Spike and Drusilla pull into the Hellmouth just as the sun is beginning to rise. Driving under some heavy brush, Spike pulls his dark queen to him and settles for the day. Finally, after being bombarded with dreams compelling them to come to their sire's side — both find a moment of peace as their proximity to Angelus soothes them like nothing else can.
Buffy is still in the middle of Xander and Willow's bed. Curled into a tight ball, nothing will rouse her. Willow has tried, Angel has tried, and Xander has tried.
Angel has taken to pacing in the main room, while Xander is taking the longest shower in the history of the world. The coping mechanisms of both of these male vampires leaves a little to be desired as far as Willow is concerned. And yes, she reminds herself. She is bound them for all eternity. Can you say dysfunctional?
She quickly comes to the conclusion that for the time being, she is in charge. Mr. Broody is back and from all indications, Mr. Broody, Jr. is following in his Papa's footsteps.
Wishing to be practical, Willow has showered, dressed in the most regular clothes she can find — sweats — black sweats — but sweats none the less. Her hair in a ponytail, she can almost imagine that she is regular Willow. Well, except for the no reflection thing.
Taking a couple of promising texts, she goes to sit on the bed beside of Buffy. She figures that now that she's done with her soul returning assignment, the least the Powers that Be could do is send down some help for Buffy. Not one to wait, she dives into researching a way to summon Giles now — content to wait.
It didn't take long before Xander is pacing right along with Angel. Broody One and Broody Two. The earlier sparks of personality from them both have fizzled under the weight of their worry over Buffy.
Angel as her mate feels her withdrawal the most keenly of all. While he has not spoken to Buffy since her soul has been returned, he is receiving flashes of what is going on in her mind. Shock, grief, hatred — are all bombarding him. But most prevalent is her withdrawal from him. Physically, there is an ache growing ever larger inside of him. The demon inside of him is fighting to go and claim his mate — by force if necessary. He knows that he cannot do so that the rift would only grow worse. He has not shared this burden with his children.
He is somewhat envious of Angelus — of how simple things are without a conscious. This is another impulse to beat down. He would have thought that having his soul restored without curse or clause would be a source of great happiness but it is anything but. To be able to have Buffy — his Buffy - but to feel this retreat, this repulsion is unbearable. It is a thousand times worse than his own recrimination has ever been.
Xander picks up on the feelings of hopelessness emanating from Angel. The sudden need to provide comfort and solace to Dead Boy is alien to him. This impulse along with his memories of Angelus over the past few days — EEEWWWW — to borrow Buffy's expression. He so needs to get a handle on this. His own emotional confusion paired with his growing hunger cause his head to pound.
He paces to the refrigerator and a pint and makes the necessary preparations to make the stuff palatable. He marvels over his ability to accept his actions as common place. He guesses this is the Vamp part of himself. Soul or no soul, he is still Dead Boy's right hand man. He feels the strong familial connections to Willow, to Buffy and yes, to Angel. If he closes his eyes and looks within himself, he finds no question or conflict. The connection is simply there.
The microwave beeps and Xander pulls out two large mugs taking one over to Angel.
Angel is taken aback by the small kindness. Since he came back into himself hours ago, he hasn't given any thought to this other male. Before, he tolerated Xander for Buffy's sake but after the turning — well, he had not been close to another male like that since William.
At the thought of William, a face flashes through Angel's mind. He's here. The knowledge that his Childe, this Childe is near — puts fear in his heart. It must have been Angelus. It would be just like Angelus to pull on the century old ties. If William is near then so is Dru. Oh God, Poor Dru, the most concrete evidence of Angelus' evil. It only makes sense that Angelus would have wanted his 'pecial girl.
"Hey, you OK?" Xander asks. He voice has lost a good portion of its former sarcasm but it has grown deep and mature with the change. The tone pulls Angel out of himself and he feels compelled to answer.
