Author’s Notes:

For the BTVS people, who are following my series, The Dhampir, Part XV is a cross-over with the TV series Reaper, a supernatural dramedy:

Toward the end of S1, he finds out that he is the devil’s son. This story has spoilers through S2.

For Reaper fans, this fic takes place in Buffy S3. It’s an alternate universe, where Spike is Angel’s son, the son of a vampire, a dhampir. He’s the same age as the Buffy and the gang and attends Sunnydale High with them. This idea is not novel, as during the Buffy fanfiction hey day there were other authors that put Spike in High School with the Scoobies.

So because of the Angel/Spike father/son connection and the Devil/Sam father/son connection, you can see that I like this theme; thus, the crossover. I also like to touch on the theme how Spike/Sam/Buffy are so different from normal kids but are trying to fit it.

========================================================

August 23, 2009, Hell

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Sam Oliver couldn’t believe his ears. After two years of having to do the devil’s bidding, he thought that he had heard it all, but as usual Satan, or as he called him, dad, could always surprise him.

“Sammy.” The devil used that fake appeasing tone, that never failed to grate on Sam’s nerves. “Would I kid you? It’s a perfect situation because, as you know, I’m very busy, and I just can’t keep guard on you 24/7.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam huffed. He never understood why he even bothered to argue; it’s not like he ever won any arguments with his father. “But why 1998, and why Sunnydale, California? I mean, if I have to go back to my high school years, why can’t it be with Sock and Ben? I mean, high school years are hell. . . .” As the word hell popped out of Sam’s mouth, he had to pause and consider the irony. He was comparing High School to hell, while he was currently residing in the true hell. “Figuratively, speaking,” he quickly added.

“Of course.” Satan smiled widely, a smile that showed off a set of perfect, white teeth. “I picked the year 1998, so you can attend high school with the slayer. Now there have been many slayers throughout time, but in 1998 there was thee slayer, the one who surpassed all the ones who came before her and is today. . . .”

“What’s a slayer?” Sam interrupted.

“In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer,” the devil recited solemnly, hand over the area, where a heart would usually beat.

“Uh huh.” Sam had no idea what his father was talking about.

“Anyway, I figure, if you hang-out with her, she’ll protect you from any demon, who may be trying to assassinate you, and hopefully, you’ll learn some pointers on how to take them out. You know, useful stuff that will come in handy for the future, since I don’t see that this uprising is going to be settled anytime soon.”

“And this slayer, she has to attend High School?” Sam asked, as he tried to wrap his brain around the concept of a slayer.

“But of course, she’s not yet eighteen, so by law, she has to be in High School.” Satan gave Sam a don’t-you-know-the-obvious look.

“Boy,” Sam said softly to himself. “She has to save the world from demons, and still go to High School. That blows.” He realized that perhaps he wasn’t the only one, who had a sucky life.

“Well, buddy, it’s either that or you have to stay here in Hell.” The devil waved an arm, pointing to their surroundings.

“Well,” Sam considered. Yeah, it was rather boring in hell, but on the up side, he felt secure and safe. A feeling, he hadn’t had in the last year. “If you got me an Ipod, Playstation 3, and satellite TV, maybe I could. . . .”

“This isn’t a five star hotel.” Satan’s smile faded, a sure sign that he wasn’t happy with Sam. “This is hell, a place of suffering and torment.”

“Okay, okay.” Sam suppressed the urge to quip back that trying to beat the final boss in Resident Evil 5 partnered with the idiot A.I. of the game could be construed as hell.

“That’s my boy.” The devil was all smiles again. “And think of the bright side; you’ve already done high school once, so a second time should be a breeze.”

**

August 24, 1998, Sunnydale High School

“So, you’re back in Sunnydale,” Xander commented to Spike, as he, Spike, Buffy, and Willow headed for the front entrance of the high school. It was the beginning of the new school year, and they were entering proudly. After all, seniors ruled the school; that was the tradition. “Thought you were relocating to LA.”

“No.” Spike was not going to allow Xander to goad him today; he was too happy. “The Old Boy thought it important that I return and finish my last year here. He thought that having to change schools again would be unfair,” he said with a big grin. Ever since his father had returned from hell, the smile rarely left his face.

“Well, that’s, that’s good of him,” Willow declared with a wavering voice, even though a part of her was not exactly kosher with the idea that Angel was back. She still had nightmares of him holding her by the throat.

Buffy sensed her ambivalence. “Don’t worry, Will, he’s 100% Angel with a soul.”

“And Giles?” Willow asked. “Has he accepted this?”

“Rup isn’t all together pleased with the situation,” Spike answered. “But my dad offered a few peace tokens, like he’ll help with the mayor and his ascension, whatever the bloody hell that is, and he also offered up Clem’s assistance in this matter.”

“Clem?” Buffy was puzzled, as the group paused on the front steps. “How can your dad speak for Clem?”

“He figures Clem owes him for the office building he now owns in LA, and can’t get rid of. No one wants to buy it because the neighborhood around it is so piss-poor.”

“Excuse me,” Xander broke-in. “But I thought you were the one most instrumental in buying that place in LA.”

“I was.” Spike didn’t try to deny it. “Guess next time, Clem will think twice before going along with one of my hare-brained schemes.”

“Poor Clem,” Buffy said with pity. “He had only been trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, now he’s going to be helping us.” Spike’s attitude was unsympathetic. “And trust me, having him on our side can be a huge advantage. He hears a lot in those card dens; he’ll dig up the info we need on the mayor and this ascension.”

“Well, it is a relief having both of them on our side in this.” Willow was beginning to feel better about the return of Angel. “Especially since Faith has decided to go over to the dark side and join the mayor.”

“Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed in shock, as the foursome stepped through the school’s main door. Having just returned to Sunnydale the night before, he was behind on current events. “She did? Guess you were correct.” He looked at Buffy. “Faithy is a total fruitbat.”

“I hate to say it, but I told you so.” Buffy couldn’t help but retort with a sense of satisfaction. “But don’t forget guys, she’s a very dangerous fruitbat.”

