1) Drusilla had sane days and she had crazy days. Anyone who messed with Drusilla on her crazy days had to be crazy themselves. Buffy was beginning to wonder if Willow was entirely right in the head…

2) Drusilla was always Spike’s top priority, whether at the expense of food, minions, or physical pleasure. And the best way to stay on Spike’s good side was just to accept this and work with it.

Now, Buffy wasn’t particularly fond of either of these points, but she figured she could learn to live with them. It was just that on nights like this, it seemed more trouble than it was worth.

She’d woken up that evening to discover that Spike had slipped right out from between her and Drusilla earlier. The elder vampiress remained unconscious even as Buffy dressed and headed out for the evening. She’d noticed that Drusilla was sleeping more and more lately, and she had some vague notion that her grandsire was ill. Beyond that, all pertinent details had been kept from her.

As she stepped out into the audience chamber, she was struck by how unsettled the various vampires resting there seemed. She’d become more and more aware her surroundings over the past few weeks. Sire and Food still preoccupied her demon ninety-percent of the time, but it was no longer a narrow, tunnel focus. 

And, while the other vampires outside their extended family group had never caught her attention before, now they were well-nigh impossible to miss. Nearly a dozen angry, yellow eyes zeroed in on her as she made her way hurriedly to the makeshift library where Spike currently spent most of his waking hours. A little shiver ran down her spine at the hatred and violence in some of those eyes. 

She’d been vaguely aware until now that Spike’s hostile takeover of the Sunnydale gang hadn’t met with universal approval, but she’d never seen the evidence before her very eyes. And, like all good hunters, they’d sensed a weakness in the enemy in the form of Drusilla’s illness and were just waiting to strike…

That little tickle of demonic knowledge in the back of her own consciousness added that she was a weakness as well, a liability. A childe still a fledgling and far too weak to fend off any attacks from the older minions…

She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she’d closed the door to the audience chamber behind her and met Spike’s eyes. He gave her a quick nod of recognition, but his attention was preoccupied by the books in front of him.

She wandered aimlessly about the room for a minute, impatient with all the research that had dominated their family’s time lately. Willow and Cordelia – whom Drusilla had proclaimed to be just as sweet as family just two weeks ago – both seemed equally bored. However, Spike had obviously ordered them to help with the searching. Funny how all the skills they’d acquired to help a slayer now were turned to the very opposite purpose.

They both seemed less than eager to research, however. Buffy smiled a fang-toothed smile when she saw Willow’s hand slip beneath Cordelia’s skirt under the table. The dark-haired vampiress let out a little yelp of surprise, and Willow flashed her a wicked grin in response.

Across the table from them, Dalton – a bookish vampire who had been (and probably technically still was) the official scribe of the Order of Aurelius – gave them a dark look before pushing his wire-rim glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and returning his yellowed eyes to the book before him.

He paid Buffy no heed, and neither did she he. Demon set upon one purpose, she sashayed across the room to slide behind where Spike sat at the end of the table, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “Good evening, lover,” she purred against his throat, tasting the salty skin there.

His lips quirked for a second as he turned to face her, and he caught her hand, guiding her easily into his lap. “Dru still sleepin’?” he inquired, thumb rubbing absentminded circles in her thigh.

She sighed. Always Dru first… “Didn’t even stir when I left,” she confirmed. One long finger played gently with the pale skin on his throat, grudgingly tracing the white scars that belonged to his sire. “I’m hungry,” she complained petulantly, squirming slightly in his lap.

He sat back wearily at that, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. She quickly batted it away and continued to massage his forehead herself. “Can’t afford to waste time runnin’ around and hunting for food,” he informed her tersely.

Willow and Cordelia had turned their attention to Spike at this conversation now, both as eager as Buffy was to leave the dull books behind. Dalton simply continued as he had been. He had long since grown accustomed to extensive research hours without the thrill of the hunt.

