Jealously at Its Finest, Power at Its Best

Two Years More… 

Darla smirked as the car drove closer and closer to her goal. 

Finally, after nearly four years of forced exile she had returned to LA. And with news that was sure to earn her Master’s favor back. And kick that pathetic human of a child out forever. She’d traveled all over Europe, quelling mini-rebellions and shoring up her Sire’s interests, spreading his name – and hers – over the community.  

While in Vladivostok, she’d received a tip that had led her to believe that the order she had been sent to gather information on and destroy had tripled, and the threat they posed to Nest was now a serious one. Numerous sections of the cult had been stationed at various places over Europe, their goal was to subvert the established order and bring their order to the fore. That was old information.  

The new information suggested that the threat was far worse. They were headquartered in St. Petersburg or Moscow and had subsets throughout Russia and Eastern Europe, Western and Southern Asia, and as far as Northern Africa and Central Europe. She knew names, many locations, plans, installed spies into their ranks, and courted favor with several of the older but lesser Orders. 

Yes, the information she had was sure to win Nest’s favor back. And no matter what that pathetic human had accomplished, Darla was determined to reclaim her rightful place by her Sire’s side. 

Naturally, Darla had heard the rumors surrounding Buffy, things like that tended to travel quickly on the demon gossip line. Beautiful, witty, cunning, calculating, an assassin of the highest caliber, she was favored by Nest above all others and had a large enough following to be considered a Master in her own right. Even if – and this was what galled Darla the most – the stupid chit was human.  

And a potential slayer at that.  

But Buffy was as vicious as Nest and Angelus and smart enough to serve expertly as Nest’s second in command. Darla could admire that in a being, really she could. Under other circumstances, Darla thought she and Buffy could’ve been allies, at the very least. But the moment the human assumed Darla’s place at Nest’s side, everything changed. The simple fact was that the bitch had usurped her rightful place and that was unforgivable.

And she had Angelus.  

Darla wasn’t blind to the attraction between the two, nor it seemed was Nest. So Angelus wanted the girl and that was moderately acceptable. She and her childe had long ago broken ties with each other. While Darla may have wanted a reunion with her favorite, after Romania that had never happened, despite her tries.  

Angelus’ desire for Buffy would’ve been acceptable had he not wanted, well, Buffy. But by all the hounds of hell, she couldn’t abide the thought that he wanted that mealy human more than his Sire. And that that human had taken her place. Damn them both to hell  

But if her information was correct, then Nest’s original encouragement of this attraction between Angelus and Buffy, suggested Nest had plans for the couple. So just what was her darling Sire up to, now?  

Oh, that alliance made sense; his human child and the strongest childe of his line together would ensure a succession that stretched far into the future. It was obvious that Nest sought a way to keep Buffy with him forever, whether by turning her or with her as immortal as Angelus. Together they’d rule Nest’s empire.  

And leave Darla out in the cold and far from their plans. 

Which she wasn’t about to allow. Oh, no, the little princess wasn’t going to retain her place for long. And depending on Angelus’ feelings on the matter, neither was he. Darla had far more power now, far more allies and resources than she had four years ago. Allies she intended to use, resources she wasn’t going to squander, and power she was only going to increase.  

