Cordelia watched Connor enter the house and couldn’t believe her eyes. 

He had just voluntarily gone inside. He had switched allegiances and went into enemy camp. Walked into the lion’s den as it were. There were probably a thousand more clichés, but Cordelia didn’t want to think of them, they all amounted to the same thing; Connor had taken after his father, after all. 

Where was Xander when she needed a stupid comment designed to make you laugh and forget, if only for a moment, that things were dire indeed? Oh, that’s right…never mind. She had seen, over and over again how Xander had died; the torture, the pain, the taunting from both Buffy and Angelus. And finally, Buffy draining one of her (her former friend?) dearest friends. And Cordelia found that she was sorry for Xander’s death; go figure. 

But now she had other things to worry about – other than her obviously impending death – namely Connor voluntarily going into the house of horrors. 

Wait a minute…there was something to that. Why did that seem familiar? 

The visions. 

Whatever Willow had done to her hadn’t been solely of the past, it seemed; either that or The Powers had seen fit to add insult to injury and send her one if their own visions. And wouldn’t that be just like them, now when it was way too late. She had seen Connor, felt his conflict that struggle between the two halves of his soul. Damn it, why hadn’t she seen that sooner? 

Because she hadn’t cared, if she was honest with herself, hadn’t wanted to know that the boy was more than he let others see, hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that the son was more like the father than either wanted to admit. And laying out in the rising sun, naked and burned, her head pounding in an unending beat, there was nothing left to Cordelia Chase but honesty. 

He had given up that fight and embraced the darkness, it seemed. Though it was possible, Cordelia doubted that Buffy would have had such a…strangely maternal smile on her face had Connor been there to kill them all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Connor walked through the house, taking in everything, noting escape routes, exits, rooms, everything that seemed necessary to his survival. 

“You needn’t worry about escaping, Connor,” Buffy said with a smile. “If you want to leave, you’re more than welcomed to at any time. We won’t stop you.” 

His eyes slanted to hers, noting not the anger and hate he expected to see, but humor in the hazel depths. Somehow he had never associated demons and humor. Or, for that matter, allowing him free will in this matter. “You won’t?” He asked, suspicious, “Why not?” 

Laughing softly at him, she gestured taking in not only the room but the entire house. “We did not force you here, did we?” Connor shook his head no and Buffy went on. “Consider yourself our guest; stay as long as you like, do whatever you wish, but there is no killing here. Everyone in this house is under our protection, just as you are.” 

Her paused for a moment, looking to his father who had so far said nothing since the initial greeting, before nodding in agreement. 

Angelus studied his son, noting the changes in the boy since he had last seen him. Connor was thinner, paler, just as muscular as before, but there was a hungry look to him now, a wildness that hadn’t been present since his first days back on earth. 

“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat or drink?” He asked entwining his fingers with Buffy’s in an almost unconscious gesture. 

“I could go for some food,” Connor agreed slowly but his eyes never left their joined hands. “So you’re like married or something, now?” 

“Something like that,” his father said and brought his wife’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it in a romantic gesture. He eyed his son for a moment; Connor looked tired, there were heavy circles under his eyes and he swayed with exhaustion. Probably wouldn’t stay awake long enough to eat anything, Angelus thought before finishing his brief explanation. “We’re Joined, Connor, Bound Mates; it’s kind of like a wedding ceremony, but more, ah, binding.” 

“It’s forever, in the literal sense. Nothing can separate us, not even death,” Buffy added. 

“Right.”  That was a little odd, but Connor didn’t say anything. He had been brought up to believe that people married because they were in love. But if they were soulless creatures, then how could demons love? 

“The kitchen is this way,” Angelus said, pointing to the doorway down the hall where a stove was visible, “There’s food and drink; if you want something more, something we don’t have, just let us know and we’ll get it for you. We’ll show you to your room, now, let you rest. When you’re ready, you’ll know where to find us.” Angelus started climbing the stairs, still holding Buffy’s hand. Connor stared after them for a moment before following. 

He did not notice things like paintings and tapestries, but he spotted several floor to ceiling windows opened wide to allow the night air to blow through. As he followed the couple up the wide double staircase, he noted the height should he have to fall or jump, but failed to see the ornate chandelier that lighted his way or the antiques that were placed along the route. 

The room was fairly large, and Connor took a moment to look around. 

Angelus had had several minions clean it out a week ago, air it out and furnish it with a bed, dresser, and mirror. Connor’s room held the only mirror in the house but Angelus doubted his son would use it. 

“Feel free to do whatever you want with the room, it’s yours,” Buffy said, standing in the doorway as Connor looked around the spacious suite. She didn’t want him to feel threatened, so she didn’t enter. And wouldn’t until he invited her to do so. This was all about earning his trust and she intended to do so in as short a time as possible. 

