DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters belong to Fox Studios, Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2001 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
Set in Stone
"So you wish to know
your fortune, pretty lady?" The
exotic young man stared boldly up at Christine Chapel.
"Not really." At his look, she continued, "I have a
pretty good idea of my destiny. But
thanks."
"No one really knows
their destiny."
Christine smiled
bitterly. "Oh, believe me, I
do." She walked away before the man
could find a suitable retort.
She knew her destiny all too
well. At one time she had thought she
had outrun it, hidden from it. She had
retired, for god's sake. But ever since
the
Destiny. Destiny sucked, she thought as she continued
down the row of merchants and fortunetellers that made up the majority of the
market on Andus IV. Hell, being a
vampire slayer sucked. Especially in
space. She hadn't expected to find
vampires out here. Of course, they
weren't always called vampires and they all had their own preferred species of
victim. But they still died the same
way. Nice pointy stake to the
heart—provided you knew where the heart was.
She made it her business to
know. That knowledge might be the only
thing that stood between death and her...or the people she loved.
She could see Spock about ten
steps ahead. She couldn't stop a small
smile. He had become so dear to
her. When her secret had been exposed,
she had expected him to react with disgust at her role as an executioner. But he had not. And the polite disinterest he had always
shown her had changed. He had seemed
intrigued by this new Christine.
But that time was long ago. They had faced evil together since then. Fought side by side...and slept side by side
afterwards. He cared for her. Would do anything for her. It should be enough.
But somehow it wasn't. Not when there was always some new evil to be
faced. She wanted to quit, but she knew
that she would never have that chance again.
She had hidden from it for many years but, once renewed, her destiny
would not now be denied.
And her destiny was to some
day be a little distracted, a little too slow, and ultimately a lot too dead.
She sighed.
Spock slowed. He didn't turn but she had the feeling he
could sense her sudden downturn in her mood.
She mentally picked herself up, sent him a quick, *I'm all right.*
She wasn't sure he had gotten
the words, but he seemed to have read her tone right because he started to walk
faster again. They were looking for
something very specific. They had heard
of a rash of killings that seemed to be centered around this market. The rumors they had heard pointed to a
fortuneteller—one who was really a vampire with a taste for green blood. So they were looking for any booths that
weren't open for business yet, even though the competition had been on the job
since early morning. It was still light
out. Plenty of time to find a fortuneteller
that was sun-shy, but Christine wanted to hurry.
"You are troubled, my
child," a wizened Andorian smiled gently at her.
"I'm late," she
lied.
"You rush and you
die." The Andorian's expression did
not alter. "You hunt dangerous
game. Take care that you do not become
the hunted."
Christine felt a chill run
through her. She refused to think about
the dreams she'd been having. Dreams
that left her sweating and drained. She
saw Spock look back. His expression to
anyone else would appear to be only the calm Vulcan mask, but she knew him well
enough to see the concern.
She tossed a coin to the
Andorian. "Thanks for the
tip." She forced herself to grin.
He did not smile back. "Evil sometimes wins."
She shook her head. "Not for long."
His eyes were gentle. "Long enough to destroy something
beautiful."
"Something just as
beautiful will replace it." She
knew her voice was bitter.
"Impossible. Nothing can replace the essence that is
you. We are all unique." He gave her a shared professional smile. "And some of us are more unique than
others."
Christine fought the urge to
sit down with him. She suddenly wanted
so badly to talk to someone who truly seemed to understand. "I've got to go."
He nodded. "Good hunting, Slayer."
Spock was watching her from a
nearby vendor. He raised an eyebrow at
her.
"I'm fine," she
answered softly, as she passed him. She
knew he would wait for her to get ahead before rejoining the hunt.
A few booths away, Christine
found what she was seeking. The booth
was empty. A sign said, "Open after
dark."
Spock passed her and she
quickly studied the neighboring merchants until she was sure she could find the
spot again once the sun had gone down.
She caught up with Spock two
blocks out of the market. They walked
back together to their lodging.
"Open after dark. Doesn't get much more obvious than that, does
it?"
"It does not." He turned to look at her. "Are you all right?"
"I told you. I'm fine."
"You say that, but I see
evidence to the contrary. You are not
sleeping. And you have been irritable
lately."
"Yeah, well not sleeping
does that to a girl." She walked
faster.
His hand reached out and
gently pulled her back. She could have
broken away easily. He was very strong,
but she was stronger.
"Christine." His voice held the endless patience that
always undid her.
"I'm sorry." She put her hand over his, let his heat warm
her for a minute before she pulled away.
"Life with you is never
predictable," he observed.
"That's an
understatement." She laughed for
the first time since they'd beamed down.