“Our lives can’t get any funner,” Xander sighed. “And what’s with all these crazy, dangerous chicks? First dotty Drusilla, and now fruity Faith.”

‘And for some reason, they all seem to have a thing for you Xander,” Buffy teased. “What’s up with that?”

“Xander, the mental chick magnet,” Spike snickered, as he started off in the other direction toward his locker. “Later,” he called out his farewell to Buffy and Willow, as Xander followed after him. “And it fits, mate, you dated the barmiest bird of them all, Cordelia Chase.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xander grumbled back, as the two headed down the hallway.

“You must be happy.” Willow smiled at Buffy, as they stepped over to their lockers. “Your fighting partner has returned. Now no more solo patrols.”

“It’s great that Spike’s here again ,” Buffy agreed, as she spun the dial on her locker. “It’s always a big plus knowing that someone has your back, and especially now with. . . .”

“Faith on the loose,” Willow finished her sentence.

“No, I was going to say with having to deal with Wesley as my Watcher, although, Faith on the loose is another scary.”

“It appears like someone is lost.” Willow eyed a young man, not drop-dead gorgeous, but cute, standing in the middle of the hallway, confusion written all over his face.

“Looks a little old to be a Freshman.” Buffy paused and peered at the young man. “You lost?” she called out.

**

Having just been shifted from hell, Sam was trying to make heads-or-tails where his father had transported him to. “It figures that he just beams me into the school on its first day,” he groused to himself, as he tried to balance the papers in his hands along with the backpack that was filled with text books and school supplies. “Doesn’t give me any prep time at all.”

“You lost?” A petite blond asked, walking over to him with a pretty red-head alongside of her.

“Err, umm. . . .” Sam silently cursed his father. Now he was going to look like a fool in front of two attractive girls. “I’m. . .it’s my first day here, and I don’t have any,” he paused as he tried to make sense of the stack of papers that he held in one hand.

“Here, let me help.” The red-head seized the papers. “Oh, your locker is right here.” She pointed to the right. “And here’s the combination. I didn’t get a good look at it,” she reassured him, as she handed him one slip of paper back. “And by the way, I’m Willow, and this is Buffy.” She pointed to the blond.

“Oh, yeah.” Sam was still flustered, so he wasn’t at his most eloquent. “I’m Sam, Sam Oliver,” he said, as he stepped over to locker 1005 and checked the combination.

“O-kay.” Willow perused Sam’s schedule of classes, and noted the last name of Belvedere. “How come on your class schedule says Sam Belvedere?”

“Oh, oh.” Sam cursed his father again. “Oliver is my mother’s surname, and up until now I’ve been using it. But now, because I’m with my father, I guess,” he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

Well, anyway, first hour you have physics with Mr. Dawson.”

“I’m there too,” Buffy piped up. “So you can follow me there.”

“Physics?” His hand stopped in mid-spin. “He put me in a physics class! This is my senior year; senior year is for graphic arts, gym class, and any other class that doesn’t require of lot of thinking. Sorry,” he immediately apologized, as he noted the puzzled looks on both girls’ faces. “I just arrived here today. My father came ahead and enrolled me, so that’s why I’m first learning what my classes are.”

“Well, looks like your dad doesn’t want to make you life easy.” Willow was still perusing Sam’s class schedule. “Because he enrolled you not only in physics, but Calculus, advanced English, advanced Computer Science, World History, and oh, World Religions, that’s an interesting choice. Is your dad a religious man?”

Sam choked down a laugh, as he shoved most everything in his locker, and then grabbed his papers back. “Is he crazy!” He couldn’t help the outburst. “I don’t have the background for any of these classes. When. . .my last high school, I was barely a C average, and so I had classes such as math, science, and English for dummies.”

“So not a high achiever, are you?” Buffy commented. She could relate, since she had spent most of her High School years being a more-or-less average student, and it was only the fact that recently she had scored a 1430 on her SAT exam that had her mother dreaming of an ivy league education for her.

“Hardly, but because I always score high on tests, many of my teachers keep saying that I have this great potential, but when I did try co. . . .” Sam immediately caught himself. “I guess my father is buying in on that theory. Anyway, if I want to talk to someone about changing my classes, where do I go?”

“Back down this hallway and take a left.” Willow pointed him toward the offices. “Good luck,” she called out after him, as he started to sprint away. “And if you’re not able to switch anything, I’ll see you in advanced computer science.”

Hearing that, Sam spun around. “You’ll be in that class?” He was at least happy that there would be a friendly face.

“I’m teaching it.”

**

Lunch hour found Buffy, Spike and the rest of the Scoobies sitting together in the school cafeteria.

“You know. . . .” Xander waved his plastic spoon around. “We’re seniors now; we can leave the grounds, and not eat the slop they serve here in school.”

“Too much of a hassle to run somewhere, when we only have forty-eight minutes,” Willow commented, her nose already in one of her textbooks.

“Too bloody expensive,” Spike contributed, his nose also in a textbook. Having regained his Sire, his resolution was to be a model son, which included best behavior and straight A’s in school. Unfortunately, a short attention span, and lack of willpower would end his resolution before the second week of classes.

“You have to buy food here too?” Xander asked in puzzlement. “How is that cheaper?”

“My dad buys me a meal ticket for the school cafeteria, but doesn’t give me any notes. . . cash,” Spike corrected himself. “So I can spend as much as I want here without costing me.”

“And why does your dad buy you a school meal ticket, instead of just giving you the money?’

“Thinks the school serves healthier food than any food I would buy out,” Spike explained, as he closed his book with a satisfied thud.

“Guess he hasn’t ever eaten here then.” Buffy looked over at Spike’s lunch tray, which held a chili dog with French fries, a coke, a package of twinkies, and small bowl of Jell-O.

“The last time the man ate any actual food, it was 18^th century Ireland, and in those days they probably only had potatoes, cabbage, and the blood and intestines of a pig or sheep. He has no understanding of today’s cuisine.”