This young one is strong, is still strong even after facing his soul. If William and Dru are indeed here, he realizes that he will need Alexander to help him protect the women.
Angel responds with respect to this 'Alexander' accepting him as his Childe and his peer. He stands to face him. "We have a problem."
Taking a sip of his drink, Xander responds. "I thought we had several."
"I don't doubt that but this one is worse. There's a lot you don't know about me, about Angelus." Angel starts.
Some of the old Xander surfaces for a second. "Gee, I think I've gotten to know Angelus about as up close and personal as I want to — no offense- but hey, I've never really envisioned myself playing for the other team."
Angel rolls his eyes at the comment and continues, "Alexander, this is serious. This is life or death. AND don't make the 'Yeah, I'm already dead' joke because this is not a joking matter. This is about our family and protecting it."
The gravity of the situation finally seems to reach Xander or maybe, it's how Angel is suddenly coming to him for help but he becomes serious. "OK, shoot."
"Have a seat." Angel commands and commences with a tale that would stand Ann Rice's hair on end.
An hour later, Xander is exhausted. He feels as if he has lived through all of the horror and intensity that was that first family. Opening his eyes, he looks squarely at his Sire, "So, what now?"
Before Angel can answer, Willow coughs discreetly from the doorway. "Umm, guys, you better come quick, she's awake — sort of".
Buffy is sitting up on her knees in the middle of the bed. Her face is white and drawn in a way that makes her almost unrecognizable. Her body is swaying back and forth, as she sings a tune under her breathe, her eyes unseeing.
"Lavender Blue, Dilly Dilly. Lavender Green, Dilly Dilly. When you are king, Dilly Dilly, I will be Queen."
At the sound of the old, familiar melody, Angel's blood runs cold. "Buffy?" He calls out somewhat harshly as he rushes forward to grab at her arms and shake her.
Buffy's milky eyes latch on to his. She tilts her head to the side and gives him an unearthly smile and a British accent. "Why Daddy, you're home!" She announces with a giggle. "Oh how I've missed you, Daddy".
Angel repeatedly calls her name and shakes her harder and harder. She only laughs more wickedly in response as blood red tears stream down Angel's face.
Spike is more than used to Dru muttering about one thing or another so he pays her no mind for a good while. Instead, he tries to gain a little more shut-eye before beginning the evening in earnest. As the sun sets and he can sleep no longer, he tunes into her ramblings. If you listen closely enough, you can catch a valuable tool every now and again.
"Spikey, there's a girl in my head. A golden girl. She's so angry. All gold and red. She wants to kill my Daddy. She wants to kill. Don't hurt me, no --- no --- no! Don't let her hurt me. Be a good sister, be a good sister."
As she continues, she begins to pull at her own hair, Spike tries to contain her as best he can. She seems much stronger than usual. She begins to scream over and over. "Slayer, Slayer" — she screeches.
He rocks her and sings her song to her, trying to calm her. "Lavender Blue, Dilly Dilly. Lavender Green, Dilly Dilly. When you are Queen, Dilly Dilly, I'll be your King."
Finally, after long, anguished sobs both Dru and her golden mystery girl seem to have calmed. His head aching from Dru's display, Spike vows to find "Daddy" before daybreak and let him deal with whatever the hell is going on.
Feeling the connection pulse and grow, Spike easily locates Angelus' lair before the stars are out. Knowing the ol' devil all too well, he parks in back and begins to bang on the garage door.
"Bloody Hell, Ang. Open the bloody door, will you? You know I'm here… Open up before I trash the place." He threatens, almost hoping that he'll be able to act on his threat.
Spike ceases his banging and picks up a fist size stone from the landscaping. Just as he begins to throw the stone, the lights come on and the automated garage door open begins to hum.
"That's more friggin' like it." He announces as he takes Dru by the hand.
