When it All Comes Together

“It’s been entirely too long, I want to know where she is!” The graying man shouted, glaring at his subordinates.  

Too many weeks had gone by, and they were still no closer to finding the new Slayer. Then again, recently, they hadn’t been able to find many of the potentials, either, and no one seemed to know why. Their seers were useless, catching only two out of every five slayers called, and even their agents in the field, Watchers specifically trained to spot a slayer, or sense a potential, were miserably failing. 

He glared around once more. Some of those with him were equals, but he never acknowledged them as such. He was the head of the Council, therefore he wielded the most power. Quinton Travers bowed to no one, not even allies. His eyes slanted to those around the long rectangular table, the highly polished wood gleaming in the dim light. Books lined three of four walls of the historic structure, giving it an old world air so many things lacked these days.  

Travers sighed, both over the lack of respect for the past of so prestigious an institution as the Council, and over the lack of brains in those before him. 

“Mr. Travers,” a young man spoke up, hesitatingly. “None of our potentials were called. We’ve checked every area of the world with even a mention of a girl suddenly exhibiting new, unusual, or extraordinary powers. We’ve got nothing. No one knows where this girl could even be. How do you propose we find her if even our strongest seers cannot locate her?” 

“They predicted it would be Kendra,” another needlessly reminded them all, “but she wasn’t Chosen.” 

Somehow, Travers’ eyes turned colder at the first man’s insolence, and he ground out, each word precise. “The Power of the Slayer is in some girl, somewhere, and we don’t know who she is or where she may be. Our greatest weapon is now wandering around the planet without a clue as to what’s happening to her, expanded powers and all? You mean to tell me that’s something that hasn’t made the evening news as a local interest story? I find that so very hard to believe.” 

His gaze swept the room again, new blood interspersed with aging lines. Young Wyndham-Price, whose father was a bully but a fine field agent, old Regina Giles whose son turned his back on such a glorious heritage and embraced the black arts. She never spoke of him, and Quinton was happier that way. Though he did wonder if she still kept in touch with dear Rupert, who was originally destined to head the Council instead of Quinton. Elizabeth Reinhold, her daughter and grandson, all fine watchers. The Santani Twins, powerful seers, though useless to him at the moment.  

There were theories as to why the new Slayer was missing, the strongest being that she was somehow hidden from their sight, but nothing provable. And if she was deliberately being hidden from their sight, why? And by whom?  

“I want that Slayer found, and I want her found immediately, is that clear?” His tone brooked no argument, and the gathered nodded, accustomed to Travers’ outbursts. 

Chairs scraped against the hardwood floor as the group exited. Once he was alone, Quinton collapsed into his cushioned leather chair. He was getting too old for this, yet didn’t trust anyone else to do his job as well as he did. Not even his own children and heirs. Besides, the power was a heady rush. He barely looked up when a knock sounded on the old oak door. 

“Enter.” 

“I have the latest activity report of Nest and his family, sir, as you requested.” At Travers’ nod, the young man smiled. “We’ve discovered the reason they’ve been off our radar so long, sir.” 

“And that is?” Travers asked, folder unopened on his desk.  

He’d look at it later, scour each word. Go back through each and every file they had on the Order of Aurelius and scour each word there, too. Nest, and those Masters before him, had continually eluded the Council’s best efforts to eradicate them. They were murders of the worst sort, worse than most Orders of vampires. But Nest maintained a tight hand on their activities; rogues were ash, dissidents were quickly the same, and everyone bowed to the main family. Or were killed for their efforts. 

“They moved from Sunnydale to Los Angeles, sir.” 

“When?” he snapped. 

“Uh…” the young agent stumbled. “Several years ago.” He cleared his throat. “They are, ah, they’re currently in Russia. Apparently they’re attempting to weed out another Order there, but information on that is scarce. Rumor has it that Nest’s human daughter has taken Angelus as a lover. And he has taken her as his Mate.” 

Standing, shoving his chair violently back, Travers grabbed the papers from the desk. “That’s impossible. Why would Angelus take a mate, and a human as his mate at that? Nest’s daughter or otherwise. The better question is, I think, Miles, who is this mate? Information on her has always been inadequate at best, outrageous lies most likely. I want everything we have on her, and I want it now.” 