Buffy pouted at that. A combination of voices was bubbling up in her, wanting to beg him… Forget about Drusilla. I’ll take care of you, satisfy your every need, do your every bidding. Just come hunt with me. You don’t need her anymore. Let her go and make me yours, your mate, and I’ll be so good to you, baby… She knew such an impassioned plea would just drive her farther from her goal, however. And a whit of intelligence held by both her demon and human halves stayed her tongue.

“You need to feed,” she said simply. “Come on,” she purred, nuzzling his throat, “hunt with me…”

He bit back a weary sigh. “Sire comes first, pet, even for me.” He proceeded to lift her up off of his lap and set her down on her feet. “You go on without me.”

Buffy pouted at that. He hadn’t hunted with her in weeks now, and her demon practically cried out in pain that they’d gone so long without sharing the chase together, the kill, the wild passion as they joined in the blood of their latest victim…

“We haven’t hunted for three days, either,” Willow chimed in hopefully. She and Cordy were a bit more of a precarious position in their family. While Spike doted upon Buffy as his childe, the two other fledglings frequently caught the brunt of his nearly perpetual wrath. Not that Willow didn’t enjoy some of his punishments. She practically purred at some of the naughty things he’d inflicted upon her when she pushed him over the edge…

He had no time for punishments now, however. He gave Willow an irate look, then noticed that Cordelia had a similar wistful expression on her face. “Fine, then,” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “I’ll go, bring you all back some tasty treats for the evening.”

Willow’s face fell at that. “We can hunt for ourselves,” she insisted.

Dark blue eyes narrowed at her. “And I need every pair of eyes available to search these texts,” he countered matter-of-factly.

Willow saw the challenge in his eyes, realized it wasn’t going to be a fun punishment if she crossed him, and nodded meekly, turning back to her work. Beside her, Cordy pouted in silence but spared a brief squeeze to her sister’s thigh.

Buffy, however, couldn’t help but grin at this turn of events. “A fresh kill will do you good,” she encouraged him, sidling up against him. “Work out all that…tension…” Strong fingers kneaded into his back through the leather of his duster.

He sighed contentedly at that. “Take up where I left off, right, pet?” he requested. “Dalton’ll tell you what needs doin’ after that.”

She frowned. “I thought I was coming with you,” she began, confused.

“Can’t afford to indulge right now,” he corrected, gesturing for her to sit down at the research table.

She pouted at that. “Don’t you want me to come with you so that we can—?”

“I said, sit!” he snapped irritably, eyes flashing yellow and arm striking out to push her away from him.

Wide-eyed shock flashed through her eyes before an angry sullenness snuck over her. “Whatever you say, sire,” she spat indignantly before stalking purposefully over to the chair he had vacated.

His eyes narrowed at her, and a low growl rumbled through his chest. Impudent little girl, thought she could get away with acting all haughty… “Remember your place, childe,” he retorted coldly, the gold sparks swirling in the depths of his eyes indicating all too clearly that she would be thoroughly punished when she got back. “I’ve no time for your disobedience now…” And, with an angry slam of the door, he was gone.

Buffy gulped. Perhaps ironically – since he had been the one to kill her, after all – she had never been afraid of him before, not even when she’d been the slayer. But now… She could practically feel her blood run cold, and the angry demon within her remembered only too late that he was old and powerful, and she was young and weak, and he held all the power over her. She’d merely been fortunate up until this point that he’d found no reason to treat her as anything less than a favored lover. Now, though…

“Someone’s in trouble,” Willow sing-songed with an evil grin…

He couldn’t stand seeing her like this. It was like a cruelest of jokes. For a few short days, it had seemed like the slayer’s blood had worked and his dark angel was back to normal. But it had just been a short reprieve, and now she was worse than ever.

Spike sat softly on the edge of the bed and cautiously brushed back a few ebony locks that clung to her sweat-soaked forehead. Right unnatural, that, for a vampire to be fevered like this. She didn’t stir at his touch, and were it not for the fact that she wasn’t dust, he would’ve feared that he was already too late. It was very rare that she woke at all anymore.

“I-I’ll find a way to save you, my love,” his whispered into the dark of their bedroom, his voice ragged. “I promise.”