After all, she was nothing if not…flexible.
~~~~~~~~~~
Glory and Willow watched from a distance. 

The sorcerer, whoever he was, was powerful. And had been following them for several days now. He must know that they knew, but no one said anything and the trio continued on their own ways. But now he was doing more than following them, he was performing a spell. 

It was a simple matter to discover what kind of spell, but that knowledge made the powerful female duo all the more interested. 

He was trying to find the slayer. 

Looking towards her traveling companion, Willow shrugged. “I say we just ask. I’m tired of this following thing and I want to know what he wants. And now, I want to know why he wants the slayer. Surely she can’t be a threat to him; she slays vampires and demons, not – as a rule – sorcerers.”

Glory just nodded, but Willow thought that it was in an absent minded way. What did the hell goddess know that she wasn’t sharing? Turning away from the man, Glory took Willow’s hand and then teleported near the single bonfire the sorcerer had started. 

“Not now, children,” he said without looking up. “I’m in the middle of something rather important.  

“We can help, but you need to answer some questions, first,” Willow said without preamble. 

Sighing, knowing he wasn’t truly getting anyplace he hadn’t already been, Ripper unfolded himself from the ground and eyed the two before him. “What?” 

“Who are you?” 

“Ripper,” Giles said and smirked at the look of sheer admiration that crossed younger one’s face. Had to love that reputation. Her companion didn’t look nearly as impressed, but there was some small spark of interest there. 

“Why do you follow us?” Willow asked. Glory was still staring into the fire as if whatever answers she sought was contained within. 

“Your power streams off you in waves, little one. I could feel it a thousand miles away. I’ve been tracking you for several years, on and off. When I finally caught up with you in Venice, I didn’t want to lose you. Other things have recently came up and took my priority,” he answered honestly enough, certain he could at least hold his own against the girl. The woman near her was another matter entirely and he wondered about her. 

“You wish to find the slayer?” This was from Glory and Willow gave her long time lover an odd look. 

Cocking his head to the side, Ripper nodded. “Why do you ask?” 

“Why do you want her?” Glory asked instead. 

“One is about to die, she lingers only thanks to modern medicine. Her Watcher cannot bear to kill her outright so lets her suffer and lets the line flounder. Another is to be called and I want to know her location.” 

“And have you found that?” 

“Why so interested?” Ripper countered. Truthfully, he didn’t care about the slayer, but found that it was always easier to stay out of wherever they were just on the principle of the matter. 

While it was true that more often than not slayers had no interest in sorcerers, there was always some enterprising Watcher who wanted to make a name for him or her-self in the Council by taking down something bigger than the run of the mill vampires. Ripper had no intention of being that something bigger and made it a practice to steer clear of them. Besides, with his luck, he’d run into some Council member he knew. 

The older woman looked at him with cool eyes that gave away nothing. “If she’s in our path I’d like to know. Slayer’s are so very…entertaining.”  

Okay, so it was a lie and Glory knew it. Didn’t care, either. She knew, as did everyone in Nest’s court and most in the demon world, of Buffy’s potential lineage. If it was her young friend, Glory wanted to know. She’d need more protecting now than ever. Though from what she could discern, Angelus was more than willing to take that job. Still, being one of the few humans Glory could tolerate, the hell goddess had no intention of seeing Buffy harmed. 

“Hmm, yes,” Ripper said, clearly not believing her. “I believe the next to be called is currently somewhere in the Western half of the Americas. But I believe the Watcher’s Council knows nothing about her.” 

Nothing registered on Glory’s face. She simply nodded and turned her back, staring into the night. Willow looked at her friend and mentor strangely for a moment before turning back to Ripper. “I’m Willow, by the way, and let me say, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you, Ripper.” 

Ripper smirked again and took her outstretched hand, kissing the back of it in a courtly manner that was at odds with his dress and attitude. “And I know great things about you, Willow. I believe we can accomplish more together.” 

Just then a stiff wind blew across the field, the fire climbing high into the sky. Glory turned back to stare into it and murmured, “She’s been Chosen.” 

Across the continent, Buffy felt it as well, and she screamed into the silence of human-LA. Spike, worried for his young charge, raced across the busy street without thought to himself and onto the sidewalk Buffy was walking along. He caught her just as she collapsed. In their home beneath the city, Drusilla collapsed onto the ground as well, wailing to the stars that their precious had been reborn. 

From the shadows, Darla watched, scowling. Now the stupid chit was stronger than ever. So not something Darla, needed, but not altogether surprising. Another plan was required, and soon, before Buffy truly came into her complete power as the slayer. Of course, time was immensely short, but Darla vowed to think of something. 

