As the moon rose over the horizon, the tide rose with it, rolling over small, smooth black stones that had been worn smooth by the constantly changing sea.

       On the beach, a lone figure sat on a black rock, his face uplifted towards the crescent mood, the light casting a pale glow over his pale features.  His eyes were closed as he took in the Scottish night smells and sounds.

       A wave crashed against the rock next to him, throwing a fine spray up into his face, and he inhaled the sultry salt smell deeply before opening his eyes, the deep pools of midnight blue seemingly devoid of emotion contemplated the silvery ocean before him in complete silence.

       A thin line of smoke rose from his cigarrette, and a single, small sigh escaped him as he flicked the butt into the water, lifting his eyes upward, and staring up at the stars.

       Are you dancing with them right now, pet?  He thought idly, leaning back against the damp rock, the porous edges jabbing into his back, and he was only dimly aware of the pain.  He felt numb and he looked it as well.  

       Two years before, the man's only love had betrayed him and his trust, by sleeping with his father, and then with various other loathe creatures.  And then had left him, with nothing more then a broken heart and a car that despite the care he had put into it, had died when he had been in Baltimore.

       He was chasing after a woman that wanted nothing to do with him, and everytime he thought of that, he only shoved it aside roughly, convincing himself that one more chance was all he needed to make things right.  However, the one more chances seemed to be piling up, and it always ended up the same way.

       His heart-broken, and alone, once more, left to rot by the only person that cared for him.  Only she didn't, not anymore, but he was able to shove those facts aside easily for that ONE more chance.

       Finally, after his sixth one more chance, he had given up.  The last straw had been in Dublin, after he had caught her screwing a Ladrapra demon, right ugly buggers, outside of his favorite pub.  Obviously, stealth wasn't exactly Dru's forte...or maybe she only wanted him to find her like that, knowing he'd be there drinking after his hunting was done for the night.

       He shook his white-blond hair in annoyance, closing his eyes to revert back to his mediative state, trying to relax his body.  He had been on edge since then.  He had just thrown a man through a shop-glass window for looking at him funny when he had been swearing beneath his breath.

       Probably not the best of ideas in a small, Scottish town.  They may be wearing skirts, but that didn't make them sissies.

       Scotland seemed like the best idea after he had fled from Dublin.  There was no history here.  No Irish people to remind him of his soddin' Sire, and Dru had never wanted to come here either.  Her excuse was that Ms. Edith said there were too many faeries and such that.

       He hadn't seen any fae as of yet, but he was pretty sure that one bar had been full of fairys.  Not that there was anything wrong with that.

       He growled beneath his breath, then concentrated on the sound of the water lapping gently at black, smooth rocks, the sound of the waves beating against the high rocks lining the shore, and the sound of...singing?

       Spike opened one eye, then the other, looking down the shoreline curiously.

       He could see the sillouhette of a woman walking down the beach towards him, about a half-mile off in the distance, and he was fairly sure she couldn't see him from there, since he blended into the rocks with all his black clothing.

       She was dressed in what looked like a simple white frock, and long, straight hair fell down her back and swayed behind her as she walked.  He couldn't distuinguish her features or the color of her hair in the darkness, and wondered idly if she'd get close enough for him to see her.

       Her sweet, lilting voice carried down to him on the slight breeze.  She wasn't singing in words, but in an almost sorrowful wail, that rose and fell in the air, hauntingly sweet and almost familiar sounding.

       Spike tilted his head to the side a bit, watching her as she came a bit closer, still oblivious to his presence.

       She stopped a couple yards off from him, turning to face the ocean.  He vamped out to see better in the darkness, and he could just barely see she had brown hair that glistened in the moonlight, seemingly shot through with highlights of red that seemed to change it's hue whenever she moved slightly.  Her skin was very pale, maybe even more so then his, and he watched as she lifted her head a bit, her sorrowful song warbling off into the dark night.

       It tapered off slowly, and then she stood there in silence for several minutes, still not aware of the man watching her, and Spike sat up a bit as she stepped into the cold water, the waves washing against her feet.