He received no response to his impassioned plea, and his demon raged within. He knew how to fight, kill, rip, shred, claw, and bleed. Knew how to eviscerate any physical foe that would ever dare harm his wicked girl. But, to be so helpless against something so ephemeral as a magical illness…

Face vamping out, he smashed his fist hard into the wall, shattering the plaster there and sending chalk-white shards flying through the air. The pain in his fist wasn’t enough to overcome the internal one, however, and his demon howled in agony.

The sound drew a soft murmur from Drusilla, and she rolled over onto her side, as if sensing her mate’s closeness and moving towards him.

He bit down his fury and forced himself calm. After all, he didn’t want to wake her when she needed rest. “You just need a bit to eat, ‘d wager.” He knew it was a lie, but little lies spoken out loud were all he had until that supposed genius Dalton got his head out of his arse and found a way to translate that cure of hers from those books. “It’ll be all right, luv,” he soothed with a gentleness that belied the raging war of emotion within him.

One quick kiss to her brow, and he was out the door. Bringing in food wasn’t much, but it was all he could do right now…

“Oh, shut up!” Buffy exclaimed, giving Willow a furious look.

The other vampiress merely grinned. “Daddy loves Mommy,” she teased, swirling a long crimson lock around one finger. “Silly little girl thinks she can lure him away…”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not Dru,” she retorted smugly, “and you’ll never be Dru. You’re not fooling anyone with that fake childlike loon act, so knock it off.”

“And you think you’ll be Mommy one day?” Willow couldn’t help but add snidely.

Buffy seethed inwardly, all too aware of Cordelia’s curious eyes on the both of them. “Watch your mouth,” she snapped, flipping angrily through the pages of the book before her. Her violent actions earned her a pointed cough from Dalton, and yellow eyes narrowed at him.

Willow didn’t seem to want to let the point pass, however. “You’re not the slayer anymore,” she shot back. “Can’t use those superpowers to hoard over us now. In fact, you’re no stronger than we are…and certainly not as strong as the two of us put together…” She gave Cordelia a pointed look.

The dark-haired vampiress frowned, obviously not having intended to become involved in this argument.

A low growl grumbled through the back of Buffy’s throat. “You wanna try me?” she challenged, standing up. “I’ve still got all those years of training over you…”

Willow rose as well. “No need to get so angry,” she laughed it off, giving Buffy the most insincere smile she’d ever seen. With a little swagger, the redhead approached her. “I’m just pointing out the obvious, really,” she clarified.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Willow warily. “And what’s that?” she shot back defensively.

“That you,” Willow reached her, and the tips of her fingers trailed up and down Buffy’s arm in a sensual caress, “really belong with us, not your sires.” She leaned in so close Buffy could feel the cool breath against her lips. “We’re sisters, the three of us,” Willow concluded. “It’s silly to think Dru and Spike will take you in as one of theirs, that Spike will ever…” she chuckled ruefully, “love you when he loves Drusilla.” One ghostly pale, spider-like finger reached out to stroke Buffy’s cheek. “We used to be such good friends…” she practically purred, a light of lust and power flashing deep in the back of her eyes.

For an instant, Buffy was entranced. The redhead’s sensual motions made her want to do nothing more than to tackle her back onto the table and make Willow scream in pleasure and pain beneath her…

And then she snapped to and shoved Willow aside roughly. “I am his childe,” she countered arrogantly. “And you two…”

Willow snarled in anger, and Cordelia rose as well at the implications.

Dalton blinked up with a weary sigh and strategically moved several of the books out of the path of imminent destruction. Oh, Spike wouldn’t be pleased about this, and he was only too certain he would bear the brunt of the master’s wrath. But he wasn’t fool enough to step in between this latest struggle for dominance.

Fortunately for him – and unfortunately for the three vampiresses – it never came to that.

“Where’s Spike?” an angry voice demanded from the door. The way he pronounced that name made his distaste for their latest leader all too clear.

Buffy snapped her attention to the door at that, noticing for the first time the dozen or so minions that had spilled in from the entrance hallway. She frowned at that. Of course, they must have seen Spike leave. “He’s gone out,” she countered, “and you don’t have permission to be here.”