“Which allows you to basically eat whatever you want.” Buffy reached over and grabbed one of Spike’s fries. “Boy, if he only knew.”

“There’s a couple of pieces of fruit in the Jell-O.” Spike pointed out, which had Buffy rolling her eyes.

“What’s the point of us being seniors if we don’t take advantage of the laxer rules?” Xander got back to the original argument.

“Trust me,” Oz spoke up. “Leaving the school grounds for lunch is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Says the man, who’s in his second year as a senior.” Xander couldn’t help the dig. “And why is it that you didn’t graduate last spring?”

“Had a few incompletes, and then just never made it to summer school to make them up,” Oz explained in his usual relaxed tone.

“And why didn’t you make it to summer sc. . . ?” Xander started, when he was interrupted by Willow calling out.

“Hey, Sam,” she addressed a sandy-haired young man. “You must have gotten your schedule changed because you were a no-show in my class.”

“Well, actually,” Sam stammered, as he balanced the school cafeteria lunch tray. “I wasn’t able to change anything because my dad’s not here to sign permission. Away on business,” he quickly clarified as both Willow and Buffy threw him a questioning look.

“You just moved her today, and your dad’s already gone.” Buffy made a sympathetic face. “That sucks.”

“And your mom?” Willow asked, hoping she didn’t sound too nosey.

“Ah, err. . . .” Sam thought fast and decided that the closer he stuck to the truth, the easier it would be to remember what lie he had told. “She lives in Seattle. My step-dad recently died, and well, there were some problems, so I ended up coming here with my father.”

“Oh, sorry about your step-dad,” Willow said with sincerity. “And hey, if you want a heads-up in computer science, I can give you the syllabus, and explain anything you don’t understand.”

“Thanks.” Sam smiled. At least, he had met a couple of helpful people on his first day. He pushed his way to sit down next to Willow, causing the occupants to have to all scoot closer together.

Spike heaved a sigh of irritation, finally looking up from his chili dog to make a scathing remark to the newcomer, when his eyes lit on a tattoo on the Sam’s right wrist. Zeroing in on it, he knew he recognized the symbol.

“So, mate.” His tone was that of friendliness. “Trying to change your courses already?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered while taking a bite of a turkey sandwich. “My father has this mistaken idea that I’m some kind of genius, so he enrolled me in smart-people classes. I need to get out of them, otherwise, I can see it now, F’s with a D minus, and if I’m lucky, one C. That would be World Religions,” he said to Willow, who was on his left.

“Right then.” Spike was still putting on the friendly act, causing Buffy to give him a curious stare. “So what are they?”

“Omph.” Sam mumbled with a full mouth. “Here.” He pulled a tattered piece of paper from his shirt pocket and tossed it over to Spike.

Spike read it over with Xander nosily looking over his shoulder.

“Wow,” Xander commented. “Guess your dad is a bit of a hard-nose. Doesn’t he know that senior year is for goofing-off?”

Mouth still full, Sam could only point and nod his head in agreement at Xander’s assessment.

“Only if you’re a fuckwit.” Spike gave Xander a contemptuous glare. “For those of us who aspire to do something with our lives, senior year is to prep for college.”

“Yes.” Sam swallowed his mouthful of turkey sandwich. “But I have no aspirations to go to college.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, while Buffy took a deep breath, ready to interrupt him before he let loose a string of insults aimed at the new guy. But she was pleasantly shocked, as nothing offensive came out of Spike’s mouth, only:

“Right then, but if you would like to have a bit of assistance in any of these subjects, come to the library after school. I’ll be happy to help, and if I don’t know something, I can guarantee you that Red here. . . .” He shot a quick glance at Willow. “Will.”

“Oh, of course.” Willow shook her vigorously in agreement, while giving Spike an inquisitive look. It was so unlike him to be nice to anyone, especially the new kid in town.

“Great, great.” Sam smiled widely, as he polished off the rest of his sandwich. “I should get going, still not sure where anything is around here.”

“I’ll act as guide,” Oz offered, getting into the spirit of helping-the-new-guy. “Because I should then get ready for my statistics class. Mr. Feller was not happy with my not showing up for summer school, so I better not be late. See ya.” He stood up, kissed Willow on the check, and led Sam out of the cafeteria.

“Okay, so I’m a fuckwit, but new guy gets after-school tutoring?” Xander said in a low voice, as Oz and Sam walked away. “What’s up with that?”

“That tattoo on his wrist, it’s a sign of Satan,” Spike explained, as he tipped back in his chair, face set in concentration.

“He’s a devil worshipper?” Willow was stunned. “But he seems like such a regular guy.”

“I think that’s what most devil worshippers want you to think, that they’re just nice, normal people,” Buffy chipped-in.

“No.” Spike shook his head. “That symbol was not something that a wannabe, punk, high-schooler tattoo’s on himself to make him look tough, it meant something a lot more.”

“Like what?” Buffy asked.

“I have a couple of ideas, but I don’t want to alarm you, if I’m totally incorrect, so I’ll let Rup and Wesley take a look at it. But I’m thinking that this Sam chap has some serious juice behind him.”

**

The final school bell had rung, and Sam was trying to find his way to the library to meet Spike. He figured any kind of help was something, especially since he was pretty sure the devil wasn’t going to show-up again until perhaps mid-semester, which meant Sam was stuck with his current classes.

“And I know he did this on purpose because he just wants me to fail,” Sam muttered to himself, as he finally found the library, and pushed open the double doors. Striding into the room, his step immediately faltered, as he noted that the atmosphere wasn’t that of a casual, laid-back high school library, and that the nine occupants of the room had all turned at his entrance, and their stares were of the hostile variety.

A large, handsome man approached him and grabbed his hand before he could object.

“Hey,” Sam protested, as the man held his hand in a bone crushing grip.

“It’s Satan’s symbol,” the man told the others, who had crowded around them.

“He’s under Satan’s protection.“ A tall, dark-haired man with an English accent added, as he put a finger out to trace the tattoo. “He’s. . . .”

