John O’Neil had once been middle management. Walking through a park he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, too focused on his pathetic life. His fiancée had left him for men and parts unknown, claiming he hadn’t given her enough attention or excitement. She had taken not only his ring, but his dog, too. 

When the attack came, John was ill prepared despite the rumors and unofficial news bulletins that had circulated over the previous years. He wasn’t into it, but he knew that there were websites devoted to what had been going on in the world. His last thought, though, as extended teeth sank into the soft flesh around his jugular and a mocking laugh echoed in his ears, was not about the monsters that had him in their unyielding grip, but about Shaz his beloved dog. 

Upon awakening several days later, John was more than a little disoriented. A piercing hunger almost drove him back to his knees and yet there were things in the room of which he was all too aware. Scents and sounds he had never before dreamed could exist. 

In some distant part of his mind, where instinct lay and inherited behavior thrived, John knew that he had been transformed into a vampire. It all made perfect sense to the new and improved John though he didn’t stop to question why that was so or how he knew something so basic and true. His mind was consumed with hunger, his body crying out for something that he was not familiar with. 

Nostrils flaring John’s eyes, yellow and wild, spotted those hanging from the far wall. Yes, that was what he smelled, blood, life, energy…food. 

It was only a few feet to where they hung yet with the additional strength flowing through him John made it there faster than he would have thought possible. Just as he stepped the last foot he felt a surge of energy that knocked him back several feet. What was that? 

“That was merely a lesson. Next time you should think before you eat.” 

John turned to face a couple sitting in a rather large chair he had failed to notice before. The man who had spoken looked vaguely familiar, his voice one of the last memories he had of a time before this. But the woman…she held a presence over him that echoed throughout his entire being. 

Immediately recognizing his mistress, though again John had no idea how, he dropped to one knee, bowing before her. And somehow he was shaking in fear. Could it be that he knew she had the power, as his creator, to make or destroy him? Or was it simply that the sheer energy coming off her in waves was enough to drive any lesser being to his knees out of respect and deference. 

Either way he was on his knees, hoping that his newfound life, short though it had been, wasn’t about to come to a screeching end. 

“Rule number one: Always be aware of our surroundings. Never be taken off guard because you were thinking with your fangs instead of your tiny pathetic brain.” Angelus looked down with something approaching contempt at the minion kneeling at his and Buffy’s feet. Not that he objected to people bowing before him, but he preferred they be slightly stronger than the fledgling in front of them. 

“Rule number two: Never take what your masters have claimed – or wish to claim. Everyone else’s goodies are fine, but we rule here and you WILL obey us. Understood?” 

John nodded, trying to concentrate on their words and not his hunger. 

Angelus knew just how hard it was for him to stay there when fresh blood beckoned him. Truthfully it didn’t matter to the master vampire, he ruled here and what he said was law. The only person who possessed the ability to challenge him was the one and only person he trusted in this world. 

Forcing John to stay there, Angelus idly ran a hand over Buffy’s silk clad form. They were going to wait for all the fledglings rose before taking them hunting; none of them had the time or the patience to take them out individually. They didn’t wait long, within the hour the other three had arose, all with the same instinctual run towards the prisoners hanging along the wall. 