“Ooh…California Bimbo says we don’t have permission,” one of the younger males snickered.

The leader of the little gang – a forty-year-old minion named Jared, if Buffy recalled correctly – snapped at him to shut up. “We demanded to see Spike,” he insisted, words slurred through his extended fangs.

Willow snickered at this, alliance suddenly shifted in face of the newcomers. “What part of ‘he’s gone out’ don’t you understand?” she retorted sarcastically. “Shall we say it more slowly so that you can keep up?”

Jared growled at that and took another step into the room. “The traitor Angelus kills more of us every night, and Spike does nothing to stop him. He won’t even give us audience.”

“Maybe that’s because your problems are boring,” Buffy countered with a yawn.

Cordelia let out a bark of laughter at that, her eyes gleaming like liquid gold in the dim candlelight. “I suggest you little boys leave, unless you want to end up dust when Spike returns,” she added haughtily. “Or do you need the three of us to protect you from the big, bad Angelus?”

A delighted little giggle escaped Willow’s lips as well. “Silly puppies can’t even cut their own food,” she added, head cocked to one side and a deranged look in her eye.

“Watch your tongue, bitch,” another of the intruders spat. This one had shaggy brown hair that hung half over his eyes. Ivan, Dalton had provided later.

“Ooh, semi-harsh language from the peanut gallery,” Cordelia countered, looking decidedly bored with this turn of events. “Are you going to shut up and go away now, or are we going to have trouble?”

There were several murmurs in the crowd at that. No one liked being talked down to by the three youngest vampires in the gang, but crossing these three would be an act of defiance against Spike’s authority, sure to bring them the harshest of punishments.

Jared, at least, seemed to understand the wisdom of a hasty retreat, even though his demon rebelled against it. With an angry spit to the ground at Buffy’s feet, he spun on his heels and walked out, taking several of his closest friends with him.

However, the younger, more foolish vamps didn’t move. And chief among these was Ivan. The door slammed shut with finality behind Jared, leaving six intruding vampires still in the makeshift library.

With a wicked grin, Ivan sauntered further into the room, clawed fingers tapping pointedly on the table. “You want me to leave?” he countered smugly. “Then make me.”

Buffy stepped forward and snarled at that, fist aimed for his jaw, but her arm was caught at the last minute by a huge, bulking minion that must’ve once been a linebacker.

Cordelia leapt at the six-plus-foot vamp at that, nails raking painfully into the side of his face. He released Buffy with a yelp, and Buffy took the opportunity to lunge at Ivan.

Willow blinked as an all-out war seemed to have broken out before her before a delighted grin lit up her face and she leapt into the fray with a jubilant cry, tackling a scrawny vampire a full two decades her elder and trying to force the razor’s tips of her thumbnails into his eye-sockets.

Cordelia, however, didn’t have the element of fear or surprise on her side. The bulking brute she’d attacked was furious now and backhanded her violently across the jaw. She slumped against the table in response, sending parchments skittering across the floor. In an instant, her assailant was atop her, holding her down and prying her knees apart.

Dalton let out a yelp of horror and quickly dove to retrieve the sacred documents. No one interfered with his work. After all, the role of the scribe was untouchable to internal political struggles within a vampire clan. He had to duck and dodge to avoid taking extraneous hits from the fighters who were unaware of his presence, however.

Buffy neatly tripped over him as a strong kick to the gut sent her sprawling back to the floor. He quickly untangled himself and dove under the table, but the distraction had kept Buffy off balance long enough that Ivan and a beefy stout vamp with greasy black hair that was only a year her elder had all the time they needed to pin her effectively onto the floor. Beefy-and-greasy promptly sat himself down right in the center of her back, and despite all her wild flails and kicks, she couldn’t knock him off.

“Well, look at what we have here,” Ivan said snidely, catching her chin roughly and forcing her to look at him. “If it isn’t Spike’s haughty little childe herself.”

