First Dance [Janelle/Azrael]

She paused as she reached the steps, the windows were dark, and she had an eerie feeling. She dismissed it as nothing more than being in an unfamiliar place alone. Just as she had made the mistake of disregarding her instincts the previous night. She was slow on making the connection between if something was dangerous, or just new. Something she had almost come to regret. Leaving Texas had been an overwhelming change for her. She had to leave everything she had ever known behind. The comforts of home, and common occurrences where a thing of the past. Everything in Midnight Harbour had forced her to adjust, and being the slayer only made it that much more of a challenge. Her new abilities and surroundings made her feel as if she had to rediscover who she was all over again. She had not felt this lost since her grandmother had died.

She missed her home, she missed the farm, she missed the flower beds, and the trees. The frame of her new home looked like a hollow shell, and it reflected how she felt. She had lost everything, all because the world needed a savior. It was unfair, but how many things had ever been fair in life? She wanted nothing more than to hop on a plane and fly home, to her real home. She felt abandoned by her old life. In one swift night, it was all taken from her. This was the first true moment that she had been alone, and reality was starting to sink in. She refused to cry, or let herself be swallowed by despair. Instead, she wrapped herself tighter. She was used to having to be strong for everyone else, and it was time for her to be strong for herself. At least until she was locked inside, and under her blankets where she could hide her pain from the world.

She closed her eyes, and exhaled deeply. With her eyes closed, her other senses heightened to compensate for her loss of sight. She heard distant echoes of street cars, a dog barking in the distance, and various other common noises that she ignored. Then a soft ringing noise that sounded out of place. She wanted to just be still, and try to make peace with the terrible hand she had been dealt in life, but her new instincts fought against her. She dropped her head, and turned it to look behind her.

There was a group of men, all looking at her. Her mind quickly darted to unpleasant, brutal thoughts. Then she remembered she was a slayer, and that ‘men’ were the least of her worries. The despair evaporated, and ‘the girl’ took the backseat, as ‘the slayer’ snatched the wheel. She reflexively reached for her stake. It seemed every undead thing wanted a piece of her lately, all wanting a taste of the new blood. She was too pissed off for this nonsense, she was having herself a moment, on her own front porch no less. Stupid creatures had no respect for…. Well not that she really expected them too. She planned to make this quick. If anything she had learned that slaying could be therapeutic. Before, she had never even cared for violence, but that was before she got a taste for it. She dropped her bag, and started down the steps. She was grateful that her new neighbors all seemed asleep, or uninterested.

Before she could even sigh with exhaustion, another one popped into the crowd. How did they all seem to know where she lived? Before her mind could even register what had happened, there was an explosion of dust. Her eyes darted to comprehend what had happened. There was only one left. He stood before her with a sword, and a cloud of dust where the vampires had once been. She blinked, blinked again, and dropped her stake. He had just killed six vampires in seconds. Whereas she had struggled with two.

She looked down at him and idly wondered who, or what he was. Never realizing her mouth was open in shock. He had to have been another slayer like her, why not she had already met another one. There was no telling what else was out there. Surely, she couldn’t be the only person that was given abilities to protect the world from creatures of darkness. The only clear thought that registered, was how bad ass swords were, and that she wanted one.

Then he smiled at her, and she forgot how to breathe. So he wasn’t going to kill her, he had just helped her, possibly saved her life. She smiled, who the hell was this guy. He said something, but her cogitative functions were still melted. This guy was way older then Phoenix, and way more polished at slaying then she was. It was impressive to say the least. Her instincts were screaming danger, but they always did that around older guys. So she ignored them…once again. She barely realized that he had spoken to her. She wondered if he even knew who she was.

“Who are you?” she asked, fighting for the words. She was still in shock, but that could have been partly from the loss of blood. She didn’t know what to say, or even if the words would make it out of her mouth. He had managed to stun her.

Thunder cracked in the distance, and it startled her back into reality. She gathered herself, and found her composure. Impressive yes, but that also meant he was dangerous. He had the skills to turn her into little Janelle shreds with the sword, if he wanted. She doubted he would, or obviously, he would have done it by now. She privately hoped he wasn’t here to meet some equally bad ass slayer, because she just wasn’t. She feared he would be terribly unimpressed with her. Or best case scenario he would teach her how to do…whatever the hell he just did.

“Well judging by the fact you showed up at my house with a sword, and didn’t hesitate to go all medieval on the vamps…. I’m gonna assume you already know who I am. I’m Janelle,” she said giving him, her name, assuming he already knew what she was by reputation. She felt a rain drop hit her nose, and she looked up at the sky. It was darker than usual a clear indication it would rain soon. She was glad she wasn’t battling six vampires on her own in the middle of a storm. She dropped her eyes back to him. He had an unusual accent, one she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t want to call him on it. She had been made uncomfortable because of her own on more than one occasion. It just didn’t seem polite to point it out.

