Titled: Penny Lie and Say You're a Dollar
Author: Meghan

email: Meghanreviews@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: nope
Distribution: my hosts, my site, my yahoos...

Thanks Ryan!

Summary: He was her homecoming King... the bastard...

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: BA

Her warm lithe body was curled under an afghan on his lap, with her
head of blonde hair resting on his chest just beneath his chin. Her
eyes were open, with the flames from the fire glowing like orange
imps dancing in her eyes. They were quiet as they sat together in the
thickening silence. His hands idly played over her mortal body,
loving every inch of it, and every second he had with her.

Since they had unofficially begun to date things were still and
quaking between them. They formed habits of couples who were many
years going. Of course his heart for hers has been going for many
years, but she had told him in one of their previous quiet reflection
moments that she had felt like she'd known him from past lives.

It might have been just their feelings compounded on and on unto
infinity. Here and now was real, no matter how deep, how far back.
Now was the time they were friends, loves, lovers, and companions.
They were also warriors, flying colors that made light. They wore
everyone. They were the light. If they had known each other in their
pasts beyond this lifetime, it could explain their instant connection.

He had felt it when she was six, not as strongly as now, but it had
been there. He had felt it. Something old and heavy weighing on his
heart that also felt light and happy.  Their lives were one, just
like they were also a melding of two to one. The power of eternity
resided within them. Still. Quaking. Waiting. It was there.

Their dates consisted more of patrolling and quiet reflections here
in his apartment, then movies and dinners, but it was the time alone
that they both treasured. He felt the love grow stronger between them
with each passing hour in her company. Sometimes they talked.
Sometimes, like now, it was silent. She was the pivotal point in his
existence. Made him tick and keep on ticking.

Like the energizer bunny.

She sighed in his arms, settling her head into his lap and wrapping
the afghan to her chin, her eyes beginning to drift shut. Once she
had told him, that in his arms she felt safe enough to fall asleep,
and that sleep came sooner here in his apartment then in her own room.

He was enthused to hear that. She could fall asleep and know she was
safe. It made him feel… he took a deep breath… it made him feel
worthy. Of her. Of them. Of being a we and an us and no longer just
an I.

His fingers trailed in her hair, softly sweeping it away from her
struggles to keep her eyes open. No words were needed. She had to
sleep, because if she didn't she'd be up 24/7. He knew she stayed up
longer to be with him, and woke early for school, and never napped
because of training and hanging out with friends.

He was afraid for her, juggling all of them. They all pushed her,
demanded from her. For them she was strong. For himself, she was also
strong, but in another way. He tried to demand less, expect less.
However his expectations were just as demanding, but in another
fashion. He wanted her happiness, and not just always showed her
happy face.

Some nights he had to push inward on her barriers to get her to break
down and tell him what was bothering her. Sometimes it was easy, and
others she'd be stubborn and refuse to talk, but those nights were
fewer and far between. She had begun to trust that she needn't always
be strong with him. Needn't always show the Buffy she thought he
wanted to see.

He let her be weak. To show her tears. Those tears to him, were not
weaknesses, but release of pressure on her. Those tears were
strength, and maybe because of how he viewed them, she let herself
cry when she needed to.

Looking down at her sleeping features, he smiled, overjoyed at her
sleeping countenance. Never waking her, he stroked her back, tracing
a palm down her spine firmly. He worked on her back muscles in a firm
but gentle massage, she wasn't tense, but she was tired. So he let
her sleep and comforted her body with his. His brown eyes never
wavered from her fanned eyelashes, and as she sleep he gazed over her
vulnerable face.

He loved her, and felt even more then those words. With her, love was
too trite a word. There was something inside him that without words
felt for her so strongly, he craved words in which to explain it.

But since he didn't. Love would have to do. Love.

Her breathing was deep and quiet as she slept on, and he sat there
with her, holding her close, watching the fires begin to die and turn
to ash. The smoldering light, was dim and low, casting the room into
the darkest of shadows. The shadows weren't how a human would see
them, but he knew how to use them. The night was his and he used it
to help him. Like it should always be. Never let the night claim you.
Own you. Never let it win.

He almost had. Those many years ago he had crossed the line and had
faded away. She had brought him back, it hadn't mattered to her how
deep he had gone into the darkness, his Buffy Anne would have delved
in after him if only to rescue him and chew him out. Funny thing
though, he could picture that very easily.

