Spike watched as the First laughed. 

Laughed and laughed and what the hell was It laughing about? Shut the fuck up already! Couldn’t It see that he was trying to think? Which side, which side, he had to choose and it wasn’t an easy decision, after all. But no, It kept right on laughing, as if the world was the funniest place ever and wasn’t it all just too damn funny. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” 

It looked over at him, air shimmering as It changed into yet another. ‘Tara’ walked over to him and smiled. Spike started at the image but not much It did surprised him theses days. 

“The world, my dear Spike, the world is funny. And all the little creatures in it. LA has fallen to my sweet boy; Angelus now controls the city and is slowly taking over the surrounding territory. Humans don’t leave their homes, fires rage; people, humans, hunt and kill innocents because of that delicious thing called fear and hatred for what they don’t understand. No one is safe. And it’s only the beginning.” 

It laughed again, pleased to have someone to share this with even if he was chained to the wall. “The slayer hasn’t a clue; she doesn’t realize just what’s happening. And it’s all my sweet boy’s doing. She’s about to blindly walk into something she has no hope of ever controlling. Then again even if she does, eventually, control it, there are consequences she could never imagine.” 

‘Tara’ changed into the familiar form of ‘Drusilla’ and It floated over to Spike, cooing just like his lost love had though sounding much more sane in her wording. “My Blood Harvest is preceding nicely, so many dead, so many more to come. The potential slayers were only the first; they needed to be killed so that the line would die. Without anyone else to take over as slayer, things would be so much easier. But did you know, Spike, that they weren’t my Innocents?” 

At his sharp look It laughed. It had often shared little things with the vampire, sometimes just to gloat for that was oh so enjoyable, sometimes in an attempt to sway him to Its side, and sometimes just to see Spike’s reaction. 

“You thought they were!” Laughing, ‘Drusilla’ twirled around once, stopping a hairsbreadth from Spike. Stroking his face It leaned in and kissed him softly. Too shocked at the revelation Spike didn’t, almost couldn’t, pull back from It, and It smiled again. 

“You thought that because a slayer was the ultimate tool for good than that made them my Innocents. No, no, dear boy, Slayers are darkness. They hunt and kill, living for the passion that greets them in the night. They aren’t my innocents; their souls are already tainted with that which they hunt.” 

And then Spike got it. He understood. “Killing the potentials, while having that lovely little bonus of destroying the slayer line was just a distraction. It was never your real plan.” 

“Such a smart, smart boy. Oh, Spike, see what we could do together? Across this miserable excuse for a world my harbingers are taking the purest of souls, those that nothing taints no matter the horrors they see. Those that always have hope, always see the good. They’re taking them and killing them, using their pureness, their unsullied goodness, their very souls as the means to rule. When the thousand are gone and the rivers run red with their blood and the heavens scream in protest, my power shall be absolute. It’s delicious, I must admit, and I do so wish you’d join me.” 

‘Drusilla’ walked away then, leaving the vampire alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that were slowly turning from helping Buffy to hurting her, hurting her because she hadn’t helped him yet, had immediately run to Angel’s side when the other vampire needed her. Had she even tried to look for him? Had she even cared, noticed that he was missing and that the First had him? 

Spike was weak and had never been anything but; he followed the strongest leader and always had, even when that leader had deserted them for a hundred years. He helped Buffy because she had the power to hurt him, to keep him in line. He couldn’t handle the soul he had foolishly gotten for her and didn’t want to; whatever had goaded him into getting one had disappeared about the time his soul had reappeared. 

And had she even cared? No, all she saw was a chance to help him the way she hadn’t been able to help Angel. The fact that the older vampire had gotten his soul back that first time decades before her birth was inconsequential; maybe she had still felt guilty for not doing more after his Sunnydale soulless stint? Unimportant, Spike thought, the point was that Buffy tried to help him, Spike, because of Angel’s influence. 

