Addiction to Each Other

Darla looked over her journals, reading the past few years’ worth of frustrations. And plans.  

Oh, she had plans. Plans for that insipid little human, plans to get rid of Buffy, plans to take back her place in Nest’s life. The place Darla had before she, she had brought the girl to Nest. Thought she was bringing her Sire a treat, a potential slayer and all the power inherent in that. Ha! What did it get her? 

Nothing but aggravation, aggravation and exile, and it was partly her own fault. Oh, Buffy was to blame; Darla wouldn’t put it past the girl to have put some kind of spell on the Master. But that wasn’t the point. No, Darla needed to get rid of Buffy. Permanently. 

The only way to do that was to kill her. The only way to do that was to get close to her. And therein lay problem. Buffy was well protected, too well protected. And she was strong. Nest had had her trained from a young age in every imaginable weapon and fighting technique, and the bitch was very good at all of it. She picked up on each new lesson, practicing until she could nearly best the trainer.  

It was…disheartening. But not daunting. 

Darla was nothing if not determined. 

But there was another problem. Angelus. Angelus had taken a liking to the human, and that was something Darla couldn’t abide. Why? Why the human? Why this child? Sure, he and Darla hadn’t got along since she’d grown afraid of his increasing power and tried to curtail it.  

Okay, so she hadn’t known the gypsy punishment was going to be a soul. Darla shuddered…how awful would that have been? 

But it hadn’t happened now, had it? 

No. And why? Because her dear, dear boy was stronger than that. And, yes, he blamed Darla, but really…it was the way things were. Sires were not to be afraid of their childer. It was unheard of. It was nearly impossible, too, and yet Angelus had managed to do just that. To grow powerful enough that even Nest took notice.  

Powerful enough that Darla had a suspicion Nest was going to allow Angelus to rule in his place…worse, to allow that insipid human to rule beside Angelus. That was unacceptable. Completely and totally unacceptable. Darla wasn’t going to allow that.  

