Chapters Prologue-2

Disclaimer: Anita Blake belongs to Hamilton, Angel belongs to Joss, so does Buffy if any should show up.
Title: Safe in St. Louis
Author: Kate R.
Rating: Teen to Adult
Pairings: Normal for the books and Wes/Asher, Dawn/Damian
Summary: Wesley finds a new life after Season 3 of Buffy ends differently.

"Will we stay here for awhile?" a small voice asked from the back seat as Wesley pulled in to the driveway of their new home in St. Louis.

"I hope so, Dawn," Wesley answered. "I do hope so. I think we could both use a real home."

"Do you think I could maybe go back to school?" the girl asked. He'd been home schooling her since they'd left Sunnydale and its pain far behind three years ago. She should be starting her junior year of high school but they'd moved so much because of the Watcher's Council that he hadn't dared register her in a regular school.

"Perhaps," he told her. "Perhaps if I go to the Master of the City here and ask for sanctuary we may find safety here. But that may mean we join his Court. Do you understand that, Dawn?"

"Yes," she told him. "And I just want to be safe. I don't want to run any more, Wesley. I want a house with a driveway and a real school and friends and a date to the Prom if I can find one. I want to play ice hockey and lacrosse and all the things a normal teenager does. I want . . . I want . . ."

"A home," Wesley finished for her. "You want a home. And . . . so do I. I'm as tired of running as you are. Very well. I will see if there is any way that I can contact the Master of the City here. If there is, and he is willing to see me, I will beg for sanctuary for us."

"Thanks, Wes," Dawn whispered as they got their few possessions out of the trunk and walked up to the door of the house he'd found dirt cheap. He hadn't asked why because that would have raised questions about him and he did not want that. Dawn watched him as he took out the groceries he'd bought in a small store near here. It wasn't much as far as food went but it was food and he had to make dinner tonight and have something for breakfast in the morning.

"It's nothing, Dawn," he told her. "We have to take care of each other now."

"Yeah," she spoke in a somewhat thicker voice. "Do you . . . do you think anyone else may have lived?"

"Maybe," Wesley sighed. "We never found Giles' body and I know Ethan Rayne was around. He may have been able to save Rupert but I just didn't have time to check. Not with the Council standing there waiting to take you to their Slayer Breeding Program. We had to run. And if I have to beg for our safety, Dawn, I will. No matter what I have to give, do or become, Dawnie, I will do it. To keep you safe."

She hugged him then, and they entered the house. Tomorrow, Wes would seek contacts in the Supernatural community. He would begin to do whatever he had to do to keep Dawn safe. But tonight . . . tonight he needed rest.

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It only took a few days for someone in the Master's Court to come to see them. Apparently he and Dawn leaked a lot of magic and that magic had been sensed. Perhaps that was how the Watcher's Council kept finding them.

"Jean-Claude wants to see you," they'd been told as the emissary, a blond young man named Jason, led them to a posh looking car. There was a vampire in the back seat and his looks were stunning, at least what Wesley could see of them, golden hair, pale blue eyes, and a flawless left profile. Yet the fact that his beautiful golden hair covered the right side of his face led Wesley to believe that the right side wasn't so flawless. It was of no importance to him. Physical looks had stopped mattering to him long ago and right now, his only concern was the girl tucked against his side trembling in both fear and hopeful anticipation.

"You are in no danger from us," the golden haired man spoke. "Jean-Claude sensed your arrival and he had a feeling that you were seeking something here."

"Sanctuary," Dawn spoke softly. "The Council of Watchers wants me for their breeding program and I . . . I already lost my sister and Wes ran with me after the Ascension went bad. We stopped the demon but the price was . . . was . . ."

"Hush Petite," the golden haired man spoke. "It will all be well. You are in no danger here, from any of us."

"Really?" Dawn asked, and she sounded so timid that Wes really did curse the Council for this three year chase. Dawn was a tired as he was but now she had his nightmares of the Council trying to control her life as well.

"Truly," he told her. "Jean-Claude does not throw people to snakes."

"Okay," Dawn spoke. "What's your name?"

"Asher," he answered softly. "My name is Asher. I am the Master's Second."

"Cool," she told him. "Then you're safe and you wouldn't lie to us."

"Non," he told her. "Non I would not. Jean-Claude sent us to get you and bring you to us to be certain you are safe and to shield you. He will not see you chased any further. And before you ask, when someone with magic enters his territory he can read them. He felt fear from you when you drove past the circus. Fear enough to wake him from his sleep. He had to find you before he could send us but once he did he sent someone to bring you to him. Ah, here we are, the Circus."

It was a real circus, she and Wes saw, and Dawn couldn't help smiling at the clowns with fangs. It just amused her. She knew these were real vamps and probably way stronger than the ones in Sunnydale but they looked so much cuter.

"Care Bears with fangs," Dawn snickered. "Sorry, you guys look so much cooler and more sophie than the vampires in Sunnydale. I mean, they could never hold jobs or anything like this."

"No, I doubt they could. But 'Sophie'?"

"Sophisticated," Wesley translated. "No vampire on the Hellmouth was this sophisticated. All they wanted was to make more of their kind and to destroy. Dawn likes your kind better because you aren't trying to kill her.

"Ah," Asher spoke. "Well, here we are."

They'd been walking while they talked, down a huge flight of steps, and had come to a huge set of double doors, once it opened and they walked through it, Wesley knew nothing would ever be the same for them. Looking down at the girl at his side, though, he knew that was the best thing though. And what they needed.
The doors opened then, and Wesley looked down at Dawn who nodded. Together, they stepped through the doors and into what they both knew would be a whole new world.

"Welcome," a French accented voice said, "To my home."