It was always about Angel, Spike understood that now. Always about him, never about Spike. And that just pissed him off, made even his soul rage at the injustice of this world. It was totally beside the point that he had often touted the fact that the world was anything but just. And he wanted revenge for that, revenge against both Buffy and Angel or Angelus or whoever the hell he was these days. 

Soul or no, there were some fundamentals that wouldn’t, couldn’t be changed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Wesley lay in a broken heap, bones protruding every which way, blood congealing underneath his body. 

Angelus whistled as he worked, a jaunty little tune that turned Lorne a vivid green and made the other demon want to vomit. Unfortunately his system was empty and he was too weak to do much more than gag and moan that they were all going to die. 

“Yup, Lorne, old buddy, that you are.” Angelus signaled two minions to move Wesley onto a table, stretching him out as they did so. “Did you know, Wes, and I’m sure you do, that according to Dante, traitors are consigned to the lowest level of hell; there the devil spends an eternity devouring their flesh, a constant pain, mental and physical, a soul deep agony sweeping through them.” 

He wandered over to his former friend and looked into eyes crystallized with hatred. “Yes, yes, best of intentions. But then there’s that saying; the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Shouldn’t have done it, Wes, shouldn’t have kidnapped my son. Think of all the trouble everyone could have been saved, think of all the pain you wouldn’t have had to personally go through. Think of actually trusting your ‘team’ with information like that. Would have saved all around, don’t you think?” 

Strapping the former watcher to the table Angelus continued to hum. “I think we’ll just leave you here for a while, let you heal a bit so I can start all over again. Plus there’s that added bonus of allowing you think on all you’ve done wrong.” 

He turned to go, sparing a glance at Lorne who wasn’t looking to well then at Gunn. The man looked ready to break his chains and attack the vampire. Ah, such enthusiasm, wasn’t it wonderful? What a fine childe he’d make. Strong, the man was definitely strong, Angelus gave him that, and certainly wasn’t one for holding back. 

It would ultimately be his downfall. Gunn was the perfect target for those little mental games Angelus excelled in. He fell for it every single time!
Laughing, he walked out the door, not bothering to shut it behind him. No one was leaving that room and if, by some odd chance, they did, more power to them. Oh, he’d eventually hunt them down, no doubt about that, but it showed initiative, resourcefulness. Something that only one person had ever shown the master vampire. 

Buffy, even the name brought a smile to Angelus’ face, got his system pumping, made him aching hard. Soon, my love, he thought as he walked into the parlor, soon. 

“Master,” the human said, bowing in respect. Well, probably more out of fear, but in the end it was all the same. “I have news on the slayer.” 

“Yes?” 

“She is in Sunnydale with the other one.” At Angelus’ silence the human risked a glance up, wondering. 

“Really?” Angelus asked in a perfectly rational and understanding voice which scared the man even more as the vampire stalked around his prey, “Didn’t I tell you to check there, first?” 

“Y-y-y-yes, s-s-sir.” 

“And you take until now,” he continued in a calm, deadly voice, “To figure that out?” 

“She, ah s-she wasn’t there at first. It took her a few days to make it there, I-I-I-I guess.” He was now bobbing his head up and down, not in control of most of his body functions. “She only showed up recently.” 

“And what is our little Faith doing now?” Still stalking in a circle, still watching his prey, scenting the fear in the air, the sound of a pounding heart and racing blood. 

“Ah, helping the other one. M-most of the re-remaining potential slayers are there, to-too. The First Evil is after them.” 

Stopping, Angelus looked at the human. The First was after the potentials? Wasn’t that a small and quite interesting twist? Well, it only made sense, no use in ruling the world – or trying to burn it – if some pesky slayer was going to get in the way. And they always did. 

“And Buffy?” Resumed his stalking, savoring the scent of fear on the man who was now visibly sweating. He had obviously lost the draw to tell Angelus this news. 

“Sh-she, ah, she’s k-k-killed the Turok-Han-” 

Angelus cut him off harshly, “Yes, I know this.” Stupid imbecile, he had more contacts than Wolfram & Hart could conceive. Plus that nifty shape shifting/distance hoping thing the First Evil had done when It showed up to tell him that Angelus’ new sire was dead. The news hadn’t brought with it an ounce of emotion; what should Angelus care for the big beastie? Simply a necessary means to a perfect end. 