Even if she had to kill her own Sire and take over Aurelius herself. Which was a brilliant plan, if she did say so herself…
~~~~~~~~~~
And Four More Years Later 

Buffy leapt out of the way of a flying arrow. 

She was good, she knew that; she was strong and fast, and able to think quickly on her feet. But the four vamps currently attacking her in the booby-trapped training room were another matter entirely. Her instructor, Master Pang, looked on from the shadows, standing quietly on the balcony above the room. Buffy was sure his face was as stoic as always, posture still as the vampire he was, and probably disapproving.  

He usually was. 

But he was the best – human or demon – at what he did, and Nest wanted only the best for his daughter. Including, Buffy thought as her sword swung in an arc decapitating the nearest unlucky vamp, training for her new job as his assassin. 

Which may, she conceded beheading a second vamp, have been her doing. She had wanted to be trained in the martial arts Angelus showed her on one of his annual month long visits to court. It was a while ago, maybe the second year he’d come, and Buffy had been captivated. He moved so smoothly, so gracefully, and she would watch him for hours as he went through the moves over and over again, just because she’d asked him to. 

Apparently, she was better than anyone suspected, possessing a style and grace that far exceeded her then seven years.  

In the years since that day, she begged her father to teach her, or find one capable of doing so. As always, he had acquiesced to her requests. Buffy had grown proficient at a wide variety of weapons, and had learned several kinds of martial arts. 

It was survival of the fittest and Buffy wasn’t about to lose. The last two vampires fell in quick succession, and as Buffy completed the circle she had spun in to decapitate them, she stopped in front of Master Pang, bowing. She stayed that way as he jumped from the balcony, all grace and power, to land before her. He raised an eyebrow and clapped twice, walking forward to where she still stood, her breathing slightly heavy, her sword still clutched in her grasp. 

“Acceptable, Princess,” he complimented her, and coming from him it was high praise indeed. It was, Buffy reflected as he circled her, the first time he had actually done so. 

“You still drop your left shoulder, but your skill with the katana is almost unmatched. I noticed that you are distracted, however, and I wonder why that is.”

But he didn’t give her a chance to answer, not that she had a satisfactory one for him in any case. She straightened, and listened to his no doubt long lecture on her faults. It was always something, but at least she elicited praise from him this time. That was a first. 

“Do you wish to bring shame to your father? Do you wish to be like every other slayer called, and die within a year? Distractions will do you no good, Princess; you need to focus all your attention on the hunt, on finding and eliminating your prey as quickly and quietly as possible.” 

Buffy said nothing, standing straight and silent as Pang continued to circle her, critiquing her style in as minute detail as he could manage. Not because he was worried about her in her supposed slayer duties, Buffy didn’t even know if she was going to be called as a slayer.  

It was unlikely, both Spike and Nest agreed, that she would be called – while the Watcher’s Council had no say in which of their potentials were selected, they often stacked fate in their favor. With Buffy missing from the world for so long, it was doubtful they’d allow her to be called. And if they knew what she’d been up to the past years, they’d have her hunted and killed. 

Buffy didn’t care about that. She was taught to hate and revile the Watcher’s Council, and to respect and, yes, even love the vampire underworld. So she was called as the slayer, so what? It wasn’t a big deal, she reasoned. Then she’d be just that much stronger then, and able to carry out her father’s missions that much better.  

No, Pang criticized because she was to go on her first mission in the morning, one week before her thirteenth birthday party. Shame on the pupil brought shame to the Master. A distracted pupil was apt to get herself killed. 

She knew she was distracted, but Buffy couldn’t help it. Her mind refused to focus completely on the task at hand, though she wanted badly to tell Pang that she was so much better than the opponents he set against her that she didn’t need all her concentration.  

It was her birthday. It wasn’t so much the party anymore as it was the guests, well, one guest in particular, that caught her attention. She eagerly awaited Angelus’ arrival.  

He always came three days before her birthday. Usually taking care of whatever business he needed to before her party, then spending the rest of his stay almost solely with her. Buffy couldn’t imagine him not being there, he’d always been such a part of her life. A lot of the reason she wanted to train was because of him. She wanted to please him, and then Buffy could convince him to stay longer than a month. 

The other eleven months between visits, while busy, were often lonely. 

Pang dismissed her from their afternoon session, and Buffy set about cleaning her weapons and performing her cooling down exercises, her mind still on Angelus.  

She had long ago learned she was different from the others her father ruled, knew he wasn’t her real father, or rather her biological father – vampires couldn’t father children. She was human, the species her family hunted for sport and food. However, Buffy was above them, above those measly humans who knew nothing about her world. 

Nest called it Fate. Fate and Destiny had allowed her to be brought to him. To further both his rule, and to cement her place in the world.  

It just was, it always was that way, and always would be. 

Once, she’d asked Dru why she was the only human in court. Dru hadn’t wanted to tell her, but Buffy was nothing if not persistent.  

“You have been chosen, my Princess,” Drusilla had whispered, looking fearfully around Buffy’s ornately decorated rooms. “You have special gifts, the potential to be a slayer, my dear.” Dru’s hand ran down Buffy’s hair in an affectionate gesture.  

“Your father, he wanted you from the moment you two met. You were strong even then, and brave. And he knew you’d be his daughter. Fate,” she sighed, giggling slightly. “Fate brought the two of you together.” 

Father and daughter, vampire and human. In the end, it didn’t matter. He was her daddy, and she his precious Buffy. Buffy didn’t care what circumstances brought them together, she didn’t care why or how, or anything other than he was her father, and she loved him. And knew that he loved her in return.  

A tingling rushed through her, just then, and Buffy’s head shot up, eyes scanning the immediate area.  

She knew that feeling, knew that rush of affection and the sense of completeness that accompanied it. Angelus was nearby. Why she felt that way only with him, she couldn’t have said, and really didn’t care.  

Buffy knew her father had some kind of plan for them, but wasn’t entirely sure what it was or, for that matter, if Angelus knew of it. Nest had to be aware of his daughter’s feelings for the vampire, she had never bothered to hide them, didn’t see any reason to. Angelus on the other hand…he was a very different story. 

Buffy was under no illusion he had, in any way, been celibate these last years, but that hardly mattered to her. That was what vampires did, what and who they were. If someone so much as touched her, they’d be dead, but that had more to do with rank than anything else. Her father was so overprotective. 

Still, whenever Angelus visited her, he never took a partner, and for that she was grateful. She’d have had to kill the woman.
~~~~~~~~~~
One More Year Later 

