Buffy was convinced they were the longest wait of both her life and her unlife. Spike paced frantically, checking the large wall-clock every few seconds, and she was starting to feel dizzy from watching him. Across from her, Willow dangled her feet innocently over the edge of the table, eagerly awaiting the hour in which their mother would be restored to them. Xander and Cordelia were sleeping again in the bedroom. And Drusilla still hadn’t emerged from the spare room, but every so often muffled cries could be heard. Spike obviously didn’t like the thought that his woman was torturing another man.

Buffy wanted to be sympathetic, but she was too pissed at him right now. She had been less than pleased to learn that Spike had assigned her to stay behind while the rest of their group, save only Cordelia and Xander, went with him to participate in the ritual. Willow had been sending Buffy psychic little gloats for hours now, and Buffy was about ready to rip the redhead’s head off.

She was quite worried, however. Had Spike, perhaps, sensed that she wasn’t so eager to have Drusilla restored to them? He had to know that she wanted him all to herself, and Drusilla was the most serious roadblock to that plan. Did he suspect that she’d sabotage the ritual? Would she sabotage the ritual if she’d had the chance?

Buffy found herself surprisingly indecisive about that point. Any anger she felt toward Drusilla was simply her own fear about what would happen to her once her sire had his mate back. She felt a sort of bond with Dru – as was natural given that she was the vampiress’ grandchilde – but she didn’t entirely trust her, either. After all, Dru had urged Spike to sire her under the presumption that Dru’s own days were numbered. If she survived, would she tolerate Buffy’s continued presence?

Willow, obviously, hoped the answer was no. And Buffy had to admit that that option would leave her between a rock and a hard place. She would have to find some other allies if Spike and Dru went their separate way. She didn’t delude herself that she was powerful enough to stand on her own. Martial arts training did her a bit of good, but virtually all the other clan members were older than she was.

So, allies then. And, really, Willow was her only viable option in this situation. Willow had been very carefully building up a circle of support around her leadership. Most of the clan was terrified of her, and those that weren’t picked up on her increasing number of supporters. With Spike and Drusilla gone, Buffy had no doubt that Willow would fast become a power in the Hellmouth struggle.

Spike’s impatient sigh brought her attention back to the present. The clock read seven-thirty now. The sun was certainly low enough for them to move out. Spike’s plan entailed waiting until the last moment to prevent any interruptions by what remained of the Scoobies. But that plan was likely to last as long as any of his others.

He resumed pacing for a few more steps before he finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Dalton,” he snapped at the scribe, “prepare the spell ingredients. I want to get to the church as soon as possible.”

Dalton scrabbled at his instructions, and Willow got up to help him. Buffy alone remained in the makeshift library, nibbling nervously on her lower lip and pondering her future…

Drusilla hummed an ancient tune to herself as she seemed to glide across the room on feather-light feet. She stopped in front of the box she’d had Spike bring in from her room and ran one hand across the lid, tracing the elegant wooden carvings that shaped out the words ‘Holy Water’. She cradled the small crystal pitcher from within in her hands before turning back to her prey.

A little groan escaped Angel’s split and parched lips as he saw her approach, and she tisked him softly for his lack of enthusiasm. His wrists were bound high above his head, however, and he was helpless to her mad whims.

“The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch…” she commented dreamily, black eyes intent on the sire she’d lived in terror of for so long. “My mummy ate lemons,” she informed him, a cold harsh sanity lighting her eyes for an instant. And then that deranged glee returned to her features. “Raw.” She let out a little growl to emphasize her point.

With a dancer’s grace, she knelt in front of him. He turned away pointedly, determined not to scream this time. It was a game they had played over and over all day. She would whisper horrors of his past crimes before inflicting equal physical agony upon him in exchange for the ravages he had forced upon her mind. But, even as his soul begged for forgiveness, his rational mind insisted this wasn’t the same innocent Angelus had corrupted. And he refused to give in to this monster’s tortures.

A distant look entered Dru’s eyes as she tried to recall her memories of her mother. “She said she loved the way they made her mouth…tingle.” One falsely-seductive hand ran up his bare chest. “Little Anne…”

Horrifying visions of her mother screaming and twisted in agony flashed through her mind. Angelus’ dark and wicked eyes as he branded her… With an angry hiss, Dru splashed the holy water onto his chest. Instantly, hot steam rose from the wound as it sizzled like acid.

Angel’s head jerked in pain, but he managed to stop the scream from escaping his lips.