“He’s Lucifer’s son,” the large man interrupted, his dark eyes assessing Sam carefully.

“Oh, that’s the icing on the cake,” Xander wise-cracked. “My senior yearbook is going to be a conversation stopper because oh look, I went to school with a slayer, a werewolf, a son of a vampire, and a son of the devil, and I had a former angel as a substitute history teacher.”

“Xander, this is not funny.” Another man with a English accent rebuked the teenager. “The spawn of Satan is no laughing matter; in fact. . . .” He took off his glasses, while he continued to stare at Sam. “This young man, I wager, is quite dangerous.”

“Dangerous, like I should slay him dangerous?” Buffy asked with a tight knot in her stomach. She kind of liked Sam and wasn’t thrilled by the fact that she might have to kill him.

“No! No!” Sam finally found his voice, as he wrenched his arm loose, and backed away. “I’m not dangerous; I’m just a regular guy, who, yes has the unfortunate luck to have the devil as his father, but I’m not evil! I don’t do evil things, except I am a little lazy, and I know I’m an underachiever, but I’ve not stolen, assaulted, or murdered anyone. And this tattoo. . . .” He looked at his wrist and then began rubbing it. “It’s, it’s. . .real.” He was shocked. He actually had not noticed it until now. The day had been so crazy, and when he had glimpsed a bit of dark under his shirt sleeve, he had just assumed it was a spot of ink or dirt.

“You didn’t know you had that?” Buffy asked.

“I didn’t have it yesterday!” Sam rubbed harder. “But my dad, my dad has this weird sense of humor, and probably put it on me as a joke.”

“A joke?” The dark Englishman, who Sam would find out later was Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, gave him an astonished look. “You bear the mark of Satan, and to you that’s a joke?”

“Why did he send you here?” the big man asked with a intimidating tone causing Sam to back up another step. He recognized a dangerous man when he saw one.

“The Slayer,” Sam burst out, not bothering to think whether it was a smart move to tell the truth. “He sent me here for the Slayer.”

“The Slayer!” The other Englishman put his glasses back on and gave Sam a hard stare. “He sent you here to murder the Slayer?” His voice was soft, but even so it conveyed a more threatening tone that big man’s. “Buffy.” He addressed her, even though he didn’t turn his head. “I do believe you will have to kill him.”

“Kill! No, no, no!” Sam backpedaled a bit more. “I wasn’t sent here to murder the slayer; I was sent here to learn from her.”

‘Why?’ the Englishman asked.

“Because, because there’s a demon revolt against my father, and to get to him, they’ve targeted me to assassinate, so my dad sent me here to learn how to kill demons.”

“A demon revolt?” the big man asked with surprise. He had not heard one whisper of such an occurrence, which was odd, since a revolt against Satan himself would have the whole demon population yapping about it. “Clem.” He turned to a strange looking man, who obviously had a very bad skin condition. “Have you heard any word about this?”

Clem shook his head. “Not a peep, Angel. And if something like that was really going down, you wouldn’t be able to swing a dead cat without hitting someone, who was blabbing about it. Not that I would ever be swinging a dead cat around,” he quickly reassured everyone.

“Then it’s just a lie.” Angel turned back to Sam. “The problem with killing this boy is that he’s human.”

“Of course, I’m human,” Sam affirmed, just as Wesley spoke:

“He’s the spawn of Satan, which makes him a demon, despite his human appearance and anatomy. He should be slain.”

“Wait a moment,” Spike protested. “Are you saying that because my father is a demon, that I am slayable? Just because of our parentage, which we have no control over.”

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable slaying him,” Buffy said slowly, as she gave Sam a sympathetic look. “Until, of course, I catch him doing something really evil.”

“Right, right.” Sam nodded his head at her. “Until I do something evil, which will never happen because I don’t do evil, unless you consider flunking classes evil.”

“This revolt.” Angel asked. “Why haven’t we heard anything about it?”

“Because, because. . . .” Now Sam halted briefly, debating whether he should tell the truth or not. The problem was, the truth made him sound crazy, but any lies would most probably be smelled out by this Angel. “It hasn’t happened yet. My father sent me back in time to hide me from the assassins.”

That gave the whole room pause, as they were deciding whether Sam was just a very poor liar, or a nutcase.

“So what year are you from?” Buffy asked carefully.

“2009,” Sam answered, as he watched the room’s occupants warily.

“2009!” Xander gaffed. “Okay, future-boy, who’s the president in 2009?”

“Barack Obama, our country’s first Black president.”

“Wow, a Black president,” Oz exclaimed in his usual laconic tone. “That’s cool!” He was the only one of the group that stayed sitting at one of the library’s tables and had not gotten up to crowd around Sam.

“This is quite unacceptable.” Wesley spoke up again. “Obviously, this young man is a very bad liar. Buffy. . . .” He turned to give her an command. “I order you to. . . .”

The library doors swung open, interrupting Wesley’s edict.

“Hello, Sam.” A well-dressed man, hair coiffured to perfection, eyes blazing blue stepped into the room. "I thought I would stop by and see how your first day of school went.”

“You!” Sam whirled around and pointed a finger at his father. “You set this all up; you want them to kill me.”

“Kill you?” the devil looked taken-aback. “That was never my intention, quite the contrary.” His sharp eyes make a quick surveillance of the room, which had Clem bobbing up and down, trying to decide if he should kneel or not. “Angelus.” His gaze stopped on the vampire. “Fancy meeting you here because I’m sure when I last checked you were a guest in my home. You left without a farewell, and you know. . . .” His face suddenly lost its good humor and became seriously menacing. “How I hate it when guests depart without a by-your-leave.”

At his veiled threat, Spike made a threatening move forward, but Angel immediately stopped him.

“William! He can kill you with just a look; stay back.” Angel turned his head briefly to give both him and Buffy a stern stare. “You too, Buffy. I didn’t escape from hell.” His attention returned to Satan. “I-I believe I was thrown out.”