Willow and Xander are faced with an odd sight. While both have seen their share of Vamps — these two take the cake. The male bears a striking resemblance to Billy Idol. The girl looks like a Hippie who's had one too many acid trips.
Xander finds it hard to get worked up, as the pair look more likely to be heading to a costume party than to take down a nest of Master Vampires. And according to Angel, that's what they each were — in their own right — already. And despite feeling guilty over it, Xand takes a bit a pride in being a Master in this Domain.
The male pulls the girl by the hand as if she just might float away. In game face, it is hard to tell what exactly he looks like, as he snarls over his fangs. "Where's the bloody pounce? Sending recruits out to greet us! Well, we'll just see about that."
Xander and Willow both shift without thought, ready for a fight. The male is still holding onto the girl so despite a vicious kick, Xander soon has him in a headlock.
During the struggle, the girl has let go of the male's hand and is starting to sing to herself. Willow immediately recognizes not only the tune but also the voice. She stops cold. "Ssuuuch Xand, listen!" She commands.
"Lavender Blue, Dilly Dilly. Lavender Green, Dilly Dilly. When you are king, Dilly Dilly, I will be Queen."
At the sound, Xander stops playing around and drags the smaller male with him into the Lair, the women following.
Once securely inside, Willow and Xander escort their company straight to the bedroom where Buffy.
As soon as, Drusilla is inside the room, she cries out "Sister!" and runs to Buffy, pulling her into her arms as if she is a doll. Buffy reciprocates the grasp and begins to cry for the first time. Drusilla runs her hands over Buffy's hair soothing her like a little girl.
The other four vampires in the room - Xander, Spike and Willow at the door and Angel standing in the far corner of the room — all stand mesmerized by the display in front of them. Xander has dropped his hold on the new male — William —as Angel calls him and draws Willow toward him. Somewhere inside of him is the primal knowledge that there are two other males near his mate.
Neither Angel nor Spike can tear their eyes away from their own mates, lost as they are in their own torment.
Finally, Angel breaks his gaze to find his Childe.
"William"
"Angelus" the Blonde Vamp says with a nod. Then a slight smile plays across his thin lips. "What, no hug? I'm hurt."
Angel raises his voice suddenly, seeming to channel Angelus. "Cut the crap, Spike, what the hell have you done now?" He roars as he vamps. In the face of all five of his Children, Angel's demon can do no other than assert itself and its role as Master. Until they all acknowledge his status, he will stay behind his demon facade.
Xander instinctively puts himself between Spike and Angel.
Spike's no fool, he knows the odds and he's not one to fight a losing battle. Hands up and open, he nods to Angelus, his eyes downcast. "Cool it Pops, you're still the bloody boss!"
Drusilla raises her head to chime in, "Oh yes, Daddy. Will you stay this time? Will you, Daddy? Golden Girl Sister wants to hurt you but I don't let her. Please stay, Daddy! We'll be good, won't we, sister?" Dru asks Buffy. Buffy looks up blankly but says nothing.
The vacant look in Buffy's eyes is killing Angel. He slips back into his human guise as he watches Dru and Buffy.
Pulling away from Buffy a bit, Dru speaks again. "Sister, I want you to meet your big brother, William." Turning to Spike, she gestures for him to crawl up beside them.
"Now sister, if you're a good girl, maybe he'll a good big brother an' give you a taste of hm'self. He tastes like lightening." Dru whispers in a conspiratal tone. The words from the dark witch seem to reach the one corner of her mind where pain has not taken completely over.
Buffy stares at this new man moving toward her as she listens to Dru's words. She doesn't place him from Parent's Night.
Buffy's demon latches on to one word - taste. The witch said taste and she is so hungry but she can't bear to look toward the one whom she craves. This man, who the witch has called, is beautiful. Lean and angled with eyes like the summer sky. A perfect foil of the mate that her entire spirit is rejecting.