Standing patiently, fourteen-year-old Buffy watched as yet more people came to pay their respects to her father…and some to her. Humans, demons, sorcerers, everyone and anyone with a stake in their world was in attendance for her birthday celebration. 

She hated these things, hated that she was forced to endure these lower beings as they tried to get into her father’s good graces and hers as well. More than one had attempted to get into her pants, too, to enjoy the human in Nest’s court, but they had underestimated her.  

Not one had lived to tell the tale of their failure.  

Nest had left nothing to chance. Besides schooling Buffy in several forms of self-defense, he had made sure she enjoyed all the book knowledge her eager young mind could absorb. She was bright, he mused as he absently listened to yet another petitioner, quick with many of the concepts her tutors taught, and eager to please her father. But most importantly, she was excellent when it came to strategies.  

It was a natural gift he had exploited to the fullest, using her not only to plan his moves throughout the city, but sometimes to implement them, too. Young even by human standards, she was a skilled fighter, possessing a natural grace and ability that was probably only partially due to the fact that she was a potential slayer. 

And right now, he noted with a smile on his twisted face, she looked bored.  

But, being the semi-obedient child she was, merely sat there, at his right hand, as regal as a queen and as observant as a general. It no longer amazed Nest, as he listened to the lower vampire prattle on and on about mergers and acquisitions, that he trusted this human child so much. Trusted her to ensure his interests where he could not, trusted her with his finances and his minions. 

Trusted her with the only affection he could remember holding. She was truly worthy to be his second in command, his daughter. 

The petitioners eventually dwindled, then stopped, and he turned to his daughter in the now empty room. “The Order of The Danes, are they worth the alliance?” 

“No, father,” she scoffed. “They are weak, unable to hold off their enemies on their own, their loss of territory is their own fault. However,” Buffy paused, as a minion brought blood for Nest and a chalice of wine for her. She waited until the minion left, and it was once more she and her father.  

Sipping her wine thoughtfully, she continued, “Weakness in this case isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Allying ourselves with them, now, when they need us provides a unique opportunity.”

“How so, my dear?” He so enjoyed her devious mind.

“They are weak, as I’ve said. They need a Master who is not afraid of change, of bloodshed, of using the power he controls to see to his interests. A simple takeover; as their only ally it will be easy to discover their secrets and exploit them.” 

Laughing, for he had pondered much the same strategy, Nest said, “Luke, then, he’s grown bored here and I have no wish to see him become so discontented he turns on us.”  

Sighing, Buffy nodded. “Yes, I agree. It will do him well…but I shall miss him.” 

“Would you like to accompany him, my dear?” Nest asked, suddenly curious as to Buffy’s feelings towards his most trusted childe. 

“No, this is an easy enough job for him. Luke is excellent at what he does, and doesn’t need me there.” But Buffy would still miss him. 

Luke was often her companion when she went to the surface of LA, wandering the many shops and seeing the unique sights the city boasted. Sometimes Spike accompanied her, and Drusilla, but he was often with Angelus these days. Luke didn’t mind his new job, but both knew that Buffy could handle herself. It was Nest who insisted Luke accompany her everywhere above ground. 

Fond as she was of Luke, maybe with him gone, Angelus would spend more time with her. While quite a nice thought, Buffy refused to make herself so weak when it came to Angelus that she could be exploited. It wasn’t in her nature, and she wasn’t about to let the Master that Angelus had become dominate her in any way. 