"You're probably a saint to put up with me."
"Undoubtedly," he
agreed.
"Or just stupid,"
she teased.
"My intelligence has
never been in question."
"No. But your common sense is another thing
altogether."
They walked in silence for a
moment.
"I assume you have a
plan?"
Christine looked at him. "I kill it."
"Ah."
"You have a problem with
that plan?"
"It is not much of a
plan. More of an end state."
"Whatever. That thing is dust, Spock."
"So you will just walk
up to the booth and stake the proprietor?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What
if you are wrong? There are several
harmless species that cannot tolerate sunlight."
"I take it you have a plan?"
"I do."
"Let me guess, it
involves using you as bait?"
"As the creature has
only attacked beings with copper-based blood, my approach is logical."
"Yes. It is."
"And you do not like
it."
"Nope." Her bad mood was returning quickly.
"It is the only way you
will know that you have the right person."
"There are other
ways. Ways that don't involve putting
you at risk."
"If it has not fed since
the last victim, then it will be quite hungry, will it not?"
"Should be." She followed him into their inn. "So you'll be the first Vulcan ever to
want his fortune read?"
"Romulan," he
corrected.
"Oh. Sure.
There's a plan. Do you even speak
Romulan?"
"A bit. Do you really think this creature will?"
"For all we know it
could be a Romulan. You said there are
no vampire legends on Vulcan?"
"None." He opened the door to their room.
"I think I'll retire
there," she declared, as she flopped on their bed.
He joined her. "That is not outside the realm of
possibility."
"No?" She touched his face gently as she admitted,
"Your plan was the only one I could come up with too."
He laced his fingers through
hers. "Nothing will happen to
me."
She kissed him. "I nearly lost you the last time we went
against a vampire."
"Spike would not have
let Drusilla harm me."
"Spike might not have
had a choice. If it hadn't been for
Uhura's quick thinking..."
"Shhh. It is not like you to dwell on—"
"It's exactly like
me. Or maybe you don't know me as well
as you think?" She moved away from
him to the other side of the bed.
He followed her. "Actually, I have been doing some
research. Peter has been very
helpful."
"Wyndam-Price has been
helpful with research on me?"
"No. On slayers.
Especially those who have survived as long as you have. Peter indicated that their outlook, their
mood, tended to darken the longer they survived. He isn't sure any have lived as long as
you."
"I'm this old because I
quit and hid out in the depths of outer space.
As a mild-mannered nurse that kept to herself. It was a good way to stay alive."
"But not much of a way
to live."
"Hey, still
breathing. Beats being dead." Images from her last dream came unbidden to
her mind. She closed her eyes,
shuddered.
"Christine, what is
it?"
She let him pull her close,
burrowed into his warmth.
"Tell me."
"I don't think I'm going
to survive this one."
She didn't realize that she'd
spoken aloud until he asked, "The dreams?"
She nodded. "And something one of the fortunetellers
said."
"Dreams, even those of a
slayer, are hardly infallible. As for a
fortuneteller, you know that what they say cannot be taken as anything
approaching truth."
"This one was
different. He knew who I was. What I was."
Spock did not reply.
"I can't always
win. Someday I'm going to slip up and
that'll be it."
"Yes, if you were alone,
it might be. But you are not alone. I do not understand why that is so hard for
you to accept."
She allowed him to push her
to her back. "I'm trying,
Spock."
"Try harder." He kissed her.
She chose not to argue,
allowed herself to surrender to the sensation of being loved by him.
-----------------------
Christine crept behind the
row of booths. She counted them down as she went. She had followed Spock as he led her back to
the suspect spot. The booth was open for
business and the fortuneteller, fortunately, had not been a Romulan. She was a Klatite, one of several unrelated
species with copper-based blood. The
woman had looked barely older than a teenager and was beautiful. Christine had suddenly felt very common as
she took in the other woman's lustrous black hair and amber eyes. Her skin showed the same greenish tinge as
Spock's. For a moment, Christine
considered what a lovely pair they would make.
Stop it, she ordered. The vampire
was going to die. She wasn't going to
turn Spock. Christine would never let
that happen. She'd die first. Just hopefully not tonight.
She was in position and could
hear the vampire moving around in the back of the booth. Christine froze, thankful that there was no
wind to carry her scent to the creature.
She heard Spock's voice. It sounded harsher, impatient, not Vulcan
anymore.
"Ah, who is this that
seeks to consult the spirits?"
"My name is
unimportant."
The vampire's voice was
silky. "Not to me. Here, I will
tell you mine. I am Hrema."
Christine heard the woman
walk away, so she moved to the back wall and found a crack large enough to
allow her to peek into the booth.
