“Is everyone finally gone?” Willow asked as she moved into the dining room. 

It had been a long couple of days, there were more demons interested in their cause than initially suggested as much and they had spent most of the early evening feeling their trustworthiness out. The fact that they trusted none of them was not really the point, what was the point was that most of them believed themselves believed. For the moment that was enough. 

“Yeah,” Buffy said from her high-backed chair at the head of the table. Her eyes were closed and her feet rested on the table, the dress she wore clinging to the tops of her thighs. “Though I did make an interesting acquaintance today.” 

Snagging an unopened bottle of wine Willow joined her sire and friend and asked, “That tall dark haired lady I saw you with?” At Buffy’s nod Willow asked, “How interesting?” 

“She’s the childe of the Master of some order in Greece, um, Zanita. Apparently she’s not happy with her current situation.” Buffy smiled at her First Childe as Willow handed her a glass of one the last bottles of blood wine. It had been mixed the previous morning but still seemed to be fresh; though not as fresh as a nice kill. Buffy waited until Willow leaned back in her own chair, legs resting over the arm and sipped her own glass before continuing. 

“Zanita has several favorites but Valda isn’t high on that list; according to her it’s because she’s too independent thinking, but who knows? She did, however, offer an interesting proposition.” 

“What would that be?” Her mate asked as he walked into the room, smirk firmly in place. As Willow leaned over the table to pour a third glass, Angelus pulled Buffy up, before repositioning her on his lap. The night had been endless and they had been separate for entirely too long to his way of thinking. 

“She says, and I only repeat her words, that she just wants to have a small island to control in the South Pacific. She likes the warmth and so long as the place is adequately populated then she has no problems.”

Stroking her mark while his other hand played with her ring, he asked, “And in exchange for this island?” 

Purring slightly at his touch, Buffy repeated what Valda had offered her earlier. “Her Order; she apparently has information that would cause Zanita to bow before her, though what it was Valda didn’t say.” 

“And can we trust her?” Willow asked as she leaned back into the chair. How was it that simply listening to demon after demon go on and on about their many virtues was more tiring than saving the world on a daily basis or hunting and mating every night for hours on end? “I mean everyone said something to that effect today.” 

Angelus nodded, having heard similar offerings; ‘my Order for a small piece of land to control’ was a more than common theme. He was noncommittal as were everyone in his family, he knew, but that didn’t stop the offers from flowing in. What he had wanted to ask was how their offers were different than what was the current practice? Still there was something in the way Buffy relayed this conversation that caught his attention. 

“Two things, actually,” she said, sipping her drink and leaning into Angelus more comfortably. “One, she only wanted an island and promised that so far as dealings were concerned, this was all she was interested in. We didn’t bother her, she didn’t bother us and the rest of the world was ours to do with as we would. And, yes, I’m aware that demons and promises are antithetical, but she said should this come about she was willing to give her word written in blood.” 

Pleased that she was feeding again, but wondering if they should go hunting for something a little fresher, Angelus asked, “And the second?” 

Smirking, Buffy shifted slightly so her ass rubbed against his crotch. “She told me all about Tigerwoman.” 

Angelus laughed but Willow looked confused, “Who?” 

“Some vampire who was eyeing my mate. Didn’t quite get the fact that he was mine and even if we hadn’t Joined, which we had, he was still off limits. Not only that but she couldn’t sense my presence; either when I was eavesdropping on her conversation with Valda, or when I knocked her out to drag her into the wine cellar.” 

Willow laughed with them, enjoying the mental image Buffy created. “She didn’t sense you? Not only a Slayer, but a Master Vampire as well? Oh, please, what are we, back in Sunnydale?” 

Snorting in agreement, Buffy added, “Oh, that reminds me; when I was down there I noticed Faith’s all healed again. Lilah’s really out of it, I think that last bit of torture was too much for her, baby,” Buffy directed this last comment to Angelus before turning back to her childe. “But Faith’s nicely healed. Now the question becomes…kill her now and wait for the next slayer, or turn her into a minion or slave, or just torture her some more?” 

“Torture who?” Spike asked as he and Giles entered the room, having followed the laughter. 

“Faith,” Willow answered as she got two more glasses and another bottle of blood wine. Their supply was running low, the mix didn’t last long and the night was waning but there was still time to hunt if they wanted to. 

“Depends,” Giles said as he accepted a glass from Willow, ignoring as did Buffy and Angelus the looks she and Spike were giving each other. “On if we want to deal with another slayer; granted she won’t be nearly as strong, not as well trained, she won’t know us as well as Faith, and those are all excellent points. But on the other hand, why give the Council anything to go on? It’ll make their demise so much easier when it comes.” 

Spike nodded, dragging his eyes from his former lover. “I agree with the Watcher, here,” though Giles hadn’t been a watcher in some time. “Let’s leave her in the basement, maybe we can break her instead. Angelus here is a master at that.” 

The master in question smirked back at his childe, agreeing. “That would be enjoyable, but everyone she knows is either already dead, here and torturing her, or in Russia; maybe just torturing her with the innocents she can’t save.” Hmm, that was an idea. 

