Parking the car he had…liberated from its previous owner, Giles climbed out of the convertible and walked slowly up the marble steps to the door. Turning before he reached the doors, he sat on the step instead to stare out at the night sky. Not much had changed in LA in the intervening years. Celebrities came and went, buildings were erected and demolished, vampires, demons, and other various forces of darkness still thrived in the so called city of angels. 

Unlike Sunnydale, LA had not been built atop a Hellmouth and subsequently had not (yet) been destroyed. Earthquakes were more common than before, but that could have been due more to the shifting plates than the ongoing wars. There had been a scientific rumor several years ago as to the probability of LA and her surrounding communities falling into the Pacific Ocean in the coming millennia…maybe, just to be on the safe and dry side of things (though the chances of it actually happening in the next several thousand years was possible but slim) they should seriously consider moving their headquarters someplace else. 

Still, that was a long way off and of no immediate concern. The stars began to wink out as he continued to sit on the steps and Giles could feel the approach of the sun like a remembered lover. Sometimes, when he really thought about it, Giles missed the sun. The warmth and the light and the sheer energy it emitted just by rising and setting every day. Granted the positive outweighed the negative as per his change but, he reasoned, he was still allowed to feel nostalgic once in a while. If he could feel emotion for Buffy and Willow, then he could feel so for his past and the few small things he gave up when Buffy turned him. 

He only had a few moments left, but refused to enter the house until the last possible second. It wasn’t a death wish, nor even any great desire to see the sun rise once more. No, this was just a moment where it was him and the world and nothing and no one there. He didn’t mind his family that wasn’t it at all; he had always just preferred to have time set aside that was solely his. 

As the first golden rays spilled over the land, Giles stood and walked into the house. He had realized what it was they were missing. 

Walking to the basement where he sensed Buffy and Angelus, Giles pondered the best time to implement his plan. He and Angelus had discussed the best way to present Buffy to the demon world and had agreed that a ball was probably the way to do so. But now was the time; they couldn’t afford to wait any longer. 

As he entered the wine cellar, though it should have probably been renamed ‘torture chamber’, Giles admired Lilah’s torso. Angelus truly was a master artist and this only proved that point. Lilah, for her part, had passed out from the pain and blood loss. 

“Nice representation, Angelus,” Giles said as he moved closer to examine the finer details of Buffy’s portrait. Considering the canvas and the tools used, it truly was a wonderful piece. 

Angelus smirked, pleased with himself. “I know. I doubt she’ll survive much longer, those cuts just aren’t healing as they should.” He didn’t sound all that upset about that prospect. 

Buffy snorted, “That’s probably because I dipped the scalpel in anti-coagulant before you started.” 

Giving her an appreciative look, Angelus continued to clean his canvas, the better to see his work. Buffy had moved closer to him, watching as he cleaned various areas of Lilah’s skin. Yes, her lover did amazing work. 

“I’ve been thinking of that little matter we discussed earlier, Angelus.” Giles waited but a moment before the older vampire turned his attention from Buffy to him, “The coming out ball?” At Angelus’ nod, Giles nodded back and went over to toy with a barely conscious Faith; it was almost scary how often he and Angelus agreed on things. “Yes, I think it should be sooner rather than later. Both Paul and Damon now know of your return, not to mention Buffy’s new state and her connection to you. It’s only a matter of time before they tell their allies and word spreads.” 

“When do you suggest?” It wasn’t often – okay, this may have been the first time in recorded history – but Angelus was known for asking the advice of others when he felt it warranted. In this case he, too, realized how closely Giles’ plans meshed with theirs and how much they thought alike. Sure, in a few hundred years he may have to kill his mate’s mentor, but there was plenty of time for that; for now, he’d listen to the younger vampire. 

“Two weeks, tops. I believe Damon will probably plan something during then; either before the ball or during it, if he’s as rash as both you and Spike suggest. He’ll most likely go after Buffy, thinking her your weakness.” There was no need, in the group that was present, to confirm that fact and Giles didn’t bother. “It’ll be the perfect motivation to kill him.” He thought about that last statement for a moment then amended, “Not that you need one, but it’ll serve as an example to anyone else thinking of challenging you.” 

“What of Paul?” Buffy asked as she joined the discussion. It wasn’t that they had left her out of it, she had already known their plans – Angelus kept nothing a secret from her any more – but it was already something she had figured on her own. Giles had just confirmed it. 

“By that time, love, I’ll have discussed matters with him a bit more. I’ve no intention of filling him in on our plans, he doesn’t need to know those yet or at all even, but he’s not stupid. He’ll have figured out something more was going on. Throwing small bits of information his way will go a long way towards appeasing him.” 

Buffy nodded, agreeing with their assessment of the situation. Paul was integral to the beginning stages of their plan. He was both powerful and influential – not necessarily the same things – and would be a valuable ally in the coming years. With his contacts and associates he possessed everything they’d need to not only forcibly reenter the demon world – they could have handled that themselves – but to also earn a measure of respect as their years fighting the forces of darkness had tainted them. But he was most definitely not a part of their group. 