She wanted him; it wasn’t even a question of that. But she didn’t want him at the price of herself. And Buffy was very much afraid that could easily happen. It wasn’t a lack of confidence in herself that scared her. It was the very simple fact that what Angelus wanted he simply took. Was he stronger than she? It was something Buffy wondered, but didn’t have a decisive answer for. 

He had over two centuries on her, so there was strength there, in knowing himself, in knowing facets of himself that she wasn’t even aware existed. Not yet. And therein lay the kernel of Buffy’s unease. Yes, she wanted him. Loved him with a depth of feeling that frightened her. he challenged her, he provoked her, he protected her, and he – she was certain – cared for her more than any other.  

Love was another matter, and one Buffy was willing to…to what? Wait for? No, she didn’t want to wait for his love. He either did or didn’t, plain as that. But if there was one fact she learned over the years, vampires could love, they were often unsure of how to acknowledge it, let alone express it.

Standing, Nest offered Buffy his arm, bringing her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Now then, daughter, let’s join the party. I understand Angelus has finished his business early, and is waiting to see you.” 

Giving her father a bright smile, she allowed him to escort her to the ballroom. Hey, just because she wasn’t about to meekly submit to Angelus didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to see him.  

And she never suspected that the next stage of Nest’s plan concerning she and Angelus was about to be put into motion.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nest watched Buffy walk from group to group, talking and laughing with the various well-wishers. Her birthday celebration had started out simply as a way to spread the word that he, Master Nest, had a human child and that she was to be treated with the same respect and fear shown him.

It had worked; there was no doubt about that.

Buffy was considered the finest non-demon assassin in the Western Hemisphere, and Nest took great pride in that. More to the point, Angelus took great pride in that, and spent more and more of his time here in court instead of gallivanting around the world in some vain attempt to pretend he didn’t care.  

The younger vampire had arrived nearly a month before Buffy’s birthday celebration this time, Nest noted. Oh, he’d insisted he had business to attend to, but had stayed in his normal quarters, and had spent most of his time with Buffy. 

Wasn’t it just perfect, Nest thought as Buffy again wandered to Angelus. The two of them laughed over something no one else could hear, bodies turned toward each other, blocking out the rest of the crowd. Yes, wasn’t it perfect that they seemed so amendable to his plans? 

It was a shame that he’d have to test Angelus now, and break up the perfect couple.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy wandered into the shadows of the great hall, following her instincts to Angelus.  

She never questioned how she always knew where he was, merely chalked it up to one of the many things she simply knew. Probably some kind of pre-slayer thing. 

He was there, watching her from the shadows. His brown eyes were dark as always, but flecked with the reds and golds of torchlight. Standing still as a statue, she felt him watching her, following her every move. It was what drew her to him, it was what always drew her to him. When their eyes locked, he smiled that knowing half smile that made her knees weak and Buffy took another step closer.  

No, there was no denying it; she was enchanted with him. Craved his company as much as she craved the knowledge of his lips on hers, his cool hands on her warm skin. Her eyes followed him whenever they weren’t together, tracking his movements as she would any prey. Prey, yes. Maybe that was how she should look at their dance.  

They were both predators, and yet in this instance, both prey. Buffy smiled, slow, confident, and took another stop into the darkness. Prey, yes. Sexual prey, emotional prey. But not in the traditional way – she had no intention of using Angelus, nor of being used by him.  

Sharing. Wasn’t that what it was all about? Wasn’t that what a relationship was? And Buffy fully intended on having a mutually satisfying relationship with Angelus. Very satisfying. 

“Why are you hiding in the shadows?” Her voice was quiet and low so as not to carry along the halls. She knew these caves as intimately as she desired to know Angelus, and knew the exact pitch of her voice to keep this conversation private.

“Waiting,” he admitted, and then looked like he hadn’t wanted to admit that.

“For what?” 

“Everyone to leave,” he laughed, looking down at the masses who had assembled for her party. 

“Why do you always come, Angelus? If you don’t desire their company, then why are you here?” Buffy asked, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she did so. Thankfully it was dark enough that she was sure even Angelus couldn’t detect the blush. 