“Pretty little thing,” Beefy-and-greasy said from where his still sat atop her. Her constant squirming was making him painfully hard. A fact which only caused Buffy to struggle further.

“Oh yes,” Ivan agreed before leaning in and running his long, thick tongue across her cheek possessively.

She shuddered in disgust and turned her head away. Vaguely, she heard sounds of Cordelia whimpering in pain as the giant vamp plowed into her and, while Willow still seemed to be putting up a frenzied struggle, she now had three furious and lustful male vampires to contend with. They toyed with her, groping and slashing, and she screeched like a wild woman in protest. No help from any of those quarters, then…

“That’s right, you little slut,” Ivan spat. “No one to save you now. See how weak you are without your daddy’s protection.” He spat at the word ‘daddy’.

Buffy merely growled, and her eyes flashed gold.

“I think she wants to be taught a lesson,” Beefy-and-greasy giggled giddily, giving her ass a quick squeeze.

“Why don’t you give it to her, then?” Ivan inquired coldly.

Beefy-and-greasy practically clapped with glee and ripped at her skirts, pushing them up around her waist. She ceased her struggles beneath him once she realized there was no point; she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of fighting or begging. And – when he finally thrust into her rear entrance, lube-free – she fought back tears and screams as well. She simply fixed Ivan with icy, deadly eyes the entire time.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Beefy-and greasy grunted from behind her. “You should have a go at her next.”

Ivan seemed disinterested in this, however. His eyes locked with hers, and he slowly lowered his hand to the waist of his jeans, opening up his fly and pulling out his straining cock. Watching her still and helpless against the assault, he began to stroke himself before her.

Inwardly, Buffy seethed. She was confidant she was bleeding, but the pain didn’t register, nor did any pleasure. Her body simply felt nothing, while her demon consumed her with cold-hearted rage. How DARE these mere minions touch the childe of a master? When Spike gets his hands on them… Her demon shook that thought off, rage now honed to a narrow pinpoint focus. No. When I get my hands on them, I’ll make them scream and bleed in agony, rip their flesh to shreds, ruin them for eternity so that they can never find pleasure in touch again… 

Her lips turned upward with a wicked smile at Ivan, and for one second he faltered. Then, he grinned as well. “Bitch likes getting fucked up the ass like the little whore she is,” he exclaimed in triumph, his pleasure overcoming him at that. He squirted his seed onto her face, marking his victory over her. Behind her, Beefy-and-greasy’s excitement increased, and his thrusts turned rougher.

Never to culminate, however.

“Are we interrupting something?” a cool and powerful female voice sounded throughout the library.

Instantly, the conquering group of males stilled in their actions. Beefy-and-greasy practically whimpered in protest when Ivan gestured for him to pull out of Buffy so that they could make their getaway.

From the doorway, Sayo watched the six rebellious male vampires with contempt. The eldest of them wasn’t even a quarter of a century, yet these fools dared to challenge Spike in such a way? Her eyes narrowed on Ivan as the eldest of the attackers.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, gesturing to the rest of his gang to follow his motions. Sayo had defeated him brutally in a struggle for dominance between them less than two years ago, and he had just now fully recovered his strength now. He didn’t want to face off with her again so soon, especially not with her mate present. That put Spike’s forces with nearly even numbers to his, and he knew better than to fight with even odds.

Sayo saw that the three young vampiresses were all weakened and didn’t bother to challenge the filthy traitors as they filed out of the library, however. She knew better than to pick a fight with her allies in such a defeated state.

With a farewell pat to Buffy’s cheek, Ivan followed the last of his friends out. “Next time Spike fucks you,” he gloated, “see my face…if he’ll even touch a little used bitch like you now…”

She snarled at him and struck out with one clawed hand, but he was out of reach and gone by then. Fury boiled through her veins as she yanked her skirt back down and wiped her face clean, rising shakily to her feet.

Around the room, Willow and Cordelia followed similar motions, although Willow’s clothes seemed to be completely ripped to shreds. Bleeding fang marks dotted her breasts and inner thighs.