Family first and all. 

Angelus was just about to finish up with Lilah – should he do something about that incessant bleeding or just leave her be? – and adjourn to their bedroom with his mate when he felt a faint tingling in his blood. It usually meant that one of his childer was near so at first he assumed it was Spike, returning home from wherever it was he had gone off to after leaving Willow with Paul; his boy was cutting it a bit close. But the closer it got, the more he was convinced it was something else. 

And then that something else walked in the door, swaying in time to a tune only she heard. 

 Swinging her head in the direction the faint voice had uttered, “Angel,” Buffy growled low and menacingly; her face shifted and her fingers extended into claws. Of all the vampires in the world Drusilla ranked only under Darla in ones she hated the most – well there were several others, but they were all dead and ashes now. Before she could react, however, Spike stepped in front of Drusilla, not that it would have done any good had Buffy wanted to get to the other woman, but he tried. 

“She says she came with a message.” Spike, being no fool (when it came to things other than love that was) directed his comment to both Angelus and Buffy. 

Angelus nodded and walked closer to his mate. It wouldn’t do any good for her to kill his childe before they heard the message; besides, he had a small fondness for Drusilla. Actually, considering she was his obsession for a good number of years, that should have been a little larger. But, he reasoned as Dru floated from out behind Spike to stand in front of the group at large, he had Buffy now and that was truly all he had ever wanted. 

“She’s coming,” Drusilla said, mostly rational considering she had lost half her mind years ago. “She’s coming and you can’t stop that, but she’s coming to stop you, to spy and discover if it’s true when she already knows it is. She’s coming here, she’ll know where you are and will come looking for you.” 

Buffy suppressed another growl and asked in what she thought a reasonable voice though no one else did. “Who?” She resisted adding, ‘you crazy bitch,’ and was quite pleased about that. 

“Angel’s seer, she’ll be here, soon.” 

And with that, Buffy forgot all about her hatred of the vampire in front of her and focused solely on her former friend. Cordelia Chase was about to regret coming here, she was about to regret a great many things, actually. Maybe, if she could keep her hands off Buffy’s mate, Buffy would indeed let Drusilla stay indefinitely. They were all family, after all. 

Looking at Angelus, a wicked gleam in her eye and a depraved smile on her face, Buffy answered his silent question. Yes, Drusilla could stay; Giles was here after all and he and Angelus certainly had no love lost between them. But that wasn’t what had finally dissuaded Buffy from staking her at some later point. The message was all well and good, true, and she had actually delivered it, also true, plus there was the fact that she was Angelus’ childe and a favored one – though Buffy couldn’t understand why – at that. 

No that wasn’t what swayed Buffy. 

It was when Drusilla floated over to her, smiled what certainly seemed a genuine smile to all present, and knelt before the couple. Taking Buffy’s left hand in both of hers, Drusilla kissed the knuckles, touched the palm to her head, placed Buffy’s hand, palm down, over her long dead heart, and locked eyes with the diminutive blonde. 

“I hereby pledge my life and my fealty to you, Joined Mate to my Sire. My life is yours to do with as you please, my loyalty to you and he and our Clan, and if ever I raise a hand against you in rebellion I ask you allow me to die, staked to the ground, to await the kiss of dawn’s first light.” Removing Buffy’s hand from her breast, Drusilla kissed the knuckles again and joined her hand with Angelus’ right one, sealing the vow. 

Everyone present was shocked speechless. Drusilla’s pledge was the ultimate in declaring one’s loyalty; once given it could never be repealed. If broken every vampire within a thousand mile radius would turn out to see her punishment. Effectively, she had just declared that whatever happened in the past was null and void and whatever was to come in the future she would stand by not only her clan, but Buffy as well.
************
Drusilla was not a stupid woman.

She was insane, there was no denying that, but stupidity just wasn’t part of her. True, she wasn’t as cunning as Angelus or as good at strategically planning things out as Buffy, but she was as vicious as they came – look who her Sire and former mate were – and she was loyal. When presented with the option of never seeing her family again or accepting Buffy as Angelus chosen and bound mate, Drusilla did the only thing she could: She accepted.

On the train ride from New York Harbor to Los Angeles she had thought long and hard about her decision; she wasn’t used to sharing Angelus with anyone other than family and Buffy had been not only their sworn and hated enemy but also a thorn in Drusilla’s side for far too many years now. It had taken travel through several forgotten mid-western states to make her realize that the only way she was going to retain any of her sire – and hence her family – was to recognize Buffy as a part of that family.

The oath, if she did say so herself, was the hallmark of her acquiescence. 

True, it was a fairly well known if rarely used oath given by members of clans to their masters, vowing their lives and childer to the whole. So, in effect, she had accepted Buffy as well as Angelus as her master and sire. Drusilla had worried all through Colorado if she would be able to keep to the promise, but figured, about the time they crossed the Rocky Mountains, it was well worth it. Whatever the two had planned, and she knew it to be something big, it was sure to keep her entertained for years to come.