Shifting, he moved so he could cradle her in his arms and stand up.
It took a little maneuvering, but he managed, pulling her up to his
chest with her legs curled over his arm. Treading quietly through the
apartment, he settled her in his area blocked off as his bedroom,
settling her beneath his pale blue sheets.

After checking that her head was lying on a pillow, and the covers
were secured, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on the bridge
of her nose before leaving her to sleep. He went out back to the
living quarter and sat on the couch, pulling the dress shoes and
black socks from under the coffee table and into his lap. A few
minutes later after tying the laces, he stood and went into the foyer.

The hallway was small, lengthwise and widthwise, large enough for one
his size to go through, but not two. He opened a little closet and
yanked his leather jacket off the hanger, taking no time to put it on
properly. He left the apartment quietly, with one arm still not in a
sleeve.

He had a few vampires to check on. Ever since Spike's most unpleasant
entrance into his life, he called those two minions that tried to
follow in his footsteps. The one grumbled on occasion but both seemed
to be exactly what they said. If he isolated them, or trusted them
too much, they might turn to Spike. He was their dominant
personality, and he couldn't appear weak to them.

One was tall and lanky, with hunched shoulders and white washed jeans
he always seemed to wear. The vampire called himself Dominick,
although his real name was something too girly for his tastes.
However `Angel' was a masculine name to the vamp, go figure.
Dominick, had shoulder length black wavy hair and deep brown eyes
nearing black. His accent made him sound from Alabama, and he tried
to boast being over a 150 years predating the Civil War. Unlikely.
Very unlikely.

The other one was Saber, and he wore his hair died fire engine red,
and that for some reason didn't look that bad with his pale
complexion and green eyes. He wore white men's dress shirts from an
era back to his own human times, and crisp black jeans topped by knee
high boots with silver buckles. His hair was long for today's
accepted masculine hair length, but it wasn't past his chin, so it
couldn't really be termed long hair.

Living above ground and on animal blood seemed to be suiting them
just fine. Maybe it was because they no longer feared Buffy also
known as the slayer in these parts. She seemed to enjoy their company
in small doses, and once said if it wasn't for him, the vampires
wouldn't have stand a chance against her because by now they would be
dust. They hadn't offended her yet, they spoke to her like they did
to him, realizing that if they overstepped their grace line, his
protection was removed from them.

His fledglings have been very useful in sending whispers his way
about Spike and the latest hubbub on his part. The town was too small
for all of them. Way too small. He'd thought it been bad when Darla
was running around town with the Master beneath the city. At least
then he had only one vampire to deal with at a time. Now he had too,
Spike and Dru.

Dru. Now there was a topic for loads of brooding. Buffy had been
jealous for the first time in their dating career over this certified
insane vampire. She had caught them `kissing' in the park and when
she had asked him about that night he had said nothing happened of
interest. She had taken that as a lie to protect an affair he was
keeping behind her back.

It'd taken an overdue apology and explanation and then of course a
groping/make out session. He enjoyed the last part of their making
up, and he while feeling delight in her jealousy also wondered why
she would think that would cause her to have jealousy.  Since then,
if she asked a question, whatever it was, he answered it as
truthfully as he could. No lies between them.

She had asked about Dru. He told her. She kissed him. Brooding eased.
Her touch made him feel better. He found he could let go of that
crime marking his soul with Buffy's empathy. She'd told him that
Angelus had done it and not he himself… so told a lie he had long ago
tried to convince himself but failed… she had made it truth, and the
pain of Dru all but disappeared.

Maybe it was love. Maybe it was trust. Maybe it was just because it
was her, and no one else would have been able to appease him over the
matter. Nope. No maybes, that was the reason why it worked with her.

Shaking his head, he reached the upper floors of his apartment
building, and knocked on A3. Both of his newest willing minions were
offered separate housing, but had choose to cohabit out of the
ingrained vampire codes the Master had established.

The door swung open by a smiling Dominick, with wet tousled hair,
like he'd just come out of the shower, but he was dressed so maybe it
wasn't so recent. Without waiting for the invite, he strolled across
the threshold, and sat down on one of the chairs he had provided for
their use. It was a comfortable deep green and sable couch made of a
fine soft cloth material.

