marian had surprised the gang quite a lot over the past two weeks. She refused to drink any human blood, preferring pig’s blood and didn’t even bat an eye when Willow accidentally cut herself with a kitchen knife or when Buffy would return from patrol a bloody mess. If anything, Marian was nearly hysterical with worry over the possibility of infection and tried to lick the wounds clean to help them clot, not even wanting the blood. It actually took a long time to explain to the vampire that infection wasn’t much of an issue in 2000.
They also discovered her love of drawing and she was absolutely elated when Xander brought her a pack of colored pencils. The oddest thing about her was that she never talked about her sire and never named him if she did. Most of the vamps that Buffy dusted wanted to give their whole life story while in battle, giving everything except their social security number. Marian instantly bonded to Oz and Xander. Giles figured that it was because Oz was a werewolf and Xander had been possessed by a hyena spirit at one time. The boys didn’t mind much, in fact they doted on her, driving Buffy and Willow crazy. Spike hadn’t shown back up in days, to the Scooby gang’s relief.
The night was young and Marian was sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping blood while Buffy was gathering weapons for her patrol that night.
“Buffy, do you have to go out? What if you get hurt?”
“It’s kind of part of the job description.” Buffy laughed. “What did you expect me to do? Sit home and knit?”
“Maybe. It’s safer. Plus, you can make scarves for cold and lonely vampires,” Marian suggested in a teasing voice.
“I don’t think so. Look, I’ll be back in less than two hours. You’ll be fine.”
“I know I’ll be fine. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”
“Marian! I’m the Slayer. I’ll be fine,” Buffy said, walking out the door, armed with stakes, a crossbow, and the axe. Marian waited all of ten minutes before running out the door after her.
“BUFFY!” Marian called. “Hello? SLAYER!” She frowned and continued on her search. Upon reaching the smallest of Sunnydale’s cemeteries, Marian was exhausted curling up against a tombstone, in tears.
“Aww! Has the little lamb gotten lost?” cooed a voice from the shadows. Marian’s head shot up in shock and fear.
“Drusilla?”
“How has the little lamb gotten out of her cage? She should be punished,” the older vampiress said. Marian hissed loudly and backed up.
“Leave me alone Drusilla.”
“Have I upset the kitty?”
“Wait, now I’m confused. First I’m a sheep, and now I’m a cat. Make up your mind, woman.”
“Oh I have upset you.” Drusilla pouted.
“Yes, you have,” Marian replied. “Good-bye.”
“Miss Edith and three stars say that you need to be punished. You’ve been a very bad kitty.” Then Drusilla pounced on the defenseless Marian knocking her unconscious.
~~~~
Meanwhile in L.A. Spike was still very annoyed with Angel.
“I’m telling you, you Great Poof, that Marian is alive. I saw her myself,” he said.
“And I’m telling you that you’re nuts. I saw her ashes. What more proof do you need? She’s dead D-E-A-D! I hate having to repeat myself yet, again get it through your thick skull.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You have bleach in your brain,” Angel retorted. “We both loved her and we both have to accept the fact that Marian. Is. Dead. Permanently.”
“What do I have to do? Drag your fat behind to Sunnyhell and show you?”
“I am not going to Sunnydale. There’s too much work to do. My caseload is huge and not getting any smaller, especially with you here, distracting me 24/7,” Angel said.
“Can’t you just leave for a day or so? I think that your worthless clients can live without the great Angel for a day.”
“NO! GET OUT!”
“Or what?” Spike asked.
“Spike, please. Do me a favor and be civil just once.”
“Fine! If you come to Sunnyhell so I can prove it to you,” Spike said.
“Fine, give me two weeks.” If Spike ever had a happy dance, he’d be doing it now. But, being Spike, he just smirked, nodded and left the room.