Now, as she stood back up and faced her Sire and his mate, Drusilla nodded at them; yes, it had been the right thing to do. Even William and that Watcher were shocked and it took a lot to do that.

No one had moved or said a word in the several ticking seconds since she finished her speech when something caught Dru’s attention out of the corner of her eye, an energy that beckoned her. Turning to the chained prisoners, Dru cooed at the youngest. She glowed brightly, swirls of colors and lights and sparkles that captured the imagination and invoked all kinds of ideas. Moving slowly and gracefully towards her prey, Dru lifted the girl’s head and looked into her glazed over eyes.

”Ooh, a sister to play with; so many pretty colors and possibilities here. Can I keep her, mummy?”

Buffy had watched the entire scene play out with something close to amusement; when Drusilla had asked her question, ending with ‘mummy,’ Buffy had to struggle not to show her shock. It wasn’t the question that threw her but the title Buffy had suddenly acquired. How on earth was she to answer that?

Angelus, sensing her struggle though neither said anything, answered instead. “We are keeping her, Dru. But” he added as a thought suddenly occurred to him, “Maybe you can take care of her.” Drusilla would be the perfect candidate for seeing to the needs of Dawn; she obviously wanted her, though they’d have to stress the ‘no snacking’ aspect and would see to her needs far more diligently than any of the rest of them wanted to; they were seriously annoyed with her lack of response to their little games. Yes, an all around perfect arrangement. 

Buffy looked at her lover, smiling at him and echoing his unspoken words. “Perfect,” she murmured as she realized his plan. If she didn’t have to take care of her sister any longer then she’d accept anyone into their family. The girl was seriously beginning to grate on her nerves; even though her whining had ceased she had now adopted that vacant look that irked Buffy so very much. 

Suddenly Dru squealed and changed the subject again; so many things to see and do and say that she had almost, in all the excitement, forgotten her gift to her new mummy. Giggling at her thoughts, Dru acknowledged that there were worse things than having Buffy as a mummy; Darla could be back, again, making all their lives hell. Though Drusilla had to admit that having Darla as a ‘childe’ was one of her few real pleasures these past few years, in the end it had been more trouble than it – or she – was worth. 

“Spike, my sweet, can you bring down mummy’s little gift?” She turned to her former and soon to be again lover, smiling at him as she asked. She had captured the gift hours before Spike had wandered to the Hyperion following the prickling in his blood he couldn’t deny. Dru had known what she had to do and that her present would be most welcomed. 

Nodding, with a wicked gleam in his eye for he knew exactly how Buffy would take this gift, Spike walked back up the stairs, to grab the offering they had left bound and gagged in the library. He hadn’t moved from his position on the thickly carpeted the floor in the brief time the vampire family had been occupied, too frightened to think straight, too secure in his binds to truly escape, and too shocked that these people were taking him to see Buffy to do much of anything, really. 

Scant moments later, though it was enough time for Angelus to come to a conclusion on Lilah – her torment wasn’t quite finished, there were still wonderful things to do to her, physically and mentally, so he and Giles stopped her bleeding – Spike returned with Drusilla’s gift. 

A disheveled Hank Summers.

Buffy gasped in shock and perverse pleasure at seeing her father for the first time in…entirely too many years for her to remember. If she really concentrated, she could have probably recalled the last time her absentee father had bothered to make an appearance in her life, but that required energy she was unwilling to expend on the worthless man. She watched as his eyes bugged, his breath increased, and he tried to say something around the gag that was firmly in place. 

And that was before he saw his surroundings. 

When he finally focused on something other than his daughter, he noticed the woman who had abducted him, the man who brought him down here, and two other males both with a menacing and predatory gleam in their eye. Upon further inspection, he noticed the three hanging and obviously tortured women who barely noticed the presence of another ‘guest.’ 

One looked like Dawn, but what was his other daughter doing here, trussed up like that? And staring blankly at the scene around her? And with that crazy woman who had kidnapped him fussing over her? And with Buffy just looking on? 

And what on earth was she wearing? Leather pants that were entirely too tight and…a blood red halter top? It barely covered her; it certainly wasn’t decent to wear in public. What could she have been thinking? Hank knew that his child had always worn tight clothes, but this was just ridiculous. 

He really didn’t like the look the tall dark man was giving his daughter, either; it looked as if he wanted to do things that Hank was sure Buffy was still entirely too young to do. Though the look she sent over his shoulder at him belied that. Then again, Hank really didn’t like the look the man was giving him, Hank, either; somehow it just didn’t bode well for his continued health and wellbeing.

He tried, in his best ‘I’m the father voice’ to ask just what in all that was holy – not his best choice of words, considering – was going on here. It would have worked, too, at least the sounds emanating from his throat would have formed words, had the gag – a dirty rag that he was sure had come from the alleyway he had been tossed in as that crazy bitch had sung lullabies to him – still not been firmly in place. 

As it was, the only noise that Hank made were gurgling ones that sounded healthier on a dieing heifer. 

“Look, baby, its dad.” Buffy said, sarcasm oozing out of her voice as she sauntered over to where Hank stood, still trying, despite his obviously inferior position, to look unafraid and superior. 