He relaxed, and looked at Dominick expectantly, motioning him to also
sit. It pleased his companion who had never before been treated with
respect, and he sat down gingerly on the companion piece of
furniture. His black hair, fell curling around his cheek from the
loose tie holding it in a ponytail, but his eyes spoke of trepidation.

"What's Spike up to now?"

Dominick fiddled with his hands for a moment before forcing himself
to stop and look up.

"A new band of humans came to town, they're part of some cult that
worships vampires. The teenager leading them, has designs to be
turned by Spike and has offered these willing victims. The boy
diluted them into thinking that it was eternity that they were all
being granted, however its not his plan. Tonight he initiated the
request to meet Spike in person. Spike as of yet, hasn't answered."

Nodding, a thoughtful look of contemplation crossed his features as
he thought upon the matter. Tomorrow he would tell Giles about this,
but first he'd check out the scene himself with his new boogeymen and
surprisingly acceptable companions.

"Do you know the kid's name?"

Saber, entered into the room from the kitchen with a drop of blood
clinging to the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away before
grinning. He was the more confident of the two of them, as without
being asked he sat down and joined them.

"Naw, Dominick and I didn't catch a name. Too bad, would be
interesting to see the morons of his little club."

"Saber."

He looked up the smile hesitating at the warning, then he shrugged
like it was no big deal, he hit Dominick on the knee and reached over
for the newspaper.

"Hey no sweat Angel. I was just fooling around. I meant it though,
how stupid are they? Vampires are people too, uhhun. Only those that
are the exceptions to the rule of the bloodthirsty."

Dismissing the incident, the conversation took a new turn. There were
whispers about something shady on the preternatural side going around
the underground about the mayor of Sunnydale, Mr. Wilkins. No one
knew exactly what his deal was, but the rumors were pretty colorful.

"A few say he's a demon," Dominick said, tucking the loose strand of
hair away from his face as he shifted positions.

An indigent snort came from the other vampire as he laughed into his
lap, "Yeah, sure, he's a demon. More like a human playing the good
cop bad cop deal. Wilkins knows the shit that happens in this little
town. Whether or not he attributes it with the same crap the cops
actually dish out to the public is another thing. I bet he doesn't
even know of the hellmouth. Yeah he's a demon all right."

"Why do you mock the rumors Saber?"

He caught a glimpse of uncertainty before it disappeared, with an
arrogant lifting of his nose, he reared back and sneezed rather
fakely. "Oh no! Germs! I need a Kleenex! I need anti bacterial hand
sanitizer! Cleanliness is godliness!"

Standing up, he let loose a chuckle and went for the door letting
himself out. His strides took him passed both fledglings and he
looked down at them the smile still on his lips. They were watching
with hesitant smiles on theirs as well. It was unusual for them to
meet a kind master that had the ability to rip their throats and
other anemones out or off. Which just went to say he was not a power
freak.

"You've proved your point Saber. Goodnight to you both, enjoy the
evening."

"See ya Angie," Saber called as he walked over to the stereo system
on the other side of the room.

Rolling chocolate eyes, he merely retorted, "Never call me that."

Music started to pound from the speakers as a hand waved over the
red's shoulders proving he had heard.

"Honestly, I don't know how you live with the guy. His taste in music
sucks."

Dominick laughed, and walked out by door, shutting it softly behind
and blocking out that dreaded music. Thank God. Jogging down the
steps, and hopping onto the main floor of the lobby, he quickly
strode out into the waning night. Just a few hours left to go.

Funny how he trusted his sleeping mate with those two vampires. They
weren't good, but they weren't technically evil either. Sort of in
the middle of a grimy Oreo cookie. Saber and Dominick were safe for
Buffy because they respected her and feared he, himself; so they
played by the rules and guarded her like he would.

If before they had been grumpy over that fact, they shut up and did
it gladly after he had conveniently let it slip that the Master had
tried to kill her… simply put it was a threat to them because of what
happened to the Master after that attempt to dim her light. So yeah,
he guessed they were trustworthy enough.

He walked the back alleys following the steady trickle of human life
ebbing and flowing to the Bronze. The people were stupid, they let
anyone follow them. Reaching the army bunker, he carefully peered
inside. Not seeing anything unduly out of character, well minus the
surplus of oddly dressed humans, he decided to go inside and take a
look.