The room – all three rooms, including a bathroom – was easily bigger than that warehouse loft he had stayed in his first year in LA, and he had thought that was spacious. The bed was large and made, a half dozen pillows covering the top. The second room held a closet with several shirts, pants, and shoes that he could see and an amour that was open and empty. A long couch took up most of the center along with several pieces of furniture he didn’t recognize. 

Connor had never needed a lot of clothes, there weren’t exactly a lot of clothing factories in Quar-toth and in LA one needed money to purchase things. He had stolen several items, and Angel had tried to get him shopping for more once but he had been resistant to the idea. Connor wasn’t sure if Angel had been relieved or not, his father didn’t strike him as the type to spend hours pouring over shirts. 

An entertainment center was set directly across from the bed; TV, DVD player, a stereo. There were no movies or musical selections, but somehow Connor couldn’t see himself watching television or listening to the radio; however stranger things have happened. 

“This is fine,” he acknowledged eventually. Turning back to the door where the couple still stood, Connor noted they didn’t enter. Manners, too, now who would have thought that? He got that it was a trust issue, but still couldn’t fault them. 

“Good. Buffy and I have some work to do, feel free to eat, rest, explore, anything you want,” Angelus nodded. “We’ll talk later.” 

Connor watched as they left, still holding hands, murmuring softly to each other. Even with his advanced hearing he couldn’t make out what they said. Hunger momentarily forgotten, he shut the door and flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

He needed to shower and could only guess that the bathroom was as large and spacious as the bedroom. He hadn’t seen anyone else in the house, but could feel them all the same. In fact his demon alarm was going wild. Maybe a hot shower – gods, when was the last time he had that? – and some food. 

And sleep. Could he sleep here with so many of the enemy in the same house? 

Yes, the answer was yes. He knew he could defend himself if need be and doubted that either Buffy or Angel…Angelus would allow any harm to come to him after all this; the room, the greeting, the allowing him to come to them. Safe? Not really, but Connor knew he wasn’t exactly in danger. 

As his thoughts whirled around in his head he showered, taking longer than he ever thought possible when he discovered there were four showerheads in the stall. A little embarrassed at such an indulgence, and that he had enjoyed it so much, he quickly exited the bathroom and curled, naked, under the soft and warm blankets. 