       Then, suddenly, she plunged head-first into the cold ocean, and disappeared beneath the waves, and Spike jumped to his feet, looking around in confusion when she didn't resurface right away.  He waited nearly half an hour, but there was no sign of the girl anymore, and he frowned in confusion.

       He jumped down from the rock and walked up each side of the beach for a mile, looking for a sign of the mysterious girl before giving up, wondering if he had just watched some scorned woman commit suicide.  It seemed like many of the Scottish tall tales he had heard at his favorite pub had women killing themselves like that.

       He shook his head slightly, looking back out to sea, starting when he saw a head emerge from the water, then laughed at his own foolishness as a sleek seal peeked it's head out briefly, large, sorrwoful brown eyes capturing his briefly before diving back beneath the cold, black water.

       The next night, Spike was sitting in his favorite booth at his pub, The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, enjoying a nice pint.

       He looked up as a large, bear of a man, with a cocky grin and braggart manner slid in across from him, nodding at Spike, "In for a 'nother night of drinkin' mate?"  He asked good-naturedly.

       Spike smiled to himself, "What else, Owen?"  Spike asked, downing the rest of his pint and a waitress hurried to refill it, and Owen ordered one for himself.  Of all the people Spike had met thus far, he liked Owen the best.  

       The man was loud, arrogrant, but he knew how to drink, and he had the lewdest jokes of anyone on the planet.  His favorite, of course, were English jokes.  "Did I you ever hear the one about the Englishman and the sheep?"  Was his most often conversation opener.

       "How are you tonight this lovely evening?"  Owen asked with false politness, his eyes twinkling.  He was obviously dying to tell a new joke he had heard, and Spike smiled, deciding to prolong his wait.

       Spike shrugged, "Same old," He replied, leaning forward, "Did a girl go missing recently?  I mean...since yesterday night?"

       "Girls?  No, mate, but there's been a plenty of sheep gone missing.  I tell you, Ainsel is all about, running around, screaming about wolves, of all things.  There haven't been wolves around Scotland for the mother knows how long..."

       Spike decided that was a subject best not breached, and cleared his throat, sitting back in the booth, "Last night...I saw some girl leap into the water, and disappear.  You sure no one's gone missing?"

       "No...if someone was, we'd 'a heard abou it by now...what with the gossips we got running around here.  No one's missing...you sure about what you seen?"

       "Pretty damn sure."

       "Well, what did you see?"  Owen asked, curious despite himself, the twinkle of mischeivousness in his eyes turned to one of curiousity.

       "Not much...girl...couldn't really see her face, wearing a white dress and walking down the beach.  She was singing...but not with words, y'know...kinda like a low wailing...bloody sad thing it was too...damn near brought tears to my eyes..."

       Owen was leaning forward even more, nodding for Spike to go on, and the vampire took a deep drink of his pint before clearing his throat, "Couldn't see much of 'er, since it was so dark, but she had reddish-brown hair...silky looking...fell down to well below her waist...anyway, when she's done singing, she bloody dives into the water and disappears.  Poof, she's gone like that, and no more sign of her, not even a bloody air bubble."

       "Really, you sure about that?"

       "Damn straight."

       "You didn't see nothin' afterwards...at all?"

       "No...well...there was a seal, but it's not like she changed into a bloody seal..." Spike's words trailed off when he saw the look on Owen's face, "You've got to be kidding me..."

       "Don't knock it mate.  There's many a'strange thing in this here world...no explanations for them, y'know?  Disappearences...deaths...even strange people..."

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, maybe...but come on...you're telling me a woman changed into a bloody seal?  Now that's rich.  I never bloody heard of a thing like that!"

       "In old Scottish wife tales," Owen said, settling into role of story-teller, looking very pleased with himself, "They tell o' a sea king, who had a beautiful daughter...so beautiful that men would weep when they a'saw her, and lay down their lifes to just spend one night wit' her.  She had brown hair that was sleek and silky to the touch, and the largest, most beautiful pair of brown eyes that a man could get lost in, gladly.

       "And as old tales go, by and by, the king gets a hankering for a woman, and a'course, picks the worse o'the lot."

       "Of course," Spike said with a smirk, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

       "Well, the sea king picks out his wife, who's a sea witch...worse of the worse, a'course.  Well, as it goes, the witch gets jealous of the beautiful daughter, and casts a spell on 'er..."