With one hand in his leather jacket and one on the railing, he glided
down the stairs watching them through a steely gaze. They were
dressing as vampires, and the gist of most of the conversations were
on how gentle vampires were or how eternal life and beauty are the
most precious of gifts to be bestowed. These people were fucking nuts.

A man dressed like an elaborate Houdini with fake plastic fangs. The
whole cult was human and ready- no willing- to give up their life for
the demons. They didn't know what or who vampires were, they were
lambs saying the big bad wolf wasn't going to harm them just play
with them. Someone had to beat some fucking sense into them.

"I bet an offering of the slayer our leader dangles like a carrot
over this fellow Spike's nose will get us all in the club."

Turning he saw a man in a white silk shirt and black leather pants
with his hair in a leather thong. The guy could almost past, if it
weren't for his eyes. They were happy. Son of a bitch. The fushia
died harlot was draping herself all over the guy when she grinned
sappily.

"The slayer is such a bitch. She kills our friends. She should die."

Something had to be done.

"Oh, I wouldn't let Angel hear that. He's the vampire who killed the
old master in these parts for her."

"Well ain't he a bleeding heart? Protecting the wench who is killing
off the vampires."

A moment later the girl was thrown against the wall with him stepping
in close. He sneered down into the violet eyes surrounded by heavy
makeup and clumpy mascara. Her eyes showed defiance, but his efforts
gained a surprised squeak from her. Pressing his snarling face to her
nose he uttered very quietly to her.

"The slayer is your friend because the only rule a vampire will
concede to with you is that you are the gullible meal and dead. They
crave blood and life, and you will not be able to delude yourself
once your blood is pouring down its throat. Then you will beg for the
slayer to save your sorry ass, and she will show, and you will never
thank her. She is worth more then any vampire you'll ever meet, and
degrading her will win you sure death by Angelus' hands."

"Thought you said his name was Angel," she spat, though her eyes were
wider then before.

"He'll make an exception for you and give you his demon to play with."

"I don't believe you. Vampires are my friends."

"Then you will die."

He let her go, watching the skin purple from the grip of his fingers
before turning and calmly going up the stairs ignoring every set of
eyes that rested upon him. If they mocked Buffy again, they will know
the term vampire and cower from it. He did not tolerate their
insolence, he did not tolerate meals or fools. All in the room below
were both.

The night air was crisp and cool on his skin, blowing across his face
as he walked. Focusing he made himself calm and still, letting out
the breath of hatred. Dawn would be rising soon, he hadn't realized
how long he had been down there. Too late now, but maybe he had made
a point.

Sprinting he skidded around the blind corner of the Bronze and up the
steps to his boarded up apartment complex. Yanking the heavy metal
door open, he rushed inside as the first rays of light began to
appear over the tops of the buildings in the alley. When he was
inside, he locked the door and jogged down the flight of stairs to
his converted basement.

When he entered, he immediately noticed the smell of gourmet coffee
being made. Okay, Americanized mocha coffee, but that wasn't the
point. He followed his nose into the kitchen to see his brand new
coffee express thing being used by a tantalizing blonde imp.

Not knowing if she heard him come in, he tiptoed into the functional
room and wrapped his arms around her stomach. Her sigh full of sweet
love told him that she had heard him, but had let him play the game
anyway. Grinning he pulled her hips against him, letting her see how
happy he was that she was awake.

Poor little night bird, she really hated the mornings.

"Morning my heart, feeling rested?"

She leaned against his frame as she swallowed a few sips of her
scalding liquid before pivoting slowly in his arms and kissed him on
the mouth. Hmm… mocha flavored.

Her tired eyes said it all before she even spoke, "Mornings aren't my
thing. I would love to sleep in and skip first hour."

At his look she took another long swallow before sighing. She knew
that he didn't like her skipping school. Funny thing was, he could
probably teach her more on any topic taught in school with the
exception of math. He didn't do math. Obviously she didn't either, or
chemistry. More things in common.

"I know, I know. Bad Buffy, education is important."

"You should want to learn things."