He was asleep in a minute.
~~~~~~~~~~
The moment they left Connor, Angelus ordered everyone assembled. 

Frankly he didn’t care that the sun was up and many of the minions were sleeping. Nor did he care that the rest of his family had responsibilities of their own. He wanted to make sure everyone knew not to bother his son.

His son. It was odd, but he wanted to smile every time he thought that. Apparently Angel wasn’t the only one with a sense of paternal pride; it transferred to the demon, too. 

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered in the ballroom, without preamble he began. “My son, Connor, has just arrived. He has free reign over the house and gardens and is to be treated with the same respect as you show Buffy and I. Any harm to come to him and you will answer directly to me. Any questions?” 

No one dared speak and were soon dismissed. The only ones to stay were, of course, their immediate family. 

Drusilla was the first to comment. “Our family is finally complete, the son has returned and the beginning is now.” 

Buffy looked at her mate’s childe and wondered if she spoke in cryptic sentences on purpose just to annoy everyone. Still, she couldn’t have agreed more. Connor was the last of their family and now there was nothing stopping them. 

Giles said nothing, merely studying his adopted daughter and sire. Personally he had no thoughts or feelings about he boy, but he knew that Buffy, as a human, had always wanted a child with Angel. It had been impossible, of course, and she knew and accepted that for the most part, but that hadn’t stopped the longing.

Now, it seemed that she had everything she had ever wanted. And while Giles wasn’t about to unconditionally accept Connor into their family immediately, he was willing, for Buffy’s sake, to give him a chance. Plus he was eager to see what the so-called Destroyer was capable of. 

Meeting Buffy’s eyes, he smiled at her, nodding once to signal his acceptance. She smiled back and returned to listening to Spike and Paul express their concerns.

It was understandable, Angelus thought, that Paul would be a bit apprehensive about allowing a human into their midst; one who was not only strong and capable of killing all of them but held so much anger inside his young body. Connor had never really been discrete when it came to expressing not only his hatred of all demons in general, but his father in particular. 

And Paul had seen Connor in action when the boy was wrecking havoc in LA, undeterred, undisciplined. Paul had legitimate reasons for being concerned. Spike, though, should know better than to question anything he, Angelus, decreed. 

Maybe he had been too lenient on his grandchilde. 

“Okay, Angelus,” Paul said finally, “I’ll trust you to keep your son in line and I’ll accept him as one of us. But I do feel that an eye must be kept on him. He isn’t exactly known for tolerating the demon community.” 

“I appreciate your concerns, Paul, and agree.” Angelus nodded adding silently, though it made Buffy smile, that his son wasn’t exactly known for tolerating anything he didn’t agree with. 

Spike added one last comment about not trusting the boy, but was silenced when Buffy turned to him and said, “One might make the same argument about you, Spike. You’re not exactly the most level headed creature among us…” 

She trailed off, but Spike knew what she was speaking of; his help against both Angelus and Drusilla when they tried to open Acathla, his switching of allegiances when the Initiative placed the chip in his head for food and protection, falling for Buffy and helping her fight the good fight – though Angelus was at least pleased one of his family was watching out for his mate, he had serious issues with the fact that Spike had thought himself in love with her. Not to mention generally vacillating between sides. 

Smirking at him, Buffy watched as everyone eventually filed out to complete their own jobs. She and Willow were supposed to go over the correspondence today and had a meeting with several powerful mages in a few hours; later this afternoon they were all strategizing their next big move. But for now she wanted time with her lover. 

Her lover, though, had other plans. 

“I’m going to finish Riley today, love, want to watch?” 

She was somewhat surprised at his words. Not that he wanted her there, but that Angelus, renowned for keeping his victims alive for days or weeks before allowing them to die, was going to finish off one he truly hated in a only a couple of days. 

“Why are you finishing with him so soon?” 

Shrugging, having anticipated this question, Angelus smiled and led her out of the room, towards the basement. “Oh, I’m sure he’d be lots of fun for several more tortuously enjoyable weeks, but I want to step up our plans. It’s time to stop looking towards the past and focus completely on the future. Besides, I want to show you the world. It’s not exactly the vacation you wanted, but it could be close.” 

Purring her approval, Buffy snaked an arm around him, pulling him close for a kiss before asking, “What did you have in mind, baby?” 

“We have to show all those not allied with us that we’re in charge; it is, quite simply, survival of the fittest. What better way to do so than to lead the fight ourselves? Giles will be in England for some time, I imagine and, depending on how we play this, I might just have him stay there, controlling that part of the world until we arrive. Willow and Paul are guarding the Hellmouth in his absence and I know Paul has no real ambitions for more power, but Spike and Drusilla...” He trailed off, not entirely sure what to do with his childer. 

“Take them with us or leave them to defend our backs?” Buffy guessed as they paused outside the door that lead to the wine cellar. The stairs were dimly lit casting her face in shadow, but Angelus could see just fine and traced her delicate jaw with a long finger. 

“Something like that. I trust them to do so, so far as trusting them goes, and I know that they want this as much as we do. They’d never be able to pull something like this off on their own, they haven’t the strength or the patience for it, but as for backstabbing…that I’m not entirely sure of.” 

He settled back against the far wall, pulling her closer and continued, “But I think it’d be better to leave them here with at least some measure of power. Maybe have Willow do a little spying just for updates, though I’m not entirely sure about that. I don’t want to undermine our family, but I need to know how far I can trust everyone.” 

Nodding in understanding, Buffy added, “Willow has Paul and, for the moment, seems content enough. I think she, too, is biding her time. Not for a take over of some sort, but to see what she’s going to get out of all of this. See how far she can test us before we snap back.”

”Hmm, yes, I agree.” Angelus paused a moment, then, “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. Ultimately it’ll be the two of us who rule the world, there’s no mistaking that. But it’s a big world and we’ll need people we can entrust in all corners of it. I just want to double check that this family isn’t going to be like so many before and implode for the sake of power.” 

Leaning back in the circle of his arms, Buffy looked for long moments at her mate. This was it then. Their last respite before the big push. They had but days before Giles and Saffir left for England, putting one more phase into action and giving him his own corner to control. Connor was with them and Buffy was confident that it was only a matter of time before he gave himself to them wholeheartedly. 

