"Oh, God." Buffy barely missed being decapitated by a scythe that was being wielded by a vampire wearing a neon colored tu-tu. "Look, I know that there are no mirrors in your world, but you have *eyes* don't you? You're blinding me with that outfit and that's cheating!"

"Less talk. More killing," the ring leader cried.

One on one, Buffy could hold her own all day long, but the bullpen the vampires had formed was becoming smaller and smaller, and her lack of a weapon was beginning to take its toll. Her fists were black and blue, already swelling. And the skin on her knuckles had been sliced against more fangs than she cared to think about. One of the demons kicked her feet out from under her and she scrambled to regain her footing as quickly as she had fallen. If they got her on the ground ---

She tried with all her might to inch closer to the doorway. If she could just make it to the tunnels, she'd be able to outrun them and there was no bad in that. What was a little running now and then? Who was she to turn her nose up at a good jog? Or an all out sprint?
A fist caught her in the jaw with enough force to bring tears to her eyes. She blocked the next swing with her upper arm and rammed a fist into the creature's stomach.

It doubled over, giving her a chance to spring upward and its back. She stepped on it, and leaped, gaining quite a few feet and almost making it to the door.
One of the vampires caught a handful of her hair and yanked backwards and for a second, she thought her neck had snapped, but luck was on her side. If you could call it that.

Luck was on her side in the form of a beefy red demon wearing a very expensive suit and Italian leather shoes.

"Enough!" he cried, looking thoroughly disgusted at the scene before him.

The vampire let go of her instantly and they all backed away. Buffy included. Even from a few feet away, she could feel power radiating off of him. The energy in the room fairly crackled.
He stepped into the lair and looked around, then his eyes rested on Buffy. She felt naked, exposed to his piercing red-orange gaze. "Hello, Slayer."

Buffy nodded and readied herself in a fighting stance. "We'll skip the pleasantries. Who are you?"

"Oh, but the pleasantries are the most fun." He took a step toward her, smiling when she stiffened, and extended a hand. "I'm Bob."

She almost laughed. "A demon named Bob?"

"A Slayer named Buffy?" he fired back.

"I'd tell you to go to hell, but since that's probably your home-"

"Come on, Slayer. Play nice." Bob kept his hand out. "I did save your neck."

"My neck wasn't in danger." Buffy spat angrily, then realized how stupid that sounded. She had been fighting *vampires* for God's sake. "What do you want?"

"I heard a rumor. Funny thing, that. You can hear all sorts of things if you try hard enough." Bob withdrew his hand and clasped his long scaly fingers. "There have been rumblings about you. Demons claiming that you're in need of money. Well, you killed the M'Fashnik demon who had stolen much of my business - so I have a proposition for you."

"You're not my type."

"How would you like to get paid for being a killer?"

The vampires nearest her rumbled in protest and Buffy shook her head. “Mostly I’d like to leave this place.”

Bob held his arm out, bent slightly, the way old fashioned men would escort a lady to a cotillion. “Allow me.”

“I don’t let demons touch me.”

He grinned. “I’ve heard different. But that is neither here nor there. Come along. We really do have much to talk about. I swear to you that I will not harm you.”

“I swear to you that you’d have a better chance of -”

“Please, Buffy. The bravado, the quips. It grows tiresome. Come with me or I’ll let you get back to dying at the hands of these mongrels.”

As an ultimatum, it was damned good. She accepted his proffered arm and climbed the steps, falling into place beside him as they walked back through the tunnels. His arm was big, bulging with muscle that had been camoflauged beneathe the expensive suit. He patted her hand in a gesture that was as freaksome as it was oddly comforting and they strolled side by side toward town.

“I’ll pay you to kill demons. I would not ask you to kill humans.”

“That’s probably good because it would be a waste of time.”

“I like that you’re blunt.”

Light from Weatherly Park spilled through the sewer grates and she glanced up at him and gasped. He no longer had horns, red skin or demonic orange eyes. He looked human. Completely human. “What are you?”

“Bob.” He smiled down at her. “Bringer of bounties. Get it? B.O.B.”

“I get it. But I asked *what* you are. Not who.”

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

“What kind of *demon* are you?”