She is so hungry and the yawning empty spot inside of her is growing ever larger as pulls away from her mate. The part of her that is slayer cannot abide with the part of her who is vampire. And her mate is the one who has led her to this end. Her mate is the one who has murdered her mother — has for all intents and purposes murdered her. She cannot look at him without falling deeper into despair.
But her demon is new and hungry. It seeks strong blood; it seeks a strong male — an anchor. This hunger and need multiples her confusion and misery a thousand fold. And it is ripping Angel apart.
Spike sees the girl's indecision play clearly across her face, followed quickly by her hunger. Moving slowly as not to encounter Angel's wrath, he locks his eyes on his sire's face, silently asking for permission to give the girl what she so desperately needs.
Hs takes his sire's lack of movement as consent as he brings his own mouth to his wrist and bites. Just as slowly, he holds out the bleeding wrist to the girl in Dru's arms. Normally, this would be a wonderful time to gloat but his worry over Angel's state of mind combined with the wonder of this slayer turned vampire, lull Spike into a contemplative mood.
Dru eases back and claps her hands in delight as Spike feeds Buffy in front of their little audience. Dru rises from the bed and dances furiously around the room humming to herself before stopping in front of Angel. "Daddy has given us a sister - a golden girl!" She continues sing and dance as Spike draws Buffy more securely to him.
After a few moments, Buffy's hand clasps Spike's wrist and holds it to her. Deeply, she bites into the wrist, seeking the succor that it provides. The taste of this man is vaguely familiar but different from her sire's — enough so to keep her own grief at bay.
At the feel of her bite, Spike groans and his head falls back in pleasure. Both of them unaware, they begin to rock together in the rhythm that she has created as she draws on him.
The sight of the two is staggering. In some strange and magical way the two blend and merge. Eyes closed, they are totally lost in each other. Angel can feel the passion that is beginning to flare between his two children.
He can face no more. The sound of Dru's taunting, the sight of Buffy and Spike - it is too much. Without coherent thought, he reaches out to Dru and snaps her neck plunging the room into silence.
He can face no more. The sound of Dru's taunting, the sight of Buffy and Spike - it is too much. Without coherent thought, he reaches out to Dru and snaps her neck plunging the room into silence.
By the time that Spike and Buffy look up to see the confusion, Dru's body is already turning into so much insubstantial dust and mist. Reminiscent of the soul-holding fog, this mist that was Dru floats directly to where Buffy and Spike are on the bed. It settles over them for a split second before it is seemingly absorbed into their skin.
Only briefly dazed, Spike's first impulse is to immediately attack — sire or no sire but he is halted by the screams coming from the girl in his arms. At first, the screams are more animal than human but slowly words do form.
"Murderer, murderer." She shirks. Looking toward Angel. She sounds reminiscently like Dru and for a moment, Spike wonders if Angel will disperse with her just as easily.
The thought of the Slayer's death distresses him more than he can imagine and Spike quickly puts his body in front of hers, just in case Angel charges. Surprisingly, the Slayer holds tight to his back as he faces his sire.
For several long moments, Angel looks at the pair on the bed trying to make sense of the last minutes and what has gone terribly wrong. He fights his urge to pull Spike away from Buffy. More than anything else, it is his inner tie to Buffy that persuades him to back away that she is terrified of him, of herself. For whatever damnable reason she is finding some solace with Spike.
The thought of Spike with Buffy terrifies and saddens him. Spike, who was raised up as a vampire by Angelus himself, is a bloodthirsty killer with two slayers under his belt in the span of one hundred years. And here he hunches, ready to fight for this Slayer while mourning his own mate.
Angel thinks about the irony of the whole situation. He has taken Spike's mate but it seems as if Spike may have taken his. Perhaps it was some sort of odd justice?
Angel realizes that he must leave, he just needs to leave this room. Try to get a hold on himself. He turns quickly and leaves. Xander follows only steps behind.
With a glance toward Buffy and Spike, Willow takes her books and leaves too.
