Faith was talking to herself. 

Or, more accurately, the ‘Faith’ part of her personality and the ‘Slayer’ part of her were arguing. 

Slayer wanted to fight, to rip with claws and teeth and anything remotely accessible into her captors. She wanted freedom –physical and emotional – and she wanted it any way she could get it, no matter the odds or the consequences. Fighting was her style she didn’t care who, she didn’t care what, but it would be until the very end. 

Faith didn’t care.

She wanted to rest for she was so very tired and fighting required more energy than she could possibly even think about mustering at the moment. Dawn, her one and only reason for staying alert, for caring, was gone to the upper reaches of her prison house in the not very sane and questionably capable hands of Drusilla. She was all alone – Lilah didn’t count for the other woman hadn’t uttered a word in so long Faith forgot most times she was there; well until Angelus had begun instructing her on the finer points of being a mindless idiot. 

The strange twist was the more the two separate parts of her personality argued and the more the Slayer won…the more the Slayer was drawn to the darkness. Her power was rooted there, taken the same pool from which vampires initially drew.

They were two parts of the same whole; they had to be for one to win over the other, for the slayer to have the power to destroy the demon. And yet they refused, absolutely, to admit that. The Slayer was, of course, the ultimate tool for good; the demon absolute evil. 

A soul. The one thing a vampire was missing. (Well, most times…) It was what separated the slayer from the vampire, good from evil. Yet the slayer’s power was also tempered with a dose of humanity. Whether that was the slayer’s own or friends and family, or a watcher, something else needed to be added. 

The First Slayer was proof of that. 

Without that dose of humanity, the slayer was a killing machine. Trained to be the ultimate destroyer of everything in her way whether they were vampires, humans, or whatever, nothing survived her wrath. So as she steadily grew stronger and Faith weaker, it was no wonder that the combination was…combustible.

Faith was, without a doubt, out only for herself. She had changed during her time in prison and after, while fighting in Russia, that was true, but at her core, she was the same as when she joined up with the would be demon, Mayor Richard Wilkins III all those years ago. Needy, clingy, looking out for herself first and others only if they happened to be near her and she could do something about it without sacrificing her own safety. 

There were times when she had acquitted herself admirably, selflessly even, but those times were few and far between. 

No, it was Faith’s self-centeredness, her belief that the world owed her and her alone that was her downfall. The slayer, having lived with that flaw for so many years, took it into herself and made it hers. Combined the viciousness that was she and the selfishness that was Faith and made…something else. 

Something that was determined to survive this torture because she wanted freedom, revenge upon…just about everyone, and in seeking that revenge she would become nothing more than a slave to it. Using whatever means necessary, she would lose that essential part of herself, that part that influenced self-determination and become nothing more than a lapdog to the captors she had so desperately wanted to escape. 