Miles nodded and left to do his duty. Travers, for his part, smiled, and it wasn’t exactly a sane one. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad day after all. Finding out the identity of Nest’s human child had always been a priority for the Council. Why he’d taken a human as a child, how she survived, hell, what she looked like. None of that information could be gleaned from even the weaseliest of vamps, and they’d tried everything.  

Bribery, threats, lies, truth, and yet no one talked of her. Why? There were so many questions, Quinton didn’t know where to begin. But a trip to Russia seemed to be in order. 

This may be their lucky day.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy stretched against Angelus cool, hard body, smiling as her eyes slowly opened. 

“Morning, lover,” he said with a kiss which quickly turned heady. Pulling away, Angelus looked down at the beautiful blonde in his arms and in his bed.  

He didn’t exactly know how it happened, but somehow it did. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe and America, Master in his own right, grandechilde to the Master of Aurelius, had just spent the night in the Slayer’s bed.  

Never had he enjoyed a better evening.  

The spitfire Slayer was as passionate as he’d always thought. Angelus smirked as Buffy settled her head on his chest, her breathing telling him she was still awake, but perfectly relaxed, enjoying her down time before the start of their day. Her fingers wandered down his chest, over his belly. Teased his hardening erection.  

Growling low in his throat, Angelus thrust up, against her. He wanted to be buried back in her heat, wanted to taste her delicious passion. Was all but desperate to taste her blood, but wouldn’t endanger her until he’d heard back from Spike. 

Who damn well better call soon, or Angelus wouldn’t be responsible for his actions against his own grandchilde. 

“Do you…” she trailed off. Reminded herself that her father didn’t raise a coward, knew she wasn’t one. Still couldn’t understand why, after all that had happened during the night, she was now nervous. “Do you regret it?” 

“What?” Angelus asked, titling her head. “Our evening? No,” he assured her, “not in the least. Shall I demonstrate to you just how much I don't regret it?” 

Buffy chuckled, low and throaty. Moved her hand along his long length. Throwing a leg over his waist, she straddled him, teased him again. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning up to kiss her. Looking up at her from the soft bed, he said, “I want you so much, baby, it drives me mad.” 

One hand tangled in her hair, the other toyed with her nipple. Buffy drew in a swift breath, sank onto him. Moved slowly up, then down again, hands braced on his chest. 

“You drive me crazy,” he repeated. “Always have. I can’t resist you any more, Buffy, but I won’t put you in danger.” Rearing up he stilled her. Felt her clench around him, wanted more, but couldn’t not say these next words. “I can’t live without you, not any longer. If there’s a way to keep you with me, I’ll find it. I’m not letting you go, my love.” 

Feeling tears well in her eyes, Buffy tenderly kissed him. “You say the nicest things,” she said.  