Still saying nothing, she brought her lips to his, tracing their fullness with her tongue before plunging into the cool cavern. Pulling back, smiling at his growl as she did so, Buffy whispered, “We have them, they’ve given their Blood Oath to us and have vowed before everyone that they will follow us for all time. As far as that’s concerned I think we’re fine.” 

Idly playing with his ring, she continued, “Openly they’d never do anything to defy us; no one has the kind of power and respect we command. Privately, though, you may be right. But at the moment we need them all and I’m not willing to let future maybe’s shake the foundation we’ve built here. Giles, I know, will follow me anywhere; he craves his own power, true, but ultimately he will bow to my wishes simply because he still feels I’m the daughter he never had.” 

The soft smile she had for her former watcher sent a small bolt of jealously through Angelus though he knew her childe wasn’t competition of any sort. Smoothing away the harsh frown with gentle fingertips, Buffy went on, “Willow will follow because that’s her personality. She’s always followed the strongest, and while she is one of the strongest now it’s engrained to follow me. And she knows that, despite the power she does wield, magickally and physically, she still isn’t a match for us. 

“As for Drusilla,” Buffy laughed. “She’s so happy to play with Dawn, have her Spike back, and belong again; I don’t feel we need worry about her, do you?” 

“No, you’re right; Drusilla always wanted a family, this family,” he clarified. “She couldn’t stop talking about it in Sunnydale, last time, and now…well, she did declare her fealty to you and that can never be revoked; now that I look back on it, I wonder if she didn’t do that solely for this reason. So we’d know that she has no designs on usurping our control.”

Fingering the chain that housed the emerald he had given her and brushing her bare skin in all too short strokes, Angelus nodded. “They’re our two biggest concerns, is what you’re saying, and we needn’t worry about them. I agree. Good, then, we can focus on Connor. And,” he added, standing fully upright and leading her to his intended victim with a smile, “Riley.”

Riley, for his part, was still strapped to the table. 

He was conscious, but wished fervently that that were not the case. Never, not in his entire life, had he experienced such agony. He was completely focused on his pain, his physical pain that was; Riley knew only that. He didn’t remember anything outside of that pain; not the wife he lost, not the mission and people he failed, not the fact that his ex-lover was currently the reason if not the direct cause of all this pain. 

So when Angelus and Buffy wandered back into the room, he never noticed. 

“Looks rather pathetic,” Buffy commented, slowly making her way around the table examining him. Pressing here and there on a mass of caved in flesh, she smirked when Riley whimpered. “Nice work, love. But he’s alive and conscious; still want to end his misery?” 

Coming up behind her, Angelus wrapped his arms about her waist and they watched as Riley turned his head towards them, tried to focus his pain glazed vision on them. “He tried to tell me,” Angelus said once Riley’s eyes had cleared somewhat and he was as cognizant as he was bound to be, “That you were going to leave me for Spike or some other vampire.” 

The laugh was sudden and bright, as if that were the funniest thing Buffy had ever in her life heard. “Leave you? When all I’ve ever wanted was you?” She leaned closer to Riley, making sure his attention was on her completely. “You stupid, foolish, boy. You never knew anything about me; leave Angelus…?” She laughed again, “Relationships, by their very nature, change, but there are some things that remain constant in this world.” 

She stepped closer to the broken body of a man she once dated but never truly loved and whispered into his undamaged ear. “We are that constant.” 

Angelus’ smirk was triumphant – not that he had been worried, but the boy’s words were irksome – the glitter in his eye sharp and callous. “Any last requests, Finn, before I put you out of all our misery? Confession; oh, wait, broke your jaw, can’t talk. Hmm, that’s out. Sex, cigarette, one last peak at the daylight?” 

Buffy stayed Angelus’ hand, telling him with her eyes, body, and their Joining link, what she wanted. She wanted Riley to witness what she was like when she actually enjoyed her partner, when she could be as free and uninhibited as she always wanted to be with him but couldn’t because only Angelus (and Angel) had ever sated all her needs. 

Hopping onto the table by Riley’s broken hip, Buffy spread her legs, hiking the long silk skirt up to her waist in blatant invitation. Angelus was on her in a second, his hands roaming her smooth skin, his fingers finding her core already ready for him. He brought her crashing over the first peak in moments but didn’t wait for her to come down before his talented fingers were inside her, raising her again. 

The second peak crashed over her and Angelus barely waited for her to calm before thrusting his rock hard cock into her welcoming haven. Shifting into his vampiric face, Angelus licked the raised tissue on her neck before sinking his fangs into the soft flesh. 

His name echoed about the cellar and the few remaining prisoners watched in rapt fascination as Buffy shouted her third orgasm. Magnificently evil, stunningly beautiful, they couldn’t tear their eyes away from the couple. 

When Angelus pulled out of her, kissing her lips once before straightening her skirt, Buffy turned to Riley. “You never stood a chance. A barely tolerated convenience that couldn’t handle the fact that his girlfriend was stronger, smarter, faster, than he was. And you could never understand why I never called out your name, could you, Riley? It was because I was biting my lip to prevent Angel’s name from escaping. Even then, Riley, it was never you.” 

Riley said nothing, damning them to a thousand hells with his eyes, wishing that he could spew the venom coated words he held within him. But he could do nothing. Nothing but lay there, impotent, broken, beaten. And, as Buffy watched with a sadistic glee in her eye and Angelus snapped his neck, refusing to even touch the blood of the boy who dared touch his mate, he lay there, dead. 

“Hmm,” Angelus frowned as the light went out of Riley’s eyes and Buffy’s small hand wandered over his chest, “Not what one would call a worthy adversary. Why ever did you fuck him, love? He can’t have been that good.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was just finishing the final touches on the alliance she planned on presenting the mages in a couple of hours when Connor found her. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, walking cautiously into the room, staying to the shadows. 

“Willow and I are meeting with some very powerful mages in a few hours; this is the alliance I plan on presenting them.” 

“Why ally with them, can’t you just take them over and be done with it?” 

Laughing, Buffy agreed, “Of course. But we’d prefer them to be on our side. It’s better to have allies than to have then entire world against you. Alliances are useful things; they allow you to do so much more than you’d normally be capable of. Not always pleasant, but mostly necessary.” 

“But you and…dad,” Connor stumbled over his father’s title but continued anyway, “Are stronger than them, right?” 

Tilting her head to the side, both to consider Connor’s question and in acknowledgement of the dad part, Buffy nodded. “To a point, yes. We have a great many followers who will do whatever we say, if that’s what you mean. And we control a lot of territory, but human and demon. But if you just take over, Connor, with no reward of those who serve you, then they’re bound to rebel sooner or later. No one will ever hold the type of power we possess, or intend on possessing once our plan is implemented, but those who follow us will be allowed a certain amount of autonomy.” 