       "Let me guess...she turned her into a seal," Spike said, finally rolling his eyes.  This was bloody ridicolous.

       "Right...and she could only revert back into her normal form during the night.  Tale goes that she would walk along the beaches at night, a'wailing and a'sorrowing for her sad fate, before plunging into the water to become a seal once more.

       "As it goes, as all tales do, that a young man from this very here village saw her, and at once loved her, but did not know what she was.  All night, they played together, and loved each other, but near dawn, she slipped away from him.  Foolish young man that he was, he followed her, and watched as she plunged into the water, and transformed into a seal before he's very eyes.

       "They say he went mad with grief, and plunged in after her, and t'was drowned that very night, and since then, people claim to see a young girl, walking the beaches at night, a'wailing and a'sorrowing for her lost man."

       Owen leaned back, looking self-satisfied with his tale, and the way the lean Englishman had leaned towards him, taking in the tale almost eagerly, and looked disappointed when the tale ended.

       "That's all?"

       "Aye, mate...why?  Not suit you?"

       "What about the catch?"

       "Catch?  What catch?"

       "There's always a bloody way to break the spell," Spike said, giving Owen a look, as if he was the most dense man on the planet, and Owen let out a raucous laugh.

       "That's rich, Englishman.  That's your tales, not ours.  We don't always have happy, fairy tale endings.  More often then not, there's always a broken party at the end."

       "Well...that just sucks...so you telling me that poor girl is stuck as a seal forever?"

       "Now, mate, you wouldn't be taking in stock in the old bullshit Owen was laying?"  He asked in bemusement.  "It's just a tale, a good one, aye, but still just a tale.  Don't believe it for a second myself..."

       "What?!  Then what was all that crap about strange things in this world...blah blah blah..."

       "Aye, just setting the mood, friend," Owen grinned widely, pleased with the way Spike had been taken in, then leaned forward, "All right...so...an Englishman walks into a pub..."

       As the sun dipped below the horizon, the water lapped against black, smooth stones, and all was still.  Presently, there was a small splash as a sleek, brown head emerged from beneath the water, sorrowful, chocolate brown eyes surveying the shore line before dipping back below the water.

       Soon, a girl with long, reddish-brown hair, a white dress clinging to her wet body stepped from the water, her large eyes turned up towards the shore line, where the lights of the village twinkled merrily, beckoning with a friendly hand towards all that would heed it.

       Instead, she turned her gaze back to the beach with a sorrowful wail, taking up her nightly virgil once more.

       Spike was sitting in his rooms at the MacAvee Inn, feet up on an old, oak table, listening to his headphones as the landlady cleaned up his room.  He was the only patron, since they didn't get many visitors, and the amount he paid for the entire upstairs to himself, as well as other expenses, kept the landlady, normally a huge gossip, from imparting too much information about her current occupant.

       He kept odd hours, but he begged off such by saying that he had a sun allergy, which necissitated the heavy, black curtains on his window, and she accepted his word for that, going as far as to say that it was such a pity that such a handsome young man as himself should be stuck indoors all day.

       Spike had only shrugged and said he learned to deal with it a long time before, which was more true then he led her to believe.

       When the vacuum cleaner, an ancient tube canister one, shut off, Spike removed his headphones to glance at the landlady, "Hey, Mrs. MacAvee?  Ever hear that story about the bird that was a seal?"

       Mrs. MacAvee looked at him in surprise, "Aye.  We were told that story since we were wee bairns...supposed to frighten us off the shores at night, lest we be drowned."

       "Frighten you?"  Spike cocked his head slightly, "The story Owen told me didn't sound frightening."

       "Aye...he probably told you about the mad young man, then?"

       Spike nodded, and Mrs. MacAvee leaned her large frame against the back of a hunter green chair, "Some versions, the ones we were told to fright us from the water, say that she dragged the man into the water and drowned him, so that she might be with him forever, but the poor dear didn't understand why he died, since she is a sea princess, a'course..."

       "Of course..."

       "And they say she looks up and down the shore, luring men towards her with her singing, and then tries to take to live with her in the sea, but then they are drowned, leaving her to search once more the next night."