"I don't like the atmosphere of high school," a thoughtful frown
etched itself into her features as she starred into her cup of
steaming wake up juice, "or for that matter I don't like Principal
Snyder. Did Mr. Flooty have to be eaten by a wild pack of human
wolves?"

Pressing his forehead to hers, he just wrapped her more snugly into
his arms, comforting her. They stayed that way for a few moments
before he pulled away tucking a strand of her mused hair behind her
ear.

"Shouldn't you be going home to get dressed now? Before your mother
wakes and finds you gone?"

"Oh yeah."

That little pout was going to do him in, he knew it.

"Hurry, wouldn't want it so I couldn't see you tonight."

The horror on her face was precious as she scrambled to give him a
quick kiss before dashing out. The room was still zinging with her
sunny attitude and a boundless positive energy. The day was going to
be a long one.

Padding into his bedroom, he gazed wistfully at the tousled bed
sheets for a few moments of fantasizing. Shaking his head, he
stripped and slid between the sheets closing his eyes with her unique
smell wafting up from the pillow.

The dreams were going to give him hell… at that he grinned widely…
then yawned… and promptly fell into a deep sleep that only the dead
could have.

The sun was just beginning to set when he awoke from slumber. The
dreams had been just as good as he thought they'd be, of course the
real thing is always better, but that'd come later tonight.
Hopefully. Running through his nightly "morning" ritual of a shower,
two sets of teeth, food, and clean up, he was gone, walking the few
back alleyways to the Bronze.

The club was dim but for the occasional flashing swirls of light and
the area right off to the side of the bar. He saw Buffy playing pool
with Willow and Xander on one of the red felt table tops, and angled
over to them, pushing his way through the crowd. The music was loud,
but when he got close enough, even Xander's loud motor-mouth drowned
out the pulsing beat.

"Hey Buffster, I thought we were going to have a crazed party at the
Bronze."

Xander looked up from his shot and saw the death glare shooting from
his female friends' eyes, causing him to question softly, "A very
calm crazed party at the Bronze?"

"Xander just shoot the cue ball, I want to kick your butt."

"Hun, I'd have suggested a shared box of Oreos dunked into apple
juice, but maybe you've grown over that phase."

He saw the guy with the flaky school boy charm and eyed the weasel
through narrowed eyes. When Buffy turned to the voice, her eyes
widened and she squealed in delight launching herself at the boy.

"Ford!"

Shit.

"Hey Summers, how you've been?"

She pulled back much to his relief, but the smile was still
there. "OMG! Ford, what are you doing here?"

"Dad got transferred, senior year is hanging out with you again."

That smile shouldn't have grown wider. Really, those big smiles were
for him.

"That's great!" She seemed to remember her manners as she turned to
her friends and waved at them, "These are my friends Xander and
Willow and guys this is Ford."

Ford. Ford. Where had that name burned in his memory from? He thought
back to Hemery High, and concentrated on his memories of the four
months he had spent there in the shadows. Nothing came to mind, but
his thoughts kept crashing into that first night he'd seen her again
at fifteen all feminine and scared of her duty.

The boy known as Ford grinned goofily and said cockily, "I didn't
think you'd remember me."

"Remember you? Duh! We only went to school together for seven years.
You were my giant fifth grade crush! You broke my heart."

"I was a manly sixth grader, I couldn't been seen dating a girl much
less one a grade younger."

"You still went out with Miranda. It was terrible. I moped over you
for months."

He had the grace to look sheepish, but he didn't seem sorry in the
least. "What can I say? I made it up to you when you were in 9th
grade didn't I?"

Billy Fordham. His full name came to him at that moment. They'd been
Homecoming king and queen in her 1994 at Hemery. Or maybe they had
just gone to it as a date thing. The sign hadn't read the king and
queen bit, he'd just assumed.

Shit. Fuck the little bastard, he needed to leave Sunnydale. Now.

Wait he missed something…

"Ford was just telling us about the ninth grade beauty contest, and
the uh swimsuit competition."

Buffy blushed and shrieked in outrage, "Oh my God Ford, stop that!
The more people you tell, the more people I have to kill."

Ford just grinned, "You can't touch me, Summers. I know all your
darkest secrets."

"Care to make a small wager on that?" Xander glowered, although a
spark of malice flashed in his eyes.

For once he actually agreed with the jealous runt. That was scary.