For some reason, his agony seemed to soothe Drusilla’s mind. Finally making that wicked monster pay for what he did to me… The thought sounded strangely as though it had come from the child she had once been. She shook the notion off and got back into her role. “Her favorite was custard,” she informed Angel matter-of-factly, “brandied pears…”

A deep pain sunk into his chest worse than anything the holy water could do. An agonized and apologetic gasp escaped his lips, “Dru…”

She would have none of it, however. It was time this matter was buried once and for all. “Shh!” she snapped sternly, rising to her feet. “And pomegranates,” she continued her speech, crawling onto the bed behind Angel. “They used to make her face and fingers aaall red…”

With an angry hiss she sloshed more of the holy water onto his chest. Angel gritted his teeth, fighting back tears, but he won the battle not to scream.

“Remember? Hmm?” she demanded harshly and angrily. “Little fingers, little hands. Do you?”

Angel shivered convulsively. “If I could…” he began to plead.

“Bite your tongue!” With a violent screech, she slashed out at his cheek, leaving four red furrows upon the flesh in her wake. She could still see her loved ones screaming in agony in her mind’s eye, while Angelus just fixed her with that wicked, relentless look. The one that told her that no matter how far she ran, how many years she fled, whatever she had become, he’d still come after her, ready to make her life a living hell. “Th-They used to eat cake, and eggs, and honey,” she spat out, terrified to find that tears were building at the corners of her eyes. A deep breath, and she composed herself, her voice and countenance turning eerily dulcet once more. “Until you came and ripped their throats out…”

With that note of finality, she poured the rest of the holy water onto his chest, and Angel screamed out loud in agony. She savored her sweet moment of revenge. For once she had the power, and Angelus was helpless and at her mercy.

She paced maniacally before him, turning angry eyes on him with each question. “Did you enjoy torturing and tormenting me all those years?” she demanded. “Did you like making your ‘sweet little girl’ fawn over you? Did you laugh every time I said something mad?” With a final angry growl, she vamped out and her eyes flashed amber in the candlelight. “Did you enjoy giving me eternity, only to make me live it in terror?”

Angel refused to say anything, as unresponsive as ever.

Slowly, Drusilla’s anger dissipated at the weak, helpless creature before her. “How fitting that aaall your blood will save me. You’ll be nothing – ashes – and I’ll be strong once more. And,” her frenzied pacing came to an abrupt halt right in front of him, “when my daring William and I are enjoying eternity together…” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “We’ll never spare you a second thought.”

She sat back, satisfied at that, no longer caring whether he responded or not. She hadn’t expected the cough from the door, however, and turned in surprise to see Spike waiting there. Jealous eyes were fixed upon the scratches, bruises, and burns that covered Angel’s bare torso.

“Clever boy,” she tried to reassure him with a smile, pausing only long enough for him to open up his arms to her before she slipped into his comforting embrace, “sneaking up on a psychic like that…”

The comment seemed to amuse him, and his lips quirked as he ran the fingers of one hand through her ebony hair. “It’s time,” he informed her.

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Angel’s despairing look. “Did my Angel hear that?” she informed him smugly. “It’s time to give me life once more.”

Spike gestured to Sayo and Julien to take Angel, and the two minions did so while Spike led Drusilla back into the audience hall. “Feelin’ tired, pet?” he asked softly, noticing her shiver and removing his duster so that he could wrap it around her shoulders.

She gave him a grateful little smile. “Tired, but sooo excited,” she assured him with a little giggle.

“Make sure you’re never this weak again,” he promised, placing a kiss to her brow.

She purred softly and nuzzled against him. “My Spike has always been so good to me,” she sighed. Elegant fingers stroked his cheek. “My beautiful love…”

His eyes squeezed shut tight for a moment at the admission. “Tonight’ll be the end of Angelus, you know,” he commented cautiously. “No chance he’ll ever come back to us…”

She jutted out her lower lip for his benefit and looked up at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. “My baby shouldn’t ever have to worry about naughty daddy,” she insisted. “No one’s ever loved me the way you have. If only…” A sad, distant look entered her eyes, but she shook it off. Almost instantly that quirky smile returned to her lips. “We don’t need Angelus anymore,” she insisted. “We can have a perfect, happy little family without him.”

“Dru…” Spike purred lovingly against her, nose nuzzled deep into her hair as he squeezed her tightly against him. “Love you so much, pet.”

“Naughty, sweet William,” she agreed.