Giles, Spike, and Drusilla joined them as they left the house and Spike wished, not for the first time, that Willow was there with them.
~~~~~~~~
Cordelia Chase was not having a good day. Week, month, year, lifetime? Yeah, all of the above was the correct answer. She had once been the belle of the ball, the only opinion who mattered, the most popular girl in school. Sure, things had changed, she had changed and just about all of the time she welcomed that change. But sometimes she really wished that nothing had. 

Bad day, nothing but a bad day. 

If nothing had then she wouldn’t currently be driving south along the freeway on her way to LA looking for trouble. Maybe looking for trouble was the wrong metaphor; it was more like running head long into it? Yeah, that was it; this was pure suicide. What was she doing? Had she lost her mind? 

Bad day, nothing but a bad day. 

Yes, yes she had. What made her think that she could find anything out, find information on Angel and Buffy, on any of them, if they didn’t want her to? Sunnydale had been a huge bust there was less than nothing there; most of the town had been reduced to ruble. There were still humans there much to the shock of absolutely no one; Sunnydale had always attracted the ignorant and foolish. There was no one left in the tiny little town on top of the Hellmouth to give her any information, true, but that wasn’t what frightened her the most. 

What frightened her was that there were no demons there, either. 

Los Angeles 10 miles. 

Ten miles before she found all her fears come to life. Cordelia had always known (well, since Buffy and Willow had told her) that Angel was a vampire but except for that brief time in junior year hadn’t experienced his evil alter ego first hand. Sure, that wacko actress had unknowingly unleashed Angelus for a time and then there was Angel’s whole Darla induced breakdown. 

Okay, there were many more incidents where Angel had almost lost it, but he had always overcome the evil part of him, was never all that close to losing it. This time Cordy wasn’t so sure that was the case. This time she had a sinking feeling that the world as she knew it was about to end…if it hadn’t already. 

Los Angeles 5 miles. 

Maybe she should have stayed in Russia. If they hadn’t come after whatever remaining friends there were then maybe they were safe for the time. Whose stupid idea had it been to come to California and find out if the good guys had suddenly turned evil? Oh, wait…it had been her stupid idea. Damn it, why couldn’t she have kept her big mouth shut? 

Better yet, why couldn’t she have sent someone else? Made someone else volunteer? Something else, anything else that didn’t require her to be less than a mile from the city that she used to consider home? Maybe she should have made Connor go instead, at least as Angel’s child… 

Cordelia pulled off to the side of the road just inside LA’s borders, leaning her forehead against the cool leather of the steering wheel. How stupid was she? Angel’s child would have what? Been murdered faster? She didn’t want that, she didn’t want anything to happen to Connor or the rest of them. 

However she knew, deep inside where all her hope lay, that it was probably too late. Willow, Xander, Giles, Dawn, Spike were most likely dead, Buffy was either dead or a vampire and Cordelia had no idea if she and Angel…Angelus were together. If he stayed true to whatever form he had, and Cordelia wasn’t sure any more how well she had ever known him, then he was more interested in harming friends and family than anything else. Anything Acathla bringing, world ending. 

Cordelia only hoped, as she pulled back onto the road, that she was right. That the reason she hadn’t received a vision was because Angelus wasn’t a threat to the war they were fighting. And not that the Powers realized that they had lost this world and sending her a mind blowing vision was completely pointless.
************
Giles stared at the stack of financial papers in front of him. When Angelus said he had vast holdings he wasn’t kidding. The pile of papers was at least three inches think and that was only the overseas investments. The Americas were in a separate folder he had yet to look through. 

For such a vicious vampire intent on cutting a large bloody swath through Europe he had certainly taken the time to ensure his extravagantly high standards of living. Not that Giles was complaining considering he, too, was now living that extravagantly high lifestyle, but it just didn’t jive with the perceived image. 

Still, he had plenty of money; money that hadn’t been touched in over a hundred years and had grown despite the lack of attention given it. If Forbes counted the undead among their richest in the world, Angelus would have long outstripped Bill Gates. Lawrence Ellison wouldn’t have stood a chance and Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Alsaud would have looked like a pauper. 

The sun had reached its zenith yet Giles found himself uninterested in sleep; he had discovered that the longer he was a vampire the less he needed. Naturally he still required at least six hours, but he figured that the more powerful he became, the less he’d need. Which was perfectly alright with him, there was still too much to do to waste away the daylight hours just because of a little sunlight…harmful though it was. 

Looking through the holdings one last time, calculating the gross sum, Giles turned back to the computer. Willow had already set the required steps into motion, putting into the public records that the previous owner of the house – Dean Smith – had withdrew all of his money and transferred it to a different account: one that was owned by Angelus though the records would never show that – had to be more careful these days about legitimate holdings. 

It was also in the works that he was selling his estate to one Liam O’Connor. They had been living in the now deceased hermit’s house for some time, living off the prepaid bills and fielding any calls that may have arrived. That was what had finally set this plan into action. Willow had tried of listening to the phone ring and fired up the computer she found in the study. Several minutes later – she was still a whiz as a hacker and had all but done a jig when she found it wasn’t dialup but DSL – things had been set. 

Willow had decided and everyone had agreed – she being the best at this sort of thing – that it would look better on paper (not that she couldn’t have forged that as well) if things went by the book, so to speak, for this. Why make things overly complicated when it was unnecessary? 