And, at that moment, as the three vampiresses watched each other recover, a shared bloody promise passed between them: They’ll all die in the most painful way possible for what they’ve done to us…

Buffy was so jumpy, she slashed out without thought when she heard someone step into the shower behind her. A powerful hand caught her wrist, however, before she could do any damage. For a moment she just stood there, frightened once more, before ever so slowly, Spike slid his arms around her and began tracing soft kisses up and down her collarbone.

She sighed in audible relief and clung to him, letting out little whimpering mewls against his wet flesh. The one thing that had truly terrified her about the attack that evening was that he would find her tainted now. But, from the way he was caressing her – so gently and unlike the usual wild passion that accompanied their mating – she knew that all was still well with her world. Unless…

“You heard?” she was practically afraid to ask.

He nodded, blue eyes boring into hers, capturing her in their fiery intensity before he leaned in to kiss her. She moaned aloud at the taste of him on her lips once more, the scent of his body as he surrounded her. That had been horrible – those few hours when the scent of Ivan’s gang had obscured her sire’s musky aroma. She’d even found Drusilla’s scent strangely comforting when she returned to their rooms.

“Buffy…” he pleaded against her ear, teeth nibbling at her. “Just tell me who, luv. ‘ll make sure burnin’ in hell seems like a walk in park after I’m through with them…”

She sighed and leaned against him. “You’re not mad?” she asked warily. Off of his frown, she clarified. “About my disobedience earlier?”

He chuckled ruefully at that. “So busy worryin’ about one of my girls that I wasn’t even there to protect the other.” He brushed aside several locks of wet gold from her forehead and pressed a kiss to her brow.

She practically purred. She should’ve known her sire would make it all better, take care of everything for her and… She paused.

“Tell me who,” he pressed. “Let me make it up to you. Show those wankers that no one touches you but me.”

Oh, it was an enticing promise. One that she was all too tempted to accept. But a deep part of her demon railed against it, whispering of her own vengeance in the back of her mind. “No,” she shook her head.

He frowned at that. “No?” he questioned, one eyebrow quirked accusingly.

She leaned in to lick the hot droplets of shower water from his chest as they fell. “They already fear you,” she pointed out. “If you kill these, it won’t change anything. They still won’t fear me. And it’s only a matter of time before someone else tries to take advantage of me, to use me as your weakness…” She nuzzled his cheek affectionately before looking him right in the eyes. “Let me kill them,” she pleaded. “I-I haven’t asked for much, but…” Let me have my revenge. Give me reign to begin a bloodbath so terrifying that none will dare touch me again. Let me become a vampire to be feared, just as you are. Perhaps even an equal, some day…

He thought on that for a minute, and for a second she was afraid he would refuse. Then, that wicked irascible smirk curled up the edges of his lips. “My girl’s gonna make the world bleed,” he whispered fondly.

She sighed against him. “Make them regret even thinking they can cross me,” she concluded. “Make sure this never happens again…”

His expression turned serious at that. “Swear that every time,” he advised her, “but don’t be too surprised if you can’t hold yourself to it during these first few years…”

She frowned and looked up at him, but his face remained impassive, usually open eyes closed off to her for the moment. It sounded as if he spoke from experience, however. And for a vampire of his age to even hint at something so private to a childe as young as she… “I love you,” she assured him, catching his face between her hands and kissing him fervently.

His tongue tangled with hers, fangs extending and nicking them both so that their blood mingled in the union of their mouths. “Anything you need from me, kitten,” he swore, moving down to her throat.

Coyly, she pushed him away before turning her back on him. She bent over and gripped the towel rack with both hands, waggling her bare ass at him playfully. “Erase the memory of those wankers from me,” she requested, looking back at him with a wink.

He growled in approval at her intentional use of his terminology and proceeded to accede to her request, taking her hard and fast, over and over and over again until the water had run cold, but neither of them cared, and then again one more time after that just to make sure.

And the entire time, Buffy remembered her attacker’s final words and did imagine his face, but twisted up in pain and horror as she and Spike made love in his torn remains. That insignificant fool would pay the price for trying to break her. Oh yes, her revenge would be sweet, indeed…