Wasn’t it kind of funny, Angelus thought now as he watched his ‘team’ scramble. 

Oh not them, though they certainly were. Well, funny in a pathetic sort of way. Not a clue in the world, actually, not a one. And they thought they were going to defeat him? He’d laugh if there weren’t that pathetic part to the equation. Oh, what the hell, it was funny and the pathetic part actually added to the humor. 

The laugh that escaped him was definitely humorous, yet it was tinged with a malice that caused several who heard it to walk faster past the dark man leaning casually against the brick wall. He knew exactly what they were going to attempt, he had, after all, trained them in all ways to defeat a vampire. 

The sad, sad fact of the matter – for them – was that…he hadn’t trained them in all the ways he knew. What was that saying? They knew everything he had taught them? Granted, but he hadn’t taught them everything he knew. And that was a delectable irony that was going to entertain him for quite some time. 

Now then, which one first? 

There were so many to choose from. The seer who wanted his body but refused to actually see Angel for what he was, preferring to ignore the demon aspects of his personality in favor of what she wanted him to be. She would make an interesting fuck-toy. And wasn’t that what she really wanted to be, anyway? 

Probably not the way she had envisioned, but the end result was almost the same. 

Use and abuse and bide his time until he had whom he really wanted. 

The son, ah, yes, the son. He could wait; Angelus decided as his enhanced night vision allowed him to watched them pile into Wesley’s SUV and speed down the road. Even the demon was conflicted on what to do with the miracle child. It wasn’t that he was a part of Darla, no indeed. That crazy bitch should never have been brought back. It was the fact that Connor was Angel/Angelus’ son. 

Fred was an annoying little fuck who needed her high-pitched vocal cords ripped out. And possibly her vaulted brain splattered, too…ah to dance in the carnage. That should be fun. He smiled at the thought, pushing away from the wall, black duster swirling behind him as he strode down the street. 

He was certainly a vision in the cool Los Angeles evening; an air of power surrounded him, a perfect compliment to his classic looks, his eyes dark and mysterious, pulling one into their shadowy depths. He hadn’t had to use a vampire’s thrall in over two centuries; humans naturally fell into his dark gaze, wanting to be devoured by the handsome devil they encountered. 

Let’s see, where was he? Ah, yes, the traitor. Actually, Angelus thought with a smirk, ignoring the looks – some scared, some interested – from passers-by, Wesley’s stunt nearly a year ago was certainly a move worthy of him, Angelus. Taking the son in a move designed to protect but endangering instead…classic, was it not? Still, Wes’ time would come; he’d just have to wait his turn. 

Gunn…actually Gunn was probably the one member of his little team that was worthy of being turned. He was smart and quick, strong and not afraid to take on something bigger than he. He usually won, too. 

Now then, there was also Wolfram & Hart. 

Lilah would also make an amusing little fuck toy, though both she and Cordelia would probably not make it past the first week. Oh well, these things had to be done. They wanted him on their side, to help bring about the apocalypse. They obviously didn’t understand the whole ‘Doesn’t play well with others’ theory. 

Speaking of playing well…his wonderful little mate. Now she needed a lesson in obedience. If the rumors he heard were true…she was going to need more than one. And his wayward childe…Spike was going to regret ever laying eyes on Buffy. That was a good idea, actually, start with the eyes. 

Made the anticipation all the sweeter. 

As for Buffy…his little slayer would most definitely last longer than a week. She was his mate; after all, it would be…embarrassing to realize that he had chosen one who couldn’t meet his every passion. Dismissing that thought as quickly as it came as simply absurd, Angelus turned into a club, eager for a fresh meal. 

She would meet his passion and survive it, eager for more, because she was his equal, in every thing. Passion, hate, love, predator, kill, but most especially passion. And there were so many different types of passion; he couldn’t wait to share them all with his goddess. 

A smile graced his features, causing several nearby females and one or two males to start forward. That smile told of unimagined carnal delights, nights and days of every pleasure known to man and many that were not. Of ultimate pleasure and dark passion. 

Angelus looked around the club; the pulsing beat of the music echoed his undead heart, the scent of arousal and pumping blood. Yes, this was the perfect place to hunt. 

He walked further into the room then stopped. What was that? The pull inside him was fierce, stronger than anything he had ever experienced, with the exception of his mate’s presence. Turning swiftly he missed the looks of disappointment on the faces of several patrons and walked back outside. 

The alley was just another darken dead-end, trashcans held rubbish that was overflowing and the stench was overpowering to his sensitive nose. There, though, at the dimly lit far end was…something. The light was almost nonexistent but he could see well enough. That didn’t mean that he knew what he was seeing. 

Buffy walked out of the shadows just then, smiling sweetly at Angelus. “Welcome, lover, I was wondering when you’d get here.” 

Growling deep in his chest, moving into a fighting stance, Angelus shot back, “You’re not Buffy, where is she?” 

Sighing once, as if it were a great burden, ‘Buffy’ transformed into Drusilla then Spike. “Better? Ring any bells, there?” Spike’s voice echoed out at him and Angelus fought with himself to take a step back. 

He knew this, knew the stench and the feel… “The First Evil,” he said flatly, wondering just what he, er, It wanted with him. Again. 