Except that in dreaming of escape, she had bound herself more fully to them and their cause than even she realized.
~~~~~~~~~~
Spike had watched her reactions for several days now, waiting for her to do or say something that would confirm both his and Buffy’s suspicions. Or for her to do nothing, for that was so un-Faith like, again confirming his belief that she was not all she appeared and that there was a small yet intensely alive part of her that was more. 

It was that part that finally broke free. 

He wasn’t the most patience of beings, preferring the quick kill, the quick death over prolonged torture, not that he didn’t like to maim and mutilate to his dead heart’s desire, but he just didn’t have the time for it. There was always something to see and do, someone else to hunt and hurt. Angelus on the other hand excelled at it, thinking up new and ever more creative ways to extend a being’s pain and anguish. 

But Faith was different; she held something that fascinated Spike, something that, corny though it sounded, called to him. Not in a sexual way or even in a compassionate one. This was all predator; calling on his most basic instincts to harm and wound and, eventually to recreate. 

Flinging his cigarette away from him, Spike walked up to her until he was standing less than a foot away. “Faith, look at me.” 

When she did, the look in here eyes was cold, hard, but held no hesitation, no fear, and absolutely no hatred. There was nothing there whatsoever as a matter of fact. As if whatever was to be found there, now, had frozen any and all emotion out, leaving an empty hollow space which he was only too happy to fill. 

“What do you want the most, Faith?” 

“Freedom,” came her reply several moments later. 

“Freedom from what?” 

“Pain, suffering, confusion.” 

Curious, Spike tilted his head, looking into her eyes, those black endless pits, once more. “Who makes you feel this way?” 

“Everyone does.” 

Now that was interesting. ‘Everyone’ wasn’t holding her hostage in the wine cellar of a confiscated mansion (okay, so now Angelus owned it outright, but it wasn’t always so and not really the point of Spike’s thoughts.) “Who is everyone?” 

“Everyone,” she only repeated, adamantly. 

Spike nodded again at her reply, taking a slice of apple from the nearby tray and feeding it to her. He continued to feed her until not only the apple was gone, but an orange and several mini-carrots as well. Allowing her to drink from the glass of water, Spike said nothing more, simply walked away. 

He might need assistance on this little project of his. He had never actually broken then remolded a person before, Dru was already ‘remade’ when he was turned. Spike had already agreed to her desire to ‘help’ with the slayer and she was good, no denying that, but he was thinking that someone a bit more proficient might be of help. 

Turning at the door he changed his mind and asked one more question. “What do you want to do them?” 

“Kill them,” she said, her voice still devoid of emotion, “Kill them all.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus lay spread on his stomach, head turned just enough so he could watch Buffy out of the corner of his eye. 

She had been exploring him, leisurely, for some time now, reacquainting herself with the nuances of his body. Currently straddling his upper thighs, she traced every line of his tattoo with tongue and fingers before moving across his back and shoulders, down his spine. Massaging his shoulders, the tension there magically disappearing with every touch of her soft hands, her supple lips. 

“Maybe we should have taken a nice vacation before we started on our plan, love,” Buffy said as she moved her hands in one firm stroke down, earning a pleased groan from her lover, then back up to his shoulders. 

“A vacation?” He asked, flipping them over so he could look at her. Her hair was floating is soft tangled waves about her head and he gently pushed a wayward lock behind her ear, hand lingering on her cheek. Her eyes were hazy with passion even though they had sated their lust for each other several times already. 

“You know vacation, a trip to someplace not usually visited by us, to rest and relax, indulge in each other, feast on the local populace, whatever.” Her hands trailed over his hard chest as she smiled impishly down at him, her bare breasts tingling at his hungry gaze. 

“Yes, love,” he laughed as his hands teased her nipples, molding breasts, “I know what a vacation is. My question was why?” 

“A nice get away, no interruptions, no family, no obligations, just you,” she leaned down to capture his mouth in a brief but heated kiss, her hardened nipples scraping against his cool chest, “and me on some nice semiprivate tropical island.” 

“A tropical island? You want to vacation where the sun shines more hours than it doesn’t?” He laughed again, bringing her left hand to his mouth, kissing her ring. “Why there, love?” 

“Because it’s warm and I’ve lived in Southern California all my life and cold just doesn’t work with me.” She lay atop of him, snuggling on his chest to lightly caress the skin under her fingertips. “A nice warm breeze flowing through opened windows, the smell of the ocean everywhere…” Buffy sighed at the image, why hadn’t she thought of this before? 

“Swimming naked in the warm ocean as the waves lap around us,” Angelus continued, understanding exactly where she was going with this. Running his hands through her hair to pull it off her face he added, “No one around to bother us, yes I can see the appeal.” 

Buffy grinned up at him, leaning forward a bit to taste his lips once more as Angelus’ hands disentangled from her hair to settled on her hips, maneuvering her so she sheathed his erection, her small feet resting on his shoulders, back against his raised knees. Buffy gasped at the sensation, she felt impossibly full, Angelus impossibly deep and she loved it. 

The sudden knock on the door earned the intruder a growled, “Enter,” but a promise of serious retribution for whoever had interrupted. 

Angelus – reluctantly – separated himself from Buffy’s addicting embrace, her moan of disappointment echoed by him. Whoever was at their door wasn’t going to live to see their next sunset if this wasn’t important. He pulled the dark purple sheet off the floor and quickly covered Buffy with it in the few seconds it took for the person to open the door and walk through. 