"I'm gonna go get a drink. Ford, try not to talk."

She left the pool stick leaning against the couch and sauntered away
from them, he did too, slipping through the crowds until he reached
her at the bar surprising her when she turned around and walked right
into him.

"Angel," she cooed, leaning up to kiss him but he took a step back,
cursing mentally at himself as he did so.

"What's wrong?"

"Whose Ford?"

He didn't try to sound jealous, it was a fair question, but the
knowing smile on her lips made him want to hurt her with words. Or
wring the boy with his bare hands. Possibly both. He was only shaken
out of his growing blood filled thoughts with the touch of her small
hand.

Looking down at her sweet concerned face he felt foolish, and even
more so when she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him softly letting him
know he didn't need to worry. The kiss had been brief, but the
lingering passion between them shimmered in the air.

With her arm around his waist and her head on his arm, she guided him
to her friends and Ford. He saw Xander break the stack of billards in
one clean shot. He was angry. Ford looked curious and Willow wasn't
paying them any attention as they came up. Bless her.

"Hey Buffy who is this guy?"

Through the corner of his eye he saw her tilt her head up to drink in
his profile, however he kept his competition in sight. His arm
tightened possessively around Buffy as she kiss his cheek before
focusing on her `new' friend.

Ha.

"Ford, this is Angel."

They shook hands, measuring each other. It wasn't the younger who
came out on top in any category… at least not to him. It didn't
matter what he thought, only Buffy. Growling would show just how much
testosterone was swelling in his veins wouldn't it? Maybe a healthy
glare would work.

"Well I'm hot, want to go Angel?"

"Yeah, sure. See ya Xander. Willow. Ford."

Always acknowledge your enemies. It made you less stupid. Acknowledge
most especially the males who walk into your territory uninvited
looking to score… that didn't come out right did it? Oh well, his
hackles were up. Something was nagging him and it wasn't just the
boy's wandering eyes.

Yeah. Uhhun. Sure Angel, you keep telling yourself that and maybe
you'd believe it one day.

"Should I worry?"

She giggled, tucking herself more firmly into his embrace as they
left the light spilling from the club onto the sidewalk. Their hips
bumped into each other as they walked, swaying from side to side. It
was a nice possessive feeling.

Take that little runt.

"How was your day?" he asked as a way to make small talk.

"Snyder was an asshole like always. What's new from the underground?"

"Dominick and Saber heard of a new guy coming into town running a
vampire worshipping cult. I checked it out last night and the people
inside are bloody fools."

"That's not good. Want to check it out?"

Nodding, he changed their direction and they doubled back behind the
main part of the Bronze past an old set of warehoused down to the
shoreline where the docks settled into the only industrial part of
the town. An old army bunker stood off to the side a half a block
before the water, and he stopped pointing towards it for her.

They saw Spike's peroxided hair and Dru's long brown ringlets slip
through the door and they hurried to follow. The grass was dewy and
clung to the soles of their shoes giving off a sloshing sound. He
tugged her hand and ran a little faster forcing her to catch up.

Two burly men were by the opening into the bunker and got in their
way. He knew they weren't Spike's so he vamped out and showed the
fangs, the boys smiled and stepped away. Some people didn't have
neurons at all. Made higher brain functions impossible. Like thinking.

Buffy was puffing, winded from her forced run to keep up with him.
She was probably cursing his leg length or maybe even himself at the
moment, but below were a bunch of humans who were too stupid to
realize they were playing with fire.

Taking her hand in his, he moved them slowly down the steep descent
to the on drugs high party below. She wasn't going to drink anything
from this place, it wasn't sterile and it could like he said, be
drugged. Hell she shouldn't touch anything in this germ infested rat
hole. Stupidity might be contagious too, he'd have to check on that.

"Well isn't this a nice little surprise. Hello Angelus."

So much for undercover, but hey he was looking to stand out.

"Well Spike, I just couldn't let you get bloated off of their blood.
None of them are worth the meal."

Spike sauntered to them in vamp face, his hands in his pockets when
the door to the army bunker swung shut effectively trapping them all
inside. The three of them turned to see Ford standing up by the rails
with a smug smile.

" `Lo Buffy, welcome to my cult. Its good to see the slayer gracing
us with her presence, for she is a most pleasing sacrifice to our
beloved friends."