Spike sits with his arms around the girl trying to make sense of it all. An hour ago, Dru was here. His dark princess, ever the dark star in his sky. And now, now, she was gone after one hundred and fifty years, she is simply gone. Not in battle, not by her own mad hand, but by her sire.
It strikes him that he should be more upset, more enraged. Instead, there is a quiet emptiness and there is this Slayer. In his arms. Not bloody likely he would have guessed this. He acknowledges that he should be figuring out a way to bend these strange circumstances to his own benefit and so he begins to make a plan as the Bit continues to cry in his arms.
Angel is making his way outside by the time Xander and Willow catch up with him.
Hearing their calls, he finally turns to them.
"Just let me be!"
Willow cannot help but act on her feminine instincts to reach out to him. "Angel, stop! Whatever is going on, we can fix it. Just come back."
He shakes his dark head, "No I destroyed Dru — a long time before this night — and I'm doing a damn fine job doing the same to Buffy. Not to mention you two. If it wasn't for me, damn it, none of this would have happened."
Stopping a second he looks at them, "If there was any way, I could go back and …".
Again, Xander suddenly finds himself in the strange position of wanting to give comfort to the man that has both killed him and sired him. Xander pushes down the conflicting feelings and approaches Angel. "Angel, I don't believe I'm saying this but hey, this seems like it's better than that. I mean, whatever is up, we need to face it now for Buffy's sake."
Feeling more confident, he approaches Angel, bracing his hands on his arms, shaking him lightly. "She's in there with a killer, Angel. She is in there with a soulless monster and that is what you need to destroy — not yourself."
Spike's shirt is wet from the Slayer's blood red tears. Reaching down, he pulls the white tee shirt — now pink — off and quickly put in arms back around the girl. Now the Bit's cheek is up against his bare chest. No complaints at this. Her crying continues unabated. Hell, she's giving Dru a run for her money on hysteria.
Her firm little bottom is quite a nice treat too. More curvy than Dru for sure and fits just right if he doesn't say so himself. Schooling himself to not be distracted by her physical attributes, he closes his eyes and focuses on delving into that mind of hers to see if anyone's home.
He sighs in frustration, with Dru around, there was little need to master the finer arts of mumbo—jumbo. Still, he knew a trick or three.
"Com' on Pet, look at Spike." Gently grasping her chin, the empty hazel eyes gaze out at him. "OK, here goes nothing" he murmurs to himself.
As he looks into Buffy's eyes, he slowly becomes less and less conscious of the external world as falls into another reality.
In the landscape of her mind, she is also huddled in a small ball, rocking back and forth, tears running down her cheeks. She looks up at him.
"Spike?"
He kneels next to her, "Yes, Pet — Spike".
Laying her head on her knees, she speaks softly, "Dru said that you would take care of me".
Not shocked, knowing ol' Dru, he answers her. "She did now? Now, when did you see ol' Dru?"
"She was here, she said you'd be coming and that we were --- we were supposed to take care of each other."
Somewhat taken aback by Dru's pronouncement, Spike changes subjects less he can distracted and break the bloody link. "Last time I saw you, Pet, you were doin' the slayer deal. What gives?"
"Angel --- the curse --- his soul --- has this clause --- if he had a moment of true happiness then the curse would be broken."
"And let me guess, you and he ---."
"Uh, yes." She says looking down. "He, umm, Angelus turned me. Then, he killed my watcher and then we turned my best friends and then, --- and then --- he --- we --- killed my mother." She ends her tale with a sob.
Looking up into Spike's face, "How could he do that? Kill my mother? And I laughed. I watched television with her body growing cold in the hallway."
Cocking an eyebrow, Spike asks, "Seem awful sorry for a Vamp, you know".
Buffy nods in agreement, "Will --- Willow --- she --- Ahhh --- somehow she restored our souls. I'm a little fuzzy on the particulars. But --- but when I came to and realized what I had done --- what I had become ---." Again, the Slayer Bit breaks out into sobs, that affect him more than he'd wish.