       "Well...which one's true, then?"

       Mrs. MacAvee looked at him closely, and seeing he was being serious, burst out laughing, as Owen had.  "My boy, you'll not be thinking that such tales are true, then?"

       "I saw a girl on the beach...she fit the describition..."

       Mrs. MacAvee laughed once more, "Oh, William, those tales are only for dark, cold nights by the fire, telling them to your grand-children.  Not to be taking seriously.  There are fairytales, after all..."

       "I know.  But just out of curiousity...is there a way to break the spell?  I mean...make her so she's not a seal..."

       "Well...it depends.  There are versions of the seal-woman all up and down Scotland, and probably Ireland too.  Some say that if you steal her seal skin, she will remain human.  However, our girl doesn't have one, I believe...so...I suppose she's stuck like that." Mrs. MacAvee sighed as she shook her head, "The poor dear..." She murmured before turning her attention back to her cleaning, and Spike put his headphones back on as she started the vacuum once more.

       A few days later, Spike found himself down by the beach once more, walking along the water.  He weaved a bit, nearly falling down, belying his drunken state, and he snorted out laughter as he called down the beach.  "Here, fishy, fishy, fishy!"

       His cries soon tapered off when he realized it wasn't exactly luring any seals out of the water, and he took a seat on the rock he had used before, looking up and down the beach, listening for signs of the seal maiden.

       Presently, he could hear faint strains of that haunting, keening song, and he jumped off his rock, heading towards the sound.

       Soon, he saw the outline of the woman singing, her white dress billowing around her, and grinned widely before stumbling over a rock and knocking himself out.

       Spike's head was throbbing like a bitch, and the vampire groaned, feeling as if he was going to puke, but the oddity of vampire physiology disallowed that.

       Instead, he tried to take stock of his situation.  According to his inner clock, it was less then an hour to sunrise, and judging by the way his back was all wet, he was near the beach, which could get bad in a few minutes.

       He felt something on his face, then the taste of saltwater across his lips, and he cracked one eye open, seeing a blurry face in his vision and with an effort, opened the other eye.

       The face jumped into focus, revealing a pale, beautiful woman, with large, doe-like brown eyes, and long, straight, sleek reddish brown hair that cascaded down over her shoulders, brushing his face.

       When she saw he was awake, she straightened, leaving Spike to stare at a pair of long, slender legs that disappeared into a gauzy white dress.

       He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat up, and saw the girl had retreated several feet, watching him warily, one bare foot in the water.

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "Seal girl, I presume," He said drily, "Name's Spike, and you would be...?"

       She didn't answer, only cocking her head to the side, studying him in complete silence, and Spike rolled his eyes, "Right...wouldn't expect you to talk people talk, now would I?"

       "Androna..."

       He could barely hear what she said, her soft voice carrying on the breeze, and she looked over her shoulder as the sun began to lighten the sky, then gave him one last glance before whirling and disappearing beneath the surf.

       Spike watched the spot where she had gone under, and sure enough, a few seconds later, a sleek brown hair peeked out of the water, the seal's skin seeming to shine, and with a turn of it's flippers, she was gone.

       Spike sighed as he stood, making his way up the beach once more, trying to make it back inside before the sun fully rose.

       The first thing Owen noticed when he sat across from Spike was the nasty healing gash across his forehead, and his eyes widened, "My God, man...what the hell did you do?"

       "Got a bit pissed last night and took a fall on the beach," Spike said, wincing when Owen touched the cut.

       "That's nasty, mate.  Maybe you should get the doc to look at it..."

       "No...it's fine...be gone by tomorrow, guarenteed."

       Owen nodded, seeing on closer inspection that it wasn't as bad as he thought, and glanced at Spike, raising an eyebrow, "One the beach, huh?  See your seal girl?"

       "As a matter of fact, I did..." Spike grinned slightly at Owen's incredulous look, "Your story didn't do the chit justice...she's bloody beautiful!"

       "Right...you sure you don't want to see the doc?"

       Spike rolled his eyes, standing up, "Come on, mate...I'll prove it to you..."

       "Right...sure..." Owen shook his head, humouring his friend with a grin, "I have a hundred pounds that says we won't see her."