“Which leads us,” Willow injected as Drusilla floated in with Paul and Saffir, “With the question of what to do with Cordelia.” 

Buffy’s eyes flashed red but she only said, “Besides torturing her as painfully as anyone can devise?” 

“Yes,” Willow laughed, “Besides that entertaining though it may be. Do we even know where she is?” 

Drusilla twirled around the table, giggling like a schoolgirl. “She’s with him, with the soldier. They have an idea, but they don’t know everything. She’ll try, so stubborn, but she’s not prepared.” 

“Soldier? There are a lot of soldiers, Dru; there are several branches of both armies that have hundreds of ‘soldiers’ fighting.” Giles shook his head then suddenly stopped, locking eyes with Buffy then Angelus, “Unless she means Riley.” 

Angelus’ grip on her waist tightened painfully and Buffy was again glad that she didn’t need to breath. A low growl started deep in his chest before making itself heard, startling those who were new to the situation. Paul and Saffir had no idea who this Riley was but from the look on Angelus’ face he wouldn’t live too much longer. Then again, from the look on Buffy’s face she didn’t seem to mind that. 

“I thought he was in South America or wherever, working from there northwards.” Willow said, smirking at the thought of the righteous commando getting his due. And to think, there was actually a time when she thought the clean cut farm boy was good for her friend; what had she been smoking that day? “Wasn’t that the plan?” 

“Yeah, I hadn’t heard he was back, but then I’ve been…out of touch with everything a while.” Buffy said biting back a groan of pleasure as Angelus’ hand slid slowly up her leg. She knew that the mention of Riley would set him off and that her day was suddenly filled with his punishment over her ex-lover. Not that Buffy blamed him; she already had several interesting ideas for their new ‘playroom’ at the mere reminder of Cordelia in his arms. 

“Not prepared for what, luv?” 

Drusilla giggled again, jumping onto the table and dancing along its length in a slow pace. “Us, my William, daddy and mummy. She only thinks she has an idea, thinks she knows what they’ll be like, but she doesn’t; she doesn’t have any idea because she never really faced him. Silly seer.” 

“More like stupid bitch,” Willow muttered. 

“Still, Riley back in LA, that’s interesting. And if he has connected with Cordelia, then that means they’ll both be looking for us.” Giles took one last sip from his glass. “Should we just wait for them?” 

Frowning Paul spoke for the first time; not that he had any idea whatsoever what the conversation was really about but his question seemed obvious. “Do you really think they’ll be able to find you? I mean it’s not like you own the city – not yet at least – and everyone knows where your place is.” 

Angelus willed himself calm before nodding. The mere idea of his Buffy with anyone else made his stolen blood boil, his eyesight to be hazed with black and rage to pour through him. But, he reasoned, he would be able to work all that out on the boy when they captured him. 

“They’re resourceful, but not stupid. I really don’t think they’ll just walk up to the door and knock. Then again,” He amended as Buffy whimpered on his lap, his fingers teasing the outer folds of her sex, “Lilah did.” 

Swallowing Buffy tried to keep her voice level though she was perfectly aware that everyone in the room could smell her arousal, “Riley’s that stupid.” Spike nodded as did Giles and Willow as she continued, “He thinks he’s some big bad hero, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and take on a nest of vampires all by himself. Dru,” Buffy directed her attention to her adopted childe, “Any sign of his wife?” 

“The soldier’s all alone, there’s no one with him but his heart, it bleeds.” 

“I’m guessing that’s a big no,” Buffy said, holding in a purely evil chuckle at the thought that Sam was dead. 

“Plus,” Willow added, sharing Buffy’s thought over the hapless wife. “He has no real idea what he fights and he probably won’t believe that Buffy is truly evil. He may get it intellectually but I doubt, when face to face with her, he’ll believe it.” 

“Bloody bastard,” Spike muttered almost too low for even them to hear as he absently rubbed the back of his head where the Initiative had long ago put his chip in. 

“So we seek him out?” Giles asked, more in a poll than as a question. Everyone nodded though Saffir and Paul remained silent, still not knowing anything relevant. That’d have to be remedied as quickly as possible before things went too much farther. 

“And Faith?” Buffy asked, moaning quietly as Angelus’ fingers left her. He was so contrary sometimes it made her want to scream. But she didn’t, again knowing what he was doing. Seemed her punishment this morning was going to be a denial of sexual release. And probably a good beating, he really did enjoy that whip. 

“Let’s keep her for now,” Angelus said, standing with Buffy’s hand firmly clasped in his larger one. “She isn’t going anywhere and we don’t have to decide now.”
**********
Saffir looked at her sire then at her lover. 

She knew that Paul never had any desire to do more than indulge in his own pleasures and run his clubs. Ruling the Vampire Community just wasn’t what he wanted. And that was part of the reason he had given his Blood Oath to Angelus and Buffy; the other reason, Saffir knew, was sitting across the table sipping from her half full glass. 

There was something here that the two newcomers were missing. Everyone here knew each other’s past, knew what had happened, the ‘history’ behind everything. It was almost like coming in at the end of the movie when the plot was all wrapped up and the cast knew what had happened and why but you didn’t. 