“You mean you won’t kill them.” He stated and moved a little closer to Buffy’s desk. 

 She smiled at him, “Yes. It’s all part of the plan, Connor, one in which,” she continued, hoping that she wasn’t pushing too soon, “I hope you’ll play a role.” 

Connor said nothing, but looked at his father’s wife. No, mate, he had said, Bound Mates. What was that, exactly? Angelus had said it was something like a marriage, but for that, don’t you have to have a soul? Be in love? 

“You and my…father,” and again he paused before calling Angelus that, “Are married, then?” 

“Something like that, yes. It’s the vampiric equivalent; it essentially binds us together in every way imaginable.” 

“So if you’re married,” he continued, still having trouble with the concept, “Then are you in love with each other?” 

Buffy paused, wondering for a brief moment if Angelus would want it known, even to his son, that yes, he did indeed love her. Not that it wasn’t obvious; vampires didn’t Join unless that were the case, but… “Yes,” Buffy said going for the honesty route, “Very much so.” 

“But you don’t have souls.” It was more statement than question. 

“No,” Buffy laughed, “No we don’t. But we loved each other even when we did, as I’m sure you’ve heard.” 

“But if you don’t have souls,” Connor asked, choosing to ignore the fact that yes, he had heard all about Angel and Buffy’s romance “How can you love?” 

Switching tactics, Buffy asked her mate’s son, “Do you believe that animals have souls?” 

“What?” Connor asked, clearly confused at the change in topic. “No,” he answered defiantly, “They don’t.” 

“And yet there are animals that mate for life: Lions, swans, wolves, just to name a few. So if they, as you believe, have no souls, then what keeps them together?” 

“Instinct. Basic animal instinct. It’s a biological imperative and they go with it because they know nothing else.” But he could see where she was heading with this and wasn’t so sure of his words any more. Actually, he wasn’t so sure of anything anymore. 

“Is it? It may be an imperative, but humans have that same imperative. To find someone, marry them, settle into a life with them, and raise their children together. And instinct? I’ll agree with you on that one; it’s instinct to protect one’s mate, instinct to crave them, their presence.” 

“But they’re still animals…” 

“Perhaps, but they do mate for life, Connor, forever. And that, my dear child, is indeed the whole point.” 

Angelus walked in just then, not letting on that he had been listening at the door for several minutes. He knew Buffy could sense him but was somewhat surprised Connor hadn’t. 

“Love, have you finished the proposal?” He asked this with a nod and smile in Connor’s direction. The boy returned it, moving one more step closer to where Buffy still sat behind her desk. Leaning against the corner, Angelus read the proposal for the mages while Connor studied them. 

The endearment had surprised Connor, having never heard his father – in any incarnation – use one before. There was affection there, he couldn’t deny that, it was visible for all to see. Maybe there was truth to what Buffy had said that it was possible for vampires to love. Just as it was possible for humans who did possess a soul to hate and kill. 

“I don't want to become a vampire,” Connor said somewhat firmly, changing topics again.

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” Buffy agreed, looking up from her desk. It wasn’t that she had forgotten Connor was there, but she didn’t want to stare at him while he was staring at her and Angelus, trying to figure out just how two soulless creatures could love.

“Really?” Skeptical, dubious at that statement. He obviously didn’t believe her. They were all vampires, why would they let him stay human?

“Why would we make you do something you don't want to do?” His father asked, setting the paper down and giving his full attention to the boy. “Why would we push choices on you that we've resented in the past? Make you become something you don't want to because we feel it's for the best?” 

“We all have darkness within us, Connor,” Buffy added placing her hand in Angelus’ much larger one, “Some of us hide from it, burying it so far down that no one can see it and go through existence with only have of a life. Some embrace it, making it their only thought and feeling and goal. Others are caught between the light and the dark, not sure which way to go, people, friends, family, pulling them in too many directions and usually those directions are opposite from what the person truly wants.”

“It's up to you, Connor,” Angelus picked up, brushing his thumb over the back of Buffy’s hand. “If you want to stay here, you're more than welcomed. If you want to stay human then that's fine, too. As long as you don't try and change us, we won't try and…change you.”

Connor nodded, accepting this. And wondered if that would always be the case. Not that they would force vampirism on him…but that he’d always want to remain human, would someday wish to become a vampire.
**********
It looked the same. 

Not that Saffir had expected any differently, after all how much could a city change in a few short…decades? London still held the same smell, the same taste in the air she remembered. Well, the stench of fear was notably absent, but the last time she had been to the city had been in the midst of World War I so it was understandable. 

Fog clung to the buildings and floated low in the streets, enveloping everything in a quietness that was deceiving. The sun wasn’t set to rise for a few more hours yet but the city, as with all cities in this new century it seemed to Saffir, teemed with life of all kinds – human and demon. And carried the stench of recent death, too. 

Their plain had landed in Heathrow as scheduled around midnight, the limo was there waiting for them, and their new temporary home – a townhouse in the center of London that took over an entire block – had been opened for their arrival. 

But Rupert had been restless and wanted to hunt. 

Maybe it was being back, Saffir thought now as they stalked a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other heading home from a late night of clubbing. Back in the country where he had been, long ago, a member of the Watcher’s Council, one of the so-called good guys. Though he had told her that he had dabbled in the black arts for a time, Saffir doubted it was those memories that haunted him, now. 

They were here to destroy the very thing he had once held so dear; he was entitled to a little restlessness. Actually, it wasn’t that, the thought of killing every member of the council he could find, so much as he wanted to get started. Saffir had no idea what Rupert had been like before Buffy turned him but she and Willow had told her stories, both of Ripper and of the watcher. 

Perversely, knowing what he was like as a human had actually made her fall harder for him. Saffir wasn’t one to put stock in human emotions such as that, but eternal life was full of surprises so, for now, she simply went with what she felt. 

They closed in on the oblivious couple and caught them simultaneously. There was a struggle, of course, but it was brief and not really worth the scratch on her cheek from the momentarily feisty woman. Licking her lips, relishing the taste of passion laced fear in the blood, Saffir jumped on her lover. 

There was plenty of time for play now, before the work – and fun – began.
~~~~~~~~~~
Willow looked around her. 