She reached down to pick up her stake, and when she did she felt the skin under her left shoulder rip. Being thrown against the mausoleum had done more damage then she had thought. She felt warm blood ooze down her back. So not only had she ruined her jeans, but her top was obviously destined for the trash as well. She realized that her ribs were still sore when she lifted back up, but the slayer healing was doing its job. At least her searing headache was gone.

"And you.... are bleeding.."

“No big, it will heal,” she played it off, but her leg and shoulder were burning with sharp pain. After seeing his amazing skills, she felt more self conscious about the lack of her own. She was the slayer dammit, all predestined and chosen. Ok, so she had only had the gig for like a week, but still. She didn’t want him to know just how bad she was at it. Like for example leading a crowd of vampires to her home by leaving a scent trail of her blood.

"You're welcome by the way..."

Her eyes went wide with shock, she knew better than that, where were her manners. If her grandmother were alive…. She instantly covered her mouth with her free hand. “I’m sorry, thankyou!” she felt like an idiot, but it wasn’t every day a guy came along all heroic like. She was still a little stunned from the impressiveness of it all. But not that she was going to let him see that.

“But I could have taken care of it myself, I was looking forward to it. A little violence before bedtime is just what I needed,” she said trying to seem as put out as possible. He seemed so much ‘more’, and she wanted to get to know who, and what he was. He looked experienced, worldly, and attractive in a way that wasn’t her typical bad boy type. Obviously, he was here to seek out the slayer, and she didn’t want him to realize that the slayer was just a cheerleader in high school who was surviving solely on luck. The thunder cracked again, and rain began to trickle down more consistently.

“Did you wanna come in?” she asked, more than anything just wanting to get out of the rain.

When he said her name, she mentally kicked herself for liking how it sounded when it rolled off his tongue. There was a spark in his eyes, and somehow she just knew he was going to be trouble. Men with eyes like that usually were their own special brand of it. And she knew from years of experience that she was a trouble magnet. Even before she had been chosen as a slayer.

“And what would you know about slayers?” she asked a bit of playfulness in her voice. Idly she was still wondering if there were two male slayers. She was trying to mask her pain, but her Adrenaline was fading, and the pain was becoming more apparent. She had planned on taking a long hot shower, and soaking her wounds, and her pride. Treating her leg would be easy, but she did not have enough experience to even know how to take care of the one on her shoulder. How would she even reach it. She figured she could just sleep on her side, and let it heal over night. Trusty slayer healing should do the rest.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself!” she added for good measure. She did not want him to get the wrong impression that she was a damsel that needing saving. “ I didn’t need your assistance, but thank you anyways,” she said. She was trying to prove she could hold her own, but years of being taught to respect others kept getting in the way. That and her deep gratitude.

The rain bottomed out, and she ran under the canopy of the porch. The random rain drops had already made her damp, and she was in no mood to be soaking wet. She picked up her bag, unlocked the door, and tossed the bag and her stake on the couch next to the door. Unarming herself, unaware of the danger. She had always been too trusting, and too eager to find the good in people. The thought of risk never crossed her mind.

She pulled off her jean jacket, and tossed it over the back of an armchair. She switched on a table lamp, which lit the room just enough to cast shadows over everything. She turned to the side and looked at the scratch along her lower shoulder in the mirror. It was bad, deep, and coated in blood. She stretched her neck to get a better view, but it only made her wince. So much for being a bad ass, she thought.

“I might let you do this one, I plan on getting some sleep tonight without coating my sheets in blood,” she said her resolve fading a bit now that she was in the comfort of her own home. She was safe from vampires at the moment, and she felt the weight of her burden slip from her shoulders. She took a step away from the mirror hanging on the wall, and turned to face him. “On one condition, you tell me what you are, and how you got all Aragorn with that sword,” she said. She could physically feel ‘the girl’ slipping back into the driver’s seat, and the slayer deciding to take a nap in the back.

She raised her eyebrows as he confirmed her suspicion that he did indeed know something about slayers, but her lips tightened in frustration, as he wouldn’t say exactly what that was. He was playing his ‘mystery card’ to its full advantage, and if he was not going to show his hand, then she saw no need for to show her own. She was in an entirely new world, and this was an entirely new game for her. She knew nothing of the potentials it could possess, if vampires, and demons were real then what else could there be. It was obvious he was something more than human, and he seemed to be annoyingly aware of exactly what she was. She hated feeling at a disadvantage.