Cordelia, Saffir knew, was Angel’s (the souled version) seer, his link to the Powers, the means with which he was to earn his so called redemption. What she didn’t know was why, other than the obvious hatred of anything that reminded them of their previous lives, they wanted her dead so very badly. 

As for this Riley person…Saffir was at a total loss. 

She was about to ask the many questions running through her mind when Giles stood, shared a significant look with Spike and Willow, and offered his hand to her. Hesitating only a brief second, Saffir clasped it and walked out with him.

“How much of Angel and Buffy’s past do you know?” He asked, leading her to his rooms. 

Willow looked from Spike to Drusilla before doing the same to Paul who was equally confused but willing to go with the flow and not worry overmuch about anything. Why bother, he wondered, eyeing his lover as she spoke a few words to Drusilla, when things had this almost cosmic tendency to take care of themselves? 

“How much of Buffy and Angel’s story is common knowledge?” She asked in an echo of Giles question as she, too, led him to her suite of rooms. 

Spike looked at his lover, his love. She was still standing atop the table, a mischievous grin on her face, hands fluttering about in the air. 

“What are you up to, luv?” He asked, walking closer to the table, looking up at her. 

“We’re a family again, my William, we’re all a family again.” She crouched down, lips a hair’s breath away from his. “Isn’t it wonderful, my Spike,” she said, switching names as she often did, “To be able to rule the world, to have your family by your side?” 

Spike just laughed, grabbing her about the waist and lifting her off the table, swinging her around once before setting her on the floor next to him. She was right, he thought as he picked up the last bottle of wine, that broken part inside of him, that piece that had shattered when Angelus had been cursed by the now deceased bad of gypsies, was slowly beginning to heal. 

“Yes, pet, it truly is.” He was about to say more when she stopped, hands turning into claws on his arm. “Dru, ow, damn it. Dru what is it?” 

Suddenly she smiled and laughed like a child. “The last member of our family will soon be ours, Spike. He resists but it’s no use, mummy will have none of it.” 

Spike looked at her for a moment when nothing else was forthcoming. Sometimes she could prattle on for hours about what she saw, others it was a brief statement before she switched to something else. This looked to be one of those times. 

“Let’s go see the dawn, Spike.” 

Spike shook his head, wondering for only a moment what the hell she was talking about. She wasn’t that crazy to want to greet the sun, he knew that…oh, the dawn. Dawn. She wanted to see Dawn. Right then. 

As they made their way to the wine cellar, Spike felt a moment’s guilt. He really had cared for the little bit and that was before he had a soul. He had promised to watch her and he had done so, protected her as best he could from life on the Hellmouth. And now he was a part of, however indirectly, of her captivity. 

But then he rationalized that she wasn’t dead, she wasn’t going to die, and in fact probably had a better life here than she would have had she stayed with the army. She was guaranteed life here, food and drink, her own world where she could life out whatever fantasies her mind created. 

The guilt got smaller but was still there. 

What an interesting array of prisoners. Dawn was to the far right, lying on the floor curled into a ball under the blanket Buffy had given her several weeks ago, her slackened chains allowing her much more freedom of movement than anyone else. Faith was still standing, though her wrists were chaffed and bloody; and she was currently staring at the two vampires with nothing so much as calculation in her eyes. 

Buffy was right about Lilah, the human seemed to be completely out of it, her body limp, the signs of starvation visible everywhere. Her torn blouse was still opened but she was too delirious to care, and the portrait of Buffy visible for all to see. 

The newcomers were still full of life and energy, the need, want, to escape visible in every line of their bodies. Damon methodically went through each and every link in the chain, trying to find a weakness in his bindings. There were none and he had been told so by Faith when the slayer had tired of his rattling and grunts. Now he simply glared at Spike and Drusilla, decades of hatred showing clearly through his flat eyes. 

The final vampire was new to both Spike and Drusilla and as Dru floated to Dawn, smoothing the hair from the child’s face, Spike wandered over to Faith. She hated him, hated everyone in the house, but Spike was confident she’d answer his questions. 

“Who’s the new bitch at the end?” 

Cold eyes locked with his bright blue ones and Faith took a moment before answering. At this point it wasn’t so much the fact that she hadn’t a choice – which she didn’t – it was that she didn’t care. Her one goal was to survive long enough to leave, escape and warn the others in Russia. She figured they probably already had a pretty fair idea what had happened, but not to this extent. She couldn’t do that if she was weak and beaten. 

“Some vamp who was eyeing Angelus. B went all jealous and tied her up. Stupid bitch didn’t even realize what had happened, had to explain the situation to her.” 

Spike laughed, offering a glass of water to Faith who drank the contents down greedily. “It’s never boring around here, I’ll give them that.” 

The click of unlocking manacles drew their attention to Drusilla who was cradling a still sleeping Dawn in her arms. Panic shot through the slayer and she had to fight to remember that no matter what she did, her chains weren’t going anywhere and she couldn’t help Dawn if she was beaten again. 

“Where are you taking her?” Damn it, it was so…predictable but what could she say? 

“My bright light is so weak and tired and mummy doesn’t want her hurt. She’ll sleep in our room now, Spike.” Drusilla said before carrying the sleeping human out of the cellar. 