Across the audience chamber from them, Buffy watched the entire display with a mixture of jealousy, arousal, and fear. She should’ve known right from the beginning that she’d never be able to slip her way between those two. They looked so perfectly fitted to each other right then, so very in love. They understood each other, had cared for each other for over a century. And she was just some fledgling they’d picked up on a lark.

“Told you,” Willow’s voice slipped into her mind nastily.

Buffy glared at the redhead as she went over to join Spike, Dru, and the rest of their little party.

“Ooh, bondage Angel!” Willow giggled in delight when the elder vamp was brought up in chains. “Pity we don’t have time to play with the puppy,” she pouted.

“His screams are so pretty,” Dru agreed before letting out a little squeal as Spike lifted her up in his arms to carry her to the place of her healing.

“You’ll keep an eye on things while we’re gone,” he informed Buffy, approaching her to brush a quick kiss across her temple. 

Dru’s sneaky hand found Buffy’s breast as he did so, and she gave her grandchilde a quick, affectionate squeeze. “Be sure to stay up for the fun later,” she advised Buffy.

Buffy merely nodded, took one last moment to murmur against Spike’s shoulder, before she stepped back. She bit her lower lip as the party moved out, leaving her feeling distinctly alone for the first time since she’d been turned. One narrow-eyed look at the remaining vamps in the audience chamber, and she retreated back to her rooms to join Cordelia and Xander.

What she didn’t see were the two vampires that exchanged furtive looks upon her departure.

“Two to go,” the large vampire that had attacked Cordelia commented nervously. “That’s what they’re all thinking. Just waiting to get us alone and…” He shuddered.

Ivan threw him an annoyed glance. “Are you forgetting we’re dealing with mere fledglings here?” he snapped back, annoyed.

“You saw what the redhead did to—”

“I saw,” Ivan cut him off. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’ll still dust if you ram a stake through her heart…after ramming it somewhere else first…” He added with a wickedly hungry smile.

His companion couldn’t help but laugh naughtily at that, too. “Good luck, though,” he added soberly. “We already got lucky that Spike and Drusilla didn’t come after us for the last time. The little fledgling girls we can handle, but the masters?” He just shook his head.

Cold, calculating eyes turned on him. “What if our glorious masters weren’t around anymore to stop us?” Ivan countered slyly.

A baffled look.

“It seems there’s a new slayer in town,” Ivan clarified. “And if she should happen to stumble upon Spike and Dru when they were at their weakest… Say, at that ritual tonight, perhaps?”

His companion’s eyes lit up with realization. “Then there’d be nothing left to stop us from teaching those bitches another lesson. And make sure it takes this time.”

Ivan snorted. “Small minds,” he complained before leaning in closer. “There’d be nothing left to stop us,” he agreed, “from becoming the new masters of the Hellmouth itself.”

A greedy smile in response. “What do we do?”

Ivan grinned and slipped one arm around his much taller companion’s shoulder. “Not much at all, really,” he countered as they exited the entrance hall into the clear, dark night…

“I say,” Kendra began, “that we should check every church in Sunnydale.” She crossed her arms over her chest matter-of-factly, as if the solution really was that simple.

Giles sighed and removed his glasses. “Our chances of locating Spike in time to save Angel—”

“Who cares about the other vampire?” Kendra countered. “Better to wait until this Angel is dead before we attack. Better odds.”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose at having to explain this all over again. “Angel is an ally,” he repeated. “Alone, you stand very little chance against both Spike and Drusilla. With Angel’s assistance, we just might succeed.”

Kendra shifted uncomfortably at that. “The slayer works alone,” she insisted.

“And, when she does so, she gets herself killed.” Giles felt a little pang in his heart that no one had been able to help Buffy in her final hour of need. “Besides, I am your watcher for the duration of your visit, so you will listen to what I say.”

That subdued Kendra at once. “Yes, sir,” she said apologetically.

A brief twinge of disappointment went through Giles that she gave in to his orders so easily. Not like Buffy at all. Although he was quite surprised to find that he missed her disobedient aspects just as much as he missed her more pleasant and delightful qualities. It made the loss of that vibrant, strong-willed life even more painful for him.

“It seems to me,” he began once more, shaking off the moment of grief, “that the wisest course of action would be to—”

A cough at the library door cut him off.

Kendra instantly leapt to her feet and took up a defensive stance, cursing herself for allowing herself to become so distracted that a pair of vampires could get this close. She circled for one moment, waiting for their attack. When it didn’t come immediately, she rushed at them with an ululating battle cry, high kick catching the largest of the two right in the chin and sending him smashing back into the library desk.