“Good memory, mate, seems you haven’t forgotten everything.” The sarcasm, the accent, were all Spike. It did noting to improve Angelus’ reception to the being before him. 

“New henchman?” He asked instead, indicating the really ugly vamp like thing behind ‘Spike’ with a nod of his head. “Ugly, I’ll give you that.” 

‘Spike’ laughed shifting into a blonde Angelus didn’t know. Her eyes, if one didn’t look too deeply, were kind and soft, her posture and clothes unthreatening. Then again, at second glance she was much more threatening than anything imaginable. 

“He’s called the Turok-Han, the first vampire.” 

“Convenient,” Angelus said, still wondering if this conversation was a good idea and why he was still alive, “The First Evil and the First Vamp, nice duo. You should take the act to Vegas, I’m sure they’d love you there.” 

“You mock, but you have no idea what I’m offering,” It said quite seriously as if suddenly realizing Its mistake. Lack of information was only a good thing when it applied to Its many enemies. “It’s called immortality, Angelus.” 

Scoffing at that Angelus actually laughed. “I have immortality, babe, it’s called being a vampire. The whole never ageing, never dieing thing? And I look a lot better than…that thing over there.” 

Shaking Its head in sympathy over his lack of understanding, It elaborated. “There are still ways to die, Angelus, stake, fire, beheading. These things…I can change.” 

Suddenly interested, Angelus asked, “And in return?” 

“The world, of course. There really is nothing else. You rule the world; bring it into eternal darkness for a hundred thousand years. Oh, and the slayer, of course. Can’t forget her, can we?” 

“She’s mine,” he said seriously, not willing to budge on this one point. The world he could do and would do so willingly. Killing anyone and anything that got in his – and subsequently Its way – that was fine as well. But Buffy was his and it wasn’t open for negotiation. 

“Of course.” The still blonde creature acknowledged and Angelus had to wonder why It chose this form when he was unfamiliar with her. He couldn’t know that the form of Tara MacKay was going to come in very handy in the future. 

“She’ll rule by my side as we bring darkness to the world,” Angelus reiterated, just in case there was any miscommunication. 

“So long as she doesn’t stand in our way.” It agreed, allowing it for the thought of a slayer as Its alley was just too ironically wonderful to pass up. 

“What’s involved in this transformation?” 

“A little blood letting, a little drinking, some chanted words of course, nothing much, really,” the still blonde evil said, “Basically Turok-Han will be your new Sire. I’m sure you have enough contacts here to take over this delectable little planet, what do you say? King of the World?” 

“I’m way better looking that that ninny DiCaprio.  And I prefer Emperor. Or perhaps god.” 

“Your choice of course, but the agreement?” 

Nodding, Angelus agreed. While the world sounded nice, hell, better than nice, he wanted his mate first. What good was ruling the world when you had no one to share in its many depraved pleasures?
~~~~~~~~~~
“WHAT?!”  

Faith hadn’t meant to yell, but one did not drop news such as this on a person and expect a reasonable answer. 

The guards turned sharply in her direction but Faith knew they wouldn’t do anything to her, they were all afraid of her power. She and Wesley, who had obviously been elected to speak with her, ignored them. There were more important things in the world than the displeasure of a few human guards who had no idea what their charge was let alone what she guarded against. 

“It’s true, Faith, I’m sorry. We aren’t sure how it happened,” Wes continued sadness in his eyes for the man he once considered his friend. His voice was what chilled her, though. It was hard and unforgiving and not at all like the Wesley she remembered. 

“Angelus said something about Buffy, but she wasn’t there and they both know better than that so I have no idea what he actually meant. And there’s no answer in Sunnydale, but the few messages we’ve received from Giles suggested something equally bad is happening there.” 

“I’ll do it,” Faith said, conviction radiating out from her. She knew, without Wesley having to actually say the words, that they wanted to break her out of jail to help in the fight. And it was just as well he hadn’t said them, things like that would be picked up on right quick in this place. 

“Good,” her former watcher said, “I’ll see you then, soon.” They talked a bit more, though what they actually said neither knew their minds focused on Angel. Or rather, Angelus. “So, tonight.” Wes said out of nowhere and stood, leaving the room without a backwards glance.
~~~~~~~~~~
It hurt, but he expected nothing less. 

Symbols were carved into his chest and palms, the blood pouring out of him in constant streams. Then he had to drink from the Turok-Hun and that was just…foul. Was this how Darla’s blood had tasted when she turned him? He couldn’t remember and later her blood was a sire’s blood and sweeter than most things in the world. 

Buffy’s delicious nectar excluded, of course.

It didn’t take long, or at least Angelus didn’t think so, and when he awoke on the dirt floor of a cave in the middle of wherever, he did feel stronger. He knew he was the same, or at least physically, but he felt more powerful, faster, more aggressive, even. 

First stop then, Angelus thought, looking at the empty cave and wondering, idly, where the First had gotten off to, Wolfram & Hart. 

There were some old debts to be repaid there and some new allies to forge and destroy. Then he’d get on with the business of killing his so-called friends. 

Yup, he thought as he stalked through the almost deserted streets of LA, finding random humans to feed from, unlife was grand.

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