Spike walked in, eyes lowered to kneel on one leg before his sire. He knew that he was interrupting, but this couldn’t wait. If he waited until Angelus descended from his rooms, Spike was sure he’d miss his opportunity to talk with him about anything other than the latest happenings in LA. He usually immersed himself rather quickly in his new tasks as ultimate leader of the demon community and things such as this would continuously take a back seat to that. 

Of course if Angelus killed him for this interruption then none of it would matter, but he wanted to implement his plan for the slayer as soon as possible. 

“Sire,” Spike began, hoping that formality would lessen, somewhat, Angelus’ well known and lethal temper. One could always hope. “I require your assistance.” 

Momentarily speechless – Spike rarely said those words and never with his name (or title) linked with them – Angelus spared a brief look at Buffy who shrugged her confusion as well and said, “With what, Childe?” 

“The slayer, Sire.” 

A feral smile spread across Angelus’ face. Buffy had told him how Spike wanted to make Faith an assassin, a slave if nothing else and he had agreed that it was an intriguing idea. One slayer as Joined Mate the other as trained killer; it was a tempting thought. More than that the mere concept was stimulating with the many aspects that opened up to them if they could pull this off. 

While he was slightly…disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to her first Angelus reasoned that he couldn’t hog all their guests, he had to share at least one of them. 

“What are your plans with her, Spike?” Angelus asked, sitting further up on the bed, uncaring of his nudity, and bringing a sheet covered Buffy to his side where she made herself comfortable caressing his stomach, teasing his straining cock, and listening. Her nudity he cared about, though, and no one but himself was to ever see her unclothed. 

Spike looked up at his sire, still kneeling on the floor. In that brief glance that lasted only a second he saw Angelus’ throbbing erection laying against his alabaster skin, Buffy’s small hand teasing the head and remembered past times when he, Spike, had been the one to ease that need. In that second Spike recalled everything Angelus had done to and with him, teaching him the finer points of their relationship. 

Shaking off the vivid flash of memories and meeting Angelus’ knowing gaze, the passion for his mate hidden behind steady eyes, Spike smiled. The smile matched his Sire’s in malice intent and he said, “To turn her into a force for us, while keeping her human so another isn’t called.”
~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later Angelus joined Spike in the cellar, having eased his need with the only one to do so anymore. 

It wasn’t that Spike was jealous of Buffy, okay maybe slightly, but he had accepted long ago, when the gypsies had first cursed Angelus with a soul, that nothing between them would ever be the same. And he had Drusilla who continued, even after all these decades, to surprise him. Not exactly a fair trade because Spike occasionally, though he’d never admit it, missed Angelus, but one he enjoyed beyond anything else. 

Spike had only ever wanted his dark princess, though Angelus held a close second. 

“So, Spike, you asked for my help?” 

Because he had, indeed, gotten to finish most pleasantly what he and Buffy started and Spike was indulging in one of his, Angelus’, favored pastimes, the younger vampire wasn’t going to be dusted anytime soon. The thought of torturing had perked Angelus right up, well, that and the face that Spike had actually asked for help. 

It was Angelus’ sadistic streak that caused a smile at that, he just couldn’t help it, nor did he care to. 

Spike nodded absently as he continued to study Faith who was now asleep, hanging limply from her chains. They were standing in the back, out of earshot so as not to wake her and give away any part of whatever plan they came up with. No use having their prey privy to her upcoming torments. There was fun in that, but not before they decided on what those torments would entail. 

“I admit that I’ve never actually broken anyone before or at least not with an express purpose of remolding them. I think Faith the person is gone and only the essence of the slayer remains. The slayer, properly trained, will make a fine asset to our group and a wonderful assassin.” 

Angelus cocked his head to the side and looked at the woman who had once tried to bring him to the fore, thinking he’d want her, would want to kill Buffy for her. 

Naïve to say the least, stupid on more levels than he could begin to explore; homework had obviously not been either her or Wilkins’ strong point. And that would have surprised him had he actually cared in the least about them. 

“The first thing is to make sure Faith is gone. If the slayer is all that’s left in there then that makes your plan slightly simpler. One mind is easier to reshape than two inhabiting the same space. Next, and I know you can do this my boy, is to break the slayer from all previous notions, from all idea of right and wrong.”

Spike nodded as he continued to look at Faith. He knew all this, this was the fun part, making sure that the victims were alone and everything they thought they knew was reversed. And, theoretically, he knew the next steps as well; he just never bothered to implement them. 

“Faith is gone, I can guarantee that, if she weren’t then we’d be hearing a lot more smart assed comments than we have been, much like we did in the beginning of her stay with us. The slayer is…breaking. I think she’s embracing the darkness she’s dwelled in and realizing that it’s the only thing keeping her alive.” 

Again Angelus nodded. This was almost…fun, teaching Spike the finer points of breaking a mind. He had taught his childe so very much in the beginning of their relationship and realized, now, that he had missed that. It was nice to not only have a pupil, but to have his childe back. 

“Focus on that when you taunt her, then. Make sure she realizes that the only thing that’s going to save her is to fully embrace that part of her heritage. That there are beings out there that have wronged her, that she’s still needed and that in order to get revenge she’s going to have to destroy them. Show distinctions between them and us. Maybe find her a room where she can sleep laying down on a bed and has food and drink when she wishes.” 