Then slammed back down on him, taking him deep into her welcoming body.
~~~~~~~~~~
“You wanted to see me, daddy?” Buffy asked as she entered her father’s suite. 

Reluctantly, she’d left Angelus to sleep the rest of the afternoon, wishing she could catch up on her rest as well. And hoping that the soreness permeating her body went away sooner rather than later. 

“Is there something,” Nest said slowly, “that you wanted to tell me, daughter?” 

Angelus’ scent was all over Buffy, seeping into her skin deeply. Her hair was swept up, no doubt purposely, showing off her newly marked neck. She often wore her hair back, plaited when on a mission or working out, but rarely did she show off her slender, pale neck to the Court. 

But Nest said nothing. He wanted Buffy to tell him on her own, wanted her to trust him with her feelings for the other vampire. Most importantly, he wanted to know what her plans for Angelus were and how she planned on executing them. 

Raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow, Buffy smiled. She laughed and shook her head. “You already know, daddy. Angelus and I are lovers. Don’t even tell me you don’t approve. For years you’ve maneuvered us together, don’t think I’m blind.” 

She took another step closer, eyes narrowing. “What I want to know is what happened during the last two years, and what little role you had in it.” Nest remained silent, watching his beloved daughter. Her eyes narrowed further, then she shrugged. “It just so happens,” she said in a lighter voice, “that your plans for us coincided perfectly with my plan for Angelus.” 

Nest laughed, and the booming sound echoed throughout the floor. His daughter knew him all too well, despite his careful concealing of his long-term plans. Still, he needed to know. “And your plans for Angelus?” 

“I’m going to rule your Court, daddy, with Angelus as my consort.” 

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, beckoning her closer. Buffy kissed his cheek and sat next to him on the settee. “And what about your dear old father?” he asked. “What’s to become of me?” 

That eyebrow arched again. “You mean to tell me that you haven’t discovered a way to make me immortal, father?” shaking her head, she sighed. “I expected more from you on that front. So tell me,” she continued, pouring a glass of wine for herself. “What did you think I planned on doing?” 

“Just that,” Nest agreed, accepting the blood she also poured into his favorite goblet. “I’ve always known you would take over the Order, darling. That was never the issue. No, the issue is that now you’re the Slayer.” He sighed and prepared to admit what he never had before.

 “No Slayer has ever successfully been turned.” 

“I know,” she nodded. “But you haven’t found another way?” 

“No, daughter. But I’m not giving up. I have a lead that may yet prove useful. Now,” he changed the subject. “Tell me of the mark,” his gnarled fingers brushed her neck. Buffy shivered, but jerked back. Again, Nest smiled.  

“The perfect reaction of a true mate. He has said the words?” Buffy nodded, but he already figured Angelus had. The boy wasn’t a fool. “We’ll make a formal announcement once we return to Los Angeles, have a ball, celebrate in style.” 

”I want to announce it here,” Buffy said slowly. “We can have the ball when we return, but I want the announcement made now.” 

“As you wish, daughter. You truly are my child,” Nest approved and clasped her hand in his, kissing the back with his disfigured mouth. “Be careful, Buffy,” Nest warned seriously, his old eyes boring into hers, his already pasty white skin paling more. “I don’t want to lose you, my dear, and you know as well as I; there are factions out there that will do anything they can to see you dead.” 

“I know, father,” Buffy assured him with a soft smile. Her soft warm hand caressed his cheek. “I have no intention of letting my guard down.” Her smile was swift and feral. “I already told you I intend to rule your empire someday.” 

“And I intend to willingly hand it over to you,” he smiled. Standing, he paced a tight circle in front of her. “Dalton should have an answer on that lead I mentioned within the week. After that, depending on if the answers are what I expect them to be, we’ll make arrangements for you, yes?” 

Buffy nodded, but hesitated in answering. “Something strange happened,” she admitted. “When Angelus marked me. Or rather,” she corrected, “when I marked him.” Nest raised his own eyebrow and waited. “In all my research, I’ve never come across a vampire-human mated couple. Do you know what happens when a vampire – a Master who’s as strong as Angelus – takes a human as mate?” 

Nest slowly shook his head. “No, not that I recall. I, too, looked into this, but nothing pointed to anything…strange. What happened?” he asked, and was shocked when his daughter blushed.  

“Nothing worth mentioning.” she mumbled. “My body didn’t accept the transfer of blood as, ah, smoothly as I’d expected. Angelus thought he’d killed me.” 

In an instant, Nest was beside her. He ran his eyes over her, visually searching for signs of harm. His hands patted her bare arms, wool encased legs. “You’re alright? Damnit, Buffy, why didn’t you say something before?” 

“Daddy,” she reassured him, and Nest found it odd that the child was reassuring the father. “I’m fine. Truly.” He must not have looked reassured at all, because she kissed his cheek. “It didn’t last, and I feel wonderful.” Another smile, the brilliant one she only showed when thinking of Angelus. 

“If that boy’s harmed you in any way,” Nest promised, “I’ll make his death as long and painful as a thousand years can provide.” 

“I love you too, daddy.” Buffy laughed. Serious again, she said, “But I want to find out why this happened. Was it because I’m human? You always said that only true mates last, that many who mate do not truly belong together, and therefore the bond is corrupted. I know it’s real between Angelus and me,” she said, “but I need to know if there’s something there that’ll cause us harm.” 

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded.  

“No. it’s private between my Mate and me, Father,” she said formally and a little stiffly. “Suffice it to say, he refuses to drink from me again until we discover what happened. Since I have no desire to go without my Mate’s Kiss for longer than I already have…” 

“I’ll see what my scholars can find.” Nest agreed. He wasn’t relieved that she was okay, was, in fact, more worried now than he had been. He couldn’t lose his daughter, his precious Buffy to a reaction none of them had thought to investigate.  

“I swear, Buffy, I’ll find out what happened.” 

She nodded, relaxed against the settee again. Drawing him next to her, she stalled. That was the only thing he could think of that she did. And Buffy never stalled. What was going through that brilliant mind of hers? 

“Angelus tells me,” she said cautiously, and Nest stilled at that. His daughter was rarely cautious. Swift, sure, decisive, all true. Cautious only when she wasn’t sure about how…about how he’d, specifically, react to something. “He said that Darla was outside my door last night. Spying most likely. She was gone all night, father. I checked. And no one seems to know where she went or with whom.” 

“I don’t recall sending her anyplace,” Nest admitted. “She’s had time off for doing so thorough a job with the Milei.” 

“I doubt she’s spent her down time in a productive and Order-advancing way. The old witch’s probably in league with someone. And I’m not entirely convinced she wasn’t behind the attack on me last September.” 

“Buffy,” Nest began but stopped. “Be careful, daughter.” He cupped her hand in his, holding the warmth in his cold, rough hand for one moment longer. “Darla’s not to be trusted for the simple fact that she’s a vampire. She wants your place, both in my life and in the Order. She’s petty, greedy, vicious, but planning…? Not her strong point.” 

“I’ll be careful,” Buffy promised, kissing his cheek. Standing, she added, deadly serious, “But I need you to be the same. I don’t want anything bad happening to you because of her. She may hate me and my place in your life, but she hates you for forsaking her.” 

Nest kissed her cheek and watched her go, pride swelling in him for the beautiful creation that was his beloved daughter. A hobby-experiment that had intrigued him had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. He loved his human daughter, the Slayer, no matter what anyone said about feelings and vampires. He loved her as he had no one ever before. 

“Oh,” she called from the door, the laugh back in her voice. “And I need new guards; Angelus killed those outside my door last night for not escorting Darla…away from my rooms.”  

Nest merely nodded to that. “It will be seen to,” he murmured. But his mind raced with thoughts on his once favored childe. And what new scheme she’d cooked up this time.
~~~~~~~~~~
Glory fumed all the way to Nest’s hotel. Waiting an intolerable length of time for him to answer her ‘request’ for an audience, she alternately berated herself, Rupert, and Darla. The whore. And Ripper for still, still, agreeing to see her, even after Glory forced herself to reveal, in all its gory entirety, the history between her and Buffy, and Buffy and Darla.  