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"Is 'Wow' too childish of a word to use here?" Dawn asked looking around. Elegance surrounded them and Wes knew for a fact it wasn't 'cheap elegance'.

A female laugh filled the room then and they saw a smallish woman with dark hair and eyes standing there.

"No," she told them, "Wow is not too childish a word. Sometimes when he redecorates in here 'I' think 'wow' and I'm his mate."

"One of them," a well built man with chestnut brown hair spoke. "Richard Zeeman, this is Anita Blake and the guy in he almost throne like chair is Jean-Claude, the Master of the City."

"Oh," Dawn became shy again, "Hello. Should we bow?"

"Mon Dieu, no," the man in the almost throne said, rising to his feet. "Mon Bon Dieu, no. You are my guests and people who have been chased and harried far too long for such rude, trivial and archaic practices to be forced on you. Please, take your ease here. No one will bother you."

"Okay," Dawn said softly. She sat down on one of the white couches and gingerly leaned back. She did not want to get dirt on them.

"Those couches have been stained with far worse," a male voice spoke from behind her. Dawn jumped slightly and turned. There was a gorgeous red haired man with the greenest eyes and the peaches-n-creamiest skin she'd ever seen standing over her shoulder. Dawn knew instinctively vampire but he wasn't freaking her out. As a matter of fact, looking at him filled her with calm and peace.

"Wow," she breathed again looking into his eyes. Oddly enough, she wasn't be-spelled by them. Maybe it was the potential slayer blood in her but when she looked at him, she saw a beautiful looking man who had some power even if it wasn't the crawl across your skin type as everyone else in the room, and she included Wesley in that.

"Dawn?" Wesley called with a hint of amusement.

"In a minute, Wes," she answered, "I'm busy staring at the most beautiful guy I've ever seen right now. Dead or Alive."

"Are you be-spelled?" the dark haired woman asked, shooting a look at the vampire.

"Nope," Dawn answered, "And don't glare at him. It's not his fault I like how he looks all fire and emerald and smooth. And his gaze so has nothing to do with it. Slayer blood here and Key-ness. Nothing be-spells me unless I want it to."

"The Key?" Jean-Claude spoke, "You are the Key?"

"And the sister of the Last Slayer, Buffy Summers," Dawn spoke up, looking at the red haired man still. He was so of the salty goodness as Cordy would say. But did vampires taste salty? Buffy always said she was too young for that talk about Angel. Angel . . . Buffy . . . One dead, one not sure about but they were gone, both of them and it hurt . . .

Tears started to pool in her eyes and the red headed man just pulled her into his arms since he was the closest. Dawn clung to him, bare chested as he was, and cried. Still he held her, murmuring soft words in German, stroking her hair and rocking her.

"Damian," she heard the woman say.

"Back off," the vampire holding her growled. "I can do this. I don't need your permission to offer someone comfort or find someone pretty."

"I . . ." the woman trailed off.

"Ma Petite," Jean-Claude spoke, "Let them be. Were you not just saying you wanted Damian and Nathaniel to make choices of their own? It is obvious that Damian has her safe and that Mr. Pryce needs to have rest as well with her safe in someone's care. Why not Damian's? He seems quite comfortable with her and quite able to manage."

"But Damian is . . ."

"A good man, Cherie," Jean-Claude spoke. "You say you trust him in all things, trust him in this. He will not let her come to harm and it is obvious she needs this. Let him offer her comfort, let someone not dealing with their own grief over the loss of whatever these two endured hold her so that the other may also rest and perhaps not be so strong. That is why we brought them here. As well as to offer help and safety to them. You, yourself, said that they both had gaping soul wounds that would need the touch of another to heal."

She nodded and watched as the man known as Wesley seemed to be swallowing his own pain at the memories the two names, and she was almost positive that 'Buffy' and 'Angel' were names of people from wherever they'd originally come from, had evoked. A minute later, everyone got a shock as Asher laid his hand on Wesley's shoulder and squeezed gently. His hair was back now and Anita knew he was going to offer to let Wesley stare at his scars if it got his mind out of whatever dark things he was seeing in his mind's eye right now.
Instead of staring, however, Wesley reached up and returned the squeeze to the hand resting on his shoulder. Apparently he didn't even notice the scars.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely after a few minutes. "I don't know what came over me. Sometimes it just . . ."

"Comes back to haunt you," Asher finished for him. "I know what that can be like, Mon Ami. Perhaps your wounds are not physical as mine were but the memories of how they were received still swallows me and it was nearly two centuries ago that this was done."

"It hurts until it stops hurting," Wesley told him, thickly. "Thank you."

"What did happen?" Anita asked. And by the look on her face as soon as she said it, she wanted to recall it.

"If your red haired friend could take Dawn out of the room," Wesley spoke visibly collecting himself and preparing himself to speak of something painful, "I will tell you."

"Of course," Jean-Claude spoke. "Perhaps Miss Dawn would like to get something to eat? The Circus has several food venues, after all."

Damian nodded and guided Dawn to her feet, leading her out of the room. He would talk to her about this as it was obvious the man with her was trying to spare her pain.

Dawn went with him, knowing why Wes was doing this but sad that he would still try to carry it all himself. He didn't need to; it wasn't like she was twelve any more. She could handle the bad stuff. But Damian was leading her away and she was hungry so she left. But not before squeezing Wes' arm on the way out. He patted her hand and pushed her towards her vampire. And on some level she knew that was right. Damian might have belonged to Miss Blake, but he was hers in another way. And Dawn held tight to what was hers now. She'd lost Buffy and Mom and all the others but she was not going to lose Damian to anyone. No matter who or what they thought they were.