As he traveled by private jet to Paris, Angelus’ head shot up and he scented the stale recycled air of the plane, searching for something. Something had happened but he wasn’t sure what. Buffy…something had happened to Buffy. Growling deep in his chest, he revised his plans. He still had several things he needed to do in Paris, but he was cutting his trip short and returning to LA. 

He didn’t care if he’d left Nest’s court in a flurry of angry words and recriminations. He didn’t care if Buffy effectively hated him now. He didn’t care if his explanation to her about how things changed was at best pathetic, and how she probably hadn’t believed him anyway. 

Buffy needed him and that was all there was to it.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Buffy awoke, several hours later, Nest, Spike, and Drusilla were all in her richly decorated room watching her. They looked at her in varying degrees of concern and pride, and Spike seemed more stressed than normal. What happened? The last thing she remembered was wondering if Drusilla would like the antique porcelain doll in the window, then… 

“What happened?” her voice was hoarse, scratchy, and she swallowed again. “Water?” she said, nodding when Drusilla handed her a glass. 

“You have been Chosen, Daughter,” Nest said, no little pride in his voice. “You are now the Slayer. How are you feeling, my dear?” Though could detect nothing amiss with her, it never hurt to be sure. 

It had been mere hours since the slayer powers found her, rushing through her in an accumulation of force and he didn’t want her over doing it too soon. Now that she was the slayer, her life would be in more danger than ever. The fact that she could take care of herself twice as well as any creature Nest had ever met – with the possible exception of himself and Angelus – meant nothing to Nest.  

Buffy was his daughter and heir. He planned on turning her when the time was right, but now that she was the slayer… 

As a potential slayer, she was valuable to him and should the slayer powers have bypassed her, he would still have had a formidable ally. Turning her when the time was right would have increased that. Now that she was the slayer, her strength was tripled, at least, and the power radiating off her was enough to attract demons of all kinds from miles around. 

His plans on mating Angelus and Buffy would need to be stepped up now. Nest didn’t have a problem with that, but he disliked his timetable to be rushed. Buffy was still only sixteen, and his original plan had been to mate them when Buffy reached her mid-twenties. Of course, if what he often witnessed between the two of them were any indication, they certainly wouldn’t mind the accelerated plan. 

Would Angelus return to court now? Yes, wouldn’t that be perfect. Oh, the younger vampire had stormed out of LA not three weeks after Nest’s refusal to grant his permission on Angelus’ courtship. Actually, Nest was impressed that Angelus had held out for three weeks, considering the depth of passion that flowed between him and Buffy. He had word that Angelus was in Paris, but that couldn’t last long. Not once word reached him of her Choosing.  

And then, despite Nest’s initial refusal, he doubted anything would stand between Angelus and that which he wanted most. Except Buffy, that was. But then the clash of wills between the would-be lovers was sure to be magnificent. 

No, the problem wasn’t his desire to see his daughter mated with Angelus. Nor was it Angelus’ strange agreement to Nest’s order. It was that turning a slayer had never been done, not to his vast knowledge and not in any of the annuals of vampire and watcher lore he had scoured through since Buffy had come to live with him.  

It was a long held belief that both The Powers and the First Slayer guarded against a turned slayer. The damage they could bring once turned was unimaginably wonderful. And, indeed, Nest had contemplated allowing Luke to turn a slayer, but hadn’t wanted the infernal Watcher’s Council finding out about Buffy. How they could, he wasn’t sure, but hadn’t wanted to chance it. 

Now that Buffy was the slayer, Nest needed to find a way to keep her with him, forever. He wasn’t about to lose his daughter and second in command because she couldn’t be turned. And since her so-called powers for light were already corrupted, that was one less step needed to be taken. 

In the issue of nature verses nurture, it looked like nurture had won here. Unless, Nest thought with a smile, deep down Buffy already held a darkness even the slayer light couldn’t overcome? Since a slayer was equal parts light and dark, was the half of her that was light corrupted once she came to live with him? An interesting theory, but one he’d pursue later.  

“Fine,” Buffy said, bringing Nest out of his revere. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. I have more energy than I can remember and it’s just…I can’t describe it.”
 

Nest smiled at her as she climbed out of bed, and resumed his planning. He was concerned about Buffy, there was no mistaking that, but he had other things to think on as well. Like what to do with the information Darla brought back with her.
~~~~~~~~~~
“What did Darla want, daddy?”  