Getting back on target again, he asks, "And Angelus. It's his fault, huh? He should have known about the bloodly curse, he'd had it long enough! Always was a selfish, son of a ----"
Buffy interrupts Spike's words with her own, "Just kill me, please. I know you can. I mean, I know you want to. You've killed two slayers, now hurry kill me and you'll have a third."
The request seems to have increased her level of upset and seems begins to wail. Just as in the outside world, he pulls her to him on this plain and begins to rock her again.
"Suush, Pet. We'll have none of that. Course' I won't kill you. Not' a bloody slayer anymore 'way I see it bein' a vamp and all. Even with a soul. 'Sides Dru told me to take care o' you and you o' me. 'Way I see it, I've got my marchin' orders — you too. You don't turn down ol' Dru. Don't want her hauntin' you for sure'. She'd drive you bleedin' crazy."
The talk to Dru, the emotion of the past few hours, and the Slayer in his arms coalesce to drive Spike's overwhelming urge to claim her. His need even supercedes his usual desire to best Angel. Though, the fact that both aims can be accomplished at once would only sweeten the pot if Spike could think that clearly.
"Now, Pet, let's see what we can do to help you feel better? What would you say if I told you that I could help you get Angelus out of that pretty little head o' yours? Just nip that tie. Won't hurt a bit. What you say, Luv?"
The potential of severing her tie with Angel reaches Buffy. Given her current state of mind, the prospect appeals to her. It will be killing him in a sense. Separating herself from the one whom created this terror. She hopes that the madness might retreat without her sire and mate in the back of her head at all times.
She gives little thought to the man holding her. She knows him, knows of him. The taste of him is like lighting — the Witch was right.
Angelus had destroyed the Witch too and everything that was precious to her, including her sanity and now she felt the Witch bolstering her to be rid of 'Daddy.' 'Daddy will lie, Daddy will leave you, Daddy will leave you broken, the dead Witch's voice rings in her head.' The Witch is pushing her toward this Spike, this William.
He is also a killer her slayer side whispers but another part of her whispers yes, but not your killer, your mother's killer. The vampire side of her is a social animal, it will not let her do away with herself, it will fight to keep a mate — if one is discarded, it will seek out another strong male.
Both the female and the vampire in her gravitate toward this man. The slayer in her appreciates his skill, his prowess; it knows him as a worthy opponent. All sides point to a male whose strength matches her own and whose age and wisdom can securely navigate her through this new life.
Spike measures the acquiescence in her eyes wishing to make his move carefully. In a voice like dark velvet, he murmurs to the girl in his arms. "Now Pet, listen to me and I'll make it all better. Just relax now and look at me. That's it, Good Girl."
He fights now the urge to smirk; this is like taking candy from a baby. Ol' Ang is going to be surprised when he realizes his 'boy' has a few tricks of his own.
Trying to be as soothing as he can be, he continues. "Now, I want you to look inside yourself, to where it's hurting. Do you feel it? The place inside of you that's tied to Angelus".
With wide eyes, the girl nods. "Now think of a big shiny knife. Can you see it, Luv?"
The girl nods again, "Now, make that knife slice right through that connection to Angelus. See it in your mind, Pet. Cut him right out of your heart, make the hurtin' stop."
Buffy does as he has prompted her. See envisions a sharp silver knife in her hand, cutting through the magical cord that runs between her and Angel. She is desperate to make the hurt stop. The knife is raised and it cuts.
The silver knife cuts sharply. She forces it with all of her will. Immediately, she is gasping for unneeded breath, totally lost without this tie to her sire, her mate. Being a fledging, albeit a strong one, she feels herself fading without that anchor, her demon weakening and taking the rest of her with it.
Just as she relaxes into the sensation, blood enters her mouth. Her demon immediately accepts the offering and she draws hard on the pro- offered wrist.
