Mmm, minty… Ah, hello there, gentle readers. You caught me enjoying my evening tea. We Watchers so love this simple pastime.

Ahem. You, of course, are here, not to talk about this delightful English beverage, but to continue the fascinating tale of Ashley Davies, Slayer… of the Vampyrs.

When we last left our heroine, she had discovered her ancient birthright via the information super highway, that modern instrument commonly known as the 'Internet.' This was something that I, your humble narrator, tried my hardest to convey in accordance with the laws of the Watcher's Council. Would she have listened then, doubtlessly she could have avoided much of the struggle that lay ahead.

For, my dear readers, the vampyrs were out there regardless of the Slayer. And without her faithful Watcher(-in-training), a Slayer is nothing more than a frightened and helpless girl, struggling against a cold and…

What? I am telling the truth. No, I'm not… Fine.

Bloody Americans…

Hey, there. It's me again. Yeah, Andrew's still a dork. And for the record, he's not British.

Yeah, okay, so anyway, I confirmed that Andrew was in fact telling the truth about me being a Vampire Slayer. Well, I had good evidence in any case. Besides the demon website, being able to toss my dresser around the room was pretty convincing.

So, the next day, I went to the police station to bail him out. They told me that would be impossible, however, as he was actually a criminal wanted for attempting to rob a bank… in Sunnydale, as it turned out. Visiting hours were over, so I had to leave empty handed.

Now, I wasn't sure what the story was behind the bank robbing thing. On the one hand, he seemed like he wanted to help, but on the other hand I really knew nothing about him. Though, I reminded myself, he was from Sunnydale, and that's where this whole mess seemed to start.

A bit more computer research told me that despite being a small town, prior to the detonation, Sunnydale was actually competing with Chicago for the title of Murder Capital of America. Seriously, it was amazing it had lasted as long as it had with the kind of crime rates it had built up over the past hundred years.

It occurred to me that maybe Sunnydale was a vampire cesspool, and Andrew's crime was entirely justified. By extension, perhaps the terrorists were trying to eliminate a good chunk of the vampire population in an extremely violent manner. Maybe he was even one of them. After all, both he and the demon website had confirmed a link between the Vampire Slayer thing and Sunnydale's destruction.

However, at that point, I could only speculate. Unable to do anything about Andrew, I just went about my life as normal. Well, things were almost normal.

One night at Gray – that's this club I liked – I was sitting and waiting for Marty to come back with drinks, when I found myself drawn to this guy. It wasn't even that he was hot. He was just your average guy lounging in the corner, watching girls with the typical oh-so-superior guy smirk.

Normally I wouldn't have given him even a second disgusted glance. But as we'd established earlier, tonight was not normal. Not in the least, really…

So, he saw that I was staring and decided to come and chat. Lucky me. If I was paying enough attention, I would have noticed how short it took him to walk across the floor. I glanced away one moment, and the next…

"Hey there, cutie."

The guy now stood beside me and leaned up against my table with a smug grin. I gave him a glare to show him I wasn't interested, muttering a "Hey." Not like that would be enough to stop him, of course.

"You here alone?" he asked, making it clear he intended to fix that problem.

"No," I emphasized.

He stared oddly at me, and there was something about him…

"Can I help you?"

And Marty was back, drinks in hand. He looked at the newcomer with the suspicion he deserved.

"Yeah, get me one of those, will ya?" he waved a hand at the drinks, as though Marty was a waiter or something.

"He was just leaving," I stressed. "He thought I was single, but he was wrong." I turned to him to demand that he leave me the hell alone, and hesitated. There was this strange sort of pull about him, like an uneven pool table making all the balls roll to one place… if that makes any sense…

"You and me both know that's not the full story…"

It took me a moment to realize he had said something. "What?"

"What?" Marty asked. His eyes narrowed in anger. "Get the hell away from my girlfriend, you creep."

I knew I should be grateful for him backing me up like that, but I couldn't take my eyes off this stranger. There was just something about him… His eyes were like black holes, impossible to escape from.

"Hey," he whispered to me, his voice powerful, seeming to echo throughout my thoughts. "What's your name?"

"Ashley Davies," I muttered before I knew what happened.

He grinned with excitement, a devilish sort of excitement. About this time, I was feeling really weird, like when the dentist puts you on nitrous oxide and you feel like you're sinking inside of yourself or whatever. "Hey, Ashley, I need to talk with you in private," he told me, and it was like I knew it was true. "If your boyfriend doesn't mind…"

"He doesn't," I mumbled. I walked away from Marty, following the stranger outside. But every second that I wasn't staring into the stranger's eyes, my head got a little more clear.

Eventually, I realized just what a bad move it was to follow him into the back alley. By then, it was too late to turn around. I figured I better just listen to what the guy had to say, and then hurry back and apologize to my boyfriend. "So, what's up?" I asked.

The guy just shook his head and grinned. "Ashley Davies, huh? I never killed a moviestar's daughter before…"

Follow some weird guy into a dark alley? Yeah, I knew this was a bad idea. I did just learn I was stronger than Jill Mills, though, so I wasn't totally an idiot, was I?

"You can scream if you like," he said casually, as though commenting on the décor. He stalked toward me. "It won't do you any good, but it might make things interesting."

I reacted on instinct. Balling up my hand into a fist, I slammed it into his face. He fell, sliding across the ground several feet away. "He's a rockstar, jackass!"

He looked up at me fiercely, his eyes transformed with a golden sheen. "Slayer," he growled. Then his face… shifted. It was like extra bones suddenly grew on his skull, and his teeth jutted out into sharp, deadly fangs.