Spike focused on everything Angelus said, knowing most of it but committing it all to memory anyway. He was changing, he knew, but there were things happening that required as much. He couldn’t stay static no matter how much he loved his live; he had new responsibilities and new feelings towards those responsibilities. 

When Angelus eventually went back to his rooms, presumably to bed Buffy again as torture, or even the thought of it, always turned him on, Spike unchained Faith, carrying her to a servants room off the kitchen. Laying her on the single bed there he covered her with the blanket before exiting the room and locking the door. There were no windows in the room and only one exit. 

Given time he was sure Faith could break the thick oak door, but not before someone heard and responded. He posted a minion outside just in case, though. 

Later he’d make sure she was bathed and fed, but for now he was hungry. Tomorrow he’d start Faith’s new schedule, break her from whatever attachment she had with the sun and teach her some of the finer points of their little family. 

Whistling he climbed the stairs to his rooms and his Drusilla. Maybe a quick tumble before they went out, torture turned him on, too. 

He found Drusilla dressing in their rooms, crooning to Dawn who looked at the vampiress with such adoration that Spike had to forcibly resist the urge to howl in laughter. The poor chit’s mind was totally gone – much like the object of her adoration – if she looked at Drusilla that way. 

Still, at least taking care of her, or Dru taking care of her, eased whatever residual guilt he had about what they planned on doing to her. 

“Dru, love,” he said softly, Dawn was more than a little skittish near him and having her thrown into an anxiety attack would help his plans for the evening not at all, “Are you ready to go out?” 

He was careful not to say hunting or feeding in front of Dawn, partly because he didn’t want to be the one to trigger whatever memory she had left, and partly because he still felt that tiny bit of guilt. Not at finally being able to feed again, but in doing so when he had promised her that he’d take care of her. 

“My Spike, I’ve missed you.” She scolded in a sing-song voice as she floated across the room to embrace him, her teeth grazing his cheek before lapping the blood there. “You spend too much time with that naughty slayer and not enough with your princess.” 

Spike sighed once, before crushing her lips in a bruising kiss. “There’s only you, pet, no worries there. But you remember our plan for the slayer, don’t you?” At her enthusiastic nod he continued, “Angelus is going to be there as well, but I really need your help, pet.” That perked her right up because she smiled at him and clapped happily. 

“Are we going to eat, then?” Dru asked, sitting on the bed to stroke Dawn’s long hair. “It’s been so long since we’ve been out, and I need to go with mommy later.” 

Spike smirked at the sight before him. There was something seriously wrong when Dawn thought that Dru was going to help and protect her. Nodding at her, he held out his hand to help her stand, looking at Dawn as the girl watched him.

“Come on ducks, we’ve a lot to do tonight. Say goodbye to Dawn.” 

Dru let go of his hand, going back to the girl and kissing her atop her head, smoothing down her hair once more. “Now be a good girl while I’m away, my sunrise, and maybe I’ll bring you a treat later.” 

Spike shook his head again, mentally noting that they’d need to pick up some human food, chocolate maybe instead of whatever Drusilla had planned as a treat for the girl. With one last glance at the smiling, uncomprehending face of his one time friend, Spike led Drusilla out the room and into the night.

He planned on enjoying her supple flesh soon, but that residual guilt was telling him not to in front of Dawn. He really needed to get rid of that guilt; it did nothing to help his sex life.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus found Buffy just coming out of the shower, naked and wet, by the time he returned to their rooms. 

“You and Spike enjoy your Sire/Childe bonding time?” 

Chuckling at her phrasing, Angelus nodded, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his lips brushing the back of her neck. “He was never really one to remake anyone to his qualifications, preferring instead to torture for the fun of it; which is always enjoyable, but there’s just something so satisfying about destroying before rebuilding a mind. But I think Faith will make a fine first project and he seems really intent on it. Also a first as Spike’s attention span isn’t the longest.” 

Rubbing against his leather clad erection as she turned in his arms, Buffy purred as his hands smoothed down her back, over hip and buttocks before wrenching her thighs apart and lifting her off the ground, locking those strong legs around his clothed waist. “I thought you wanted to hunt first, baby, before those sects from Canada arrived with Paul. And I’m supposed to meet with Willow and Drusilla at The Infinity, don’t forget; those Yloikca demons from Paraguay are supposed to be there.”   

“Just a quick fuck, love, there’s always time for that.” 

Slamming her against the wall of the bathroom hard enough to crack tile, Angelus caught her mouth with his as she ripped open the shirt she wasn’t sure why he had bothered with, sending buttons flying and tugging it down his arms, her quick hands unfastening his pants, cupping his growing erection. Not bothering to remove his pants, Angelus slammed into her with one sure thrust, watching her eyes shift from hazel to golden. 

Suckling her breasts, biting them hard enough to draw blood, he set a bruising pace one which she easily matched. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scraped down his back, also drawing blood, the scent driving them faster against the wall. 

With a cry of his name Buffy slammed down once more, coming hard, sinking her fangs into his mark as, seconds later, Angelus felt his release crash through him, his own fangs finding the scar on her neck instinctively. Tasting her passion soaked blood, so intractably mixed with his own, Angelus lapped at the mark, indulging himself in her. 

Long moments later, as their systems finally leveled, Buffy smirked at her mate, her tongue still caressing his scar. “Ready to eat now, lover?” She purred, pulling back slightly to lick her fingers of his blood. 