Giles walked slowly forward to stand behind the bound man. He hated Hank Summers far more than he ever would Angelus; at least the older vampire cared for and most likely loved Buffy. Hank had a wonderful daughter whom he had repeatedly ignored and shunned throughout the years as though any reminder from his previous life was just a bad memory and a nuisance. Buffy deserved better, she had deserved someone who had at least acknowledged that he had a daughter. 

But Giles had no doubt that Hank would not be turned, for she had found that father in him. 

“My father,” and again the noun was mocking, “Has suddenly remembered that he has a child. How ironic that it should be now.” 

Turning to the vampiress who had brought her this wonderful gift, Buffy grinned. Okay, maybe the oath had gone a truly long way towards her accepting Drusilla back into their lives and their family, but this…this was just…neat. That didn’t mean that Buffy was sharing Angelus, ever, but as far as she was concerned, Dru was hers now. 

“Drusilla, I’m sincerely touched that you have brought me this wonderful gift.” She walked over to where the other vampire still stood guard over Dawn. Angelus had taught her a lot about vampire customs and traditions and she was about to put that knowledge to good use.

Clasping Dru’s hands in hers, Buffy kissed both her cheeks and then her mouth before letting her face change. Sinking her fangs into the other’s neck, first one side then the other, and drawing just enough blood to seal the bond, Buffy pulled back and said, “With this I claim you, with this I take you.” 

Angelus looked on with something akin to, well, pride. He knew that his relationship with Drusilla would never go back to the way it had been; not only did he doubt Buffy’s willingness to share, but he had no desire to ever leave her bed. But to have his mate accept his childe – and one she hated above all others – sparked something in him that was suspiciously like yes, pride.

It was so nice to see his family coming back together. 

Hank Summers had, by this time, lost all control of himself and his bodily functions. Never, not even in his worst nightmare, had he ever expected anything like this to happen. Or to even exist. There were things one heard, rumors that seemed to fly every other day, but he was such a busy man that he just didn’t have time for that sort of nonsense. 

Joyce had mentioned, briefly, that Buffy had changed for the better, and that she was doing…something or other that was for the good of the world (fate of the world, were those her words? Hank was suddenly wishing he had paid more attention to his ex – and now dead wife.) Hank had assumed that his daughter had joined the Peace Corps or became a missionary or was feeding the homeless or something. 

This wasn’t on his list. 

Though what this was he had no idea. What had just happened to her face? 

Before he could even think of forming the words, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t make himself heard anyway, the man behind him forcefully pushed Hank towards the far wall. Stumbling to his knees, Hank tried to right himself but was firmly kicked, several times, in the ribs before he made it to his feet again. By the time he was turned around and untied, Buffy was being…mauled by that tall dark and menacing man; though she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. 

For a moment less than a second, Hank thought that he was free. He realized he wasn’t before the thought was even finished. Chains surrounded him, clasping his hands to the wall just high enough to force him to stand straight. His ankles were lock tightly to the wall so that he couldn’t move at all; no leeway was given and he wondered just what they had planned.
As he watched his daughter turn in the arms of what could only be her lover, attacking his mouth with a passion that shocked him, Hank Summers realized that his nightmare had only just begun.
************
Tearing herself away from her lover’s passionate and comforting embrace, Buffy turned towards Giles as he debated pounding on Hank a few more times. For having never personally met the man, Giles hated him with a fierceness that showed clearly on his human face. Still, it wasn’t his place to thrash the deadbeat father to within an inch of his miserable life. But he’d take great pleasure in watching Buffy do so. 

With a walk that could only be described as stalking her prey, Buffy moved to stand in front of her father. Dismissing that word from her mind completely, Buffy said, “So, Hank, like your new home?” He didn’t answer, mostly because he couldn’t, so Buffy smiled at him understanding, solicitous, and considerate in a completely mocking way. “Oh, that’s right, you can’t answer. Here, let me take that horrible rag out of your mouth.”

She did so; casually throwing it on the floor in front of him and patiently waited his answer. When none was immediately forthcoming, Buffy tapped his cheeks lightly asking again. “I asked you a question, Hank. I expect an answer; in fact, I demand one.” 

Working his mouth for a few minutes, mostly go form some saliva, he was scared out of his wits and the gag had done nothing to keep moisture in his mouth, Hank croaked, “I am your father, Buffy…” 

With a sad shake of her head Buffy disagreed, “No, actually, you aren’t. Haven’t been in a long, long while. If you had been, then you’d know what’s been going on in my life and you’d be a hell of a lot more scared than you are. Don’t listen to the news much, do you, Hank.” She took every opportunity to say his given name rather than the title he thought he still deserved; she wanted to let him know how little regard she had for him. 

“However, I have better things to do at the moment than inform you.” With a fist to the stomach that would have doubled the man over had the chains not been holding him up so tightly, Buffy turned back to her family as she said, “Ask the others, if they can talk yet, and I’m sure they’d be happy to fill you in on the things you missed the past few years. Oh, and Dawn? You know, that other child you’ve so conveniently forgotten? Ask about her, too. I bet you’ll find some interesting facts about her life.” 