Spike took a moment to look at the now empty door before checking the other’s chains and following, wondering what his beauty was up to now. And if he could still enjoy himself with his former friend and charge in the same room. Maybe a nice soundproof little area off to the side? That sounded better. 

Drusilla lay Dawn on the bed before going to the bathroom to start a nice steaming bath. Ringing the pull bell – Angelus had a thing for the old fashioned – she waited a beat before one of the minions knocked. Spike entered their rooms just behind him wondering just what his lover had in mind for the chit. 

“Bring some hot food up, chicken soup preferably, fresh bread, tea and orange juice.” She instructed the vampire knowing her wishes would be carried out no matter the cost. She truly loved having that kind of power back. It just wasn’t the same when she had been on her own. 

“I’ll expect it here in no longer than forty-five minutes.” She finished before swirling around in a whirl of skirts and lace and disappearing into the bathroom once again. John, the minion, scurried out to do her bidding. He may technically call Angelus and Buffy his masters, but he wasn’t stupid enough to go against one of their childer. 

“Dru, luv, what are you doing?” Spike asked, shedding his shirt as he followed her into the bathroom. 

“Our little star is sick, my Spike, we have to make her better. She can’t help us if she’s like this, weak and ill and so very tired.” 

Drusilla shut the taps off, and rolled her sleeves before going to get Dawn who was, by now, awake if not totally coherent. Leading the docile child to her bath, Drusilla hummed a bit to her, trying to soothe the girl as she helped her step into the monstrous tub. 

Spike watched in amazement as his black beauty bathed Dawn, washing the filth and grim out of her hair, scrubbing her skin until it shined and even getting under the ragged nails. He stood off to the side, sipping from his glass of wine as Drusilla dried her off in a large fluffy towel and sat her on their bed, methodically combing the wet locks free from tangles. 

He brought the tray of food – still hot of course – onto the bed and resumed his watching. Dawn ate everything Drusilla fed her mute and completely broken, but obedient to every suggestion. After her dinner, Drusilla filed her nails, brushed her hair again and took her back into the bathroom to brush her teeth. 

Once these necessary absolutions were completed, Drusilla settled the girl into their bed and lay beside her, still humming songs from her childhood. 

“Are you joining us, my Spike?” Her voice called to him. 

Shaking his head over the display he had just witnessed – and wouldn’t have believed had he not seen it with his own two eyes – Spike stripped to his boxers, for modesty sake though why now of all times he hadn’t a clue, and curled behind Drusilla. 

“Tomorrow, ducks, we get the chit her own bed.”
**********
Buffy was wrong. 

When they had first entered the room she figured the best way to play it was to be submissive, let him take control of the situation, and see what developed from there. So she stood, feet bare, dress flowing to just above her ankles, head bowed. But nothing happened. 

Confused but not willing to do or say anything just in case this was one of his tests, Buffy stayed by the bed, watching through her lashes as he undressed. Desire pooled low in her belly, flashing through her veins. He hadn’t allowed her to climax downstairs as she knew he wouldn’t and Buffy’s skin was all but crawling with unfulfilled lust. 

Angelus had such a magnificent body, hard and taunt without being overly muscled. Powerful thighs, elegant feet, large hands that held her closely in both pain and pleasure, and Buffy licked her lips at the sight. 

He was aroused but that was hardly surprising. Since the day she had risen they had been out of each other’s sight – and arms – barely longer than a few hours. Today they had spent the better part of the evening ‘entertaining’ and hadn’t had a chance for more than conversation since the sun set. 

“Buffy, are you going to stand there all day?” 

Okay now this was just weird. Any mention of Riley equaled Angelus showing his domination over her for an extended period of time. That’s the way it was and honestly Buffy didn’t mind so much. She love it when he controlled her, there was just something about surrendering to him that was incredibly erotic. 

“Ah…no?” Her eyes were locked with his knowing ones, the smirk on his face telling her that he knew exactly what she was doing. 

Walking to her, Angelus turned her around and unzipped the dress, running his hands over her soft flesh as his lips caressed the back of her neck. Once she had stepped out of the material, he draped it over the chair with his own recently discarded clothing for their vampire maid to take care of later. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, she hadn’t worn panties in ages and the dress wasn’t exactly bra-friendly, her stockings and shoes having been discarded hours ago. 

“What’s the matter, love?” His voice whispered along her skin and he swept the fall of hair to the side. She shivered at his touch, his unneeded breath. 

“I am a little…confused.” She admitted as the hands she had been admiring just a moment ago moved around her body to cup her breasts, fingers only tweaking the nipples that begged for his extended and undivided attention. 

“About what, Buffy?” Blunt teeth scraped down her spine, sinking gently into her ass, making her cry his name. She was shaking with need and he loved it. 

“Ahh…” What was the question? She couldn’t concentrate what with his lips tracing patterns along her hip and belly, his hands still teasing her breasts. Oh, right. “You know what I’m talking about, Angelus.” 

“Oh, I know, love, I know…but what makes you think that anything will come of it?” 

Buffy’s head fell back, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, hair trailing down her back to tickle the top of her thighs as Angelus spread her legs, tongue sneaking out to lick her clit, again teasing. 