Sunnydale looked much better now than it had when last she visited. Then again, the last time she had been on the Hellmouth had been to slaughter her parents, so she really hadn’t had any inclination to go sightseeing in her old hometown. 

Giles had done a lot in the short time he had been here. The rubble had been cleared, the streets cleaned of anything that could hamper his movements. The demon population was still at a minimum, but Willow wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. The more demons in town the greater chance there was of someone finding a way to open the Hellmouth. 

However unlikely that was, there was always the possibility. 

Now the house…the house was a different story. It really was on the scale of Versailles; long corridors that led to a dozen wings, sprawling across acres of land, and at least three stories high, the place was monstrous. It wasn’t finished, not nearly. Despite the fact that there were construction crews working around the clock, with a dwelling as large as this one, it was going to take more than a few months. 

But there were two main areas that were completed. Giles’ and Saffir’s living quarters, a grand suite that occupied an entire wing; and the room directly over the Hellmouth. That room was protected by at least a dozen wards not to mention booby traps and several armed guards. 

Impressive was actually too tame a word for so grand an establishment, but Willow loved it. 

She turned to Paul who was giving some last minute instructions to another childe of his, Ivan, if Willow remembered correctly. He had joined Paul several short weeks ago, having traveled from Georgia (the country, not the state) after hearing of Paul’s alliance with Angelus. 

Tracking his movements, Willow dismissed him as soon as he was out of her sight. Ivan seemed about as trustworthy as anyone; Paul used him for only special errands but obviously didn’t trust him to the extent he did Saffir. Willow wondered at that but decided to save it for later.

Tonight it was imperative they establish their presence. Giles had been gone only a day but Willow wanted no one to assume his leaving meant they had free reign. 