“The sale is final, good. I’ll call the agent now then.” Giles said to himself as he read his email. Willow had given him a quick lesson (and then had written down detailed instructions and taped them to the computer) before they left for their first meeting with Paul. 

As he picked up the phone to dial the real estate office he thought about what he wanted to do with some of Angelus’ money. The man had enough of it to spread around, and while Giles wasn’t going to be frivolous with it, he did have definite ideas of some of it. 

Five minutes later he had agreed to meet the woman at her office tonight – after the sun set of course – for Angelus to sign the necessary papers. Some things had to be done in person. As he climbed the steps to his own bed, Giles thought about what he wanted to build with his Sire’s Mate’s money.

Sunnydale sat atop the Hellmouth, which had to be guarded. He had no intention of ever opening it, he liked this world, so many things to see and do, so many humans running around to hunt and eat. But he fancied his own little territory and the Hellmouth was the perfect area for that. A nice palace built overtop of the rubble that was now the town would do nicely. 

Minions and servants, slaves and concubines to see to his every whim. Rooms spread across acres all built for his enjoyment and pleasure. And it wasn’t as if they weren’t going to make more money: the agreement with Paul was merely the first stage, the world was full of valuable commodities and Giles intended to find them all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Drusilla purred from her place by Spike’s feet, sending the vibrations straight through him as she twirled her mouth over and over his aching penis. She could still feel the witch inside of him, clouding him with her claws and body. 

Dru was a practical woman – some of the time – and knew that the only way to fully get her William back was to share. While the very idea was repugnant to her, she figured that once he tired of the little witch then he’d be all hers again. It was that sharing part that angered her, but she refrained from biting down on him, knowing that he’d only enjoy it then punish her later. 

Which could be equally enjoyable. 

His slender hands gripped her head, forcing her faster and harder and he released his cold seed into her all too willing mouth. Purring again as she licked her lips, then her way up his lean body, Dru couldn’t help but wonder at the strange turn their relationship had taken. Maybe you can never really wipe the need for a lover out of your system no matter how hard you try. 

Or maybe William would always be hers. 

As his once again hardened cock impaled her slick coolness, Dru cried out his name, baring her throat for his teeth to drink from her. Yes, her sweet William would always be hers.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Hank stared at the women hanging along the wall with him. 

They had to be crazy, there was no way…no, there was absolutely no way… 

Sure, they really had no reason to lie to him, beaten and bleeding as they both were, but this was even more than his stretched credibility could handle. They had to be crazy. 

“Dawn isn’t my daughter?” 

Lilah sighed with as much gusto as she could manage and considering she had been bleeding to death not too long ago, that was saying something. “Listen up here, dad. Last time: Dawn is the Key, mystical origins molded into flesh to protect her from the hell beast known as Glorificus. Sent to the slayer, YOUR REAL DAUGHTER to protect. Got it?” 

Hank shook his head but the conscious pair could have cared less. They were being tortured, true, but this was something that couldn’t have been bypassed had the world been offered them. Faith’s jaw was healing, slowly, but she managed a few words when Lilah tired from telling the story. 

“Slayer, buddy. One girl in all the world, blah, blah…she protects the world from creatures of the night. Except this slayer fell in love with one of those creatures and several long and fairly interesting years later, is now one of them.” 

“Bu-but…Dawn isn’t my daughter?”

Lilah turned to look at the only ally she had remaining in this world. “Is delusional denial a common thing with her family?” 

“You have no idea…look around; it’s common in the world.” 

“Buffy is a vampire?” Hank still couldn’t wrap his once safe and protected mind around such concepts. 

Suddenly Dawn spoke up. It was the first time she had done so in weeks, the first either Faith or Lilah had heard her speak since they themselves had been brought here. 

“Buffy is lost to us. She is with him now; always with him…she protects her new family now, only her new family.” 

Faith stared at the girl she had only really met after the fact. The implanted memories had crashed in on her at that meeting and suddenly it was as if Dawn had always been there. “Yeah, kiddo,” Faith said, strangely protective of her. “We know. Don’t worry about it, you’ll be…fine.” 

She hated to lie to the girl, the last thing any of them were going to be was ‘fine’ but Dawn didn’t seem to realize any of that. And it was better for her that way. Faith only wished that she could have that kind of denial. 

Her jaw hurt like hell…
************
What could they possibly be doing in there? 

Buffy wondered for the hundredth time as she went back to reading Voltaire’s Candide…with her expanded and slightly dog-eared French-English Dictionary. Buffy was much better at the language now than she had been in high school, but still not up to Angelus' standards. Modern French was hard enough, but this whole ‘Enlightenment’ crap? No wonder the French Revolution was so bloody. 

Another ten minutes passed and they were still closed in the library as they had been for the past two hours. 

Giles had greeted them as they came back from the hunt and insisted on speaking with Angelus – alone. Buffy had gone to their rooms to begin her day’s studies fully expecting her lover to join her momentarily. She knew that her mentor could be long winded, but it was always with good reason. 

Buffy snuggled onto the blissfully dust free chair, impatient to try out their freshly laundered sheets and newly cleaned bathroom. But, with the notable exception of the tub, none of those things she wanted to do alone. For one, merely sleeping on the bed wasn’t what she had in mind for their new sheets. And for another, learning wasn’t nearly as fun without Angelus. He actually knew some of the people she studied, putting a nice personal slant on things. 

What could they possibly be doing in there?
~~~~~~~~
“So she’s safe then.” Angelus asked after going over the notes Giles had meticulously made. 

