Hellmouths are for Lovers

Chapter One

A burst of crystallized air floated away as she breathed on her hands. To a California kid, anything lower than eighty degrees was a frost warning. Slayer endurance notwithstanding, Cleveland was still freezing in December. Buffy worried she was getting weak in her old age. In Slayer years, she practically qualified for Social Security. Slayers weren't meant to live past their twenties- her powers were not designed for longevity, maybe they diminished with age.

She shook the thought away, or she could have just been shivering. Just two weeks until her 27th birthday, but she wasn't willing to admit defeat and start insisting she felt old. Sure, she didn't exactly understand the appeal of Skinny jeans, and no, she didn't tweet... but, she was not getting old! It's just fucking cold—that was all.

Checking her watch again, it was only about ten minutes since she last looked. One thing she could not deny was that her patience for cemetery patrol was waning with age. Even if she was camping out for vamps that were on the hunt for some Apocalypse inducing amulet, it had lost its edge. In the last few years Buffy had traveled the world, battled some epically evil forces, ascended to demi-god... had a lesbian experience... in the end, patrol seemed small potatoes.

"God damn, Castiel!" a deep voice split the cold, silent night.

Seemingly out of nowhere, two flash light beams were bouncing in the distance. Buffy slipped around to the side of the mausoleum. Waiting patiently in the concealment of the long shadow cast by the moon, she watched as the vamps approached, armed with a crowbar and a hammer. Slipping her hand inside her purple wool trench, Buffy readied Mr. Pointy.

"Do I really need to point out the irony of that statement?" the taller, second vamp asked.

"That teleport crap makes me motion sick."

"Lilith's down to nine seals, Dean. We didn't exactly have time to drive to Cleveland."

As the vamps placed the crowbar into the seam of the door, she readied herself to strike the minute they emerged inside.

"Why Cleveland?" the shorter, more ruggedly handsome- not that it mattered, because she was so overly done with dating vampires- the one called Dean asked in an exasperated kind of way.

"Actually, Cleveland is historically famous as a gateway to hell. Demonic activity has culminated here for millennia- in fact, the Erie Indian told stories of-"

Even Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Dude!" the Dean one interrupted the tall, long haired one, frustrated from trying to unsuccessfully wedge open the entrance, "Can we please save the Intro to Demonology lecture for later. I need a little leverage, Sam."

Clearly, these guys were not vamps—a vampire would not have this much trouble with busting open a door. They were too incredibly human... and, possibly brothers from the level of bickering. The Sam one rivaled Giles in useless occult factoids. If they were some uber-evil's human minions, this was going to complicate the situation. She had to re-think her plan, and slid Mr. Pointy back inside her interior jacket pocket.

"I'm just saying, it's not a surprise they would bury a Slayer here," Sam continued, voice strained from effort, "Supernatural activity always swarmed around hell gates- remember Wyoming? They used to call Sunnydale "The Hellmouth" before they succeeded in collapsing the portal to hell, and since then its been like a ghost town... except, without ghosts."

The mention of her own handiwork gave her pause, and she eased back down. These guys were unnervingly well informed minions.

"Cas said the next seal to be broken would be the third death of the Slayer. Lilith cut down a slayer here a century and some change ago, so it doesn't seem surprising she would return to the scene of the crime for the sequel."

Third death of the slayer. That knocked the breath right out of her lungs. At least until she heard the sound of splintering wood. Time to focus up.

oOoOoOoOo  

The Winchester brothers entered the tomb of Amelia Walker, a slayer that had lived during the time of the Civil War. In the middle of the chamber was a sarcophagus that held her remains, inside which they would find an amulet that had been blessed with protection, which basically worked by amplifying the Slayer's power until she was nearly invulnerable. For quite some time it had proven successful, making Amelia the previous record holder for Slayer longevity. Dean remembered this because Sam had felt it necessary to tell him this during the prior day's research. He also knew that the current Slayer was now the oldest Slayer to ever live- thank you Sam, man of useless facts. Unfortunately for Amelia, Lilith was more powerful than anyone could have ever conceived at the time, and when she was killed, the amulet had been buried with her.

"Are you going to help me with this?" Dean asked when he realized he was the only one pushing on the lid.

A shot to his poor, unsuspecting kidney had sent Sam to his knees. Dean spun around at the sound of Sam's pain, unsheathing Ruby's knife. Sam had been leveled by a blonde demon- a kinda hot, in a petite way demon... not that it mattered, because he was still going to gank her ass. Damn, she was fast though. Faster than any demon he had encountered, and one kick sent the knife flying out of his hand. As Dean's eyes broke from the Demon to follow the knife, hoping to catch where it landed, she struck him hard in the diaphragm, sending him to the floor as well. Metal scraped against concrete as it slid away to be lost in darkness. Rising to his feet, Sam splashed her with a bottle of holy water, and a handful of salt for good measure. It did little but burn her eyes, and elicit some sarcasm.

"Salt?" she gasped, furiously rubbing at her burning eyes, "Do I look like a slug?"

Discombobulated, Sam took her to the ground, pinning her next to the sarcophagus. Struggling to throw Sam, she bucked and writhed until she succeeded. Rising from her prone position, Dean's large hand clasped her throat, throttling her against the wall.

"Read it!" Dean shouted.

But, Sam had barely begun the exorcism incantation when her knee impacted Dean's groin, forcing him to release her neck. When he collapsed, she finished with a solid elbow to the back of his head for good measure. All Dean saw was swirling colors and dots. Throwing all her weight she body-checked the slab, and it shifted off the setting enough to knock Sam backwards. The blonde demon fished out the amulet, and disappeared into the darkness outside.

"You okay?" Sam asked cautiously, bending down to the slumped pile that remained of his brother.

Dean's response was an angry looking interpretation of Blue Steel.

"Why do bitches always go for your junk, man?"

Extending his hand, Sam assisted Dean to his feet.

"Without that amulet to amplify the power of the Slayer, she's as good as dead," Sam sighed, "She's got absolutely no chance against Lilith."

Leaning on the sarcophagus for support, buckled at the waist, Dean replied, "What good was it gonna do her anyway? It didn't do this one any good," he indicated to the slayer corpse with his thumb.

"There was only one slayer tapped back then. When they released all the potentials a couple years ago the power of the slayer magnified to unprecedented levels. She could use that amulet to channel the power of every slayer in the world."

"And, if Lilith gets her hands on it, she could use that power to reveal her true form... and if that happens, no one's going to have a chance."