Whistling a jaunty tune, her day was looking up, she walked to her lover and together, without a backward glance despite Hank Summers’ vehement shouts, they left the cellar the rest of their family following. 

Angelus suppressed the growl that had been building the moment he realized who Dru’s present was. No one, absolutely no one hurt his mate and lived. He was the only on allowed to mete out punishment, the only one allowed to do anything to her with the possible exception of worshiping her: that was reserved for everyone they were about to conquer. 

But this was her father and as such, hers to do with as she pleased.

Unfortunately for Hank, he was made to wait and contemplate his newfound status. His imagination, so recently sparked, was suddenly up to the task. 

It was late and the group in general had other things they wished to do; Hank Summers wasn’t high on their priorities just then. Lilah’s bleeding had slowed enough so that her life wasn’t in immediate danger – from blood loss at least. Dawn was still hanging in her torn and filthy clothes staring blankly at her surroundings. 

Faith had regained consciousness just as they were chaining Hank to the wall and renewed her struggles for freedom. Buffy speculated and Giles agreed that some latent slayer instinct had taken over and was the real cause of Faith’s rejuvenated energy. But they left her alone, Giles figuring that she could do nothing and it would only increase her pain at not being able to help an ‘innocent.’ 

Retiring to the library, the group – now including Drusilla – began to discuss their future actions. Giles looked at the recent addition and wondered how Drusilla’s appearance would affect Spike’s relationship – or whatever they were calling it – with Willow. Speaking of the witch, it was obvious she was staying the day with Paul. Somehow, Giles wasn’t surprised. 

Giles spoke first as Spike poured them all some wine. “I still say that within the next two weeks an announcement should be made concerning Buffy in general and the two of you in particular. A ball of some sort to publicize your Joining and let it be known that the both of you are no longer fighting for the side of light.” 

Angelus agreed as he sampled the beverage, “Yes, you’re right, Giles. For the past few months we’ve been too quiet, not many know of our return. And only Paul, discrete as he is, knows of out Joining.” He paused as Buffy settled herself on his lap, sipping from her own glass, “We could hold it here, have Willow block off the cellar and the library.” Most of their prized books were in the library and it wouldn’t do for just anyone to wander in and start to browse. 

“Plus we’ll have to plan the guest list; I’m sure we could do that fine on our own, but power structures may have changed more so than I remember, Paul’s input might be required. I think I’ll leave Damon until then, too. Public humiliation is so much more exhilarating for all involved.” 

At the mention of a vampire she thought long dead, Drusilla sat up from where she lounged over the settee near Giles, growling. “He’s still alive?”

Spike nodded, grim faced over the reminder that they had failed so many years ago. “Yeah, pet, not sure how it happened, but he’s business partners with Paul Stewart now.” 

Dru scowled and retreated back to herself; obviously no one liked the older vampire. Giles looked at the crazy vampiress and then back at Buffy. She had accepted Drusilla much faster than he anticipated though that could have been due to her father’s unexpected presence. Still, Giles had to wonder at that. Or not, considering the way Angelus had barely looked at his childe. Good then, he’d really hate to have to kill Angelus. 

So this was his family now; at least he’d never be bored with them around. 

Family…the word reminded, incongruous though it seemed, of something Drusilla had said when she first arrived. “Drusilla, you mentioned something about Cordelia arriving?” 

Dreamily the vampiress nodded and swayed on the couch, “Yes, soon. She comes slowly, she knows what awaits yet does not believe. She has never believed.” 

Giles just nodded, understanding only a portion of what she had actually said. Still it was enough to know that Cordelia was close by, probably in Sunnydale at the moment, and making her way here. If she knew that Angelus was back and that Buffy had been killed or turned, then why go to all the trouble of verifying it? Unless that’s what Drusilla’s last words meant; that Cordelia had never believed anything she hadn’t seen and even then it took convincing. 

“She’ll find us soon enough, I have no doubt of that; she never did know when to quit or when to shut up for that matter,” Giles said, keeping an eye on Buffy as he did so. When she had discovered Angel’s affair with Cordelia ‘ballistic’ wasn’t too strong a word to describe what she had done, how she had reacted. Now, despite the fact that she and Angelus were inseparable and he obviously had no interest in the other woman, Giles had no doubt that Buffy wasn’t going to deal with her former friend’s arrival very well. 

“We should concentrate more on the next stage of our plan; the ball is only the beginning, we also need to prove that our words are true. Angelus has a reputation for viciousness; Spike and Drusilla are closely associated with him and have made their own reputations over the years. Buffy is known as the fiercest warrior and slayer the world has ever seen, all this in and of itself should be enough. If, between now and then, we can gather enough minions to our side, that’ll be good, but Angelus, we need to work on securing our partnership with Stewart; that’s our biggest point.” 

Angelus nodded, his hand absently playing with Buffy’s ring, turning the circle around and watching as it flashed in the light. “I’ll set up another meeting with him, in a few days. Give him a chance to think things over, get to know Willow.” 