Hrema had her hand on Spock's
arm and was leading him to a chair.
"Oh very well, keep your name to yourself, my dear
Romulan." She sat down across from
him. "So you wish to know your
future?"
"I certainly don't need
you to tell me my past."
"Not very nice, are
you?" She smiled. Christine didn't like the smile. It was one of approval.
"Just do whatever it is
you do."
"Do you have a specific
question?"
Christine was shocked to hear
Spock give a sharp bark of laughter.
"If I tell you my question, then you'll know how to answer. Just
read my fortune, woman." He stood
up abruptly, causing the table to shake.
"Or am I wasting my time here?"
"Sit down." Her voice brooked no argument. "I can see your fortune clearly."
Spock sat down slowly.
Hrema reached for his
hand. "Ah so warm," she
breathed huskily.
"Yours is very
cold. Are you ill?" The query sounded like normal Romulan disdain
for the weak, but Christine knew Spock was giving her a clue. She searched her memory. Klatites were warm-blooded. When alive anyway.
She thought of the research
she'd done when they had begun this. She
knew the anatomy of every green-blooded humanoid in this sector. She just hoped she didn't mix them up.
"Just the way I
am," Hrema answered Spock as she closed her eyes. "Ahhhh."
"You see
something?"
She opened her eyes. "Oh yes.
A grand future. One worthy of a
warrior such as yourself. For I see you
are a fierce and feared man."
Spock only nodded.
"I see a very, very long
life for you. Filled with
adventure. You will take whatever you
want without asking. Nothing shall stand
in your way. No man shall oppose
you." Her eyes shone into Spock's.
"Will I do all this
alone?" His voice was husky.
"No, my Romulan. You will have at your side a woman who will
be your equal in all things." She
stood suddenly. "I am hungry. I will tell you more after I have fed."
"Tell me one thing
first. What will this woman look
like?"
"Why, like me, my
dear. I hope you approve?"
He moved close to her. "Most assuredly."
Christine heard the vampire
laugh as they moved away. She watched
long enough to see which way they turned when they left the booth, then she
hurried down the alley and was waiting for them when they passed.
She fell in behind them,
trailing them carefully. After four
blocks Hrema led Spock away from the market and into an alley.
"This is where you
eat?" Spock asked.
Christine walked around the
corner, saw Hrema's face transform into its demonic version as the hunger took
over. At least that never changed. As she moved into position, Christine said,
"I guess you never have to worry about making reservations."
The vampire spun. "We are busy. Go away."
"I'd love to,
really." Christine pulled out a
stake. "But I can't."
"Then die." Hrema was on her so fast that Christine could
barely track her. She didn't have time
to block the ferocious kick that knocked her against the far wall. Her stake went flying.
"Klatites are almost as
strong as Vulcans," Spock told her urgently.
Good to know, she thought as
Hrema picked her up by the throat. Hell of
time to find it out though.
She felt the vampire's hand
tighten around her. The Klatite's normal
strength was enhanced to unbearable by her supernatural nature.
Christine kicked out, trying
to push the creature off her. She
couldn't shake her.
So this is it, she thought,
as she felt something start to give in her throat. Her world was going black but she could just
see Spock coming up behind Hrema. The
last thing I'll see, she thought. *I
love you,* she tried to send him, even as her last bit of strength faded. She wished she had told him earlier, when she
had the chance.
"For the record,"
Spock said as he slammed Christine's stake into Hrema's lower back. "I prefer blondes."
Christine felt the vampire's
grip loosen then release her. She hit
the ground hard.
Hrema's look was one of pure
shock as she exploded into dust.
Spock helped Christine
up. "Are you injured?"
She tried to speak; only a
croak came out. "Fraid
so." She felt her throat, winced in
pain. She tried to swallow, felt
fire. "Nothing that can't be fixed
though."
His eyes told her that he was
extremely glad to hear that.
She smiled. "How'd you know where the heart
was?"
"I did not."
"You mean...?"
"Yes." He nearly sighed. "I went on instinct. You and Jim are very bad influences."
She laughed and immediately
started coughing.
"Do not
speak." He reached into his pocket
and drew out his communicator.
"Spock to Enterprise."
Uhura answered
immediately. "Enterprise
here."
"Two to beam up."
"Aye, sir."
"Sure you don't want to
have your fortune told first?" Christine whispered with a grin.
He shook his head. "I know what it will be."
She shot him a puzzled look.
"I save the day,"
he kissed her. "And get the
girl." One eyebrow slowly rose.
She tried but failed to hold
back her laughter. Another coughing fit
claimed her as the transporter took them home.
FIN