"Ford."

The word was softly spoken, full of shattered innocence as he watched
her eyes cloud with horror. One of her best friends had reversed the
world in which she lived in and he couldn't change it. However,
something could be done. And so he vamped out.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the words sounding normal but for the slight
lisp on a few syllables because of the fangs.

Raising his arms to draw attention to himself, he stood tall in the
circle of space he had created. Relaxed, he took in his surroundings
in seconds and was beginning to form a plan. The look on Buffy's face
said she was doing it too, and that was great, maybe their half
formed plans would make a nice whole one.

"You are amidst a danger so perilous that death has begun to chuckle
at your ignorance of it. Vampires-"

"Ah come off it Peaches. Vampires. Shampires. You got to be so
dramatic sometimes its a pain in the ass to just talk to you."

"Spike," he growled stalking to his grandchilde.

"Spike," the blonde repeated in a high girly tone.

He couldn't sense Buffy anymore, she wasn't in the circle of people
surrounding them nor was she inside their boundaries. The people just
stood there expectant, wondering at what ritual they were looking at.
If they had to know it was easy: punishment to the wayward childe.

"I may not have done it in awhile, but Spike my boy, you could be
sorry still for inducing my wrath."

"I'm scared, really soul boy."

A high feminine cry pitched from up above, and the two of them looked
up. High above them, near the railing, stood Buffy with lock around
Drusilla's chest and a stake over her heart.

"Listen up vampires. Back off, to the walls on the opposite side of
where I am. Humans converged at the bottom of the stairs here. Now!"

"Dru! Damn it people, where the hell are you? You were suppose to be
guarding Drusilla!" Spike roared, turning purple in rage.

Walking, a bit sinisterly, he couldn't help but smirk. "Haven't I
always taught you to guard your perimeter."

"Don't look now, but her little friend just ambushed them," the
snotty voice called from behind him.

Looking up, he saw her punching him, but Dru was gone and when he
turned around he saw her in Spike's arms. Damn. He was going to have
to kill the prick up there. She could handle herself, but that didn't
change the fact that he wanted to play.

Darkness beckons, and it looks appealing.

As he watched the affections of his childer, he kept an eye on the
vampires slowly easing away from the edge of the room. Whatever
advantage they had had, they didn't have now. Fucking shame too.

"So, we were talking Angelus?"

"Angel. The name's Angel, William."

The tone or emphasis didn't even make Spike flinch, but Dru's eyes
lit up.

A thought came to him, and he knew it sucked as plans went. No wait.
Make that really sucked. Really, really bit. No pun intended there,
but he was going to have to play things that were only going to bite
him in the ass later.

No- he wanted that- so umm… just say it could lead to bad things.

He was going to make Dru come to him with open arms. Which meant
alienating Spike and Buffy. Not good. Passion ruled him much like his
brain. They were quarreling and he spared a glance upward at Buffy.

Little less then two dozen vampires, a shit load of vampire
worshippers, and all that against the two of them.

He heard her grunt as she took more blows then dealt, because he was
human. Now isn't the time. She was already or had already spazed over
Drusilla… he was pushing his luck. No… no… he crossed that line
already.

"Dru, come here sweety, you know Spike is being naughty."

"But daddy has been naughty too…"

"Don't Dru," came her mate's raged filled voice.

He caught on quick.

Smart, but not smart enough.

"He hasn't been treating you well. All sunshine and flowers, we crave
the night Dru but he makes you play in the shallows. Come into the
deep end, let's see if you can still swim."

"Oh Angel…" she cried, launching herself at him and away from Spike.

Good. He didn't look up, but he felt Buffy watching him as he
embraced his crazy childe tenderly, only his fingers leaving a rough
pinch from pressing into that fragile skin.

"Dru get back here now!"

But Drusilla had already made up her mind, she had seen his killing
of Tidel when he called to her. So wanted to play where Spike's been
making her toe in the line. Poor Dru, she always craved the action.
Turning in his arms, she pressed her entire body back against his,
curling her arms seductively around his neck, stretching like a well
fed cat.

"Don't you feel it Spike? He's been brewing a little darkness. A
little darkness is beckoning to me with sweet coated words of night
whisperings. You've been mean to me since Prague. I'm going to play
in the sultry darkness that cloaks him."