“Glory,” Nest greeted in a jovial voice. “So very nice to see you again. Really, it’s been too long.” 

“Nest,” Glory nodded the greeting in return. “We have a problem,” she said without further preamble. “Darla’s been meeting with the Meili. Forming alliances behind your back to take over Aurelius. And she’s entertaining an alliance with Ripper.” 

Nest’s eyebrow raised. Not in disbelief, as Glory expected. In that preamble-like way that precedes the storm. “Ripper, as in Rupert Giles, formally of the Watcher’s Council?” But he didn’t wait for Glory’s nod of affirmation. Turning to face the curtained windows, he said, “I expected more from her.” 

“You knew of her betrayal?”

“Not to this extent,” he admitted.  

“Then you’re blind, old man. She’s hated Buffy since the moment you decided to accept her as your daughter, not just as a meal, or play thing. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried something sooner.” 

“She has, but Buffy’s always repelled whatever feeble attempts Darla meted out.” Nest turned to face her again. “How do you know of Ripper?”

“We’ve been traveling together, as lovers, for some time now. By the way,” Glory added, “I hear congratulations are in order. Buffy’s been Chosen?” Nest nodded, and Glory smirked. “Excellent. The added strength of the Slayer will help in your Court, and as your heir. And,” she snickered, “I bet the Council hates that.” 

Laughing, he shrugged. “I’m not sure they realize who’s been Called just yet. I hear they’re frantically searching the globe for their dear Slayer. I do so love irony.” Nest waved Glory to the settee Buffy had vacated a few hours ago. “But there’s more,” he told her, offering her the same wine Buffy had enjoyed.  

“More?” Glory sipped the delicious beverage, waiting. “More than Darla’s betrayal? The wench should’ve been seen to years ago.” 

“Yes, in retrospect I agree. But she’s always been weak, Glory,” Nest reminded her. “She can’t accomplish this on her own. Other than the weakling Orders that flock to Meili’s flag, she has to have another source for resources. That’s neither here nor there,” he waved. “Buffy’s taken Angelus as Mate.” 

Glory raised her glass in a toast, a real smile on her face. “Oh, congratulations, Heinrich! When did this happen, and damnit! Why am I the last to know?” 