“Because it’s your birthday,” and he said it as if she should have already known that. Her knees were weak again. 

“You and daddy don’t get along,” she pointed out. 

“True,” it’d be pointless to deny it. “But I enjoy your company.” She sent him a brilliant smile, and Angelus knew it was the time to admit that. “Do you wish me to leave, Buffy?” 

He rarely called her that, always using the nickname he began when she was so young. Buffy mutely shook her head, and moved to his side. “No,” she murmured. “No, I don’t.” 

Together they watched the party from their hiding place on the balcony. The silence was interrupted only by the muffled sounds of the celebration below, but neither seemed to notice.  

She shifted so her head lay against his arm, and Angelus made no move to push her off. Knew he couldn’t. She was so close now, her scent was all he could detect, the beat of her heart, the roar of her blood all called to him. He’d resisted her for far too long as it was. 

Angelus wasn’t sure when his feelings for Buffy changed. When it was more than protectiveness, more than a need to see the vivacious child survive and thrive in her demon environment. Was it slow? A slow change of mind over time, over seeing her for weeks on end? Or was it fast? One moment he saw her after months of absence, only to realize that his mind-set towards the loved and adored human child of a vicious killer had changed.

Mindset. Thoughts. Was that all he felt? Was that…? Dismissing, nay suppressing that line of reasoning, Angelus tiled Buffy’s chin, watched her eyes widen, darken, heard her heart race, felt – yes felt – her blood rush through her. And wanted her more than anything in his life. 

He brought his mouth down on hers, hungry, desperate. His body was tight for her, coiled with tension he’d held in tight reign for months, now.  

Buffy’s breath caught. She’d never been kissed before, hadn’t wanted to be by anyone other than Angelus. She’d fantasized about how his mouth would feel on hers to many times to count, but the reality far outstripped those naïve imagings. The weaklings who wanted her, or wanted her because of her position as Nest’s daughter, held no interest for her. 

Angelus’ kiss promised they never would. 

It was heat and passion and fire, and threatened to send Buffy up in flames. She opened her mouth under his, feeling the contrast of his cool tongue against hers, his large hands on her bare shoulders, equally cool. And protective. Drawing her further into the shadows, Angelus continued to kiss her, promising her unimaginable delights and passionate heights she could only glance at now. 

“Buffy,” he whispered, drawing away from her too-tempting heat. 

“Why did you stop?” Her voice was breathless, and Buffy clung to him as if afraid to let go. Or hoping that when she did, he’d be there to catch her. 

Now, with everything she wanted from him within her grasp, the fear that had plagued her reasoning for so long was gone. Buffy knew what she wanted, and that was Angelus.  

For a long moment, Angelus said nothing, but she could feel his control slipping. He was always so still, his will bending only to his own mind, never anyone else’s. His fingers clenched on her shoulders, briefly showing the force of his passion, his failing restraint, before he forced himself to release her.  

Angelus swallowed, tasted her again. Wanted her more. Actually, he’d never wanted anything so much as he wanted Buffy, but, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t simply going to take. She wanted him in return, he knew that. But it didn’t matter.

With her, there were rules he was going to follow. If for no other reason than she meant more to him than anything ever had. Angelus wasn’t sure what that was, a need to possess her, to be sure, but he suspected it was something deeper. Except he had no immediate desire to probe what that deeper was. 

The fingers of one hand reaching up to cup her cheek and trace her soft, silky skin. He bent again, mouth hungry on hers, demanding and promising, and Buffy returned the kiss, more than willing to do so.  

“Angelus.” The word was a whisper, spoken on a breath that tasted of him, and that begged for more. 

“I have to speak with your father, Buffy.” But he didn’t draw away from her. He took a deep breath, then another. All he could detect was her. It in no way alleviated his need to take her against the wall until she screamed his name and forgot everything else.  

“Daddy?” she wondered. “Why?” 

“Because I don’t want to sleep with you without his permission, baby.” He smiled at her, noting the pleased and stunned look on her face. “And while I’m sure I can survive whatever he sends after me, I’d rather spend that time in bed, with you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Angelus,” Nest said jovially as the younger vampire entered the Master’s personal quarters.  