“Oh, I’m not a demon so much as a shapeshifter. I can morph into scary facades to get what I want. Back there I looked like Belzor. Belzor is a demon who is coming to town to look for something these vampires you were playing with happen to be hiding.” He gave an amused shrug. “They were terrified.”

“I actually had noticed that.”

“I need you to help me kill Belzor.”

“Why?”

“Because if he gets his hands, er ... claws, on what those vampires have then he’ll bring about an apocolypse and really, I’m just over those.”

“You and me both.” She stopped beside the ladder that would lead her into the cemetery. “Why don’t I just dust the vamps and take whatever it is they have. Which is what, by the way?”

“It’s a talisman.”

“Well, that was not very climactic.”

“It’s a talisman that will allow the wearer to become invincible.”

“Oh, another gem of amara. Swell.”

“Very astute. It’s in the same family as the amaran gem, but it has mystical energy that, in the wrong hands, would open portals and unleash hell.”

“Don’t you just love it when that happens?”

“Not especially. I’m pretty sure the hellbeasts that I impersonate would take a great deal of offense to my shenanigans. The fewer that find their way to this side of the world, the better.”

“That’s probably true.”

“Tell you what.” He smiled at her, looking like a male model in a toothpaste commercial. “You help me kill Belzor and the talisman is yours. I know there are a couple of vampires in your life-”

“How do you know about my life? You spy on me?”

“You were my bounty for a while. It was my job to know about your life. Then, on the night I was supposed to kill you, you did an olympic rate dive off a platform.” He mimicked her walking and diving with his hands. “And then the hit was off.”

“Who hired the hit?”

“A hellgod named Glory. But you smashed her to pieces and then your watcher killed her host.” Bob casually leaned against the ladder. “So, you died and her minions still paid up, but with her dying and you coming back ... the bounty was removed. You’re safe as can be. From me at least.”

“But you *have* been spying on me?”

“For quite some time. Look, you need money and I need an assassin. It’s just that simple.”

“Not to sound ungrateful, but you giving me a talisman isn’t going to pay my mortgage.”

“The talisman was yours because I thought you’d like it. You’ll be paid one hundred thousand dollars for your first hit. Belzor. I’ll give you half up front and the rest when it’s done.”

Her jaw dropped open so far that it actually popped. “A hundred thousand dollars?”

“Yes.”

“There has to be a catch, though.”

“It’s good to be wary.” He studied her. “The catch is simple. Our contract is for life. Yours, to be exact. You still get to slay your demons and commit to your higher calling, but your life is essentially mine. Until you die you will work for me. With me. And you do what is asked of you.”

“You get to kill me when you’re done with me. Is that it?”

“No. Once you agree to become a partner you’re protected in our circle. As a matter of fact, our services are available to you should you run into something you can’t control. A hell god, for example.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Here.” He pulled a scroll wrapped in a pretty, yellow ribbon from the front pocket of his coat. “This explains every aspect of it. What we expect. What you can expect. If you decide that you want in all you have to do is press a bloody fingerprint to the parchment. If you decide that you don’t want it, simply burn the scroll and we’ll forget this happened.”

“Why can’t I work non-contract? I’ve never liked unions.”

“This isn’t a union. It’s The Alliance.” He handed her the scroll. “I was contracted when I was fourteen. My father and my grandfather had both been contracted at a young age and I was grateful to be called. You’ve been called once before, Buffy, and you accepted your role as the Slayer. This is no different. We simply pay better.”

She held the scroll in her hand, studying it. “Is this one of those secret society things? I have to keep it on the down low?”

“You tell no one. To expose your role would get you killed.”

“By who?”

“Me.”

Her jaw tightened a little. “Do you have a match? A lighter? My answer is no.”

“Read it.” Bob patted her on the arm. “Just read it and see if we’re a match. That’s all I ask.”

She stowed the scroll in her back pocket and nodded. “I gotta go.”

“I’ll know your decision when you make it.” He told her. “It’s enchanted. If you agree, I’ll find you and we’ll plan Belzor’s death. Okay?”

“’Kay,” she told him, not looking back.

She wanted to be away from him.

Fast.

He was terrifying. It was that simple. Her blood was cold in her veins just being near him.

Pushing the grate aside, she climbed out into the middle of the cemetery and glanced around.
Then she ran as fast as she could, racing around headstones as if the hounds of hell were inches away.

*~*~*~*~