She titled her head in concentration when he said that it should be obvious to her what he was. Nothing was obvious anymore. She had lived her entire life thinking that the world simply dropped off at the city limit sign of her small town. Now she was in a city, with gangs of vampires following her to her door and trying to kill her. It annoyed her slightly that he acted as if he was so intelligent, but he had wrongly assumed her abilities. Maybe he didn’t know anything about slayers at all. Maybe it was all just an act to impress her. It had worked, but the astonishing spontaneity had started to fade.

She could see the heartbreak on his face, it was one of loss and suffering, one she had known quite intimately herself. She had always had a natural ability to experience pain when others around her felt it, and it was somewhat overwhelming. Her need to ease the suffering of others had always been so strong, and mixed with her new slayer senses it felt intensified. She had made the move to console him, but his next words stopped her dead in her tracks, and sent an icy shiver racing down her spine.

“Vampire…” she whispered silently, for no other reason than to confirm it to herself. Janelle slipped into the backseat, and once again the slayer took the reins full force. Those heightened senses she had felt, it wasn’t because of some attractive man, or lust, or the danger a man could impress upon her. It was nothing normal or natural at all. Everything in her mind crashed as she made the connection to what the unfamiliar sensation meant. Her watcher had explained it as something similar to menstrual cramps. It was nothing like that at all. That was what she got for listening to a man tell her about what she should be feeling. She knew what that meant now, it was part of her power. It was a warning system. She had never felt so idiotic as she felt at that moment. Not only had she failed to understand it, she had also been ignoring it. And now she had a possibly ancient, extremely powerful, vampire inside her home. She felt her entire body tense in fear.

She listened to his words, but her mind kept flashing back to Clara, her first watchers words. Janelle had been against killing things. Until Clara explained that they were dead, dangerous, and soulless creatures. They were incapable of love, or mercy, and they should be killed. Even if they looked like her friend, once they were turned the demon took possession of their body. It was something she should never forget. Janelle was currently having a mental struggle, as to what was what. Vampires were evil, she knew that, she saw that. Then again, her watcher had only said there was only one slayer, and she already knew that to be false. What else could they be wrong about. There was supposed to always be an exception to every rule. However, the thing she kept coming back to was that if Azrael wanted her dead, she would be dead.

She was too stunned to speak, but the fear and lack of trust in her eyes were apparent. He had broken her trust by not announcing what he was. He had gained an invite into her house. She stood perfectly still, unsure what to do. Fighting would be pointless; she reasoned he could probably kill her with both eyes closed and his arms tied behind his back. It wasn’t fair, and it was nothing short of suicide. Her best chance would be to go along with it, and hope Shoshana could find a way to un-invite him in her books. Or her and her father would just have to move. She had learned her lesson about inviting people inside her home.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you were before,” she said, finally after a long pause. She didn’t touch his sword, she didn’t move. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide what to make of him. He had betrayed her trust, but he seemed genuine in his hatred for what he was. Her shoulder was still bleeding, and the pain was stinging to the point she couldn’t ignore. But there was a vampire in the room, being exposed to her blood, something vampires were supposed to be unable to resist. The proof of the affect of her blood was in the big pile of ash outside her door. So why wasn’t he making a move to drain her. Then she asked the most important question. “Have you ever killed a slayer?” she folded her arms as she asked this, feeling defensive, and vulnerable.

She swallowed, as glad as she was not to have her father there, she hated that she had to be alone. Alone in a house that didn’t feel like a home, with a vampire that was capable of killing her before she even had a chance to lift a finger to stop him. Instead of feeling fear, or panic, she became numb. It was something she had gotten good at over the years. Losing her grandmother, never having a mother, and losing her father emotionally had taken their toll on her. She had never truly gotten over it, and instead of feeling the searing pain, she had learned to become as indifferent as possible. Like now. He had betrayed what little bit of trust she had foolishly put in him. How long would it be before Phoenix or Shoshana did the same? She was tired of feeling so alone, of pretending she didn’t care. But practice had made perfect and she formed her face into an unreadable mask. If he wanted to kill her then she would not given him the satisfaction of a tears. Trusting people, trying to love people, attempting to be there for people had caused her nothing but pain, and it seemed being the slayer only amplified that. Now her life was literally on the line.

“It might have been fair for me to know what you were, you knew what I was. You knew that I was dangerous to you, I should have been shown the same courtesy,” she said, taking a careful step back. In her mind, she had two thoughts going simultaneously. One was to keep him talking, to figure out where his motives where. The second was an escape plan. He was between herself and her stake that she had stupidly thrown on the couch. Her only other stake was upstairs. Next best thing, wooden spoon in the kitchen behind her. She took another step back, trying to be as unsuspicious as possible.