“You not do anything about this?” She asked, breathless considering she didn’t actually need breath, knowing that neither of them had yet to say the man’s name. “I don’t…yes, there, oh, there…believe that.” 

“Why not?” Inserting one slender finger into her wet core, Angelus nibbled along her hip bone, moving slowly in and out of her. 

“Not…not like you, baby, you’re not ex-exactly one to let something like that go…” She whimpered again as he added another finger, his other hand massaging her clit in too short strokes, his mouth doing wonderful things to her skin. 

“Who says I am?” A third finger, so close, oh, she was so close… 

Am? Am what? “Angelus,” his name came out half way between worship and demand, “Angelus, love, please, please.” 

Grinning in triumph he bit down with blunt teeth on her clit, pumping his fingers faster in and out of her, listening to her cries. She shattered for him, inner muscles clamping around his fingers in delicious torment, his name echoing from her lips. Buffy’s knees gave out from under her and Angelus caught her sweeping her onto their bed, mouth attacking hers. 

Flipping her onto her stomach, raising her beautiful ass in the air, he placed several kisses on that part of her anatomy, again spreading her wide for him. Entering her in one swift thrust, Angelus called on all his centuries of control and stilled when she once more cried out. 

“What was that, love?” His voice was low, deceptive, whispering in her ear, tickling her collarbone and neck. 

“Angelus…” 

“Yes, my love?” 

“Angelus, please…”

His favorite part; nothing turned him on – well almost nothing, when she took charge of their lovemaking, and him, that was a huge turn on –like the sight and sound of his Buffy begging him. “Please what, love?” 

There was something that she wasn’t getting, Buffy knew that, but at the moment couldn’t figure out what it could be. “Move, fuck me, please, fuck me…” 

He glided in and out of her, each thrust bringing him deeper, harder. Draping himself over her back, Angelus grazed her back, lapping at the lines of blood that welled there. “Like this, love?” 

“Yes, Angelus, yes, harder, more…” Incoherent with need, Buffy could barely find the words to ask for what she wanted as she met his strokes. 

He moved faster, letting his reflexes take over, pumping into his mate so fast as to be a blur. Fingers tugged hard on her nipples, down her body to play with her clit again. Just as his own orgasm was about to thunder through him, Angelus sank his fangs into her neck, reopening the scar that adorned the side of her throat. 

Buffy pushed hard back against his hips one last time, crying out as her body convulsed around him, feeling his cool seed inside of her. 

She collapsed onto the bed, Angelus on top of her, trying to regain coherent thought. And that’s when it all became clear. The lack of his favored whips and chains, the absence of his demands for her to tell him to whom she belonged. 

Damn the man, he never did anything she expected. 

And, Buffy supposed, that was part of his charm. He showed her exactly what he meant to show her, that she was his and his alone, and did so in a way she wasn’t expecting and therefore wasn’t anticipating. 

“You’re always full of surprises, love,” Buffy said, turning her head to the side to look at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“I know,” he laughed, kissing the healing scar once more. “That’s why you love me.” 

She roughly flipped them over, rolling once, twice, off the bed with a loud crash that shook the lamp. Buffy closed her mouth over his, holding his arms to the side as she slid her body down his. 

“Only you, baby, only you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You do realize,” Angelus said later as they lay in bed, “That neither he nor Cordelia will give up easily.”

“I know, and that’s half the fun. Still, I’d hoped that we wouldn’t have to deal with any more of our friends until we have control of the city.” Buffy idly traced patterns on his chest as they talked. 

“I wasn’t expecting Riley, or rather, I was expecting to have to dig him out of the jungle to have my fun, but I have to agree with you on that. Still, I don’t think that they’ll make a move any time soon; the forces here are fractured, the army too many miles north to be of any help. There are probably some resistance cells here but I doubt they’re anything much.” 

“When do we begin?” Buffy asked, knowing that the original plan was for them to consolidate their power in LA within a couple of weeks after her big ‘coming out’ ball. She draped a leg across his, her head finding the hollow of his shoulder, listening to the rumble of his voice. 

“As soon as night falls. I don’t want to waste time and now it seems even more important that we begin as soon as possible. I’m not concerned with Riley and Cordelia, but I don’t want them to gather any more to their so called cause; give them too much time and they will.” 

“Just remember, Cordelia’s mine; she has some serious amends to make and I’m thinking that only by torturing her endlessly will I be satisfied.” 

Angelus smirked down at her, loving the way her mind worked, “Naturally.” 

Drawing the duvet over them, Angelus rested his cheek atop her head and said, “Sleep, my love, we have a city to conquer soon.”
**********
Buffy sat in their chair, watching as Angelus taunted Lilah. 

It wasn’t nearly as much fun as it had been when she had first arrived, but it didn’t lack its moments. And from the bored expression on his face, Angelus wasn’t getting much out of it either. Still, while the dieing lawyer had lost whatever mental torture entertainment value she had once had…that didn’t stop Angelus from enjoying the physical side of it. 

