Disclaimer: BTVS is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant enemy. This fic is intended for entertainment purposes only so no money is being made of it. As if anybody would pay.

Pairing: B/R but really B/S

Summary: In a different Sunnydale in where the demon threat has been neutralized the slayer protects a vampire from the Initiative labs.


Entry #1

First lets get this clear.

I am only writing this because the lousy Council of Watchers informed me that every slayer had kept some type of written record of their activities to be turned in after her death. I was to assume that these records played on important part of the slayer traditions and it was vital that it be done (their words not mine). Well, anyhow, I have to write this stupid journal. And, after all, its not as if I have many things to do because I just don't.

Giles tells me that in the past being a slayer constituted of a lot more …slaying. Actual vampire slaying and not the ceremonial /recreational thing that I do. Slayers of the past were actually protecting the world from the forces of evil. I, on the other hand, protect it from the forces of boredom.

Because that is what I am. Entertainment.

Don't get me wrong. I don't want to go back to a world that was truly being threatened by vamps and demons. Having the forces of darkness neutralized was a plus. It had cost countless of slayers their lives but at the end humanity (with help from the council and the Initiative) had prevailed. We defeated the foes and reclaimed the world.

There were still bands of demons and vampires living in the outskirts of civilization. They survived by consuming wild animals and adventurous humans who seek them out. But for the most part the remaining demons had been captured, implanted and sent either to the labs, the prisons or sold as pets to those that could afford it.

Yes pets. It seems like the world has some sort of obsession with the creatures of the night. Just recently I had attended a party given by some major studio head that had a vamp fetish. He kept a couple in this tiny sun-proof cage that was the focus piece of his recreation room. When they saw me the poor vamps looked like they wanted to dig a hole and bury themselves. They must have thought that I was here to take them back to the lab. If there is one thing worse than being a pet it would be being a lab subject.

The underground labs were a maze that covered most of Sunny D. I housed all kinds of demons but head researcher Maggie Walsh was especially fond of vamp specimens. She must have about 1000 down there. As expected the vamps were the subjects of all kinds of controlled studies aimed at benefiting humanity. Good for us, bad for vamps. Not that I had any fluffy, bunny feelings for them. After all I am the slayer. Still, whenever I was underground I could not help but feel sorry for the pathetic creatures being tested day after day living their unlives in a mad scientist's lab (don't let Walsh read this).

There is no People for the Ethical Treatment of the Undead so they are very much unprotected and helpless. It seemed like people forget that they had been human once.

Well, enough about that subject. As you can see, I really have no reason to be in this society. The slayer is a figurehead. A relic from a long gone, terrible past.