“Yes, and as I understand, it was with the help of my old friend, Chax.” The devil shook his head regretfully. “He’s just never been the same because of that angel, such a shame. Anyway, I might be persuaded to go along with your. . .departure, although it will mean a mountain of paperwork, and the post-dating.” He sighed theatrically.

“What’s the catch?” Angel was no fool; the devil only worked quid pro quo.

“You see, I can let your transgression slide because I do understand that it was in a good cause.” The devil’s gaze moved to Spike. “You needed to return to care for your precious childe, understandable indeed.”

Angel, being more than a quarter century old, and having had dealings with most every type of human and demon, immediately understood the devil’s intentions. “Sam.” He gave a nod toward the young man. “Was telling the truth about everything, wasn’t he? You want me to protect and train him.”

Satan smiled widely. “Well, you, and. . . .” He waved his hand, his motion encompassing Buffy, the Watchers, Clem, and the Scoobies. “Your team.”

“How is it possible though, that Sam is from the future?” Willow asked timidly. Normally, she wouldn’t haven’t made a squeak in the devil’s presence, but she couldn’t contain her curiosity.”

“In a nutshell,” the devil said agreeably. “Hell is another dimension that runs under you yours, but time runs differently from dimension to dimension. So it’s just a matter of poking a hole in a different spot.”

There was a moment of silence, as the young people in the room tried to make head-or-tails of his explanation. Time travel and travel between dimensions was not something one could just take a class in.

“Well, that was as clear as mud,” Sam muttered. There was much he didn’t understand about his father, and he still wasn’t comfortable with being popped in and out of everywhere and anywhere. “

“So?” the devil rubbed his hands together. “Do we have a deal?”

“With your mark on him, most demons won’t dare attack him,” Clem pointed out.

“A positive,” the devil said cheerfully. “You’ve got an ally, who most demons are afraid to hurt, a win-win situation.”

“Except that I suck at fighting demons,” Sam added.

“Now, now.” The devil clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re too modest. How many escaped demons have you captured and returned to hell, somewhere around seventy, and that was done in less than two years.”

“Wow.” Buffy was not only surprised but a bit amazed at Sam’s accomplishments.

Sam could only roll his eyes. He knew that his father’s bragging was only to manipulate these people into doing what he wanted. “Don’t be impressed. Forty of those was a gang, that me and my buddies enticed with a beer truck. I nailed most of them when they were passed out drunk.”

But instead of dissuading them, Sam only impressed them more.

“Think I’m going to like working with this bloke,” Spike whispered to Buffy.

“Well, are we in agreement?” the devil asked, and when no one raised any objections, he turned to Sam. “There, resolved the situation. Now take note because hopefully soon, you’ll be a lean, mean fighting demon machine.”

“O-kay.” Sam wasn’t totally convinced. “But since you’re here and settled one situation, you can settle another. Come with me to the guidance office. I need to change my classes because I’ll never pass the ones you enrolled me in.”

The devil heaved a huge sigh. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” He took his son by the arm. “A father’s work is never done.” The devil quipped over his shoulder, as he and Sam headed for the exit.

**

August 25, 1998, Sunnydale High School

The second day of classes found Buffy and the gang once again arguing with Xander over leaving the school for the lunch period.

“Maybe on Friday we can all run out to the Doublemeat Palace,” Willow suggested, in part to appease Xander. “We can grab some take-out and rush back here in time for fifth period.”

“Or we can eat the hamburgers and fries they serve here in the cafeteria and save ourselves a lot of trouble,” Spike rejoined, as he dropped his food tray on the table.

“You know. . . .” Xander pointed his hot dog at him. “You’re starting to become a real kill-joy. I get it; your father’s back and all, but geez, lighten-up a bit.”

“Why don’t you shut your gob!” Spike shot back, while Buffy hurriedly interrupted the spat before it escalated.

“If we go there on Friday, there’s nothing that says you have to come.” She gave Spike a glaring frown. “

“Ri-ght then.” Now Spike was miffed that he was excluded from the outing. “I’ll just stay here by myself and. . . .” He looked up right as Sam was sitting himself down next to Willow. “Or I can eat with Sam.”

“We’re seniors,” Xander immediately launched into an explanation, as he addressed Sam. “We have the freedom to leave and eat anywhere our hearts’ desire, so why are we staying here and eating the same slope we’ve eaten for three years now.”

“Actually this slope isn’t bad,” Sam said with a mouthful of chili. “Compared to my old High School’s food, it’s gourmet delight here. But leaving campus to eat isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. You’re just rushing around and end up swallowing your lunch whole to make it to your next class on time.”

“We’re not going to make a habit of it,” Willow spoke up. “Just a treat for Friday. We’ll go and have lunch at the Doublemeat Palace.”

Now mouth totally full, Sam could only shake his head, while he swallowed his food. “Count me out. My dad gave me a meal ticket for here in school, unlimited amount, but cash wise, I’m a little poor.”

“What’s with the meal tickets?” Xander looked between Sam and Spike. “Guess, demon fathers are not too trusting.”

“They’re showing that they care,” Spike snapped back immediately; his mood was contentious, partly from Buffy telling him he didn’t have to come with them on Friday and partly from trying to behave perfectly since school started. Two days in a row was taxing. “Which is more than a few human fathers, I know of, do.” He was referring to Buffy’s absent dad, Xander’s drunken, abusive dad, and Willow’s indifferent one.

“Spike!”

“Hey!”

Both Xander and Willow let out a exclamation of protest, while Buffy immediately quelled any chance of a huge fight erupting.

“He’s right; Angel is a model father, the best out of all of ours, although. . . .” She frowned at Oz. “Not sure about yours.”

Oz shrugged. “As far as fathers go, I would say that Angel is as good as they come,” he said in his usual uncommunicative style.

“There.” Spike pointed at Oz, while giving Xander a ha-ha-I-win-the-argument glare. “Point, set, and match.”

“Of course, I’m not sure about your dad.” Buffy looked over at Sam. “What’s his motive for buying you meal tickets for the cafeteria?”