It had been several days since the ball and Tigerwoman was long dust; she had no capacity for pain and screamed like a banshee at Buffy’s first cut. It was just Jaclyn’s luck that Buffy loved to hear her scream and continued on. Eventually Buffy had broken her jaw – it was much easier than finding a gag – and tired of her. 

Instead of draining her dry, she had taken a newly sharpened stake and rammed it through Jaclyn’s dead heart. The sneer on Buffy’s face had been pure slayer and she loved every minute of it. Stretching Buffy wondered if she could entice Angelus to some sparring again this afternoon, she missed her daily workouts and found working out with her mate to be…exciting on a variety of levels.

Damon wasn’t nearly as lucky. 

He still hung from the chains, weak from lack of nourishment and blood loss, but still aware enough to please Saffir for a good while. She had yet to let Spike have a go at him, but did allow the other vampire to watch. Spike, for his part, enjoyed Damon’s suffering immensely, even if he wasn’t the one inflicting the pain. And he was just full of useful suggestions, some of which Saffir implemented with great abandon. 

“Buffy?” Angelus said over his shoulder, drawing her attention away from her thoughts and back fully on him. 

She wandered over to where he stood, trailing a hand over his firm ass as she looked at the all but broken woman. There was still a spark in her eyes but it was growing dimmer with each passing day, each meeting between her and her captor. Buffy tilted her head to the side, pondering Angelus’ unspoken question. 

Was there anything else she wanted done to Lilah? 

Yes, Buffy thought with a sly grin, oh yes there was. 

Drawing him away as he finished wiping his hands on a towel, Buffy sat Angelus down in the chair, straddling his hips as she contemplated all the pros and…there really weren’t any cons, to her plan. 

“I want to hear her beg,” she whispered in his ear, teeth closing on the lobe. 

Quirking an eyebrow at her statement, Angelus growled in arousal at her actions. “She hasn’t enough for you, love?” 

Lilah had given up any semblance of being in control a week before the ball; she may have still had a spark of defiance, but that’s all it was, a spark. She had screamed, begged, pleaded for her release, for the torment to end. It hadn’t worked of course, but she had done so nonetheless and that was what they were counting on. 

And in that time she realized a long ago conversation with Cordelia that she had forgotten until then, was true: she never had met the real Angelus. 

“No, I want you to build her up again, control her totally,” she licked the scar on his neck and smiled at the shiver that raced through him. “I want her to crawl when you tell her to, I want her to lick your boots clean, I want her to call you master and mean it, believe it absolutely, not just because it’s what she thinks you want her to say, but because she knows nothing else.” 

Angelus cupped her breasts through the thin silk of her top and kissed her roughly. “I used to be really good at that, baby, but I admit, I’ve been busy with…other things. We’ll give her a day or two, let her work up her strength again; it’s so much more fun when they think they’ve won, only to be beaten down to a much lower level.” 

Chuckling into his mouth, Buffy agreed. And couldn’t wait to watch.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure you heard correctly?” 

“Positive. I verified it with three separate sources, not an easy thing to do these days, let me tell you.” 

“And they all say the same thing?” 

“Yes, and they all seem terrified, too. And rightly so I should say, they – and we – have every reason to be afraid.” 

Quinten Travers looked at the man before him. Stefan Bard was younger than he appeared, but things had been hard on all of the Watcher’s Council these past years. And he was one of the finest operatives to come out of the council in a good long while. Smart, resourceful, he could think on his feet and still follow (most) of the laws of the council. 

“So one slayer has been turned and that damn vampire lost his soul. Again. And the army?” 

“Just south of the Yukon in Canada. They are doubling back but they were hit hard; losing their leaders, the fight to get to Canada, the winter there. Now this; I’m afraid that moral isn’t the best.” 

Actually moral was pretty much non-existent and they both knew that. But there was no point in saying the obvious and they both knew that, too. This latest news…was beyond discouraging. The fight had definitely taken a turn for the worse and honestly Quinten doubted…a great many things, not all of which he could admit, even to himself. 

“Do your sources say anything else?” 

“No, just that Angelus is back and Buffy is by his side. Er, well, actually…” Stefan trailed off, obviously more than reluctant to impart the rest of his findings. “There are unconfirmed rumors that…that…” 

Quinten looked at the stuttering man before him; whatever else Stefan was about to say it couldn’t be worse, could it? And why did he have this sinking feeling that he had just jinxed himself? And things had been going so well, too… 

“Well, go on then, say it.” Except he really didn’t want to hear it, Quinten knew he didn’t. 

“Rumors that…Mr. Giles has also been…turned.” 

Whatever color had been left in the face of the leader of the Watcher’s Council drained at that statement. Quinten was an old man, made older by the stress and hardship of the wars. He demanded respect of himself yet respected very few people in return. Rupert Giles was one of them. Buffy Summers another. 

One needn’t like those one respected, which was just as well considering that he could barely tolerate both watcher and slayer (former, good God, they were turned...) and knew they didn’t respect him in return. But he respected them, both because they banded together as a true team ought to, they were two of the most relentless fighters he had ever witnessed, and because they stood up to him…and won…and on more than one occasion.

Granted that grated a bit, the fact that they had had the nerve to defy him, Quinten Travers, and the Council he represented – and they worked for. But they stuck by their morals, no matter who they were up against, and that was really all one could ask of another being. 