“What else?” 

“Else?” It was an unbecoming squeak. “Ah, we, we don’t know. There’s a barrier up around the house and no one can get through it.” 

Willow; so the little witch was more skilled than he thought. Hmm, she might come in handy; but that was for later. “Is that all?” Now his voice was bored, his back half turned away, presenting the terrified man a stony profile. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” With one swift movement Angelus turned, grabbed the man’s neck, and twisted; with an audible snap the cowering minion was dead. Kicking the body out of his way the master vampire moved to the windows, looking at the chaos below. 

“What are you up to, my love? What are you planning?” Hands clasped behind his back, head thrown back, he closed his eyes and pictured his mate. He could feel the soul there, crying out to her as well, wanting the same as the demon though he’d never admit it. It wasn’t so much the pillage and plunder aspect of the game, more Buffy. 

Having her always, controlling her, fucking her, drinking her. Her, her, her, always her; there was nothing that compared to her, nothing that could ever take the place of her. 

It should have made Angelus angry, all this love that detestable soul had left him with; it was bad enough the first time, but now it was simply overpowering. Then again, there was his own healthy dose of obsession. Kind of went hand in hand with this love thing the soul had. But instead of making him careless this time, instead of making him want to destroy, all it did was focus him on his task, on his goal. 

She formed in his mind’s eye, golden and beautiful, small and so very dangerous. “What are you up to, what are you planning?”

Suddenly his eyes opened and he laughed. “Oh, yes, love; you truly are a worthy mate; and I can’t wait to prove that to the world. Well, I suppose I should prepare for a welcome.” 

“Lilah!” He snapped, knowing that bitch was someplace in the penthouse. She insisted, for some annoying reason, on keeping close to her ‘project.’ For the moment it suited Angelus’ purposes and amused him to see her scurrying about. However, he had no doubt that eventually Wolfram & Hart would tire of Angelus’ machinations on behalf of himself and not them and demand he dance to their tune. 

When that time came Angelus would laugh long and loud and dance in their blood instead. 

“Jesus, Angelus, couldn’t actually walk into the next room, had to yell?” She was impeccably dressed and if she was scared shitless, it didn’t show in her outward appearance. 

“Buffy’s coming to LA, I don’t want her harmed or stopped or even looked at. She’s mine, understand?” He looked over his shoulder at that question to see her nod of acceptance before turning back to his window view. “Most likely she’s coming with Faith; I don’t care what happens to her. Any harm comes to Buffy, though, and you’ll wish the Senior Partners got to you first.” 

Swallowing, Lilah nodded again. Then, because his back was to her, she said, “Of course, Angelus. Do you know when she’ll be arriving?” Christ, it was like planning a soiree instead of a literal world-wide takeover. 

“Soon, next couple of days, doesn’t matter, just be ready.” 

