Green Eyed Slayer
Chapter Seven: Whistler

She rounded the corner and nearly slammed into me.

"Watch it, kid," I said. "You think a suit this good comes cheap?"

"Maybe if you weren't hanging around on street corners, you wouldn't get your suit damaged. Unless that's how you earn your money," then she pushed past me and stalked off down the street.

"Heard you were a feisty one, Maggie."

She froze. Desired effect achieved. Then she ran back and pinned me to the wall with one hand.

"Why do people always do that?" I asked.

"Perhaps 'cause you seem to know too much. How about you tell me how, mmm?" she studied me through narrowed eyes. "You're a demon. Why'd you seek me out?" she let go and folded her arms.

"Well, Maggie - or shall I call you Gwen, seeing as no-one's called you Maggie for a hundred and ten years?"

"Gwen," she answered sullenly.

"Gwen. Does Sunnydale mean anything to you?"

She frowned and cocked her head to the side.

"Aye," she answered. "Hellmouth in California, isn't it? With a Slayer to boot, so I hear."

"And you've been keeping your ear to the ground for info about Sunnydale, haven't you? 'Cause not only does it have a Hellmouth and a Slayer, but your Sire's there, with chip and an achy breaky heart."

"Very similar to your achy breaky neck," she hissed.

"Now, now," I warded her off. "I just meant that he's not killing, he's loving the Slayer."

"So I hear."

"You haven't seen him in a while, have you?"

"Thought I might drop in on him for a hour or two on my way back to Europe."

"Sorry, you can't."

"Can't what? See my Sire? Take a long walk off a short cliff."

"Love to, but then there's the falling and horrible death scenario that I don't really love. But I meant you can't go to Europe. You've got a mission."

"Why don't you do it yourself, Tom Cruise?"

"I wasn't chosen by the Powers. You were."

"To do what?"

"To do some good. You have to go to Sunnydale and make sure the Slayer and your Sire get together."

She snorted and tossed her red hair. Then she fixed me with a hard look and smirked. Girl does act like that Sire of hers.

"Why should I do that?" she asked. "When I want him myself?"

"Because you'll never get him. Because he's going to lose that chip and if she rejects him, it might make him turn to the dark side. Do you want that? Do you want to see the same Sire you saw a couple of decades ago?"

A flicker of horror crossed her face. Got her. Hook, line and sinker.

"No," she answered shortly.

"Then you need to go there."

"And do what?"

"Whatever you have to."

"Then what? Is that it? You just want this one thing, right?"

"No. You're needed."

She narrowed her eyes and sighed.

"Fine. Beats hanging around doing nowt. But I don't take orders; you can forget telling me how to do things. You tell me what to do and where to go and that's it, ok?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yeah, get me with no ordering me about or you don't get me - your choice."

"Sunnydale awaits."

She nodded and walked off down the street without so much as a goodbye.

"You've got to understand," I called after her and she stopped and turned

"Understand what?" she yelled back.

"That this isn't about you, it's about the two of them."

She hung her head and walked back to me. She brushed her curls back and fixed me with a clear green stare.

"What's your name?" she asked. "You seem to know both of mine, so what's yours?"

"Whistler."

"Fine then, Whistler," she grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the neon sign of an all night café. "Make me understand."

She frowns down at her folded arms, her expression overcoming the cheery one she wore when she approached.

"So?" I ask.

"Done and - well, not dusted, but definitely shagged," she answers quietly. "Where to next, Whistler? Tell me it's somewhere different to this little hole in the wall."

"You're going to the same place you told Spike you were going."

"LA?" she screeches, jerking forward and staring at me. "Please tell me you don't mean I have to see Angel?"

"That was the plan."

"Oh no," she shakes her head. "No bloody way. I hate Angel, he hates me."

"You hated the soulless version, he hated you. The sad story he is now will probably like you, you've got a lot in common."

"If you weren't my boss and someone that looks like he'd scream like a woman, I would pummel you."

"Go right ahead," I lift my arms and shrug. "But you still have to go to LA."

"Why?"

"Guy's gonna get something big. Something no other vampire ever gets. This prophecy needs to go through cleanly, 'cause there's going to be trouble otherwise, kid. You have to be the saviour; you have to help him. He won't trust you straight away, but he will in time. We thought it was going to be all right if we let it happen to Angel, the great goon guy that does only good, but the Powers didn't count on one man."

"One man?" she questions.

"Jeez! Are you always this nosy?"

"One man?" she repeats.

"Name's Holtz," I shrug. "Old enemy of Angel's."

"He's got a lot of those," she sighs and rubs her forehead. "When do I go?"

"Now. You haven't got much time."

She nods and goes back to her bike - nice machine, I have to give her that.

"Whistler?"

"Yeah, Gwen?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me something..." she stares past me to the crypt beyond. "Something else I can obsess over."

I nod. Then she mounts up and speeds out of the cemetery towards the party town itself. I watch her go, I know she's the best warrior for the light we have.

And she's the best because she's not the Chosen One, she's not fighting because she's got a chip and is in love with a Slayer, and she's not fighting to wipe out over two century's of guilt. She's doing it 'cause in her own way she believes in it.

And that's why the Powers chose her.

The End.