“Turned…” Giles, my God, Giles…a vampire; Buffy was bad enough – and it was bad, but this…It was really too much and Quinten was glad he was already sitting. 

“There’s more…” Stefan really hated being the bearer of new, good or bad. Made him feel like a damn messenger; and nothing good ever came of the messenger. 

“More…?” There couldn’t possibly be, could there? 

“Their friend, the witch…she’s been as well. And two of Angelus’ childer seem to be back in the fold.” 

To say this wasn’t his day would have been an enjoyable laugh. To say that he had just received the worst news he could possibly have ever heard in his life…that would have been accurate. 

“And you think that they’re all living in Los Angeles?” Quinton’s voice was scarcely a whisper but he couldn’t bring himself out of shock long enough to care. 

Half of their most competent leaders had been turned into vampires and one had lost his soul, reverting into the vicious monster he had once been. While it was true that Quinten never cared for the vampire, had indeed once refused to offer any kind of help when he was dieing, the Powers had decreed him important to the final battles and they were the absolute last word there was on any matter. 

The Powers…how could they have not stopped this? What kind of magicks were used to rid Angel of his soul and Buffy…? To Quinten’s knowledge there had never been a slayer who was turned. Which begged the question, who had turned her? The why, though, seemed obvious. 

Still, didn’t they realize that Buffy Summers was hardly the following sort? What horror had they unleashed upon the world? 

“Should we prepare to leave, Mr. Travers’?” Stefan asked, dreading the answer. It wasn’t that he didn’t want some action, but he wasn’t sure the outcome of this particular endeavor was going to be in their favor. 

“No, Stefan, no.” Quinten leaned back in his plush chair, a chair that had sat behind this desk for generations and one in which he had spent a good many years. “There’s no use for that, is there? Our going there will only serve one purpose: getting us, and anyone we take with us, killed.” 

Forcing himself to rise, Quinten wandered to the windows, absently looking at the view below. The poor souls down there had no idea what had happened several thousand miles from their sheltered lives. Had no idea that what they thought was, wasn’t nearly everything. 

“We need to prepare a defense first, gather as many as you can, we’re going to need all the help we can get…” 

For Hell had come to Earth.
**********
The City of Angels never knew what hit it.                       

Paul and Saffir had been given the brief story of who Riley and Cordelia were, they were immortal, true, but no one had that much time for the whole story; the Cliffs Notes version as Willow called it – and then spent the next five minutes explaining to Paul what Cliffs Notes were. Besides the rest wasn’t their business – it wasn’t anyone’s but Angelus and Buffy’s but that never did work out – but they understood enough to not interfere with the plan for the duo. 

Angelus had instructed several of their minions to remain at the mansion, not so much out of concern that anyone was going to break in but he didn’t want to take the chance that they get dusted. They had been trained for the domestic aspects of their masters’ lives and Angelus didn’t want to lose them so soon. 

It was so hard to find good help. 

Besides, Dawn was now living in a small room near Drusilla and needed to be watched. Again, not that anyone was worried she’d suddenly come to her senses and try something, but because the child was needed. 

The eight of them each knew their roles, it was a simple plan, really: start in the center and work concentrically outwards. The vampire and demon community was first, gain as many allies as possible through whatever means necessary. 

The humans could wait until all the demons were allied – or annihilated. There was some debate as to that; control everyone at once or do it in stages? The stages plan seemed best; no one wanted their resources spread too thin at such an important and early phase of their plan. 

It took four days. 

Four day to subjugate, conquer, vanquish, or entice those demons the Army of Light hadn’t killed or driven out of the city and surrounding areas to their way of thinking. 

The sewers had been mapped out as best as could be by Willow and her computer, and Angelus’ memories from his original stay before these end battles. They had been given to Spike and Drusilla – who had decades of experience with sewers – and several dozen minion/foot soldiers with the intent that any demon living, squatting, or hiding there be…made aware of the new rulers. 

Some of the non-vampire demons balked at such a thing as a Vampire (of all things, really, what a bunch of hybrids) as their leader, but Spike took great joy in changing their minds. 

Those who refused to submit were given the same warning: be out of town by sunrise. 

They’d have to, of course, check to make sure their ultimatum was heeded, but that could be left to the stronger of the minions. Or maybe some new allies, the best way, after all, to test loyalty was to test it against their own. 

The other six worked the streets; Downtown LA and Chinatown first, then out to Alhambra and El Sereno, Pico Heights, Westlake, West LA, Echo Park, Hancock Park, Silverlake, and Koreatown; East LA, South Central, South Gate, and USC; Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Pasadena, the San Gabriel and San Fernando Valleys; Burbank, Glendale, Brentwood, Inglewood, the coast from Santa Monica to Anaheim. 

On the fourth day Angelus and Buffy stood on the Santa Monica Pier still several hours before sunrise and just after Angelus had given a variation on his ‘we’re going to rule the world’ speech, surveying those before them. 

The only humans brave – or foolish – enough to venture out this night were eager to serve the strongest leader. History was filled with those whose loyalties fluctuated between interests, always looking out for themselves. Some gathered would survive long, passing down whatever power and position they traded their souls acquired to the next generation willing to do the same. 