It took a lot for Buffy to keep the spite from her voice. It was no secret she hated Darla – and the feeling was more than mutual – but Nest still regarded the vampiress as his childe and one of his favored. Despite the fact that he had effectively exiled her because of her threat to Buffy. They were two separate facets of his life, after all: his human child and his vampiric childe. 

Buffy now sat next to her father the day after Darla returned to court and Buffy became the slayer. It had been close to four years since the vampiress had made an appearance and Buffy couldn’t have been happier. She had thought that the other woman was gone from their lives for good; too bad it had turned out to be only the foreseeable future.  

Exile just isn’t what it used to be, Buffy thought as she shifted in her chair to face her father, waiting to see what he had to say. 

“The Order of Milei, an ancient Tatar group based on the steppes of Russia, has been steadily gathering followers. They want a return to the old ways – with them in charge of course.” Nest began.

“Naturally,” Buffy agreed with a smirk. “They want to resurrect the Vampire Council? That’s just…” Buffy shook her head trying to figure out why anyone would want to go back to that. “It’s just a really poor idea.” 

“There were reasons we disbanded it, yes.” Nest agreed but thought that ‘slaughtered’ was a better term for what had happened to the council. “But they apparently don’t want to remember those reasons. Darla believes that they’re gathering enough forces to become a serious threat to our interests in Europe and Asia.”

“Then I suggest we instruct them as to the error of their ways.”  

Nest looked at Buffy then, smiling at the gleam in her eyes. She may be the slayer, but she was his daughter first and foremost. Whatever ‘good’ the Powers incorporated their slayers with, it couldn’t override years of being Master Nest’s daughter. “Care to visit Russia with me, child? I know you always wanted to see more of the world.” 

Laughing, Buffy rose gracefully from her chair to kneel at her father’s side. It was both submissive and intimate, showing her acceptance of his power and rightful place in the order of their world. But it was the move of a child to her father, as well, showing affection, loyalty, love. Buffy clasped Nest’s gnarled hand in hers and brought it to her cheek. Her father was an ugly bastard, but he was still her father, and Buffy loved him. 

“They’ll never know what hit them, father, I promise you that.” 

Nest told Darla the next day. To say she was less than pleased with the plan would have been putting it mildly. 

“I agree, Master,” the vampiress said with a smile. “Milei needs to be taught a lesson. Will you be leading the forces?” 

“Yes, of course; this is too important not to. I am very pleased with you, Darla; you have shown your loyalty well.” Darla smiled again at his statement, smugness blossoming through her at the thought of traveling with her Sire once more. And leaving the annoying human behind.  

Mayhap her plans for Nest, Buffy, and Angelus wouldn’t have to be carried out. 

“Buffy will accompany us,” Nest added as he watched the emotions cross Darla’s face. Shame she could never keep her feelings in check. One day they’d be her downfall. 

“Buffy?” The name was sputtered as if Darla were choking on the word. The plan was back on. 

“Of course, have you a problem with that?” He asked, watching her closely. 

“No, no Master, I…don’t.” At least Angelus wasn’t here, though that did surprise Darla a bit. From what she’d heard, he had made it his business to be with the child more often than not. The fact that he’d left court, and in a fine temper, and hadn’t returned for almost two years only intrigued her more. 

“Excellent, then; we leave in a week’s time.” With that he stood, effectively dismissing Darla. There were plans to make after all, things to wrap up here in California before heading to Europe.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy forced herself not to look at him. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do, ignore Angelus.  

Ignore the way he made her feel, the tingle that raced through her whenever he was near. How she had to force her heart to slow, her blood to cool. Her eyes to hold his with that distant, detached look she’d forced herself to perfect.  

Bastard.  

