Willow stood up quickly. "What happened? Did you kill Spike? Is anyone hurt? Your mom's okay, right?" she asked, only then pausing to breathe. "Who's that?" she asked, gesturing to The blonde behind Buffy.

Fred noticed a brunette girl, who had not come to greet them. It was a moment before he realized the girl's question was addressed more to him than to Daphne, whom the redhead called 'Buffy'. "I'm Fred. We got a call from someone telling us to come down here, her name was... Cordelia Chase?"

Cordelia looked up at the sound of her name, finally taking the time to properly look at the high-heel clad Buffy, who looked like she had been dressed by Elle Woods ( All she needed was a chihuahua. Seriously.) and a buff blond. "I'm Cordelia. Who are you?" she asked warily. "I'm Daphne, This is Fred. We're Mystery Inc." the Stepford Buffy replied. "You called us remember?"

Willow furrowed her brow. "Daphne? You look just like Buffy..." she said quietly. Suddenly, the silence in the hallway was broken as a loud bark echoed through it. 'What on Earth...?' she thought, glancing out the door. Fred stopped her, and stuck his head out.

"Scooby!" he cried, watching the big dog scramble down the hall mere feet away. Shaggy was hot on his trail, and as they reached the closet, the people causing the chase caught his attention, in the fact that they weren't people at all. "Vampires!" Shaggy choked out.

Again, Daphne managed to remain surprisingly calm. "do either of you have any of those stick thingies?" she asked quickly, turning to Cordelia. Both girls shook their heads. "Damn," she muttered. "Only one thing left to do then," Cordelia said. Daphne gave her a confused look, but Shaggy nodded vigorously.

"Like, run!" he cried. But, at this time, the vampires were almost upon them.

Daphne kicked off her heels. As she was bending to pick them up, a shadow came over her. She glanced up, her eyes widening as the Vampire practically began to drool. She stood, the straps of her heels still looped around her thumb. Without hesitation, she plunged the heel of her very expensive shoe into the demon's heart, turning it to dust. She scowled. "I will never be able to wear these shoes again." she declared, flinging the right one toward one of the two remaining vampires. Just as the stupidity of the act caught up with her, the intended target fell to the ground on the opposite end of the hall.

-{what are you talking about! This is totally a line!}-

"Are you all right?" Angeles asked, catching Velma by the arm. She shrugged it off, and backed away. Angeles raised his eyebrows. "I'll take that as a yes, then," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Yes, I'm unhurt. Who are you? Why did you let him go?" she asked, turning to face the not-Daphne. She was vaguely surprised when Angeles replied, "I'm Angel, That's Buffy, That's Xander." He said, making sure to keep minimum safe distance. "I thought you were Angeles." Velma shot, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 'Angel' tossed his head back in exasperation. "You'd think that bleached-blond jerk would get it right after more than 80 years!" he snarled at the ceiling.
"Um, hello, kind of a situation here, Angel." Buffy exclaimed. "You know, the slayer of Slayers at my high school? Hellmouth to keep safe? Soulless evil to fight?" she tried. Then she stopped. She glanced at Velma, expecting to be bombarded with questions. "Sunnydale is a Hellmouth?" she asked wonderously. "Jinkies, no wonder there are all these Vampires..." she murmured. "does that mean everything I read about was true?" Velma wondered aloud.

"Yeah, basically." Xander said.

"Read about?" Buffy asked, sounding confused.

"I have a thing for ancient languages." Velma confessed. "I found some interesting texts in the library of Merrick Jamison-Smythe, a British man in LA who died a year ago. I used letter frequency to decode symbols and found several similarities to the romance languages, along with Greek and Sumerian."

Buffy's eyes widened in apparent shock. "Merrick? He's dead?" she asked cautiously. Velma nodded, not understanding Buffy's peculiar response.

"Wait, who's Merrick?" Xander asked, holding a hand up in a 'stop' sort of fashion. "He was my first Watcher. Before Giles." Buffy replied, her eyes distant. "Watcher as in Slayer?" Velma asked. Xander turned to face her. "How do you know all this?" he asked bluntly.

"Well, when Fred got a call concerning the Jamison-Smythe house—which had been recently vacated—from a neighbor who claimed she believed the house was haunted. None of the others wanted to take the case seriously, seeing as there was no actual evidence of paranormal or supernatural activity. It ended up being a noisy raccoon in the attic, which I discovered quickly. With time to spare, I... well, I went snooping. I found those books and pored over them for hours, but, I believed them to be merely fictional, and read them for entertainment." Velma explained.

Buffy stood up, ready to get back to killing things. "I hate to break this up, but Spike is here somewhere, and could be wreaking havoc on the people that are still here." She felt qualms of nausea at the thought. Xander paled.

"Let's go"

-{what are you talking about! This is totally a line!}-

Already, the bunch was turning the corner (they were all very into the running plan), when Fred realized Daphne was not behind him (he was the furthest person back), or in front of him. He shot a worried glance behind him in time to see the tallest vamp go down like a sack of potatoes, nearly catching his feet on the way down.

As the ash settled, Fred smiled. A brown pump lay on the ground. But, when he turned back to face the front, a tall, muscular, and leather clad blond man stood in front of him.

Then it all went black.

A/N: reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (movie) circa 1991, the movie that started it all ... I figured it would make more sense if it was Merrick instead of some random guy we say is on the watcher's council, in some random place. Merrick may have actually died during the movie, but for the sake of this fic, he didn't. And for the sake of Me, review. EVEN if there is ANY teeny tiny grammatical or character detail that needs fixing. PMS are also accepted. Oh, and Merrick won't be an actual piece, just a little tidbit for plausibility.

Ciao!

-Alexis Castle