I suppose I should have been expecting this, or at least prepared for the possibility that it might happen; however, I could only stand there in shock. Vampires… were real. All of this… it was all real… including the very real vampire that was right in front of me.

"I knew there was something about you!" He swung up on his feet with an unnatural grace, like a tiger or a panther, and stalked toward me. "They say Slayer blood tastes the best…"

I held up my fists and slowly backed away, trying to figure out what to do. What killed a vampire? I wished I'd studied that website a little more thoroughly! I tried to run through what usually worked in the movies. Sunlight? About nine hours away. Silver bullet? I didn't even have a gun! Wooden stake? I looked around…

Yes! There was a dirty wooden box lying against the wall with some kind of Chinese food logo stamped on the side. It would have to do.

Eying the vampire, I made a dive for the box. Lifting it up, I felt the red lightning fill me, and then I snapped off an end, making a sharp edge. The vampire lunged. I had just enough time to twist the wood piece into place, shoving into the creep's chest… and he exploded into a pillar of dust.

God, I'll tell you, that stuff gets everywhere. It was all over my clothes, my hair, my face… Yuck.

But, hey, I just killed a vampire!

Going back inside Gray,I ducked into the bathroom to clean myself up as best as I could, and then went looking for Marty… who wasn't there. Turned out he'd left without waiting for me. I can't exactly say I blame him, either.

I went back home and tried to call him, but he wasn't interested in talking. I wasn't quite sure what to say, though. 'I was hypnotized by a vampire'?

The next day, he still wasn't answering my calls. Sometime after noon, though, someone rang the doorbell. Thinking it could be Marty, I enthusiastically opened the door only to see none other than my tweed-wearing visitor, this time carrying a bunch of old, worn books.

"Okay, please give me a chance!" he cried, not even bothering to pretend to be British. "I've collected a lot of literature, a- and I'd really like it if you could at least look at a- a chapter or two. I-I-It could help answer your questions… or if you don't want to read, I could try reading it to you, but I'm not sure much I could do because these books are all really in depth and there's a lot of words, many of them old, and I'm prone to pharyngitis. Now, I know that sounds lame, but my genes aren't that good. See, my mom was actually…"

"Andrew," I interrupted, recalling his name from the police station. "That's your name, right? Andrew?" I wondered how he had gotten out when even the opportunity of Davies bail money hadn't persuaded the cops.

"Um, yes. Andrew Wells, eternal servant of the Watcher's Council and devoted follower of Buffy Summers, greatest of all Slayers…" He looked like he would just keep rambling on forever.

"Andrew!" I held up a hand. "It's okay. I get it. I'm a Slayer, right?"

"You are indeed, my dear child!" And the fake British accent was back, accompanied by awe. "Ashley Davies…" he paused dramatically for several seconds; I waited. "You have been blessed with the strength and ability to take on the vampyrs, the daemons, and the forces of darkness. You are a Slayer!"

"Cool." I shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll… slay vampires if I happen to run into them. I mean, this is L.A., how many vampires or 'daemons' could there be?"

"Hundreds upon hundreds," he responded with a grin. I wondered if he wasn't exaggerating. He lowered his voice for dramatic effect, "But you will not have to face it alone. For I have come to escort you to an undisclosed location in Europe, where your training in the combat arts shall begin."

This sounded oddly familiar. "Like Hogwarts?"

Andrew disagreed. "More like the Hall of Justice." At my blank look: "The headquarters of the Justice League of America! God, don't you people read graphic novels?"

"You mean comics? Not really," I denied. I never really got into stuff like that… not that this had to do with anything. He does that, you know? "I'm not going, in any case. This is my home, as screwed up as it can sometimes be. I have a life here. I have a guy." Though, that last part was a bit of an overstatement at this point.

He looked up at that. "Is he cute?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Cute? He's adorable!"

Andrew sighed. "Then maybe I can do something… Can I use your phone?"

"…Sure," I agreed. "Come in." I led him into the hall with a phone he could use. I then thought of something that I was curious about. "So, Andrew, were you one of the terrorists who nuked Sunnydale?"

"Don't be silly, my dear child," Andrew scoffed. "Sunnydale wasn't nuked. No, no, a most noble vampyr blessed with a soul used a mystical amulet acquired from an evil law firm to incinerate an army of primordial vampyrs and collapse the portal to hell, while me and the Scooby Gang escaped in a school bus."

"Oh, yeah," I muttered. "I'm sorry, I was being silly."

"Think nothing of it, child," he said, missing my sarcasm entirely. He set his books down on a nearby chair, and began dialing.

I walked into the next room to give him some privacy, but I'm definitely sure I heard him say, "The password is 'flying monkey demon.'" Oookay…

While he made his call, I made a call of my own with my cell, one last chance to talk to Marty. This time he actually answered… only to promptly break up with me when I couldn't think up a legitimate excuse. "Great…" I sighed. "Scratch the cute boyfriend."

It sounded like Andrew was done with his call, so I stepped back to find him grinning like a little kid told he can help himself to all the ice cream he can eat.

"Hey, Ashley," he called, "Great news! Dawn said that I'm not needed back in Italy. From this point on, I shall be your own, personal Watcher!"

Lucky me.

Ah, wasn't that a delightful chapter in our saga? Our dear Ashley may have lost her boyfriend, but she has gained something far more valuable: a Watcher(-in-training). Word is, she's not that into guys, anyway.

Well, I would very much like to continue our foray into the wondrous world of Ashley Davies, Slayer of Vampyrs; however, our time must, regrettably, be cut short once more. You see, a lonely Slytherin has just discovered that his soul mate may be closer than he ever dreamed possible.

Good day, dear readers, and fare well.