       "You got yourself a bet," Spike replied with a grin, leading the way out of the bar, and Owen's grin widened.  

       "Easiest money I ever made."

       They had been sitting there for over an hour and a half, and there was no sign of Androna, and Owen was eagerly anticpating the Englishman's defeat, when Spike's ears perked up, and he grinned.

       "Hear that?"

       "Hear what?"  Owen looked up and down the beach in confusion.  "I don't hear nothing."

       "Just wait..."

       Sure enough, a few moments later, the faintest of sounds could be heard, and Spike cocked his head.  To him, it sounded less sad then before.

       Owen glanced at Spike, shaking his head, "Shrewd...what?  You got one of the boys up there with a tape deck or something?"

       "Nope..." Spike stood, watching as a gauzy, white form appeared in the distance, and Owen followed his gaze, arching an eyebrow, "Aye...I know her...that's Moll...the town whore...mate, I thought you had some taste."

       "Ain't her, believe me..."

       Owen started to shift on his feet uncomfortably, "My mother used to tell me she drowned men...purely for pleasure..."

       "Not a chance..."

       "Be wary of her, friend...the Lorelai of Ireland would lure men to their deaths with such a haunting voice," Owen's voice had fallen low, and Spike could detect the slightest trace of fear emanating off of the man, and half-smiled.  "And the Sirens, Will...what about those sirens...?"

       The girl came closer, and Spike could tell as she became more visible, Owen became more fearful, stomping his feet like a great, two-legged horse.

       Hair glinted in the moonlight, and a pale, beautiful face turned towards them, the song tapering off as she stopped several feet from them.  

       Owen had gripped Spike's shoulder, his nails digging into the vampire's flesh, "Come, mate...let her be...it is her beach after dark..." He murmured, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the seal maiden, her beauty almost blinding, but still, he feared her for her supposed power.

       Spike ignored him, nodding at the girl, "Allo, pet..."

       She didn't answer him, instead cocking her head as she contemplated Owen beside him, a slow, upturning of her lips the only sign of her acknowledging their presence.  Her half-smile wasn't at all frightening, but Owen still wailed, whirling around and pounding up the beach.

       Adrona cast her eyes down at his retreat, her smile slipping from her face as she turned her back on Spike, making once more to walk the beach, but Spike moved swiftly, falling into step beside her, and she jerked to the side in startlement, her eyes going even more wide.

       Spike took a step back, holding his hands up, smiling as charmingly as he could, his teeth flashing behind his lips.

       She immediately tensed, her chocolate brown eyes narrowing and Spike nearly swore as he closed his lips together, still smiling.  She spent God knows how long in the form of a seal, and a show of teeth to any animal was threatening.

       "Sorry, pet...you remember me, don't you? Spike?  'Member last night...falling on my face like a stupid git?"

       A small upcurl of her lips and a shy ducking of her head was his answer, and he nearly grinned before catching himself, "That's right, your old pal, Spike...not going to be drowning me, are you?"

       She cocked her head, as if weighing his words before shaking her head, and Spike sighed, "Don't talk much, do you?"

       She shook her head once more, and Spike rolled his eyes as he sat down on the damp sand near the water's edge, "This could be gettin' old fast.  Even Dru had an answer even now and again..."

       "Dru?"  Once more her soft voice barely reached him, and he looked up as he took a cigarette out of his duster pocket.

       "Ah...she speaks.  Dru's my old bird, luv."

       Adrona frowned, as if trying to understand his terminology, then interlocked her thumbs together, making a bird shape, "Dru a bird?"

       "No...Dru's a girl...I just...she's a girl, all right?  My old girlfriend..."

       Once more she frowned, and Spike frowned with her, trying to get his meaning across, then brightened, "My mate, luv.  She's my mate."

       "Mate," Adrona brightened considerably at finally understanding what he meant, then looked up and down the beach, "Where?"

       "She's gone...she left me.  Kinda a long story..."

       Once again, her pretty face crossed in a frown, "Leave?  But you mate for life..."

       "Seals and princesses, maybe, pet...but not Dru...I thought she did...but turns out that's a bit of a misunderstanding on my end..." Spike shook his head slightly, examining th end of his cigarrette morosely, "That's what I thought, anyway..."

