Watching her fight was like watching a dancer glide across the stage, smooth and lithe; a piece of art. She was powerful and graceful in the way she moved and as the stake struck home in the pawn's chest, he felt a shiver run up his spine.

She was extraordinary.

"Nice work, love" he purred, letting a few of his own dancer's strides bring him into the light.

"Who are you?" she demanded and as her eyes met his, he wanted to tell her.

He wanted to tell her everything.

Everything he was, everything he'd done, every little detail so that she would know him and she would know what he could do and that same shiver of anticipation would make its way through her petite frame.

But he didn't.

He wouldn't.

"You'll find out on Saturday," he heard himself saying

"What happens on Saturday?" the Slayer asked warily, her Bambi eyes wide as they followed his relaxed steps.

"I kill you."
As he disappeared into the darkness, he knew that this girl was going to be different.

The first slayer was a 'straight for the kill' kind of deal. The second, he let himself have a little fun with. But this one... he wanted the dance to last longer, to see more of the style he already admired.

After all, it's like they say: the third time's the charm.