“How about we find a nice family, love? Those are always the best; their terror for each other and themselves spice the blood very agreeably.” 

“Hmm, perfect,” Buffy agreed as she caught his lips again. 

Carrying her, still intimately attached, Angelus brought her into the main room so they could dress. Or redress in his case. He watched for a moment as Buffy discarded her leather choices for a pair of linen pants and silk shirt. Nodding his approval, not that she saw or have even cared he was sure, Angelus went to his own closet, pulling out dark finely made slacks and another shirt to replace the one she had torn earlier. 

He watched as she combed her hair and wandered over to run his hands through the soft locks. Taking the brush from her, he continued her ministrations as she put her makeup on. It had taken Drusilla several days to explain the finer points of how to do that without a mirror, but Buffy refused to allow someone else to do it. Something about having others touch her. 

He couldn’t complain about that as he disliked the mere thought of it and, too, had a sudden thing about anyone other than Buffy touching him. He had discussed it with Giles before the younger vampire left and they came to the conclusion that it had to do with the Mating Ritual. Giles had agreed that it wasn’t a bad thing, just something they both needed to accept and, if warranted, overcome to a certain extent. 

Buffy finished and Angelus looked at her for signs she had missed anything. “Perfect,” he said and placed an opened mouth kiss her scar once before taking her hand and leading her out of the room.
**********  
Buffy licked the last droplets of blood off her lover’s lips, savoring both the taste of the crimson liquid and that of her dark lover. 

“Hmm, I think we’re going to be late,” she said, pulling back just enough to speak those words but not really caring enough to do something about it. Sure, the whole rule the world thing was great, but if given the choice she’d rather spend all her time with her mate. 

Ah, the simple things in life. 

“Yes, I know. But what’s the point of controlling so much territory and so many beings if you can’t make your own rules? It’s all part of the fun, my love.” 

They had hunted for several hours after Angelus’ conversation with Spike over Faith, finding that family Angelus had wanted and several pairs of lovers to sate their appetite for both blood and the delicious emotions that spiced it. But their responsibilities called and he wasn’t about to shirk them no matter how much he wanted to. 

“Come on, love, I’ll walk you to Paul’s before heading back.” 

Laughing at his overprotective streak, she could certainly take care of herself, Buffy wound her arm through his and walked with him the dozen or so blocks to the club. To the bystander they looked like any other couple out for an evening stroll, very much in love, aware of only each other.

While that was all very true on a number of levels, the couple was very much aware of their surroundings and the slight bows they received from more than one vamp. Okay, Buffy admitted as they rounded the corner, The Infinity in sight, so there were some major perks to being worshipped, it was really addictive. 

Just inside the doors, Angelus captured her mouth with his, branding her for all to see. 

Whispering into her ear, he said, “Don’t be too late, today begins Lilah’s new education.” 

Buffy smirked at him licking her lips in not only anticipation of watching him work, but in what would come afterwards. “Promise, love.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Drusilla accepted a great many things in her new life. 

Her daddy no longer wanted her, she was still the favored childe but without the rights and privileges that accompanied that title. Dru could live with that because she had a new mommy and even though the other vampiress was someone she had tried, on several occasions, to kill, Buffy had accepted Drusilla as one of her own, and that was enough for her. 

Her Spike was a changed vampire, no longer as hot headed as before and he had the stigma of helping the slayer, of falling in love with her, of having a soul and fighting in the end wars on the side of good. But she still loved him; he was her Spike, after all. 

But in the end, none of that mattered. She had her family back and though that was changed, it was as it was always meant to be. She couldn’t be happier. 

Willow was another story. 

There was only one problem with punishment for sleeping with her, Dru’s, mate; Drusilla found she actually liked the witch. Bizarre, true, but Dru wasn’t exactly one to ignore her feelings and Willow had given up all claims to Spike, which was just as well as Dru doubted Paul would tolerate that, either. 

She and the witch stood by the bar sipping the red wine the bartender had given them without their having to ask. 

“Right corner, tall, blonde, red shirt,” Willow said, continuing their game as they waited for Buffy. 

“George Sorosus, muscle for…Valldejuli, a minor – and I do mean minor – vampire pimp. He sells his whores,” Drusilla continued in her accented voice, the word ‘whore’ sounding incongruous with her appearance, as she rattled off facts about some of the patrons. “To the highest bidder, one of those who take money from humans to feed off them.” 

Shaking her head in disgust, Willow commented, “What is that all about? Have they no respect anymore? You kill the human; you don’t take their money. Unless,” she added with a sly smile, “It’s after the kill.” 

Drusilla laughed, agreeing with Willow. “Oh, mommy’s here.” 

Willow scanned the crowded room for her Sire but couldn’t spot her. She knew Buffy was here; there was that ever-present pull in her blood that told her so, but she couldn’t see her. But if Dru said she was here then it must be so. Willow wasn’t about to not believe anything the older vampiress said.

They walked to the front of the club to wait for Buffy. The crowd parting for them almost automatically and Willow smirked at those who lowered their eyes or bowed. There was definitely something to be said for ruling the city. The treatment was first rate.
~~~~~~~~~~
Dru watched as Angelus and Buffy parted at the entrance to The Infinity, waiting until her Sire was gone before approaching his mate. 