“So far as I've been able to tell, yes. I’ve crossed reference every angle I could think of and several Willow suggested.” Giles neglected from mentioning that Spike had come up with an idea or two that proved equally useless but helpful for the fresh perspective just the same. He wasn’t at all certain the older vampire was back in his Grandsire’s good graces yet. 

“So Belinda used no magicks on Buffy, she had her captured, proceeded to drain and turn her as she would have any human.” Angelus worked hard at keeping his voice level; he was far from over the idea that someone else had turned his mate forever denying him that right and pleasure. 

“Yes. I think the reason it’s never been heard of before is actually quite simple. Slayer blood is strong, powerful, addicting. It can heal the sick, as you well know,” Giles nodded at Angelus, reminding them both that he had once had a taste of the powerful elixir despite being his alter ego. 

“I think that every time a vamp drained a slayer their blood was too much and the vampire couldn’t stop. Killed the slayer completely before having the chance to turn her. The line between too late and turning is a fine one as you well know. Draining the slayer dry was a simple reaction to ingesting such powerful blood; they couldn’t stop.” 

Angelus nodded; the explanation made perfect sense but he still wasn’t convinced. He believed Giles absolutely, and on any other occasion would have left it at that. But this was Buffy they were discussing and Angelus couldn’t let anything about her go without a thorough explanation. 

“Willow did a spell to check for the signatures of old spells,” Giles continued wondering only slightly at using magick to check for magick. It was a sound practice, but very strange to explain. “There were several, but they were old: The bond between the two of you; one from the night you drank from her, one from when you shared that last night together before moving your armies out, and the Union Ritual. Dawn’s aura was there, but the monks had transformed the Key into Dawn by using magick so that was to be expected.” 

“What about the spell to bring her back form he dead?” Angelus didn’t believe that, so late in the preverbal game, something like that would make a difference, but it never hurt to be sure. 

“There was that signature as well, of course, but nothing strong enough to indicated the recent use of magicks. Other than the distinct bonding mark, of course. I think that Belinda controlled herself or, more likely, had non-blood drinking demons there to stop her. Chances are she drank, they pulled her away, Belinda turned Buffy, and chained her in the basement of the place where you say you found her.”

Again Angelus nodded silently. While he would never admit it to anyone, possibly not even Buffy, he was more worried about something happening to her than anything else in the world. For the most part he was over the whole ‘love making him weak’ thing, but he still didn’t wish to advertise it; demons preyed on weaknesses, knowing that Buffy was his greatest would make her an easy target. 

Then again, they were already bonded; any demon with half a brain cell would know how much she meant to him. Despite his previous reputation, it wouldn’t matter once they realized that the simplest way to get to him would be through her. Of course Buffy was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he refused to put her life in any more danger. 

“You’re sure, Giles,” He said at length, making it a statement not a question. 

“As sure as I can be. As I said, there’s nothing written about it so basically I’m going with the ‘if there’s nothing there than it is for a reason’ theorem. If no one wrote anything about charms and spells being used to transform a slayer into a vampire then it is probably because they aren’t needed. I did,” Giles qualified when it appeared Angelus came to the same conclusion as he, namely that if it had indeed happened before then that person may not have wanted others to know their secrets.

“I did take into account the fact that if it wasn’t written then there may have been a reason for that, but that was where Willow came in. Why I had her perform that Past Spells Check. Since she came up with nothing, other, of course, than what I already told you, my conclusion is that she, Buffy, is free from magickal influences.” 

Angelus nodded, still not saying anything. He stood, leaving Giles to his morning and went upstairs to see his mate. That had been twenty minutes ago. He had heard Giles enter his own rooms and still hadn’t made it to Buffy. 

Finally he opened the door to their suites and simply watched her as she read. She was so beautiful, so stunning. He couldn’t believe the bottomless well of lust he felt for her, the fact that in all his years he never thought it possible to actually feel an emotion, to feel love. 

Smiling, he dismissed everything but the gorgeous creature before him, thinking of all the things he wanted to do to and with her.

“Are you going to stand there, watching me struggle through Voltaire all day, or are you going to rescue me?” Buffy asked, not looking up from her dictionary. 

Striding purposely into the room, Angelus smirked at her. “If I rescue you from Voltaire, what are you going to give me?” 

Buffy looked up, marking her place before closing the book and placing it on the chair beside her. Standing, she walked half way to her lover and smirked right back. “What do you want from me?” 

Eyes raked over her supple form, taking in what the tight pants and flowing shirt hid as well as revealed. Licking his lips, Angelus’ only thought was that she was his, all his. “Mine,” he said as hands clasped arms, holding her close. “Let’s see how well those minions did the laundry and cleaned the chains.” 