Sam could only shake his head. “Who knows with him? I’m never sure what he wants, or how it wants it.”

“Did he give permission for you to change your classes?” Willow asked.

“Sort of,” Sam said gloomily. “Calculus changed to Algebra II and Advanced English changed to regular English, other than that everything else stayed the same. He’s got some idea in his head that I should be preparing for college, even though I told him that I tried college and just kept falling asleep there. It was pointless.”

“College!” Xander let out a whistle. “Just how old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-two, which by-the-way.” A worry that had been gnawing at him since he came to Sunnydale suddenly came to mind. “Do I look twenty-two, or do I look like a High Schooler? Because when I look in the mirror, I just see me, and if that’s the case, I must look like a great big, fat loser.”

The gang stared at him, considering.

“You look like any of us, mate,” Spike said with sympathy. Sam’s revelation had hit home with him. He wasn’t the only one with a demon father and a very unusual home life, trying to make it in the regular world. “Seventeen, eighteen.”

“Really?” Sam looked at the others for confirmation. When they all shook their heads in the affirmative, he blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank God! Because it would be just like him to send me to high school looking my true age. He loves to set me up to look like a gigantic failure.”

“Why does he do that?” Willow asked.

“Because he’s the devil; that’s what he likes to do. I mean, look at the classes he enrolled me in; he wants me to flunk them all, so I can show the world my stupidity.”

“Perhaps.” Spike threw Sam a speculative stare. “Or perhaps he’s trying to push you into some better choices? No offense, but you are a college drop-out. Did you hold a job previously?”

“Of course.” Sam was slightly offended. “I, I worked full-time at the Work Bench; I had been working there since I was sixt. . .,” he trailed off. “I lived with my parents until I was well over twenty-one. . .ohmigod! I am a loser!”

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s a preview of my life to come?” Xander whispered across Oz to Willow.

Spike said nothing more, just gave Sam a telling look.

“Well, you’re not totally a loser,” Buffy said consolingly. “I mean, I was pretty impressed when I heard that you took out seventy demons. That’s not a small feat. How did you do it by-the-way? Do you have super strength or special powers?”

“No, not really.” Sam had stopped eating and had leaned back in his chair. The revelation that he was a loser, and that the devil was only trying to better him had shocked him into losing his appetite. “I was given what was called a vessel to capture the souls; vessels are various objects that according to my dad are hand-made in the bowels of perdition by the iniquitous and the vile.”

“Like a weapon, then?” Oz asked, fascinated by the conversation. It wasn’t everyday that one got to hear about how Satan and hell worked.

“Yeah, kinda,” Sam hesitated. “But again, the type of vessel depended on what humor my father had that day. They ranged from a taser, spear gun to a hand-knit Christmas sweater and an eight-track tape.”

“Huh!”

“A Christmas sweater!”

Buffy and the gang glanced at each other, trying to decide if Sam was pulling their legs.

“I’m not kidding.” Sam could read the doubt on their faces. “And you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to figure out how to use that sweater to capture the soul.”

“What’s an eight-track tape?” Xander asked with bewilderment.

“It’s the tape that came before the cassette,” Oz threw him a quick explanation before returning his attention back to Sam. “So even though you’re the son of the devil, you have no super powers?”

“N-o,” Sam said slowly, as he considered. “Every once in a while, something weird will happen, like I can explode a bottle or move something, but I figure it’s just him playing tricks on me.”

“So really, you’re just a regular guy,” Willow said with a smile.

“Yep.” Sam’s appetite returned, and he dug into his chili again. “And those seventy souls, most of them were just dumb luck. A couple of my friends helped, and between the three of us, one of us would always get lucky.”

“Your friends helped?” Buffy asked as she looked around the table at Spike, Willow, Oz, and Xander. It seemed that she and Sam had something in common.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, mouth full. “I told them they didn’t have to, but they always wanted to. They’re good guys.”

“Well, mate.” Spike polished off his hostess cupcake. “It’s nice having you on our team. Come to the library after classes, I believe you’re scheduled to have a workout with Wesley. He’s the dark-haired wanker with the snooty accent.”

“Great,” Sam replied unenthusiastically. On top of having to repeat High School with classes he despised, he now had to add daily workouts. Life just totally sucked. Gathering his belongings, he grabbed his lunch tray and waved a hand at his new friends. Remembering that none of his situation was their fault, he quickly added a “thanks for your help,” as he turned to leave.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Buffy leaned closer to Spike and whispered, “we’re supposed to be training him, so why is he scheduled with Wesley? Wes is totally inept.”

“That’s the idea, love.” Spike said as he gave her a wink. “This is Satan’s son we’re talking about. We want to cooperate, so my dad won’t be sent back to hell, but we don’t want to cooperate too much. Training him with any competence could be against our best interests, so, who better to train him incompetently than Wesley.”

“Great plan!” Buffy liked the idea. “I guess Wes is going to be of some use after all.”

September 8, 1998

The day after the Labor Day weekend was a beautiful southern California morning, sun shining, temperature a perfect 78° . Both Buffy and Willow had the luck of having a free first period, so many days they met on the school grounds for a short girl-time of chatter and gossip.

“So, I heard that Labor Day weekend was a biggie.” Willow sat propped up, back against a tree. “Sam’s first patrol. How did it go?”

Buffy paused in the middle of a sit-up, as she rolled her eyes. “I would rate Sam under Xander and just a hair better than Wesley. And the only reason he’s a tiny bit better than Wes is that he’s younger and more agile, so he, at least, is able to run and dodge. Although most of the demons take one look at him and scamper off in the other direction.”

“Because of his father’s mark?”

Buffy shrugged. “Maybe, but how any of them see it in the dark with me and Spike kicking them in the face is a mystery. So maybe Sam emits devil pheromones or something.”

“So having Sam is an asset on patrol because many of the demons high-tail it and run.”

“We-ll,” Buffy considered. “Not exactly, since the object of patrolling is to kill demons, not chase them all around Sunnydale.”