He still affected her, no matter what she did. Or who she killed. Damn him! 

For two years he’d been gone, never once stepping back onto American soil, let alone into court. He’d given her a really feeble excuse about his change of heart and passions, and left.  

You can’t make your own decisions, Buffy, he’d said, the snarl in his voice like a slap across the face. For precious moments she hadn’t been able to think, to respond, to reason out why he said what he had. So he’d continued on that dismissive way he’d adopted. 

I tried to do it your way, but really, what’s the point? You can’t go against your precious father, can’t disobey him in even the slightest way. You’re weak when it comes to him. A weakness found in all humans. 

What are you talking about? Angelus, she’d taken a step forward, mind still muddled. Touching his arm, rigid with control, she tried to smile. But she knew something more than the obvious was wrong. Her mind, rather her heart, simply refused to process what that something was. 

Angelus, stop. Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong. What happened with daddy? 

Happened? He did stop walking then, did turn to her, eyes hard and distant. Nothing happened, baby. What did you think would? He laughed then, harsh, mocking. Did you think I’d actually ask his permission? Sorry, baby, that’s not how it works. That’s not how I work. He’d laughed again, shook his head.  

So beautiful, and yet still as gullible as all humans. You have a lot to learn about men, baby. And a lot more to learn about me. 

She’d cried in her father’s arms that night, as she hadn’t since her first weeks with him, a time she barely remembered. Buffy hadn’t ever told him what happened, but had simply needed the comfort of the only person who truly, unconditionally loved her. Her father had held her, tried to get her to talk. Vowed to hunt down and eviscerate whomever had caused her to sob like this.  

But even then, her heart shattered at her feet, her (foolish) dreams and hopes for the future nothing more than ashes in the wind, she hadn’t said. Damn her then and now, but she hadn’t been able to condemn Angelus. The fact that he could take care of himself was of no consequence, not when all the powers of Nest would’ve been after him.  

Three weeks later, Angelus was gone. In the two years since, he hadn’t been back once. Not even for her birthday. Not that she invited him, no Buffy had severed all contact with the lying bastard, but that wasn’t the point. Devious, deceitful, ungrateful…there weren’t enough words she could think of to describe her loathing and hatred of Angelus now. 

Bringing herself back to the present, Buffy smiled at Spike, sipped her wine, but didn’t hear one damn word he said. Her eyes didn’t narrow in anger, her lips didn’t curl, nor did her fingers snap the stem of the crystal goblet. But it was a close thing. 

“You know, pet,” Spike said, and Buffy tuned back into his conversation. “If you’d rather be alone with your rage, I can go elsewhere.” 

Poor Spike, she really had meant to ignore Angelus, but whenever he was near, all she wanted to do was…was what? Be with him. Granted.  

Melt into his arms? Sappy, but also granted.  

Hold tight and never let him go? Pathetic, but again, granted.  

Pound on him until he was a bloody mess and demand answers? Satisfying and granted.  

Bastard. 

“No, Spike,” she said, forced her shoulders to relax, his muscles to uncoil. “Don’t go. I see so little of you anymore, that it’s nice having you back at court. Besides, we’re heading to Russia in a couple days, and you’re off to Greece.” 

He snorted, but said nothing else on the matter. Instead, he smirked at her, nodded in appreciation of her expert dodge. Suddenly he jerked his chin at the main entrance. “Well, well, look who’s finally decided to pay his respects.” 

Buffy turned, intrigued at Spike’s wording, and his tone. “Who?” 

“Dracula. Sneaky bastard.” He flicked his lighter and held the flame at the end of his cigarette. At her look he shrugged. “Sorry, pet.” Puffing once, twice, he dropped the cigarette, stepping on it to put it out.

“Dracula,” Buffy drawled, cocking her head to the side. Yes, he was on the guest list for this evening. In fact, he was to stay in court until they left. Apparently, he had a proposition for her father. She’d tried to discover what that proposition was, but no one was talking. Or they truly had no idea what Dracula wanted in America. But that seemed unlikely. 