And threw her onto their newly made bed, stalking to her as she settled on her back, forearms holding her slightly aloft and legs spread. “Come and get me, then, baby…”
~~~~~~~~~~
Cordelia looked around her, holding in the shudder that threatened to start, one she was willing to bet wouldn’t stop. 

These were the resistance? 

If such a term could be applied to so motley a group then these were good’s last best chance to win this war. The world was doomed. 

“I’ve seen hopeless, I’ve seen desolate, and the world ending horror that goes with it. This is…beyond that.” She was talking aloud but no one was paying any attention to her. 

“I should have stayed in Russia.” She said as she wandered around the warehouse, looking for a presumed leader. She needed his or her help if she was going to find Angelus and Buffy and stay alive while she killed her oldest friend and his lover. Cordy didn’t have high hopes for that, but she wasn’t about to give up just yet. There was a small (slim, very tiny) chance she’d make it out alive. 

“I should have stayed in Russia.” She said again and turned a corner, walking straight into a tall muscular man wearing all black. 

“Are things better in Russia, ma’am?” The man asked as he openly took bio readings of her. Frowning he tried again, apparently coming up with the same reading.

“Wait, let me guess. You’re trying to figure out if I’m a vampire, right? Has anyone ever told you that not all vamps are evil? Or, for that matter, that all demons are?” Which made no sense anymore as now the only two ‘good’ vampires she knew were indeed evil...or dead. “Let me rephrase that.” 

Sticking out her hand, she said, “Hi, I’m Cordelia Chase, I’m half demon but don’t ask me what kind because the Powers never bothered to tell me that. I have visions of people in trouble and have fought for the good guys since I was in high school but right now I need some serious help.” 

“High school?” The man nodded, having heard variations on this before. Still, he wasn’t about to take any chances. His unit had been decimated months ago, only a handful of his troops making it out alive. He had come back to LA in the hopes of joining up with the army here, but by the time he had arrived, the army was gone. There had been no contact with them in weeks. 

Fed up, worried, scared, and positive that her last look at this world was going to be with her head tilted to the side as either Buffy or Angel drank from her, Cordelia snapped. “Look, I’ve been fighting the forces of darkness longer than you, buddy, I’m sure. I’ve seen friends die and be reborn, I’ve seen miracles happen and stupid prophecies be fulfilled and false ones be taken as truth. I’ve seen the end of the world come more times than I care to count and have stopped it more times than I thought it was possible to do so.” 

She stalked closer to the stoic man several inches taller than her and finished, “I need some information and you, as leader of these rejects, are the perfect person to help me.” 

Not moving a muscle in the face of her tirade, but somewhat impressed, he looked down at her and asked, “What makes you think I’m in charge?” 

Throwing up her hands in annoyance, Cordelia said, “Because I’ve been laying into you for several minutes and no one has told me to stop. That means that there’s no one higher here to do so. Ergo, smart ass, that means that you’re it. Now, are you going to help me stop an even bigger threat to the world than the current battles, or are you going to with what your precious little technology tells you and think that because I’m a demon then I’m evil?” 

“We’ll help you, Miss Chase. What kind of information do you need?” 

Satisfied that she was going to get some answers, Cordy smiled. “Your name for starters.” 

“Riley Finn.”
***********
“Riley Finn…now why does that name sound so damn familiar?” 

Cordelia was trailing after the tall, muscular man wondering why she should care at a time like this. Maybe because she didn’t want to die with something nagging at the back of her mind? Or maybe it was important and she just didn’t realize how yet. 

“Riley, just got word from the north, the army has moved forward with the original plan and is clearing out Oregon, Washington, and moving into Canada.” A man entered the room Cordy was waiting in; he looked older than his perceived age, as if this war had taken its toll on him. As it had on everyone. 

“Damn it, then why aren’t they answering our communiqué’s?” Riley slammed his fist onto the old wooden table, making the various object on the surface jump with his frustration. 

Damn it, Cordy knew what this was about, she just knew. “Army? Ah, the…the Slayer’s army?” 

Riley looked at the dark haired woman before him and nodded. He had never seen her before but that didn’t necessarily mean anything; there were a lot of operatives in the world fighting for their cause. “You know something about it?” 

“Oh, you have no idea.” Sitting down heavily in the only available chair in the tiny room, Cordelia asked, “What do you know about…the Slayer and her army?” 

“She’s leading half the army of light, her objectives are the Americas and, if she succeeds,” here his voice broke as if for the Slayer to do otherwise was unthinkable, “Then she’s to cross to Eastern Asia.” 

The hysterical laughter spilled out before Cordy could stop it. Once started, she was deathly afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stop. Rocking back and forth for several long minutes as people stared at her in shock and concern Cordy wondered how to tell these people that their hero was dead. Pulling herself together slowly, she tried, really she did, but the words that came out of her mouth were anything but comforting. 

“I’m pretty sure the slayer’s dead. Both of them, actually, though we haven’t heard of another one being Called.” Frowning Cordy added, “However since the Watcher’s Council pretty much hates all of us and anything associated with either slayer, the chances of them telling us are rather slim.” 

Riley curled his hands into fists on the table top and asked as calmly as he could. “What do you know, Ms. Chase? And how do you know?”

“Who are you? No,” Cordelia said and held her hand up to forestall any answer. “Better yet, how do you know of B…the slayer?” 

“We…went to college together. She…” Riley sighed then decided to tell the truth. He had never hid it before, had just stopped talking about it once he had met Sam. Now she was dead…and he didn’t really care about anything any more. “We used to date.” 

Eyes wide, Cordy jumped up and said, “Oh, my God! You’re Riley! You’re Riley the commando Riley! You put that chip in Spike’s brain! And, and…oh, FUCK!” 

“You know Spike, too?” Somehow, that wasn’t what Riley had been expecting. He had agreed with Buffy and had stayed in South America when the wars had begun. It was only recently, after an ambush that destroyed most of his team that he had ventured back to California. 

“Spike? Oh, yeah, we go way back to when he was actually evil and tried to kill us. Which he may very well be trying again, I’m not sure how strong that whole sire/childe bond is. Damn it! Oh, you are so not going to like this. Better sit down, Soldier Boy.” 

Riley did so but only after getting them both food and drink. He had a feeling it was going to be a long story. And it was. Long and depressing and definitely not looking good for them. Not…at…all. 

“Are you sure?” Riley asked for possibly the hundredth time. 

“No, not at all. All I know is that we lost communication with all of them and I can’t contact them through their souls. I can faintly feel Faith and Dawn, but that whole Key magick blurs everything. I don’t know if Buffy’s been turned, all I know is that with Angelus on the loose, if she has been then they’re together.” 

“And if she hasn’t been?” 

“Then she’s dead and Angelus is still on the loose and possibly more unpredictable than anyone really realizes.” 

Cordelia admitted to herself that she didn’t know her friend’s alter ego as well as she possibly should have. Her rare experiences with Angelus involved him after Buffy in high school and trying to kill that insipid actress shortly after they started working together. There were other times when the demon had been close to the surface, but now…now the demon was all and her friend (former friend?) was nowhere to be found. 

Buffy as a vampire. Buffy as her worst nightmare. Buffy as a vampire with her vampire lover. Who had also reverted to form and was now evil again. Riley had a flash of memory; Angel kicking his ass when he was angry but soul-having, Buffy sticking up for him – Angel – and Riley really thinking that it was over between the two former lovers. 

It wasn’t until he met Sam that he realized that some things were never meant to be over. And what lay between Buffy and her former lover was one of them. He knew that he’d love Sam until his final breath and beyond; that whatever he had had with Buffy was a pale comparison to what he had with his wife.

“If you knew that the chances of Buffy being tuned,” Riley began his voice all soldier though his heart broke for the woman who was once his lover, “were pretty good and she was with her blood sucking lover, then why come here?”

“Not up on the Angel fan club, huh?” Cordy refrained from mentioning the rumor she had heard about Riley and blood sucking fiends on the basis that it wouldn’t help her current cause. But it was a close call to keep the snarky comment quiet. “I have a big mouth. Angel’s group…we wanted to know for sure. I…came.” 

Cordelia smiled at the soldier standing before her. “What I really need now is information…. Information on where they’re located and how strong their army is.” 

“How do you know they have an army?” 

Rolling her eyes Cordelia laughed…and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Please, Angelus not interested in destroying the world? Plus, if he really does have Buffy with him then they’re going to be doubly interested in it; I’m fairly certain she has a big chip on her shoulder. She’s saved the world too many times, sacrificed her lover, her life, just about everything she had over and over. This new soulless version is so going to want some kind of payback.”

“Angel’s not going to be happy to see you if what you say about him is true.” Riley pointed out as he moved to the doorway, calling for someone. 

“Oh, it’s not me you have to be worried about, Soldier Boy. It’s you. You, my dear Riley, touched his precious Buffy. Talk about your world of hurt.” Tilting her head to the side Cordy amended, “Then again, Buffy’s so not going to be happy to see me. My own private world of hurt. Aren’t we the lucky ones?” 

Frowning again – all this scowling made wrinkles but she couldn’t control herself – Cordy sighed. “I should have stayed in Russia; we’re both going to die. Horrible, painful deaths.”

Brightening she said, “But look on the bright side; if we’re lucky, we’ll only die once!”
~~~~~~~~~~~
The bright side for Buffy was that she enjoyed being chained to the bed as much as Angelus did chaining her to the bed. The clean silk sheets lay under her as she screamed her completion over and over. Still Angelus refused to relent, tasting her cool honeyed sweetness again and again as fingers explored. 