He ignored her as she left, still smiling at the streets below. “Welcome to my city, lover, the City of Angelus; I do so hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”
~~~~~~~~~~
He had many names, many fears associated with that name. 

The Beast was as good as any of them and inspired that fear he loved so. The name implied a faceless enemy, something that was so horrible as to be unnamable. He didn’t care; really, he did his job, pleased his master, and was handsomely rewarded for his work. He could share, if the partner was worthy of such, and this one most certainly was. 

“You have done well, my pet,” It said, the face of the blonde slayer firmly in place. “You are my most prized servant and shall be rewarded as such.” 

“Thank you, my liege, I am yours to command.” 

It nodded, touching his shoulder briefly to signal him to stand. “You are comfortable with sharing with Angelus?” 

“He is a most worthy opponent, but an even greater ally.” 

“Yes, yes he is, isn’t he? Go to him, my pet, and offer him your services. Report to me all you learn, but feel free to tell him of your allegiance.” 

“As you wish my liege.” He said and stood, walking to the portal that connected the Hellmouth with any point in the world; made for easier travel that way. 

“My pet, wait.” It said, turning back to the Beast. “What do you think of Spike?” 

“A weakling, my liege, though potentially useful; his soul isn’t as strong as Angelus’ he doesn’t have the same convictions. He might, however, be useful; he wants to be something, wants a respect that shall never be his. He believes that by helping the slayer he will gain this respect, this something he craves. Perhaps his Sire can be of help. She was what he lived for until coming to the Hellmouth.” 

“Thank you, my pet, thank you. You may leave, seek out Angelus and tell him.” The Beast left and It took Its time walking through the tunnels to where It had chained the vampire. Drusilla, of course. Bring in the real thing; and wouldn’t she just love the fact that Angelus was back and taking over. 

Summoning a harbinger, It said, “Find the vampiress they call Drusilla, childe of Angelus. I want her brought here within the day and I want no excuses. Tell her of Angelus return and of Spike’s…need of her.” 

The blind harbinger nodded and left, taking with him several of his comrades. It watched for a moment before walking back to Spike again in the guise of ‘Tara.’ 

“Soon, my dear Spike,” It said, caressing his bruised cheek, “Soon it shall all be over and the world shall be mine.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Connor sat on the bed and tried to concentrate. 

He wasn’t much for meditating, but his thoughts were awhirl and nothing made sense to him any more. Good, evil, bad, not so much so. Holtz had never explained the various shades that came with life. When he was young there hadn’t been any, yet now, now all the boy found were shades.

Souls, lack thereof, it didn’t seem to matter, humans were raping and pillaging their streets just as much as the vampires that came out at night. And he was stuck in here, this luxurious prison that his father commanded. 

How was he to save them, how was he to defeat his father, kill his father, and save his so-called friends? And Cordelia? He knew Angelus raped her, repeatedly, and there was nothing he could do about it…but the worst was that sometimes her screams were of passion, not pain. 

“Don’t worry about it, lad, that isn’t your fight.” 

Connor’s eyes popped open and he scrambled off the bed into a defensive position. The man before him was shorter than he was but held himself with a dignity rarely seen; his eyes sparkled a friendly blue and his posture was non-threatening.

”Who are you?” 

“A friend, lad, just a friend.” Pushing away from the dresser where he had been leaning, he walked a few paces forward. “Name’s Doyle, Allen Francis Doyle. Used to know your father, Cordelia, too, way back in the day.” He stuck his hand out in a friendly gesture and Connor was too stunned to do anything but take it. 

“You knew my father?”

“Oh, yeah, great person, had a few problems, of course, and an unquenchable love for a certain slayer, but then I guess nothing’s changed, has it?” 

At Connor’s blank look Doyle shook his head, dismissing. “Never mind, that’s not why I’m here. It’s not your battle, lad, you have a different one to fight.” 

“What are you talking about?” Curiosity was mixed with doubt. 

“You think it’s your job to protect your friends from Angelus, but its not. You are the yin and the yang, Connor, boy. The balance between the light and the dark. Without you there would be no war and yet, perversely, without you the world would fall into entropy; chaos would rule.” 

That got the boy’s attention. “You know who I am, what I am?” 

Doyle laughed and sat on the bed facing the window. “You are that which darkness fears and light shies away from, Connor, the ultimate balance between good and evil. The Powers That Be want to use you for Their own purposes yet the First Evil wants to exploit you for Its bidding. You must choose, Connor, you must choose your own path, let yourself be your own guide. You are it, lad, you are the only thing standing in the path of destruction.”

With that the strange man was gone – was he even a man? No, Connor didn’t think so he didn’t smell human, not entirely at least. Who was he? He knew Angel? And Cordelia? Wondering if there was a way to speak with the seer, Connor took a step towards the door.

And fell off his bed where he had fallen asleep. Blinking at his surroundings, disoriented, he heard Doyle’s voice. “You must chose, lad, let no one else do it for you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

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