Others wouldn’t be so lucky, but that was the survival of the fittest theory. 

Between those vamps they had made in the intervening weeks, Drusilla’s group, which she had sent for right after Buffy fully accepted her back into the family, and Paul and Saffir’s family, there were enough to ensure that even the large assemblage never got close enough to the pier to do any harm. 

Plus there was the demon, Toga’sha, Paul’s personal bodyguard, who had pledged his allegiance not to Angelus and Buffy, but simply to Buffy, mistress of the new family. Apparently he believed that she was the superior warrior. 

So now they stood together, Angelus and Buffy, Spike, Drusilla, and Saffir on Angelus’ left, Giles, Willow, and Paul on Buffy’s right making a formidable sight. 

Buffy smiled at the demons shouting her name; word had spread and quickly that the most famous Vampire Slayer in centuries had been turned and Mated to Angelus who had enjoyed decades as the renowned Scourge of Europe. The fact that both had worked, relentlessly, for the other side meant nothing to the now crowding demons once it was learned of their new status. 

It was amazing what the lack of a soul, a few carefully chosen words, and a stunning number of victories in a handful of days could mean. 

She could feel the satisfaction coursing through her mate, the approval of their words, the knowledge that this was only the beginning and what a wonderful beginning it was. The take over had been fairly easy, too many demons were tired of the battles, of leaders that continually lost and who knew nothing on how to rectify that situation. 

They were, in short, ready to follow a charismatic leader who promised – and could seemingly deliver – what every demon since the dawn of man had always wanted. A return to the old ways when demons ruled the planet; or were at least unified enough to attempt to do so. 

Every army had incompetent leaders and the longer the battles went on, the more the darkness lost. The more they lost, the more competent leaders they lost, leaving the idiots in charge. Which was probably how Belinda got Wolfram & Hart to listen to her in the first place. 

“What do you think; ‘the together we are strong’ part? Nice line there, by the way, Sire.” Spike said, using Angelus’ title out of deference to their current positions in front of a large collection of demons who valued hierarchy when what he really wanted to call him was Peaches, and smirking at the group below. Humans weren’t the only ones who believed whatever they were told. 

Shaking his head Giles disagreed, “No, no definitely the ‘this is our world and we don’t share it with lesser beings’ part. Though I do admit, Spike, that was a good line.” 

Spike nodded at the former watcher, doing his best not to dwell on the fact that they were all family now. Too bizarre. He glanced at Angelus who was looking at Buffy, listening to the shouts of her (and his) name. The pouf always did want to be worshipped; guess now was his chance. 

“How about the whole ‘I’ve taken the strongest slayer in five centuries as my Bonded Mate’? That had to get them.” Saffir commented from the side, still not completely comfortable with – or understanding of – the family she now found herself a part. 

“Hmm, perhaps, slayers have always been considered the ultimate tool for good, and with one now a vampire and Joined with Angelus…it had to have sparked a belief in what we’re proposing.” Giles nodded at his lover, sending her a smile that stirred her dormant blood. 

Drusilla cooed just then, sounding remarkably childlike considering she was over 150 years old. “Ah, ah, ahh, the silly seer sees what we have secured…she sees what is soon and knows what is now.” 

“What’s with the alliteration?” Buffy asked, turning to her mate but still enjoying the adulation from their followers. 

Shrugging Angelus gave her a look that clearly said anything Drusilla did was beyond him and said, “I have no idea,” before turning back to his childe. “Dru, do you mean that Cordelia received a vision? A vision of us and what we did?” 

Laughing Drusilla nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd. “She saw, she sees, she knows. She’s scared but determined, thinking that she can still win…she’s wrong you know, she’s wrong. She can’t because she’s already lost, there’s no more within her, and she can’t fight it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Physically she wasn’t lost, emotionally she knew right where she was…spiritually she hadn’t a hope in hell of recovering from what she had just witnessed. 

The vision had wracked through her, stronger than the last one she had had before becoming part demon.  Scent, taste, feel, sound, sight, Cordelia had it all, felt everything, saw things she wished she hadn’t, heard the shouts of ‘Angelus and Buffy’ as they looked, victorious, at the crowd below. 

It hadn’t taken long to get to Santa Monica; even in LA people didn’t drive at three in the morning with weird wars going on around them and demonic doings happening everywhere. (What was with her and the alliteration crap?) By the time she and Riley pulled close (Cordelia hadn’t asked where he had procured the car) enough to see, she wished she hadn’t. 

Thousands of demons…well, hundreds maybe, how many could be left on the coast, anyway? But they were there, gathered at the base of the pier, chanting loud enough to wake the dead. Cordelia winced at the thought, but continued to stare, unbelieving, through the binoculars Riley had brought – where he had gotten those, Cordelia also had no idea. 

“Angelus! Buffy! Slayer!” Over and over and over again the words rang around them, making her blood run cold.

She should turn around, run as fast as she could, maybe to a nice little uninhabited island someplace and forget she had ever seen…this. 

“We are so screwed, Riley,” she whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear her though she was a good distance from the edge of the crowd.

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