He had sipped from her body numerous times, adding a bit of blood to the volatile mix that was them. Lapping at the well of blood currently pooling on her thigh, his tongue ran over the small puncture marks until they closed. It wasn’t that he minded getting blood on the sheets, but he didn’t want the minions even scenting Buffy’s sweet nectar. 

Ramming home yet again, Angelus moved in and out of his love even as he felt her build to climax. The chains inhibited her movements as they were meant to so he couldn’t feel her soft hands caressing his heavy balls or gouging his back until he bled, but he had absolute control over her, a heady sensation. 

Finally he relented, sinking fangs into her neck thereby exposing his own for her pleasure. As her blood flowed over his tongue, sweet, powerful, addicting, Angelus shuddered in his release, crying out her name as his climax trembled through him. 

Buffy laid breathing heavily underneath him, absently wondering why her body needed breathe when it was dead. Her blood pumped through her veins, almost hot in its intensity and despite the many times Angelus had tasted her this night, she felt invigorated, strong, almost…alive from the intensity of feelings Angelus brought out in her. 

Controlling her breathing at last, Buffy murmured, “Maybe, if you’re so concerned with keeping my blood off our sheets, we should look into setting up a separate room in the dressing area. Knock down a few walls, add on, whatever.” 

Angelus nodded and reached blindly for the keys to unlock her. He really wanted to feel her hands on his body. And maybe, despite the number of times he had come this day, have her once more before they moved onto their guests in the basement. Uncuffing her and rolling her into his arms, Angelus lay there silently for a few moments. 