Willow immediately felt bad. She liked Sam and hated to hear that he was basically a failure. “Giles had him doing some research yesterday, and he fell asleep on us.”

“The last full moon cycle, he took a shift watching Oz,” Buffy puffed out, as she got back to her sit-ups. “And fell asleep.”

“Another Xander,” they both said in unison.

“You know it’s really hard to believe that he’s the son of the devil, not only doesn’t he have any special abilities, but he’s a truly nice guy.” Willow grabbed an apple out of her backpack and took a bite. “I see him everyday in my Computer Science class, and so far, I haven’t seen a mean side of him yet.”

“Me too, Will.” Buffy finished her sit-ups and pulled out a bottle of water. “If I hadn’t witnessed the devil himself with Sam, I’d never believe it. It’s a weird world we live in though, Sam, Clem, Spike, all with demon blood, and all just good guys.”

“I’m a good guy?” Spike asked, as he and Sam walked up to the girls.

Willow frowned at them. “First period isn’t over yet, what are you two doing out of class?”

“There’s supposed to be a surprise fire drill,” Spike said scornfully. “But the whole bloody school knows about it, so teachers are letting students leave class early. Lazy buggers don’t want to be responsible for shuffling us all outside. Anyway, what is this about me being a good bloke? Because it’s been two weeks of behaving myself, and I’m ready to set myself on fire. Any discouragement of that would be appreciated.”

“Just chatting about how you and Sam here. . . .” Willow gave a nod at Sam. “Are good guys.”

“A good guy, who sucks at demon hunting, demon researching, and werewolf watching,” Sam said dispiritedly. “You must find me to be an anchor around your necks than a help.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself.” Willow immediately consoled him. “Give yourself time, you’re new to all of this,”

“Yeah, well.” Sam sighed, as Buffy and Spike’s eyes met.

Their thoughts said loser, but their mouths readied to say the opposite.

“She’s right, mate.” Spike plopped down beside Sam. “You’ll catch on, just give it time.”

“You know,” Buffy added. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but there couldn’t be any mistake about you being the son of the devil, is there? Because, because, you don’t seem very devil-like.”

“I wish.” Sam dropped to the ground. “But my mother, step-father, and the devil, plus some other demons have all told me that I’m his son. But you know it’s weird, according to my dad, he’s spawned a lot of children, and they all turned out to be duds. Well, how can he not consider me a dud? I mean, to be truthful, I must be one of the biggest duds out of all his children.”

“Well, maybe not.” Willow tried the positive approach. “Maybe compared to all the others, you’re a prize.”

“Boy, my dad must have faulty genes, if I’m the best of them.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, as the fire bell rang, and Sunnydale students began pouring out of the school.

“Bronze tonight?” Spike asked the group, and the girls immediately shook their heads in the affirmative. “And after we can patrol. Sam?” He tapped Sam on the shoulder with a fist.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said unenthusiastically, as he got to his feet. “But next time my dad comes around, I’m requesting that he buy me about a dozen or so running shoes because at this rate, I’m going to wear out a pair a week.”

**

The Bronze

“Hey, Sam,” the gang cheerfully greeted their new member, as he made his way over to them.

They had decided beforehand to be only positive and encouraging. After all, the fate of Angel was in the balance. If the devil decided they had not made a great enough effort to train his son, he might decide to rescind his escape-from-hell card.

“So how did your work-out go with Wes-ouch?” Xander asked, which earned him a kick from Buffy. They all knew that Sam’s work-outs with Wes were a grade A farce.

“The blind leading the blind,” Sam answered. It hadn’t taken him long to catch on to Wesley’s ineptness. “If he’s an example of your Council’s finest trainer, then no wonder the devil is winning in the war of good vs. evil.”

“Ahem,” Spike cleared his throat. “Perhaps. . . .” He gave Buffy a look. “You and I should give Sam a session or two of training.”

“We could,” Buffy agreed. “How about starting tonight?” She turned to Sam. “Before patrolling, you’ll get a in-depth lesson, and then you can try your new skills on an actual patrol.”

“Hands-on experience,” Xander commented. “The best kind of lesson.”

“About that,” Sam hedged. “Before I go on another patrol with you guys, I should get a Vessel from my dad. I mean, since I don’t have super strength, or marital arts training like you. . . .” He glanced first at Buffy and then Spike. “I should have some kind of weapon.”

“O-k,” Buffy said thoughtfully. “Do you know when his next visit is scheduled?”

“No,” Sam answered simply, as he looked longingly over at the other table, where some college students were enjoying a pitcher of beer. “Man, could I go for a beer. Another one of my father’s cruel jokes, brings me back underaged, so I can’t enjoy the pleasures of an alcoholic drink now and then. I mean, why couldn’t he brought me back three years from now to meet you guys? We could then, at least, have a few beers while we’re researching the latest demon.”

“Probably because he wanted you to bond with us, and there’s nothing like attending High School together to create a bond,” Oz answered in a level-headed manner.

“Right,” Spike agreed. “And also, most of us at this table. . . .” He glared contemptuously at Xander for a moment. “Are going off to college. What are the odds, if you would have been transported here three years from now, that you’d be roaming around a college campus trying to make new mates?”

“True, true.” Sam put up hands in a surrender motion. “I guess when it’s all said and done, my father does know what he’s doing, when it comes to manipulating people and situations. I shouldn’t question that.”

The gang nodded in agreement, while Xander opened his mouth to take a jab at Spike for the scornful glare he had just received from him.

“So, I heard that you got thrown out of your English class today. Something about calling Ms. Shiver a stupid bint. How’s that going?”

Spike heaved a huge sigh. “Idiot cow can’t speak proper English, and yet, she’s teaching an advanced High School English class.”

“So much for your perfect behavior,” Willow said sympathetically. “I suppose your dad isn’t going to be happy about this.”

“I believe he’s probably getting a ring right about now from Shiver, so this could be my last visit to the Bronze for a time because I smell a grounding coming on.”