A slow smirk spread across her features as she thought of their night. Paul noted the look and returned it. It had been a while since he had had to actively show his authority in a town. This was going to be interesting if nothing else.
~~~~~~~~~~
Giles looked at the building that had once housed the Watcher’s Council. 

And laughed.

They had either fled or weren’t as stupid as he had always assumed. It was possible that both had occurred, but that didn’t change the fact that the once magnificent building was destroyed, both ritualistically and by what appeared to be explosives. Not stupid, then, they had taken every precaution. 

But that didn’t stop the fact that there were some things he knew that not even Quintin did. 

Like the fact that their alternate site was directly over an ancient fey power source line in southern Scotland. And that it put out as much energy as the Hellmouth. He had no idea why the coven that guarded the secondary home had never told the Council of its mystical surroundings, or why the Council hadn’t figured it out, but he knew the witches guarded that secret as surely as they did their magick. 

A quick few days here, then, scooping out the competition and quelling any who might rise up against him, Giles, and Buffy and Angelus’ ultimate authority, then off to Scotland. And the Watcher’s Council.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy looked down at the once beautiful woman still staked, spread eagle, to the ground. 

“Cordy, Cordy, Cordy…you really shouldn’t have come back to LA.” Her voice was mocking, spiteful in the extreme. “Not that we wouldn’t have killed you when we got to Russia, but you at least would have had a few more months before your death. It really is your own fault, you know. But I suppose that’s understandable.” 

Buffy crouched down and whispered to her former classmate, “You never were the bright one of the group.” 

She turned slightly, having felt Angelus walking towards her and stood, waiting for her lover to join her. They stood there, side by side, as Cordelia glared up at them. She had healed quite nicely in the few days since Willow’s magickal fire had burned most of her flesh. There would be scars, of that there was no doubt, but her skin was no longer flaking off in large chunks. 

“Someone had to stop the madness that is you,” Cordelia said, venom coating her words. 

Laughing, Angelus leaned down. “And you thought that it would be you? Have you learned nothing in the time you’ve spent fighting the forces of darkness? One, madness isn’t confined to evil, two, you could never stop us no matter who you had on your side or what you thought you could accomplish.” 

He straightened, resting a hand on the small of Buffy’s back making small circles on the bare skin found there. “And three, nothing can stop us, Cordelia, so you can stop hoping for the cavalry to ride to your rescue.” 

She said nothing but the hate in her eyes remained focused on the couple before her. 

“Now then,” Buffy said, crossing her arms over her scantly leather covered chest. “Here are your options. One, you can stay here, staked to the ground to die from lack of food and water, or two,” the smile widened. “You can leave. Now.” 

Buffy smirked at the look of surprise in the other woman’s eyes. Obviously Cordelia hadn’t been expecting that. By now the seer should know that predictability was not in their vocabulary and was about as possible as Cordelia actually winning the fight against Buffy and Angelus. 

“You’d let me go.” It wasn’t a question and Cordelia’s voice was flat, not believing a word that came out of either of their mouths. 

“Of course. What possible use do we have for you here? You’re boring, Cordy, your screams grate more than amuse and frankly, we have better things to do than toy with you.” 

Angelus smirked at his (Angel’s) one time lover. She certainly hadn’t been that good, but the soul had been immensely lonely and needed someone to stave off the isolation he had felt without his true mate. Plus, he had been spoiled with Buffy and nothing else quite compared. 

“You leave, when the sun rises if you wish, and go wherever you want. You’re free to go, Cordelia, it’s as simple as that.” 

It wasn’t, but that was half the fun. It was all part of the mind games he and Buffy loved so much. To taste freedom only to have it so cruelly ripped from her…now that was something worth seeing. 

“Okay,” Cordelia said slowly, mind frantically trying to find the catch in this little proposal. “Sunrise it is…” 

Nodding once, the couple turned and left her to ponder the possibilities.
~~~~~~~~~~
Even as a Watcher, Rupert Giles hadn’t really been one to follow the rules. 

He had ‘failed’ as Buffy’s watcher long before the Council’s test and Quintin’s subsequent firing of him. Buffy had friends to help her, a vampire lover to steady her, a mother to support and watch over the more mundane things in her life. And him, more a father than a coldhearted guide. 

He hadn’t cared then and the years had only fostered the hatred he felt towards the august body that had shaped so much of his life. 

But that rage was for the very near future. Let the Council record all he had done and was about to do, all that Angelus – one of the most vicious vampires ever to walk the planet and the only one still alive – and Buffy – the only slayer ever turned – had done and still were planning on doing. 

It would be their last recording of such events, but they should at least get it right. Posterity must know, after all. 

Giles was under no illusion that ‘good’ would simply die once they conquered the world, life didn’t work like that. They weren’t sending the world to hell, nor yet creating a new hell on this world. It was simply a…redefining of priorities. Humans would no longer be in charge of their world or their fate and evil would be the controlling majority. 