“What are you going to do with your father?” He asked at length, knowing that the time to do so had come and neither could ignore the man any longer.

It had been several days since Drusilla had given her gift and rejoined their family. Several days where Buffy had studiously avoided her biological father with the same intensity he used to deny all that Faith and Lilah had told him. She had watched the monitors, curled into Angelus’ lap in the dinning hall, as the two women explained the finer points of her, Buffy’s, life. 

They had skipped over most things, going straight to the heart of the matter; whatever could be said about Lilah and Faith, familiarity with the niceties of life weren’t one of them. 

She and Angelus had talked about what should be done how outright killing Hank would hurt her in the long run rather than help. She had some serious rage towards her absentee father and it wasn’t likely to go away any time soon. Angelus had suggested talking to him; not sharing their feelings, no, anything but that. But expressing (in between use of some form of torture device) how much she hated him. 

“If you simply kill him,” he had said, calling on the experiences with his own father, “Then he’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. Or a good long while at least.” 

He had told her about that, too, his father, his feelings pre and post-Darla for the man who created him. How having the soul had actually helped him to forgive the man who was supposed to love and support him but instead gave him nothing but pain and heartbreak. 

“I think I’m ready now.” Buffy agreed, lifting her head to look in his eyes. “I have you and I have Giles. Hank Summers means nothing to me. But I do have some fun stories to impart before I take his life.” 

Smirking back at her, Angelus stood, holding out his hand for her. “Then let’s get to it, love.” 

They went to try out the newly cleaned shower before they entertained Hank; wanted to look their best for the coming hours.
***********
Hank Summers was still in shock several days later when his daughter (the real one though at the moment that was certainly relative) came to…visit. Lilah had lost consciousness shortly after telling him the story of his daughter’s life and Faith had been sullen and quiet, not saying a word.

Dawn was still in her own little land but at least she got visitors. The crazy woman – vampire, whatever – who had kidnapped him had come down several times to ‘play’ with her. Something about glowing light and fantastic energy. Hank didn’t understand, didn’t pretend to understand, and probably wouldn’t live long enough to do so should anyone have taken the time to tell him the whole story. 

“Up and ready, Hank?” Buffy asked, cheerful and ready to excise some of the more metaphysical demons that haunted her. “We have lots of games to play today…and that sounded so very Drusilla like.” 

Buffy walked over to the tray that held the smaller, finer instruments that they used and wheeled it in front of Hank. “How about we’re going to get reacquainted, dear old dad.” Leaning in closer she whispered, “Would you like that?” 

The look in Hank’s eyes was mostly terror but there was a small dosage of hatred mixed there as well. Good, good. That mean that he knew what was coming. And who was going to dish it out. 

Looking over her tools, Buffy noticed one missing. Not that she couldn’t proceed without it but it was always good to account for things. Especially with their minions around now. In addition to the original four, Giles had gone on a rampage and turned at least a dozen two nights ago. He had piled them all in a stolen car and driven them back to the house before ditching the car several miles off in the hills. 

Walking back up the stairs without telling Hank where she was going, Buffy searched for her lover. “Baby,” she said when she found him in the library pouring over notes in what looked to be Giles’ handwriting. Wondering if they had something to do with their secret meeting earlier in the day, Buffy rounded the desk and leaned over his shoulder. 

“What are you looking at?” She asked when it immediately became apparent he wasn’t going to simply tell her. 

“Giles did some research for me,” He said, putting the notes away and turning in the chair to face her. “I thought you were visiting with your father?”

Not willing to let it go but seeing that he didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, Buffy merely smiled. “What happened to the scalpel you used on Lilah? I can’t find it on the tray.” 

“Really? I put it back…no, no I didn’t, actually. I think Drusilla has it. She said she wanted to test a theory out…or something. I swear she gets crazier ever year.”

Smirking at him she took his hand and led him away from the room. “And whose fault is that?” 

Angelus said nothing, but followed her into the basement. He knew she was a little wary about confronting a man who stirred too many and not nearly enough things inside of her. Hank Summers deserved no emotion from Buffy and she was more than willing to just let him die. On the other hand, he had effectively abandoned her at an early age, causing her to believe that all men would do so. 

And, if he followed the trail, many had. First Hank, then he, well, Angel and several times at that, then Parker (when he found the boy he’d pay that much was certain.) Riley (another one who was going to learn who he should never have touched), even Giles for a time. But it all stemmed from Hank’s disappearance in her life. And now was the perfect time to extract some measure of revenge.

Hank was, of course, still where they had chained him. Wrists bleeding from futile escape attempts, face bruised and bloody, breath wheezing from cracked or broken ribs. It was such a nice sight, really brightened his day. 

“So, Hank,” Buffy started conversationally. “Where should we begin? The face? The kneecaps? Maybe some more ribs or even the feet? Kind of hard standing upright even chained when your feet are a bloody mass of mush.” 