“Wait!” the smaller vampire exclaimed in alarm. “We’re not here to fight!”

“That is what the slayer does to demon scum,” Kendra informed him coldly, plucking Mr. Pointy from the waistband of her pants.

“We’ve got information on where Angel is!” Ivan squealed in horror as Kendra pinned him neatly down and raised her arm to strike.

“Wait!” Giles’ command halted Kendra instants before the killing blow.

“He is a vampire,” she insisted. “He must be destroyed.”

“Is there any harm in acquiring information from him first?” Giles pointed out, eyebrow raised.

Kendra bit her lip for a second before reluctantly letting Ivan go. “You had better not lie to us,” she informed him icily.

Ivan gulped. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he insisted, his voice squeaking.

Jim, his six-foot-four companion, rose, giving him a bit more courage.

“We tell you, and you have to let us go, right?” Ivan insisted.

Giles, now armed with a crossbow, gave him an imperious look. “I hardly see why that should follow,” he countered. “But you may live a bit longer if you tell us what you know.”

Ivan and Jim exchanged a worried look. Getting killed definitely hadn’t been part of their plan.

“We don’t have all day,” Giles informed them tersely. Kendra stepped forward in response, ready to be rid of these minions.

“We’ll tell!” Jim insisted nervously. He looked pointedly at Ivan.

Ivan, in turn, was studying the bookshelf beside them, plotting their escape. “Well, go ahead,” he rolled his eyes.

Jim nodded. “They’re going to kill Angel tonight in a ritual that will restore Drusilla. Right at midnight—”

“We know all of this,” Giles cut him off impatiently. “Where?”

“Th-The abandoned church in San Mateo Cemetery,” Jim hastened to answer.

Giles thought about this for a second and decided it was likely. Spike would want to choose a cemetery where he was unlikely to be disturbed by the living, and the church in question was one of the prime options in Sunnydale.

“Why are you telling us this?” Giles continued his interrogation. “If you think to lure us into a trap…”

“Trap?” Ivan scoffed. “You honestly think we’re taking orders from that usurper?”

Also a good answer, Giles decided. From what he’d seen and read of their foe, he was unlikely to put his paramour in such danger during this highly delicate ritual. “You did not answer my first question,” he stated simply. “Why tell us?”

A nasty sneer curved Ivan’s lips. “Because you can make Spike dead for good this time.”

An internal power struggle with the vampire clan, then. Interesting. “Why—?” Giles began, but his question was cut off when the two vampires made their escape attempt.

With a loud crash, Ivan abruptly knocked over the bookshelf, sending Kendra leaping back out of the path of destruction. Giles had been lamentably off-guard as he had gotten into his questioning, and he raised his crossbow to fire a second too late. Just as the minions darted out the door, the bolt lodged in the frame.

“Damn it,” he swore, hurrying over to tend to Kendra.

“I am all right,” she insisted, getting to her feet. She gave him a particularly blank look. “No harm in questioning the vampires before we kill them, I believe you said?”

Giles sighed at that. “At least we’ve found ourselves some bigger fish…”

Kendra nodded and headed over to the weapon’s room. “I will take care of them,” she insisted.

Giles caught her arm. “We will take care of them,” he countered in a voice that brooked no argument…

“That settles it,” Jim shuddered at their near escape as they wound their way through the warehouse district. “It’s not just Buffy. All slayers are fucking psycho.”

Ivan snorted at that comment disinterestedly. “It doesn’t matter now that she won’t have her Spike to save her,” he countered with a wicked grin.

Jim looked at him confusedly.

“No need to wait to have our fun,” Ivan countered. “Pretty little girls left home all alone…”

“With no one to defend them,” Jim agreed with a toothy grin.

“What do you say we have some fun with those bitches tonight?” Ivan suggested, licking his lips.

Jim merely nodded eagerly, before they hurried back to the clan hideout…

Spike tested the chain that bound Angel’s arms and was satisfied with its strength. He gestured to Julien to give the chain an extra tug where it was looped over the ceiling beam. Angel’s arms jerked up another foot in response, leaving his body stretched as far as it would go. He let out a little whimper of pain, and Spike grinned.

“Dru-luv?” he gestured for her to come forward.

She slipped his duster off her shoulders and handed it back to him with a coy smile. “Soon we’ll be together again, my love,” she cooed before taking her place and allowing Spike to latch her to Angel above the altar.

“Well, then,” Spike took a step back and glanced at the clock, “looks like ‘s finally time to get this show on the road…”