Still, Giles thought as he led the small army he had brought with him from Sunnydale– the only ones he had even a modicum of trust in – through the darkened London streets, that majority was never going to be overthrown or voted out. 

The early summer heat was just beginning to oppress the citizenry despite the breeze – such as it was – off the Thames. It did serve to keep most indoors, though, so the vampire population was out in full force, searching for the foolish. Several demon species who thrived in the heat and what they were doing in London was anyone’s guess, were present, but at the moment, of little consequence to Giles and Saffir. 

Didn’t matter, in the week they had been here, every faction had fallen beneath their heel. Some had pledged their oath to Angelus and Buffy, some had fought and, of course, died, and some had fled to the continent in the hopes of allying with other Clans or Orders against them. 

Saffir paused, causing Giles and the rest of their army to pause as well. There was something in the air that tingled along her spine. Whipping her head around, her eyes squinted into the night.

“I think we just found our prey,” she said with a smile at her lover. 

They were hunting the last of a faction from the Order of Axum. Axum was actually based in Atlanta, the new Master having migrated to the Americas several hundred years ago but there were, as with all Orders, several Clans and smaller factions around the world. 

Saffir was an excellent tracker, one of the best he, Giles, had ever encountered. So they followed her down the darkened alleyway to the next street over. Making a sudden left, Saffir halted in front on a nondescript door and motioned inside. 

“Pathetic,” she whispered directly into Giles’ ear so as not to alert their prey. “They honestly think that we wouldn’t find them? I’m thinking trap, of course, but I’m usually suspicious.”

Giles nodded, “There’s always a trap. Stupid as most vampires are, some are usually smart enough to cover their exit. Okay, then, the only way to really find out is to spring it. Ready?” 

The lovers looked at each other before kicking the door down, ducking out of the way of any stray arrows, stakes, or, less likely but still possible, flame throwers, before sprinting inside to survey the room. Nothing was noticeable at first sweep, but that usually meant nothing. Walking more cautiously into the room, Giles motioned a few more of his vamps to follow him, posting guards around the perimeter both inside and out. 

There was only one other door in the sparse fifteen by fifteen room so Giles sent one of his minions to check it out while he, ostensibly, checked with Saffir. 

The minion, Jack, opened the door and rolled inside, coming to a stand on the other side of the door.  Nothing happened to him so Giles, sword at the ready, followed, making a quick visual sweep around the smaller secondary room. There was a trapdoor in the floor. 

Nodding to Jack, Giles moved his eyes over the room again and again as the minion opened the trapdoor. A growl emanated from beneath them and Giles smile was predatory and gleeful. He needed a good fight, he was still feeling edgy and this last week hadn’t helped matters. 

Sword ready, face shifting, Rupert did something very un-Giles like and more Ripper-ish and jumped through the opening. Saffir, sighing at his actions but smiling nonetheless shook her head at her lover, silently promising him he needed to make this up to her, and followed. Why should he have all the fun? 

The trapdoor led to another room that led to the sewers. There were at least thirty vamps waiting for them. And none of them seemed happy to see them. With a roar that shook the ancient structures Giles attacked, sword swinging, fists flying. He had kept in shape since the battles and had worked out even more when Buffy had turned him.

He had a reputation to protect, after all, and didn’t wish to let himself go just because his body was never going to age. He felt Saffir join him, her own roar echoing through the tunnels as she swung her sword against the quickly diminishing enemy. 

The fight didn’t last long, Giles had a deep seated rage that wasn’t going to be sated until he had found, tortured, mutilated, and eventually killed Quintin Travers and looted all the secrets of the Watcher’s Council. And maybe fucked Saffir into the nearest solid surface. Surrounded by ash from the rogue vampires, Giles looked around him, golden eyes glowing in the dimness. 

Saffir laughed, a full bodied sound that drew her lover in like a moth to a flame, capturing his attention. 

“I haven’t had that much fun in ages, Rupert!” She told him, still chuckling. “I mean since I joined up with you guys it’s been more than interesting, but this,” she paused, captured his lips in a fierce kiss, “This is just beyond that. Though next time you feel the need to jump into a probable trap with a few dozen vampires waiting to stake your sexy ass, don’t look for me to save you.” 

Her lips captured his again and she moaned in pleasure as he shoved her violently against the curved damp wall. Gripping her hips and pulling her closer to him, Giles grinned. “Won’t save me, huh?” His elongated teeth scraped along her exposed collarbone, tongue licking the line of blood that welled there. 

Undoing the snaps to her pants and letting the loose material pool on the filthy ground, Giles growled his own pleasure as her quick hands undid his pants, pulling his erection free. With a single thrust he entered her, setting a fast pace that pleased them both.

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