Spike flinched at those words, but said nothing. There was nothing to say and everyone knew it. Drusilla lazily turned her head to look at her former lover; she’d make him for get the silly witch soon enough. 

Taking Buffy’s hand, Angelus led her out of the room without saying another word. As they ascended the stairs, quietly and still hand in hand, he thought about what the reappearance of her father would do to her. He was willing to bet nothing, Hank Summers had been out of her life for far to long for it to make a difference now. 

Still, he better than anyone, understood the need of parental approval. While she had Giles, whom was considered by everyone except Hank as her father, there was the possibility of a lingering thread between the biological father/daughter. If that thread wasn’t cut before Hank’s death, it would haunt her for the rest of her existence. 

“What do you want to study today, my love?” 

Angelus looked at her as they entered their rooms. She usually called him Angelus or baby; sometimes love, but rarely that particular endearment, ‘my love.’ Maybe seeing her father had upset her more than he thought. Changing his mind from a comparison between Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates, he said, “Your father.” 

Surprised, even as she curled into his lap for comfort, Buffy asked, “Why? Or,” she said, smiling, “Did you mean study him as we eviscerated him?” 

“No, pleasurable though that seems. I meant I think we should talk about Hank and how his sudden appearance affected you.” What had come over him? Talking about his feelings, worse yet, asking about hers? Whipped, he was truly whipped; what a disgrace he’d become.

“Actually, I feel nothing for him. Oh, seeing him brought back things, but he hasn’t had any part of my in entirely too long, there’s nothing there.” Pausing, thinking about her words, Buffy amended, “Well, this deep-seated need to enact revenge on him, but that’s pretty much it.” 

“You need to break any tied still there; you can’t kill him without doing so.” Thinking back to his own family Angelus wished that he had taken the time to torture them a bit. He still would have killed them, not doing so wasn’t even an option, but for a long time his father’s words, actions, haunted him. Darla was right, damn her black heart. 

“Hmm, maybe.” She didn’t want to think about Hank, she didn’t want to think at all. Even though they had agreed that for four hours each morning Angelus would tutor her in anything she needed to know, right now all she wanted was him. The comfort and reassurance she found – had always found – in his embrace. 

Straddling his hips and leaning down to capture his mouth with hers, Buffy didn’t care about absentee fathers or history or traditions or anything but her lover, his arms, his mouth, his taste and scent and feel. “I need you, Angelus. I need you now, so very much.” 

And Angelus understood, he understood all too well. Not responding, he lifted her off his lap and laid her underneath him, slowly striping the clothes she wore, tasting every inch of exposed flesh. He debated briefly tying her to the bed, but that wasn’t what she needed. Maybe later they’d indulge in that, but now was for something else. Something that was just the two of them.

So he worshipped her body, letting her know without words how he adored her. Lips blazed a path over skin cool to the touch, hands trailed whenever they could reach, soft and giving, hard and demanding. Giving her what she wanted and what she really needed. For she didn’t need the softness that came so infrequently between them, she needed to know that she was wanted, desired, and for them, that was fast, rough, intense, explosive. 

Hands tangled in her hair, pinning her head beneath his lips as he ravished her mouth, plundering the richness there. Hands clasped wrists as he explored familiar curves and valleys, tasting and teasing and occasionally drawing just a bit of blood. Finally he plunged two fingers into her waiting sheath, groaning with her as she clamped around him. 

Her body was caught in a never-ending wave of orgasmic pleasure, one peak would stop and another follow, too close to distinguish. His name was a shout, a whisper, a growl, a plea, but it was always his name. Buffy didn’t even realize that Angelus had released her hands; she was gripping the headboard too tightly in a vain effort to ground herself as her lover’s body pleasured her. 

And finally, finally he entered her, his hard length filling her, his lips never leaving hers, his hands gripping tightly to her hands as they moved together. In and out he thrust, no longer able to control his movements with the incredibly powerful need for release, for completion with his mate. 

His face had changed seconds, minutes, hours ago as fangs scraped over sensitive skin, but he did not drink from her, not yet. Her mouth was clamped on his dead artery taking long pulls from his body, but still he held out, prolonging, prolonging…she released his neck and found his mouth, a mouthful of blood still in hers. He drank from her lips, tasting his blood which was irrevocably mixed with hers there.

Breaking the kiss, he shouted her name, too many emotions interlaced there to accurately identify one. Then he, too, drank from her, sealing their bond, reaffirming their commitment. 

Reaffirming their love.
************
Willow’s sleep was deep, the literal sleep of the dead.

She had spent the better part of the night in the club, dancing, drinking and feeding, alternatively with Paul and without him. As the owner, he had certain obligations to fulfill, people to see, people to throw out, the little night to night things that are inherent with running your own business. She hadn’t minded the lack of company, nor had Willow minded when Paul rejoined her. 

It just was; nothing more, nothing less. She was right about him, in the sack he was amazing. Thoughtful of her yet strong and powerful, too. He never minded when Willow wanted to take control of their coupling, yet he was definitely not subservient. Everything she could have ever wanted in a lover Paul fit, absolutely. 