Her guess was that it had something to do with the Order of Milei. Buffy doubted she was wrong. 

“Spike,” she turned back to him, smiling once more. It’d been a while since she had the chance to ferret out information, and she missed it. “Introduce me.”  

“Sure, pet,” he nodded, but his eyes were narrowed. Just what the hell was she up to? “Besides, the wanker owes me eleven pounds.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Self control was never her strong point. It never had to be, though her daddy had drilled it into her often enough. Buffy had never been so grateful for those lessons as she was now. 

Dracula, Count of Transylvania, was the most boring creature she’d had the misfortune to meet in several months. Considering this was the height of the season here at Nest’s Court, that was saying quite a bit. Darkness this, his own court that, blah, blah, blah!  

“My dear,” he purred, capturing her hand. “I understand you’re an assassin.” 

Yanking her hand back, Buffy smiled. Cool, confident, regal. Okay, so he did have that neat accent. “Yes,” she nodded, sipped more wine. She was starving, but hadn’t been able to get away for any food. Nor had Drac offered to fetch her any. And a princess was way higher than a count. 

“I’m trained in all the arts,” she continued when it seemed like Dracula waited for more. “But I’m surprised that someone with your connections wasn’t aware of that.” 

Dracula bowed, his long hair momentarily covering his face. “I do apologize,” he said. “Of course I have heard of you, but I was unaware that so talented a woman could be so beautiful as well.” 

She wasn’t going to throw up. No, she was going to laugh, a light, airy laugh that belied her extreme boredom. 

Across the room, Angelus lurked in the shadows. It’d become his favorite place since his abrupt and unannounced return to court a week ago. He hadn’t had a ‘conversation’ with Nest since then, though court etiquette demanded it. The senile bastard. The list of curses Angelus had for the old bat were long and varied, but he’d never truly uttered them. Even now, when Buffy refused to look at him with any more than detached interest, he couldn’t bring himself to curse Nest. 

Damn him for that. Both of them. 

Two years away from her, and he still wanted her. He’d taken more women to his bed in the last years than he had in the last decade, and still, he couldn’t get Buffy out of his mind. He didn’t just want her. He needed her with a desperation unfamiliar to him. 

Her hair glinted in the overhead lights, upswept in some kind of twist, showing off her beautifully graceful neck. Long curls framed her face, much older now, mature, fulfilling the promise of the girl she’d been with the woman she was now. Her eyes, expertly outlined in kohl, showed Drusilla’s teaching, and made her look exotic, adding to her inherent beauty.  

She had every right to hate him, but whatever her feelings, it was nowhere near the loathing he felt for himself. 

In the years away from her, Angelus had realized what it was that drew him to Buffy so. Yes, he wanted her. As his lover, as his companion. As his mate. He loved her. He actually had feelings for her. Actually, he had more than that. The depth of his feelings was overwhelming, and for a moment after that full realization hit him like a slayer’s punch, he contemplated how lucky he was to have escaped such a fate. To feel. To love.  

That moment had passed almost before he’d completely thought his thoughts.  

In the ensuing years, he’d wondered just why he’d left her. Not for her own good, not even for Nest. It was a basic and simple emotion. A human emotion. He was scared. Not of Buffy’s powers, of her place, of her destiny. Of her. of the woman she was.  

It was a daunting sentiment when one realized that one could indeed love another more than anything in this or any live. 

So the question now was, did he slowly integrate himself back into her life? Or did he take what was his all along?  

“What’re you going to do about her, mate?” Spike asked from next to him where he’d silently stood for the last fifteen minutes as Angelus scowled at Dracula’s attempts to seduce Buffy. 

“What do you think, William?” 

Spike snorted and drained his glass. “That’s what I thought. Good luck there, Angelus. You’re going to need it. She’s not the sort to easily forgive or forget.” 

“Doesn’t matter, Spike,” Angelus grinned, the look of a predator marking his features. “She’s mine.”

Next Part: Love and Acceptance