“Grounding?” Sam was surprised. “You call your teacher a stupid cow and get thrown out of class, and all your dad does is ground you? I thought he was supposed to be this horrifically evil demon.”

The gang looked at Sam with alarm.

“Why? What does your dad do for punishment?” Buffy asked hesitantly.

“Throw things,” Sam answered. “And I don’t mean pulling back his arm and throwing something at me. Stuff comes flying from all directions. He can do that, you know, move things with his mind. And then there was this one time, where he threw me out onto the road with a semi barreling down on me, and the time when he sewed my lips shut.”

Now the gang really looked alarmed, as exclamations rang out simultaneously.

“That’s awful!”

“Horrible!”

“Terrible!”

Sam squirmed a little, now feeling uncomfortable. “He never, ever, hurt me in any way. It was just a scare tactic.” He found himself defending his dad, which would have him wondering why later on.

“Did it work?” Oz asked. “Scare you from doing something you weren’t supposed to do, or scare you into doing something you were supposed to do?”

Sam contemplated for a moment. “No,” he finally had to admit. “I still did whatever I thought was right. Like the time I thought that the soul really didn’t deserve to be sent back to hell, so me and my buddies dug up the guy’s bones and sent them back instead.” Thinking back on it, he couldn’t help but snicker. “Boy, my dad was not a happy camper, when he found out about that.”

“Interesting,” Xander mused. “Nowadays, even the devil can’t even keep his son in line. What does that say about our generation?”

“That we’re independent thinkers, trying to unshackle ourselves from our parent’s rigid views,” Willow stated militantly.

“Wow.” Buffy turned to her friend. “Quite the philosopher, and here I was thinking that it really wasn’t us that’s the problem, it’s our parents, who need a reality check. They don’t quite seem to get what it’s like for us in today’s world.”

“Amen”

Everyone raised their glassed in a toast.

“Well, if we’re going to do some training and patrolling, we should do it now.” Spike emptied his glass. “Because I don’t doubt that my Sire will be hunting me down shortly and dragging me home.”

“From training Sam and patrolling?” Xander asked. “But aren’t they kind of like your jobs? I mean, I could see him dragging you away from here because being grounded means you can’t have fun anymore.”

“Training and patrolling are fun to me,” Spike said, as everyone finished their drinks and stood up. “And my father knows that. There‘s nothing like kicking some demon arse to start the blood pumping.”

“Really?” Spike’s perspective, so contrary to his own, had Sam bowled over. He had never considered demon hunting to be exhilarating. “Doesn’t it cut into your social life?” Sam asked, remembering all the times that his job had interfered with his relationship with Andi, his on-and-off girlfriend.

“Patrolling the streets of Sunnydale with my best mate. . . .” Spike slung an arm around Buffy. “That is my social life.”

“Wow.” Sam was pensive, as they all headed for the exit. He thought back to the days when he, Sock, and Ben went on their demon hunting sprees, and in retrospect, he realized that he did miss them. “I guess,” he said tentatively.

It was a happy group that left the Bronze, but as usual in Sunnydale, events happened that could squash a happy mood in seconds. They had only walked a few yards, when a large, disfigured man stepped out in front of them. Immediately stopping, they knew that something was off about him.

Squinting at the man, Sam recognized something vaguely familiar, and in a flash of a second, he knew what it was. “Get down!” he shouted, as Buffy and Spike reacted instantaneously. Buffy grabbed Willow, and Spike grabbed Xander as they all scattered and dived to the ground, just as the man seemingly went up in flames. His entire body on fire, he raised a hand and in an instant a glowing sphere appeared, and carefully with deliberation he aimed the fire ball at them. The air exploded around them, and suddenly the temperature rose more than ten degrees.

“Bloody hell!”

Still holding onto Xander, Spike raised himself up, while throwing the slower boy off to the side. “Keep down,” he ordered to both Xander and Oz.

Oz, although not in wolf form, possessed enhanced senses and reflexes, so he had managed to jump to safety without any help.

Pushing Willow out of the way, Buffy also stood, as flames hissed and spit around them. Eyeing the enemy, she quickly did an assessment, but how could she fight him without bursting into flames herself?

“He’s a fire demon.” Sam was still standing in the middle of the alley, unfazed by the fireball that had exploded around them. “I fought one of them before.”

“Right,” Spike said, as he and Buffy exchanged a look of what-the-fuck. They had no idea how to attack the demon without suffering third-degree burns. The demon stopped, the flames dissipating slightly around his face. He grinned evilly at Sam, crooking his finger at him and then puling back his arm to launch another fireball.

“Sam!” Buffy screamed, as she and Spike both dived for him at the same time in an effort to knock him out of harm’s way. But it wasn’t needed, as time slowed and both Buffy and Spike watched the fireball arch toward them. But this time there was no second explosion as it landed neatly in Sam’s hand.

Holding it for a moment, he stared at his right hand, which was now just a ball of flame. Instinct had taken over, and he was doing just what came natural. “Get ready!” he yelled a warning to Spike and Buffy, as in one effortless move, he threw the fireball back at the demon. It exploded on impact, not doing any harm to the demon but knocking the fire out of him.

“Get him quick,” Sam commanded. “Before he reflames.”

Buffy and Spike were in mid-run toward Sam, but both smoothly changed direction and headed for the demon. Tackling him to the ground, he was an easy kill because without fire, he had no other weapons.

The flames around them died down, and the temperature of their surroundings slowly dropped toward normal. Breathing hard, the group was silent, as they gathered around the demon’s corpse and watched it bubble up and disappear. The only evidence remaining of the fire demon was a black outline.

“Crap!” Buffy puffed out, as she watched the demon vanish. “Never ran into one of those before. Now I have to add fire extinguisher to my weapons’ list.” Turning to Sam, she realized that they had all greatly underestimated him. “Thanks for the help.”

“Really,” Oz added, as the whole group was now staring at Sam with new respect. “And I thought you said you had no super powers.”

****

Continue to XVI

Return To Fic Index