She knew that vampires would show no mercy, so she did not really expect him to play fair. Announcing what he was, that was probably only because he felt like a cat toying with a mouse. She was not going to be anyone’s mouse, even if she had to play the act of helpless, innocent, damsel until she could get backed up enough to the kitchen drawer holding the blunt wooden spoon. She had no better options, at least none that she could see.

“You wanted to help me? By what following me home, following the scent of my blood like the others? And then what killing them so you could have dibs?” Her poker face remained intact, but her lips were tight as she spoke. She knew her disadvantage, she knew she had zero odds, but she was still a survivor, and she was well into defense mode. She took another brave step back. She kept her eyes on his, trying to lock in a connection to keep him distracted.

When he confirmed he had killed another slayer, her face became solid, and unreadable. Years of practice made it perfectly still as stone. He looked pained by it, and she could see the regret on his face. But it made no difference. He was a vampire, he killed slayers, he was in her house. She had suffered too many surprises, to many things that had once seemed impossible were now possible. She had lost all control of the future of her life, that she refused to lose control of her current situation. Good, evil, friend, foe. It didn’t matter, what mattered was he had put her on an uneven playing field. He had an invite into her home, easy access to her father. She took another step back, the distance was too big to be ignored now. The space between them had grown.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she said honestly. She tried to play it off, as she was nervous and wanted to put space between them. She used her intimate knowledge of the kitchen that she alone had semi unpacked. She backed herself up against the kitchen counter, and for the first time she breathed. She leaned against it, and felt her hand slide down to the drawer.

He exposed his neck, and she took it as a sign of wanting to gain her trust…or wanting to draw her in closer for the kill. Either way she refused to take the bait, innocent or not. With his head down, she made her move and with slayer quickness she grasped the spoon like a stake. It was thin, and would probably break under the pressure of his chest, but having a weapon made all the difference.

When the lightning cracked, it made her realize just how strong her reflexes really were. She felt herself go to jump in surprise, only to catch herself and remained focus on the danger near her door. She felt tensed, as if ever muscle in her body was ready to either strike or defend. This was not something she had trained to do, just another added benefit of the slayer package. She felt so stupid, this entire time she was associating the feeling with hot guys, how much of a skank was she really. But she knew the answer, she wasn’t. She had felt so lost over the last week that she wanted the comfort, she wanted to felt loved. If nothing else the distraction of boys was always welcomed to interrupt the flow of thoughts about death she was having. It seemed that everything about her had changed, it was so obvious to her now, everything about her was designed to kill. That was what she was, she was death, and the only way to escape it was to die. So she embraced it.

She was uncertain what to do with this new revelation, or if it would ever do her any good. She did feel her resolve become stronger, as did her faith in herself. She was a killer, she killed evil things, this was who she was now. If she did not keep that at the forefront of her mind, then she would die, or invite strange vampires into her house. The vampire that was currently in front of her was also a killer, she had to remember that. Once she had a weapon near she felt herself relax. She felt calmer, more in control. She did not like that control to be taken from her. It made her to vulnerable.

“You have a sword, I have a… stake. I should be able to defend myself,” she said putting it simply. She needed a weapon to make herself feel stronger. Then she took her free hand and removed the hair from her neck exposing it. She watched his eyes to see if they would linger on where her pulse was, to see if he was tempted.

“I don’t know how to use it,” what use was a sword to an untrained hand. Then again, she was sure nothing she could do would be good enough if she ever had to face him. When he turned away, she felt herself exhale silently. He wasn’t going to kill her. He was willing to leave because he had made her uncomfortable. He had every opportunity in the world to make a move, but he hadn’t. Her natural need to trust others, and to find the good in them scratched its way to the surface, the slayer had been ignoring it, wanting to keep herself safe. However, the slayer was no longer in control, and Janelle’s eyes softened.

She watched him stand at her open door, listened to the rain, as her mind raced frantically. He made her feel like he was taking her on a guilt trip, but then again years of loneliness for a good vampire would probably make one desperate for company. He had a permanent invite into her house, what more damage could she do. “Do vampires drink coffee?” she said, trying to be polite, but still cautious. She was still bleeding, and she felt it was best to dilute the scent of her blood with others. “It is still raining; you can stay if you want. My dad will be home in a little bit, but we have time for coffee,” she said in a calm, easy, practiced tone. The ‘my dad will be home soon’ act had always been useful for getting rid of boys that had overstayed their welcome. Of course her dad would probably roll in around noon tomorrow, but the vampire couldn’t possibly know that. Plus it gave her some control over the situation, and an excuse to get him to leave whenever she was ready.

She couldn’t resist the temptation of getting to know him more, who was he. He wasn’t like the other bloodthirsty, mindless killers she had been exposed to so far. He was something else. Spoon still in hand, she tried to look patient, and unafraid. She had no desire to kill him, but she was not ready to disarm herself yet.