“No fear, Glorificus. It only happened last night. Buffy’s in her rooms now, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.” Nest nodded. “Please visit with her. But tell her nothing of Darla. I need time to think this one through…no, tell her,” he changed his mind in an instant, not wanting his precious daughter to come to harm because he needed to protect her. 

He’d spent time, money, and resources seeing that she could take care of herself. He watched her progress from a sweet human child into a fine assassin, then into a Slayer Assassin for him. But he needed her safe. 

“I need her protected, and if she doesn’t know, then she can’t protect herself. But send Angelus to me.” 

Glory scowled, but kissed both his cheeks anyway. “You’re entirely too high handed, Nest, darling. One of these days, it’s going to get you into trouble.” 

“I’ve missed you, Glory.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Ripper listened to those around him, silently taking in everything they said. He neither contributed nor did he allow a flicker of emotion to reveal what he thought. No, instead he waited. Plotted his speech at the end of this dog and pony show, and wondered if he could leave faster than they could decide to kill him. 

Oh, that was one of the conditions, that he be allowed to arrive and leave, no matter what his response was, alive. He didn’t hold out great hope that he’d still be breathing once he told the vapid blonde before him his real feelings. Wording was everything, and he sincerely hoped he could call on enough diplomacy from his Watcher training to see him through the next moments.  

The problem was, or another problem was, that he needed to offer them something in return. It was another condition of this. He should’ve listened to Glory, he supposed, and just skipped it all together. But no, he had to see for himself. Had to prove to the both of them that he wasn’t as whipped with her as he really was.  

Typical.

Now he was trapped. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “I do see what you mean. But the Vampire Council? I was under the impression they were disbanded centuries ago because of corruption.” 

Darla waved that away, her lapdog, Lothos, smug next to her. What an awful dresser – he’d been watching too many Hollywood movies and clearly believed the hype.  

“They were brutally and cowardly betrayed,” Lothos said. “We simply wish to bring vampires back to their former glory, to the status of fear they once held.” 

“Ah.” Ripper nodded, tried for something else to say and settled, rather pathetically, for looking somewhat thoughtful. “Yes, yes, I see. Along with this,” he continued, “you wish to destroy the heads of the most powerful – and independent – orders, correct?” but he already knew the answer, so went on. “A fine first step in seeing your dream of a resurrected Vampire Council,” he approved. 

“I’m afraid, I won’t be of any help. However,” he held up a hand before those words could truly sink in and his life became in any more danger than it already was. “Have you approached the Watchers? They have an interest in seeing Aurelius, at least, destroyed. In fact,” he offered a sly smile. “The head of the Council, Quinton Travers, has a particular interest in seeing Master Nest destroyed. I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to help.” 

Darla fumed, but showed nothing of her anger. This wasn’t how she’d wanted this meeting to go, but then it also wasn’t a surprise. Contacting Ripper was a risk, and one she’d been forced to take for the simple reason that he was the most powerful sorcerer on the planet. At this time. And one with whom she didn’t already have dealings, such as Glorificus. 

“I’m sure the Watchers will be eager to ally themselves with us,” she stated, sarcasm clear in her voice. 

“Don’t underestimate Travers’ desire for revenge, or his thirst for his own power,” Ripper warned. “He wants the destruction of Nest and of Aurelius, and is willing to do much to see it through.” He paused here, watched her in a way that had Darla wondering if he could read her mind. Eventually, he added, “And he’s no doubt looking for the newest Slayer to be called. If you, by chance, happen to know where she is, what part of the world, even, I’m certain he’ll be even more eager for a temporary alliance.” 

Darla’s smile was slow, evil, and triumphant. “You may be onto something, Ripper. Thank you. I’m sorry,” she stood, that smile still in place, “we won’t have the chance to work together, but I believe we can be mutually beneficial in the future.” 

Ripper smiled at her, shook her hand, then kissed the back of it in a gallant gesture Darla hadn’t witnessed in decades. “I’m sure we can be,” he murmured. 

The moment he was gone, she sent Lothos to inform the others of Ripper’s information.  

“Well, well, dear Buffy. it looks like your time is finally up. Now, do I want to kill you myself, or do I want to send the Watcher’s after you?” she paced to the windows, looked up at the night sky. “So many choices, only one death.”

Next Part: The End of the Beginning