They were meeting with some of the many demons that were flocking to their banner. It was so fun and exciting, this rule. She got whatever she wanted, though she always had, except now it was almost as if she were the princess Spike had always called her. 

And if she were a princess, then the petite vampiress before her was a Queen…or maybe, Drusilla amended as the three of them walked through to the upper reaches of the club, Buffy was more a goddess. Though the music continued, everyone paused in what they were doing, if only for a moment, to bow to the former slayer. 

They went into the office down the hall from Paul’s and Buffy made herself at home in the cushioned chair behind the wide mahogany desk that were the room’s only amenities. Paintings of hell adorned the walls; bloody and brutal, they depicted everything that one would except should one have the misfortune to find themselves there and not in charge. 

Toga’sha, Paul’s personal guard, had stationed himself directly in front of the door. 

Willow and Drusilla stood, one to each side of her, and would continue to do so until any and all guests left. Only then would they make themselves comfortable on the desk, discussing the various petitions that wandered through. 

Moments before the first of the demons entered, Buffy wondered when their new castle would be completed. It was just so much easier to ‘meet’ supplicants from the comfort of one’s home. Angelus had shown her the plans for their new home and castle was the only word she could think of to describe such a building.

Shaking off thoughts of her future home, Buffy prepared to meet the latest in a long line of beings who wanted to pledge their allegiance to she and her mate in the hopes that they weren’t exterminated. Allegiance didn’t necessarily prevent that, but it was good to know who was willing to flock to their side and who was not.
~~~~~~~~~~
Whistling an old English drinking song through his teeth, Spike walked down the streets of LA with a fierce look in his eye.

Sometimes he really loved his job. He had gone to check a few things out, one of them being the location Willow and Paul’s minions had followed several old Initiative members to. 

It was exactly what they thought it was an abandoned warehouse and several miles of sewers and tunnels that was currently inhabited by the so-called good guys. Only now, they were referred to as rebels. 

Yes, sometimes he really loved his job. 

There was sure to be bloodshed, something he couldn’t get enough of now that he was rid of both chip and soul. Spike also no longer wondered why Angelus had gone slightly crazy all those years ago; a demon being buried under a conscience was a worse fate than death. 

Smiling as the tune ended and he started on another one; Spike rounded the corner and slammed straight into a tall scrawny and much younger vamp. 

Under normal circumstances this would have been nothing, the younger would bow – even if he hadn’t been a part of this new rule fledglings usually recognized masters and older vampires – and apologize, scampering off into the night without a backward glance. 

It was this schmuck’s poor luck that he was missing that brain cell. 

“Hey,” the fledgling said, arrogance in every line of his body, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going!” 

Spike’s good mood vanished, only to be replaced by annoyance. Teaching the twerp a good lesson, while most enjoyable, wasn’t on his agenda for the evening. He was scheduled to meet Buffy and Dru at Paul’s club. His Grand-Sire would be most displeased with him if Spike became sidetracked. 

Still, he wasn’t exactly one to let a challenge go past matter how much he’d admittedly changed. 

“You had better watch you mouth, boy,” Spike snarled, “It’s more than a matter of respecting your elders and keeping alive.” 

“Whatever,” the vamp said, trying to brush past him. “I haven’t the time for trash like you.” 

Now, granted, Spike wasn’t really one to espouse the virtues of Clan and Order membership. Most of his family had been rogue until several fun filled weeks ago, but he was a member of one of the oldest Orders and he was the Grand-childe of Angelus who had just taken over this measly town. 

“Trash? I can at least trace my lineage past my sire, whelp,” Spike said in a vampire’s version of ‘make fun of the mother’ schoolyard children were always shouting. Taking a deep breath not an inch from the irritated vamps neck Spike smirked.

“Do you even know who your Order is, boy? There’s a stench on you but it’s lower than low and I do have standards, after all. Who’s your Sire?” 

Straightening to his full height, which was about an inch or two above Spike, the vamp shot back with, “He’s the Master of Sunnydale, controls the Hellmouth, Trash, and you’d do well to remember it; he’ll take you apart in less than a human’s heartbeat…assuming there’s anything left once I’m through with you.” 

Spike let loose a laugh that caught the attention of several passerby’s who kept right on walking. “Sunnydale? Please, one, there’s nothing left of the town and two…? There’s a new master in town, buddy, and he doesn’t brook insolent whelps such as yourself.”

Pausing to look at the dark haired boy in front of him Spike drew back his fist and let loose a punch. Yeah, violence was so satisfying, who ever said it wasn’t? The younger vampire slammed into the alley, crashing into several conveniently placed trashcans there. 

“You know, there’s something almost familiar about you, let me think,” Spike said aloud as his foot connected with ribs once, twice, three times. “Let’s see, Master of Sunnydale. I’ve lived there a few years, hate the damn place, but still, I think I’d know if there was a master there and it wasn’t me.” 

Against the wall, punch, punch, trashcan into ribs, blood was spurting out of his nose and several rewarding crunches were heard from the rib area. “What’s your name, boy?” 

“Parker,” the bleeding vampire said through swollen lips as he tried to stand.

”Parker, hmm, Parker. No, doesn’t ring any bells. Let’s see, lived in SunnyHell all your life? Probably went to school there, too, maybe that was it, know any of the gang formerly known as the Scooby’s?” There wasn’t an answer, but then Spike didn’t expect one. “Hmm, Parker, no, not remembering that name though there’s something just the slightest familiar about you. Did I happen to eat any of your friends, family, frat boys?” 

Again, no answer as Parker was trying, desperately, to fight back. “Think, think, think, Spike, where do you know this piece of shit from?” 

“Hmm, okay, Parker,” Spike said as he lifted the slightly taller man into the air, vamp-face to the fore. “Let’s play a little game. It’s called word association. Ready?” Shaking him once for the fun of it, Spike began. 

“Angelus?” Nothing, “Drusilla?” Still nothing, “Hmm, Dalton, Darla, master – Nest, not your pathetic excuse for one, Luke?” Still nothing, he said a few more names, minions that worked for him and Dru at one time or another, but Parker just wasn’t cooperating. “Ooh, okay, maybe the white hats…or the white hats before they were not so shiny; ready?” 

Spike shook Parker once, just to make sure he was paying attention. “Okay, now then. First name to ring a bell let me know, right? Giles, Kendra, Faith, Willow, ah…no one cares about Xander, Cordelia, ah, ever wish for some vengeance, Anya? Oh, wait, she was always into avenging the wrongs of men, sorry…oh, how could I forget? Buffy?” 

Still nothing, damn. “Nothing, huh, well, and that’s a damn shame, because now I’m going to have to keep you alive until I figure it out. Just so you know,” Spike said as he dragged Parker out of the alley and the five blocks to his car, “That’s going to involve loads of pain and possible the removal of some limbs. Don’t worry, as a vampire you’ll survive. Lots longer than a human, too, it’ll be lots of fun, you’ll see.” 

On his way to the car Spike dug out his cell phone – as far as he was concerned technology was more evil than he was, but it was a convenient way to keep in touch – and called Buffy’s private number at The Infinity. 

Drusilla answered on the first ring and Spike grinned at the sound of her voice. “Princess, I’m going to be running a little late, found a cockroach that needs placement and I want to take him back to the house before coming to pick you guys up. Stay put, luv, don’t leave until I get there.” 

Listening to her murmur of agreement, Spike hit ‘End’ and shoved the phone back into his pocket, shoving Parker into the car as well. Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling through the gate to their house.

”Okay, new rules, mate,” Spike said, feeling like he was increasingly talking to himself as he grabbed Parker’s lapels and hauled him up the steps, through the foyer, past several rooms and into the wine cellar. 

“One, scream all you want, no one cares, two, you’re never getting out of here, so just forget it right now. Three, there are other guests in your room, so be nice, remember your manners, and introduce yourself.” 

Spike propelled the barely conscious vamp into a minion, shouting as he turned to leave at the underling to chain him up with the others. On his way back he spotted Angelus shaking hands with several vampires. Ah, must be the ones from…wherever, Spike didn’t know or care. 

“Hey, Sire,” Spike called as he made his way over to the darker man in a preemptive move so as to keep his head. “Just on my way to pick up our women, had to make a side trip back here; you were in Sunnydale a while, ever hear of a vamp named Parker?” 

Angelus’ eyes narrowed and flashed blood red for a second before he smiled. A smile that sent chills down even Spike’s spine. “Is that a yes?” 

“Parker? Maybe…go pick up Buffy and Dru, William,” Angelus said in a deceptively soft voice. That and Spike’s given name had the younger vamp realizing that this Parker lad was more than he originally thought. “When you get back you, Parker, and I will be having a little talk.” 

Spike nodded, heading back out the door. His Princess didn’t like being kept waiting and he was more than eager to see what Angelus had in store for the fledgling.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy looked up from her book, one Giles had recommended before he and Saffir had left. 

Angelus stood in their doorway just watching her. There was a splatter of blood on his chest but otherwise one couldn’t tell that he had just spent the last several hours torturing a boy she had once known – he wasn’t even worth mentioning as far as she was concerned. His eyes held a look she knew all too well, possessiveness, lust, need; Buffy muffled a moan of desire at that look. 

Stretching on her side, Buffy allowed her naked body to unfold along the bed in blatant invitation, closing the book and placing it on their nightstand. 

“You actually slept with that guy?” Her mate asked as he closed the door behind him and stalked towards her. She was perfect, only his scar marred her body, his ring on her finger, his emerald lay nestled betwixt her perfect breasts. Ah…she must have known, for his ruby chain lay around her slim waist, disappearing into her golden curls. 

She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Feeling herself grow more aroused at his predatory look, Buffy smiled, wanton lust visible in every pore of her body. “Poor substitute for you considering I barely remember him.” 

“Just poor?” 

“No substitute,” Buffy amended with a hiss of pleasure as he grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms taunt above her head. “There’s only you, love.” 

Angelus nodded, knowing this, of course, but willing to give his love a reminder; it was his right as mate, his duty, his…desire to show her that there was only him. Picking her up even as he crushed her lips in an aggressive kiss she wholeheartedly returned, Angelus carried her to their ‘play’ room.

Every sexual toy conceivable was stored there, several of his favorite torture devices, and a few of Buffy’s. Setting her on her feet, Angelus broke the kiss and ran his large hands down her cool body, eliciting a shiver of need as he did so. 

“Not tonight, my love, this isn’t about what you want, this is about what I do…”

And Buffy couldn’t help but shiver again at that statement.
~~~~~~~~~~
An hour before sunrise Spike wandered into the room he shared with Dru. She was sitting by the windows, laughing at whatever the stars there told her. 