Oddly enough, though, Willow had found herself missing Spike. It was strange as she hadn’t minded this assignment when it was first presented, but now that the situation was fact, she found herself wishing that there had been another way. 

Paul was funny, sly, witty, and intelligent. Rarely had she found another to equal her thirst for knowledge. She almost asked him if, in his previous life, he had been a watcher; the ones of her personal acquaintance were the only others to want to know as much as she. But she hadn’t, instead enjoying his company as much as she did his body. 

She had danced to the pulsing beat of the music and the more subtle one of the rare human hearts that littered the dance floor. The poor humans, they had no idea what the club truly held in store for them; one or two were protected, marked as slaves or subordinates to several of the vampires that enjoyed the atmosphere. 

That still left enough to feast on, and Willow indulged herself several times. It wasn’t as exhilarating as hunting, or even as invigorating as draining their life energy to fuel her own magicks – which she did, limiting herself to once a week – but it was something. 

Paul had found her at the height of the crowd and backed her up against the wall, attacking her mouth and neck hungrily. Drinking from each other was strictly forbidden, her Sire had not allowed it and Willow was loath to let just anyone drink from her. Yet it didn’t hinder their enjoyment of sex one iota. 

It was a relatively darkened corner where they found themselves, aroused and more than ready for the other. Willow’s pants had been shed, thrown to the floor in their haste. It was fast and brutal and so very public that neither had lasted long. When it was over, Paul had given her a slow kiss and promised to find her again, soon. 

He had, and each time they joined it was wild and violent, satisfying and enjoyable and Willow always wanted more. And yet…as she lay in the massive bed, safely tucked away from the morning sun, Willow missed Spike.
~~~~~~~~
Four hours before dusk, Willow felt herself snap awake. Instantly recognizing whose lips trailed over her spine, she relaxed under his expert touch, enjoying the feeling of his tongue and fangs as they tasted every inch of her. She allowed herself to be turned over and the same methodical treatment was given to her breasts, belly, sex. 

No, Paul wasn’t Spike, but he was very good… 

Several hours later, as Willow showered and donned one of Paul’s shirts – she hadn’t a change of clothes with her – she debated what was going to happen next. She had enjoyed herself, there was no denying that. She and Paul had found something in common other than the mutual lust that had simmered beneath the surface since their initial meeting. 

She needed to get home; for one she had no clean clothes, and for another their first minions were rising this night and she wanted to help train them in the fine art of feeding, hunting, and cleaning. Laughing silently at that last Willow wondered if any of the others felt that it was the most important job the minions were to have. They had all tired of living in the messiness that had become their home yet didn’t want to be the ones to clean it. 

Waking towards his office, she buttoned only the bottom few buttons, just enough to prevent the shirt from flapping open. Expanding both her magickal and vampiric senses, Willow detected no one but Paul there and entered with only a light knock on the partially opened door. He, too, was freshly showered, his hair still wet, bare chested with soft linen slacks and bare feet. 

Unconsciously licking her lips, Willow tried to dispel the images that suddenly sprang to her mind and pooled low in her belly. “Mind if I interrupt you?” 

Paul looked up, smiling at her attired. “Leaving like that, are you?” 

Shaking her head as she perched on the corner of his wide desk, Willow played with the hem of the shirt. “Like this, no, but I do need to get back. I just didn’t want to put on those dirty clothes before I had to.” 

He was still staring at her, as if waiting for her to make the next move. Mentally shrugging, Willow tilted her head and asked, “Do you want me to come back?” The shy and withdrawn Willow of the past was no more, in her place was a vampire who knew who and what she was; confidence streamed off her. 

“That, my dear, is entirely up to you.” Paul reached for her hand, pulling her onto his lap and grinding his erection against her naked sex.

Stifling a moan of pleasure, Willow shook her head though made no move to stop him. “Actually, it’s up to you. I’m more than willing to return, but if you no longer want me in your bed then all you have to do is say so.” 

Clamping blunt teeth over an exposed nipple, Paul flicked the hardened nub over and over before pulling back and saying simply, “Come back.” 

Willow looked into his eyes, so deep and blue and had to stop herself from falling into them. She found herself nodding before she realized her intent. “Yes…” Her voice trailed of as she guided his mouth to her neglected nipple, one hand slipping between their bodies to caress his bulging erection.
~~~~~~~~~
It was a little after dark before Willow found herself pulling up to the driveway that led to the mansion. Paul had had his driver take her back, letting her know that the minion – Ted, Tom, Todd, or something – was at her disposal. Wherever she wished to go, whenever she wished to return, he was there for her. 

Originally Willow had planned only on stopping long enough to grab some clothes and let everyone know what the story was. She owed it to Spike to let him know of the situation, and her Sire and mate would want to know how Paul had received her. 

It wasn’t as if she and Spike had a monogamous relationship, but they had been together a while, first when she had been human and then for the weeks after she had been turned. She felt a bond with him she had felt with no other, not Oz, not Tara, not her best friends. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t open to new things, new people. What it did mean was that she was going to tell him personally rather than have him assume when she didn’t return home. 