Hank didn’t respond but it wasn’t for lack of trying. He wasn’t being silent out of any idea that by denying his captors a reply then he was somehow winning a small point in the pride department. No it was more the mind numbing, full bodily function freezing terror that had its deathly claws in him that prevented a response.

That and the last thing he had to drink was an hour before he was taken. 

“What, no reply?” Buffy shook her head in disappointment as Angelus settled himself on their throne chair. “Maybe some water to rouse those vocal cords.” Pouring some of the clear liquid into a tall glass, Buffy turned back to the man who had fathered her and gently tipped the cup enough for him to swallow without sloshing. 

“Better now?” Without waiting for a reply, she set the glass aside and contemplated her options. “I think we’ll just start at one end and work our way from there.”
~~~~~~~
True to her word, Buffy began at Hank’s feet and moved upward, justifying her starting point by saying that his blood moved downward therefore when she made it to the other end, it wouldn’t get in her way. Angelus watched as she moved over her father, taking small chunks out here and there, alternating whipping his back and turning him back around to carve his front as he screamed in double pain: His back on fire and his front equally so. 

“Now then, dad,” Buffy said again stressing the word. “Want to tell me why you decided to ignore the fact that you had a life before the divorce?” 

She had stopped all torture, realizing that Hank wasn’t used to any kind of pain and that if she wanted any answers out of him then she’d have to temper her movements. The words, when he finally spoke, were hoarse, quiet. Without her improved hearing, Buffy wouldn’t have been able to hear a word he had said. 

“I wanted to start new,” Hank began telling the truth because it never occurred to do otherwise. “Not that I didn’t love you and your sister, but at first I just wanted to put everything behind me, to see what had changed in the world that I missed while I was married to your mother.”

He coughed, spitting up a glob of blood but still continued, terrified what his daughter would do if he stopped. He had tried the stalling tactic the first time she had asked him and for his troubles she had flayed his back with what she gleefully called a cat o’ nine tails. 

“I didn’t want to lose contact with you or your sister but it seemed that you had moved on as well. Joyce called less and less to tell me what was happening in your lives and I thought it was because you didn’t want me to know.”

”Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me!” Buffy laughed as she walked the short way to Angelus and the chair. She was really quite attached to that chair. “You’re going to blame your lack of interest in me on the fact that mom didn’t keep in contact with you? It’s called a phone, Hank, it works by picking up the receiver and using your fingers to dial a number, thus connecting you to the person whose number you’ve dialed. Ever think to try that?” 

“I did, several times…” Well, once or twice, but he was so busy with work and dating again. He was free, Joyce had custody of their children and he had no responsibilities other than his job and child support and alimony. “But Dawn would say that you were out or Joyce would say that you were studying. I did talk to Dawn…” Again Hank trailed off when he realized that if his other child (not his daughter, not his flesh and blood) was chained in the same basement as he then it was more than possible for Buffy to not care that he had spoken to her. 

“You do know,” Buffy said in a calm voice as Angelus’ arms wrapped around her. This wasn’t as hard as she had feared. There truly was nothing left inside of her for her father. Whatever harm he’d done to her, whatever pain his carelessness and ignorance had caused her, it no longer mattered. 

“I know that Faith and Lilah told you of Dawn’s real origins. She’s not your daughter, Hank. And telling me that you actually had a conversation or two with her…? So not going to help your situation.” 

He still didn’t understand half of what he had been told, still had so many questions he wanted answered. But right now the most important seemed to be, “Why are you going to destroy the world, Buffy? From what these two women said you were sworn to protect it.”

Buffy laughed again and stood, crossing back to her father intent on ending this sooner rather than later. “You just don’t get it, do you, Hank? We don’t want to destroy the world, your informants are all wrong. We want to rule it. And the protecting thing? So over that; all the world ever did for me was take, take, take. Now it’s my turn.” 

Her features changed and her tongue came out to lick her lips in anticipation. “Say goodbye, Hank.” Sinking her fangs into the soft and untouched flesh on the side of his neck, Buffy sank her fangs into the artery there and drained her father dry in a matter of seconds. 

Angelus and Giles had inquired if she wanted to turn him into a slave vampire, making his humiliation that much more, but Buffy hadn’t wanted to waste her blood on him. Turning to face her lover, Buffy watched as Angelus gracefully rose to join her by her late father’s side. Licking several drops of blood that pooled at the corners of her mouth, he growled and crushed his lips to hers.

Watching her feed always turned him on, made him less patient and always drove him into her arms. But a voice from the doorway pulled them – reluctantly – apart. Still in vamp face, the couple turned to see Giles standing there. 

“Work through everything, Buffy?” He asked his voice neutral. 

“Yes, as Willow would say, better than therapy. How long were you there?” She had sensed him but knew him to be in the building only.

Giles shrugged, brushing it off as unimportant. And it was for he had heard the majority of what Buffy said to her father. And knew that she wouldn’t be haunted by his actions – or lack thereof – any longer. Instead he said, “Willow’s back,” and turned to head back up the stairs.

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