       Adrona looked slightly conflicted, then sat down about a foot from him, still careful to keep her distance.  "I ahad mate," She said, her soft voice sounding disused.  Considering Owen's reaction to see her, he doubted she had anyone to talk too for a long while.  "He..." She frowned, trying to find her meaning, "Die...?"  She half-asked, wondering if she had the word right, and Spike nodded.

       "Heard about that.  Drowned, did he?"

       "He...tried to follow me..." She looked out towards the ocean, pulling on a strand of long, sleek hair, then whispered, "They can't...they never can..."

       Spike nodded, butting out his smoldering cigarrette and lit another for lack of anything else to do, and she wrinkled her nose at the scent, as Spike glanced at her, taking a drag, "So, tell me, pet...anyway to break that spell over you?"

       She sighed, shrugging.  "Tried...but it has never...worked..."

       "Nothing worked?"

       "Gave up..." She shook her head, "It was long ago.  It is forever, I am afraid."

       Spike nodded slowly, and she focused her attention on the end of his cigarrette curiously, and before Spike could stop her, she reached out to touch it.

       She cried out, jerking her finger back, tears filling her wide eyes, making them glisten as she looked down at her finger in confusion.

       Spike flung his cigarrette away, taking her hand as she whimpered, shaking his head, "It's hot, pet...glowing usually means hot..." He told her, "Like candles...you seen candles right?"

       She looked at him, shaking her head as he looked down at her finger, seeing the tip was red, and she yelped as he touched it gingerly.  "Needs ice," He said, and she blinked back her tears as he touched her fingertip to his lips.  She jerked her hand away, cradling it to her chest, eyeing him mistrustfully.

       Spike shook his head slightly, leaning back on his hands as he contemplated her, "How long have you been doing this?"

       She shook her head, looking upwards towards the night sky, "Forever," She murmured, standing up.

       Spike went to stand as well, but she shook her head sadly, "I leave tonight...the waters grow too cold..."

       "Tonight?"

       "The migration..." She gestured at the ocean, "The seals leave at dawn.  There are safety in numbers..."

       "Safety...but..."

       "The sharks...and the whales...and the men..." She shuddered suddenly, murmuring, "And my mother...they are all dangers to me in my seal form..."

       "Your mother?  The witch?!"  

       Adrona nodded slowly, "The Gods be with you, Spike," She turned to leave, but Spike stood up, swiftly making it to her side, "Where will you go?"

       "South, for now," She answered, "Where they stop, I stop, where they feed, I feed.  Where they sleep, I sleep..."

       "And where they mate?"

       "I do not.  My mate is dead.  We mate for life," She told him, stepping away from him and towards the water.

       "A human's life is meagre, pet...you couldn't expect him to leave for long..."

       "No...but he was mine, and I was his..." Tears filled her eyes, and then she turned and ran into the water, but Spike was on her heels.

       "Wait, pet!  Adrona, wait a minute!"  She paused, the water lapping at her waist-line, and Spike floundered in the water a bit before catching himself.

       "This is not your world..." She told him, shaking her head slightly, "The water is cold and will freeze mortal flesh, and burn a mortal's lungs..."

       "Ask me if I give a damn..." Spike muttered before wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her against him, smashing his lips against hers.

       Owen was fairly shaking as he stood on the edge of the beach, waiting for Spike to come back.  

       He nearly screamed as a inhuman howl ripped through the night, chilling his blood to the core, he did  not recoginizing it for what it was.

       A vampire mating call.

       The fire burned merrily in the hearth, and Mrs. MacAvee smiled as her grandchildren gathered around her.

       "And that was my tale, my wee ones...a sorrowful seal maiden, trapped in the body of a seal by day, and the body of the most beautiful woman you ever did see.  And how she took an Englishman to mate, both living in the darkness of the night, one hiding...the other confined to the oceans...of two lonely souls that found each other purely by chance...right here on the very shores of our village.  Was the spell ever broken, you ask?"

       Mrs. MacAvee smiled sadly as she looked out the windows as a pair of shadows walked the beach together, "Maybe one day, children...they will find a way to free her, for they have nothing but time..."

The End

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