However, the moment she murmured the incantation to lower the barrier, allowing the car to slide through, Willow felt something different about the place. Telling the driver – Tim? – to wait with the car, she opened the door and was greeted by a sight she thought never to see.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Willow’s voice echoed around the brightly lit foyer. Moments later Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs, a resigned look on her face. 

Obviously she hadn’t wanted to have this confrontation so soon, but that was out of her hands now. “Willow…” Pausing to gather her thoughts, she was joined by Giles and Angelus. Spike was no where to be found. 

Drusilla, for her part, was simply standing there, head cocked to the side, a look of angelic peacefulness on her face as she swayed to soundless music. If Willow didn’t know better, she would have been fooled. As it was everyone present were all too aware of what lurked beneath that crazy innocent façade. 

Walking down the stairs, Buffy tried again. “Drusilla wanted to join us, she…considers us her family.” At the incredulous look on Willow’s face, Buffy smiled back. She imagined that was what her face had looked like when she had first set eyes on the vampiress again. 

“Dru had a vision about Angelus losing his soul and my turning; and about Cordelia’s impending arrival. She’s here to stay, Willow, so get used to it.” It was nice, Buffy reflected as Willow shot one last scathing look at the crazy vampiress and gracefully ascended the stairs, to not have to explain things to anyone. 

She was the Master, the Sire, and as such her word was law. None of this ‘But why, Buffy…’ her friends had been so good at when she was the slayer and everyone was human. If Willow disagreed with something then she knew better to say so aloud; it wasn’t that her friend and childe was weak, no it was just that she had learned enough first from Spike then from her own experiences that to challenge one’s Sire in public, in front of other vampires, was the equivalent of saying ‘I want my life over, please make it as slow and painful as possible.’ 

So Willow nodded her acceptance though she didn’t really understand it and walked up the stairs and towards her rooms. Spike was there, waiting for her. He was chain smoking on the balcony and didn’t turn when she entered, merely tilted his head to the side and asked, “Enjoy yourself?” 

Willow had been dreading this since the plan had been conceived; his reaction. Sighing, there was nothing she could do or say that was going to make this better, Willow walked up to him, glad she had re-showered before leaving Paul’s though she doubted washing away the physical aspect had in any way masked the scent. Wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his back Willow tried to explain. 

“You know it had to be done. You know why as well as I do.” She felt him nod but still he said nothing. “I enjoyed myself, yes. Very much so. But I still…missed you.” That feeling didn’t sit well with her, but Willow was willing to accept it as part of her relationship with Spike. 

“When did Drusilla arrive?”

Flinging the butt of his cigarette out into the courtyard, Spike laughed humorlessly. “Found her just before sunrise. Found myself at Angelus’ old hotel just staring at the ruins and she walked out of the shadows. Wanted to rejoin her family. Buffy almost went ballistic but Dru offered her an oath of allegiance and a gift.”

Curious despite her hostility towards the older vampiress, Willow asked, “Present? What kind of present.” 

“The best kind, love, family. She had brought Buffy’s father as a gift. Buffy loved it, naturally; he’s in the basement now, waiting.”

Stunned, Willow in all her years had never met the elusive Hank Summers, she couldn’t help the laugh. “I imagine that’d go a long way towards Buffy accepting Dru. And…you? How do you feel about all this?” 

Turning in her arms, Spike tilted her chin to meet her eyes. “I hate it that you slept with Paul; I can still smell him on you, in you. Drusilla wants me back and a large part of me wants her as well, has always wanted her. But I want you, too.” 

Nodding, for she understood perfectly, Willow leaned up to capture his lips. “I know. Paul and I had a good time, he’s energetic and imaginative. But…I missed you, too. I’m going back tonight, I promised him. When…when I leave will you and Dru…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bring herself to say the words that were required. 

Being soulless didn’t mean being emotionless. 

“Yes. How long will you be with Paul?” 

“Just a couple of days, wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome and I don’t want to miss anything here.” 

“Speaking of here, in two weeks we’re having a little soirée. Announcing to the world that Angelus is back and has taken Buffy – the former slayer – as a Joined Mate. Damon will be taken care of then as well. Buffy told you about Cordelia?” 

Growling as she moved away from the comfort of her lover’s arms, Willow nodded. “She said something about Dru having a vision or something and that she’s on her way here.” 

“Yeah,” Spike said as he watched her pack a few articles in a duffle bag. “We figure she’s in Sunnydale now, checking either on the Hellmouth or to see if any of our former army is still there. She’ll be coming to LA soon…” He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to ask it of her or her new lover, but Spike said the words he had promised Angelus he’d ask. “Maybe have Paul put a few feelers out, see what he’s heard, we want to know when she arrives.” 

Willow nodded, zipping up the bag before turning back to him. She didn’t say anything, instead walked into his arms and kissed him fiercely. Picking up her bag, she left the room without a backwards glance, wondering at the conflicting emotions that were running through her.

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