“Dru, luv, what are you doing?” Spike was wired, energized from the several pleasurable hours he and Angelus had just spent reminding Parker. 

“The stars want to meet my Dawn, Spike; do you think she’ll like them?” 

“I’m sure she’ll love them, Dru.”

He hadn’t know, Spike admitted as Dru turned and smiled at him, hadn’t known that the child was a former lover – if such a word could be applied to a one night stand – and that Angelus wanted him dead. The fact that the boy was now a vampire only added to the fun as his screams never wavered – that whole lack of air was a gift – and he wouldn’t die for several long and pain filled days. 

“Where have you been, my Spike? I heard the most delicious sounds coming from below, do we have party guests?” 

“That we do, ducks,” Spike said as he unbuttoned her dress, pressing kisses to the exposed skin. “Knew Buffy a few years ago, screwed her, literally and figuratively. Thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place him. Angelus did, right away. He was having some fun. We both were, actually.” 

“Naughty, naughty Parker,” Drusilla said as she stepped out of her dress, facing Spike to begin on his clothes. Torture always made her lover needy and she was the perfect one to fulfill that hunger. “Doesn’t he know that only daddy can play with mummy?” 

Spike nodded, idly wondering why she was speaking like this tonight. Most times, she was sane enough to carry on a normal conversation…then again, for them, this was a normal conversation. Fusing his lips with hers, Spike walked her back to their bed, hands already roaming her pale flesh.

“Want me to tell you what we did to him, luv? Want me to tell you how he screamed when Angelus stabbed him with a hot poker, ripped Parker’s balls off with his bare hands, broke every rib – the ones I hadn’t already – and then started on the knees?” 

Dru moaned both from the description – she wasn’t the only one to get off on it – and from what his hands were doing to her. 