Not many had ever seen the rooms. Most were grateful for that. Though large and beautiful, when one entered, one usually didn’t leave. Angelus wasn’t bothered by that prospect, but he was curious as to why the Master of Aurelius wished to hold a private meeting with him in his quarters. 

And before Angelus had the chance to request a meeting, himself.  

“You wished to see me?” He could have added Master, or even Sire, but Angelus chose not to. He didn’t like Nest, though Angelus did hold a certain respect for the old bat. And he was Buffy’s father. For that and that alone, Angelus would tolerate whatever the vampire had to say. 

“Hmm, yes. Sit,” Nest gestured. “Blood-wine?” Angelus shook his head, and Nest got down to it. “You’re spending more time at court, in my territory.” 

So that was it, Angelus thought. This was what Nest wanted to talk with him about. Not his passion for Buffy, but his place in Nest’s Court. Typical. “Apparently, yes,” he drawled. “And now, you’re going to make me work for the position I already hold?”

Nest raised an eyebrow at Angelus’ attitude, unsurprised by his words. This was going to go better than he’d originally thought, Nest silently laughed. But then when it came to Buffy, Angelus was more than a little touchy. And overprotective, even more so than Nest. 

“What do you want from here, Angelus?”

“Want?” he laughed. “I want nothing you have to offer me, Nest. I have all I require; power, position, and loyalty.” 

“That’s all you want?” Nest scoffed. 

No, it wasn’t all he wanted. Angelus wanted Buffy more than all that. He wanted her more than anything in the world, and yet was trapped asking her father’s permission. Any other creature in this world, and he wouldn’t have bothered, no matter the position of the girls’ father. But Buffy was different, as was her place in society. 

She was special, and there was one thing Angelus would never do. He’d never let any harm come to her; if that meant he had to play Nest’s little game, then he would. If that meant asking Nest’s permission to court Buffy, then Angelus would. Because to demand Buffy choose between he and Nest was something that she should never have to do, and Angelus wouldn’t ask her. 

That fell under the heading of having harm come to her. 

“What are you getting at, old man?” Angelus demanded.

“I know how you feel about my daughter,” Nest said slowly, his black eyes piercing Angelus. “But she’s young,” he continued. “For now, she’s human, and young even by their standards.” 

Stiffening, Angelus waited, but Nest said nothing more. So he knew Angelus’ feelings towards Buffy, so what? What was he getting at? “Yes,” Angelus agreed, no inflection in his voice.  

But for the first time, he wondered what he’d do if Nest truly did say no. He was wanted Nest’s permission, though didn’t necessarily need it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Nest refused. Take Buffy against her father’s will? A possibility, but Buffy adored her father. And again, he could cause Buffy no harm. 

An icy coldness settled in the vicinity of what he thought was his heart. He’d never actually felt before Buffy, so he wasn’t sure. Panic. Yes, that was what it was. Panic. He couldn’t take Buffy against her will, nor could he take her against the will of father she adored. Where the fuck did that leave him? 

Trapped in a damned mess of his own making. His own fault because if he didn’t care for Buffy as much as he did, then none of this would’ve mattered, and he’d already be buried in her wet heat. 

“Buffy’s still young by any standards,” Angelus acknowledged. “But you raised her yourself. She’s strong and knows her own mind; she’s confident in herself and her destiny.” 

“Indeed,” Nest nodded, a smile playing around his twisted mouth. Leaning forward, he demanded, “What do you want from my daughter?” 

“That,” Angelus snarled, “is none of your concern, old man.” A smirk crossed his face, and anger had him saying things he normally wouldn’t. But then he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted Buffy. “And I’d think that, as her father, you wouldn’t want to know the details of how I plan to introduce her into our world.” 

“You are not to have any contact with her,” Nest announced, leaning back in his chair. Cold fury emanated from Angelus. His hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes flashed golden, but he remained seated. 