"Dru, pet, he's lying get back here."

"Angel?"

He closed his eyes, he knew she'd speak up sooner or later, so it was
time to stop acting… but not yet… he walked backwards up the stairs
grinding his soft member into her ass… she always liked that, and her
purr was enough to savor the horror in Spike's eyes…

Up three more steps, then he'd be safe to stop acting. Two. One. When
he stepped away from Dru, he glanced sideways into eyes so cold in
shattered emotions, he wanted to cry out that he didn't mean it. He
didn't! Not one word!

A-C-T-I-N-G People.

Look it up.

He couldn't face her eyes, but his own flashed the truth… maybe she'd
understand and forgive him. Maybe not. God, pray that she does. He
took Drusilla's hand and pulled her into step with him.

"How do we get out? There's no handle."

The bloodied mess to the right of his beloved, coughed before
grinning. "You can't. The sun will set before the timed locks open
up."

Shit.

"Buffy, start slaughtering the vampires in the room."

"Would that include you?"

He gave her a look.

He watched as she twiddled her stake and walked down the stairs.

"I don't have to take this!" Spike cried, punching the air with his
finger in their direction. "I can just have your Rebekah of Sunnyhell
killed off right here!"

"But I've got Dru."

"You bloody bastard!"

"Your minions boy."

Spike gnashed his teeth and nodded his head at Buffy before stepping
back. Some minions tried to give a fight, but they were swiftly
eliminated. The mass of people shuddered as they saw how easily
eternal life could be snuffed, a few had started to cry silently.
Some of the horrors were beginning to dawn on them.

"Now that they're all gone, what are you going to do?"

"Give you an option."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I'll give you Dru back on your solomn vow not to harm anyone in this
room until night has fallen and the locks are opened."

"And then?"

"All that stay behind are fair game. Let's show them what a vampire
is."

"Billions of happymeals with legs."

"You got it boy. Knew you were smart sometimes."

Drusilla was shoved down the stairwell, with him following. One glare
of mutual hatred but understanding, left three vampires on opposite
sides of the bunker.

"Spike I'm hungry. My tummy `rowls."

"Later pet. We're outnumbered."

Leaving them huddling in the corner, he held out a hand to Buffy.
Love poured from him in waves over her, and he watched a teardrop
fall down her cheeks. Suddenly, he had he cradled in his arms, as he
climbed the stairs to sit by the door.

Settling her into his lap, he held her tight against his chest, and
let her wet his shirt with her tears. Few things could hurt her like
this. Her friends, her mother, her watcher… and now he has joined the
ranks. He's hurt her.

"I'm sorry."

She hiccuped and pressed her face further into his chest, and all he
did was cling to her just a little tighter. Rubbing her back, he
soothed her sobs to soft jolts through her body. Hiccups. Annoying
buggers made it hard for him to apologizing without smile at her
cuteness.

"I'm sorry Buffy. I did the only thing I could think of that could
buy us safety."

"Think harder next time."

"Do I get a next time?" he asked softly lifting her chin with his
fingers.

They stared at each other for long spaces of time, before she blinked
clunky wet eyelashes together, leaning in to kiss him softly. Her
lips brushed tenderly against his, her breath warm. A small sound
escaped his throat as his hand grabbed her hair and pulled her
further into the kiss.

His tongue stroked hers, each swipe and tender showing of love and
passion. He proved to her with his mouth and lips and tongue just how
much she meant to him.

His soul. His heart. His life. His passion.

Pulling back an inch at a time, he licked her lips and the tracks of
tears along her cheeks before pulling away to stare into her eyes.
Her eyes strayed locking onto his neck, and with trembling fingers
she pulled out the cord lying around it.

The copper penny fell into her palm. The penny from her loafer. The
first penny. Their penny.

The penny that was worth more then its face value.

"He'd lied. Ford lied."

"I know…"

He held her to him again, comforting the only way he knew how.

A friend had tried to make himself worth more then dirt, and she'd
bought into it. That friend chipped away some of her innocence
tonight… when they got out of here, he would tuck her into his
sheets.

Then he'd call Giles. Find the boy. Beat the shit out of him. Then
come back and make love to her.

Not necessarily in that order.