“Want me to tell you how he howled when I shoved a stake up his ass and flayed his back with the holly water dipped whip?” 

“Yes, my Spike, yes…”
~~~~~~~~~~
There was a difference that Dawn couldn’t quite place. 

It wasn’t that she could place much of anything, just that she felt different. Better, not more focused, just…better. She didn’t remember being in this room before several days ago, didn’t remember the woman who flitted about her like she was the most precious thing in her world, didn’t remember anything other than she was Dawn. 

At first this confused her, for she thought that the other woman meant she was the dawn as that was how she was referred to. But no, the man had laughed, a harsh sound that had scared Dawn and said that was her name, Dawn. Nodding meekly, Dawn cowered away from him, he smelled like stale cigarettes and alcohol and something less definable and was mean to her. 

But the woman who insisted she was Dawn’s mummy was nice, fun and pleasant and she told the most amazing stories. Stories of knights and legends, of a fairy princess who was rescued by her prince charming and lived happily ever after; the woman had laughed at that, saying that it was the literal forever sense, but Dawn merely nodded, accepting this as fact for it was all she knew. 

“Are you ready, my precious?” Drusilla asked as she floated into Dawn’s room. They had converted a portion of Giles and Saffir’s old room into one for Dawn, leaving enough space for the couple when they visited. 

“Yes, mummy, where are we going?”

Drusilla smiled at the child, so young and innocent, it was perfect, wasn’t it? To be able to mold the girl anyway she chose. But Dru resisted, knowing that they needed the child in some kind of coherent condition, her body unmarked and whole. When whole at least. 

“To the gardens, my sweet, to look at the stars.” 

Dawn took a step back, not out of fear from Drusilla – she was crazy and only knew that her ‘mummy’ took care of her, cared for her – but from fear of what was out there. She hadn’t left the house ever, so far as she could remember and Dawn was suddenly afraid of the unknown. 

“But-but it’s dark out there, mummy, and I-I-I’m afraid.” 

Cooing lightly to the girl, Drusilla stroked a gentle hand over her long hair, brushing the other one over her face, taking in all that fear and savoring it with a smile. “There’s nothing to fear, my precious Dawn, only the stars hold sway over you and they are so looking forward to meeting you.” 

Taking her hand Dru led her out of the room, one that had yet to be furnished for Dawn couldn’t decide on anything, and down the stairs. Walking out the back doors, they stopped for a moment as Dawn looked about her, the last rays from the sun falling harmlessly over the flowers. Enjoying her gasp of delight as much as she had Dawn’s cry of fear, Drusilla led her down the steps and onto the path. 

“Want to wander alone, Dawn? There’s nothing here to harm you, no one but the flowers and the sky, the stars and they sing with happiness that you’re finally here.” 

Dawn looked at her mother, her protector, her friend, and asked, “Come with me, please? I don’t want to get lost.” 

Dru laughed a tinkling sound that floated across the night. Taking Dawn’s hand once again she led her around the paths, stopping when the girl wanted to smell a still blossomed flower or to simply sit and stare into the night. 

At length Dawn asked, “Who are those people around the fence?” 

“Guards, my Dawn, they won’t hurt you, they just want to make sure that no one comes who isn’t invited.” Dru laughed at her wording before continuing. “There are mean people out there who want to break up our happy home, who want to take me away from you and who want to hurt my mummy and daddy.” 

Panicked, Dawn clutched Drusilla’s arm, “No, no, don’t leave me; I won’t let anyone take you away from me! Promise me you won’t ever go away.” 

“I promise you, my sweet Dawn, that I will never leave you. Wherever I go you shall be with me.” And it was the truth for she had given her word to Buffy that she’d watch over Dawn until they needed her, ensuring her safety above all other’s. 

Calmed, reassured, Dawn smiled again, looking around the gardens and feeling safe and at peace here. Spotting movement on a balcony she tilted her head, squinting her eyes to better see the faraway figures. 

“Who are they, mummy?” 

Drusilla looked sharply up, wondering who could possibly be there. Smiling when she saw Angelus and Buffy, Dru again took Dawn’s hand and led her back to the house. They had been outside for about two hours and Drusilla was starving.

“They are my mummy and daddy, sweeting. It’s their house where we live and those are the ones who gave you to me.”

Dawn nodded, feeling something deep inside her. But she wasn’t sure what it was, so closed off as it was, the scream, equal terror and longing, never reached her conscious. So she followed Dru back into the house, waiting while one of the servants prepared her dinner and then retired to her rooms. 

She was tired a lot of the time but didn’t know why. Her mother had said she was sick, that she was recovering from a long and horrible illness and that made sense to Dawn. So she ate her meal, preparing for bed as Dru watched. Tucking her under the sheets, soft cotton, Dawn again smiled at her aunt. 

“Good night, mummy,” she murmured as her eyes closed.

“Good night my dear,” Dru echoed as she shut the door, looking once at the minion who was to guard her precious charge this evening. 

“You know the rules,” she said, her voice hard, brooking no opposition. “No one but Buffy, Angelus, or I are to go in or out. Should one of the others wish, for some reason, to see the girl, get permission first. If something happens to her, death will be the least of your worries.”

The minion nodded, appropriately chastened and frightened, standing in front of the door, ready to protect the girl – and his life – until relieved.

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