“She enjoys your company,” he allowed, “but I want no further displays of affection such as the one I witnessed tonight in the balcony shadows.” 

“Spying, Nest?” Angelus taunted. “Worried that I’d take her out in the open? That I’d fuck her against the cave wall where any minion plebe could see her?” 

Nest laughed, and Angelus anger notched higher. He was going to kill the old man. He was going to kill him right here and now, and probably not even care. Definitely not even care. He was going to murder Buffy’s father.  

Buffy’s father. That stopped him. She loved the old bastard, more than Angelus realized anyone could love. Were her feelings for him that strong? Were they strong enough to survive Nest’s murder? Because Angelus was positive that was exactly what he was going to do.  

Kill Nest. 

“I have more faith in you than that,” he assured the furious vampire. Angelus still saw red. Black – he saw the black of Nest’s dust spread over his damned throne. “You’d never do that to her, never take her like a common whore. Never expose her to something such as that. It’s not in you, or not,” he amended at Angelus’ growl, “in you when it comes to my daughter.”

“And yet,” Angelus drawled, seething even as he tried to control his temper. He couldn’t kill Buffy’s father.  

Yet. In the open where others knew he was the only one in Nest’s chambers. He had to be subtle about it. Sneaky as it were, though that grated nearly as much as listening to the bastard talk now. He wasn’t sneaky, though he could be, but preferred the openness of everyone knowing it was he, Angelus, who had done this. 

“You insist that I not see her any more. I’m forced to wonder why that is.” he leaned forward, face shifted, eyes hard gold. “Afraid I’ll take over your throne, old man?” 

Again, Nest smiled. “Is that what you want? Is that why you want Buffy?” 

Another growl from Angelus assured Nest he’d been right all along. There was something more between his daughter and Angelus, more than simple lust, though that was rarely simple.  

 “And Angelus,” Nest cautioned, “I want not one word of this repeated to her.” 

Without a word, Angelus turned on his heel and left the room. He didn’t care if Nest hadn’t dismissed him, and he certainly didn’t care if the cursed bastard sent assassins after him for that. At least it’d give him a damned convenient excuse to kill the ass. 

That didn’t go at all how Angelus wanted. He simply wanted to ask Nest’s permission to court Buffy, to take her as his mate, and…wait. Mate? Where the hell had that come from? Shaking his head, vision hazy as he stormed down the hall, he pushed that thought aside. No, instead Nest had forbidden him from seeing her, had all but threatened Angelus with death, should he continue his pursuit of Buffy. 

“Damn it!” He roared, fist flying through the air to land into the thick bedrock walls of the caverns. Angelus didn’t even notice. Again his fist flew out, and again and again. Finally exhausted, mind still racing, fury still pulsing, he slid to the floor. His hands were bloodied, but he didn’t care, didn’t even notice. The hall was empty, but he didn't bother to figure out what that was.  

He couldn’t stay away from her. 

It was impossible, something he’d proven time and again with every trip back to Nest’s court. His body craved her too much, called out for her whenever she wasn’t with him. He enjoyed the time they spent together, the arguments they had, the fun; training, reading, introducing her on poetry and art. Taking her to the surface, showing her the world up there Luke never had. 

Fuck Nest.  

He thought that by forbidding Angelus from seeing Buffy he would blindly obey? Fuck that. Angelus wasn’t like that; he made his own rules, played his own game. The only reason, the only reason that Angelus had bothered to even think about asking Nest permission to court Buffy was because of her. She adored her father, and to do otherwise would be a bad move on Angelus’ part. 

Now it was his only option. 

Nest listened with a smile playing around his features at Angelus’ fury. Ah, but it was a wonderful sound. Step two completed. Angelus wasn’t about to let Nest’s order to keep away from Buffy stop him, and that was exactly what Nest counted on. He wanted to make sure Angelus stayed, and the easiest and best way to do that, was to tell him he couldn’t have what he want most. 

Buffy.

It was only a matter of time, before Nest got what he wanted. Angelus and Buffy mated.

Next Part: Jealously at Its Finest