Suddenly things spin outward and she finds herself in corporeal form. A very solid form as holding her and with every draw on this fount, she feels millions of tiny, unseen cords reaching blindly for this being – his strength.
Spike has never sired a true childe before. Minions sure but never this, never anything close to this. Even though she is the one feeding, he feels as if he is absorbing her into his very pores. The feeling leaves him drunk as she continues to take from her, cementing the bond between them.
Almost giddy with the need to finish the bond and secure it even further, Spike whispers a few bonding incantations that he most certainly picked up from Dru. As her feeding slacks off, his own desire rages and he quickly takes her neck and bites deeply before she has any time to react. She sighs at the contact in obvious welcome.
This claiming, the feelings it inspires, calms her, it fills her with satisfaction as indeed the hurt is dulled. The hole inside of her is being filled with golden light. She feels warm and happy and responds by holding tightly to the figure who has given her this peace. With every moment, the warmth inside of her seems to pulse and multiply until it is a living thing – golden and good.
Spike feels this entity - golden and good – throbbing inside of her and unconsciously, it is as if his demon seeks to draw on it. As soon as he deliberately seeks to touch this part of her, he feels himself drawing this part of her into himself just as surely her blood.
The length of time that they are together seems limitless as they fall together into a sleep like neither has felt before. The last sense either experience is the laughter of the dark witch herself.
Angel, Xander and Willow are making their way back inside the mansion with Angel suddenly collapses. It takes several long, tense moments before he comes to and the children experience the unrest that comes when there is a disturbance in their direct line.
Finally, his eyes open and he turns to them. "She's gone, oh God, I can't feel her!"
Willow again tries to sooth him. "Angel, she's still here, we need to go to her, but she's here. Remember?"
Angel shakes his head as he struggles to stand. Begrudgingly, he accepts help from Xander who is practically carrying him as they make their way forward.
He desperately restates his plea; "I can't feel her! It's Spike, he's done something to her."
At those words, all three of them shift and run into the lair.
The picture they find as they literally roar into the room is disquieting and not remotely dangerous. Both fair heads are asleep. So deeply asleep, it seems that even three vampire rushing in the door doesn't wake them. And while their arms are wrapped securely around each other, their clothes are still on and they are lying above the covers.
Xander and Willow look to Angel for guidance. Angel's human face looks stunned, but he manages to withhold the impulse to pull the two away from each other. For the first time in over 24 hours, Buffy is peaceful. He is thankful for this.
Taking charge – again – Willow, draws both men from the room and shuts the door. After forcing some nutrition on them, she has to practically tuck the two in bed to get them to rest. OH Yeah, even as a Vamp, I'm like all Milk and Cookies! On the other hand, she thinks with a smile – and she crawls into bed in between the two dark men. Milk and Cookies could be a yummy combination!
Long after Xander and Angel have both fallen into an exhausted sleep, Willow is still awake, her mind racing over the events of the past hours and the possible connotations for there future. She gingerly crawls out of the bed and out to where she left the texts that she was reading earlier.
Finding a particularly scholarly work entitled "The Habits and Known Rituals of the Vampyre" authored by some ancient watcher in 1907. Given the post-it-notes littering the tome, obviously Giles had found the book to be reputable.
She begins to list a number of possibilities on a yellow legal pad found in a drawer near the computer. Soon words like Mates, Sires and severing ties were recorded on the paper. Starting with Mates, she finds a succinct definition.
**Mates are typically observed to be two vampyres of a similar status. Unions may be either heterosexual or homosexual in nature. Mates are sometimes said to be the union of Sire and Childe, but this is not a necessity. However, in the great majority of observed cases, unions occur with vampyres within the same family branch. This may be due to similarities or preferences not yet know. Mates are typically joined for life. In one observed case in 1681, both mates died when a Slayer in Hertfordshire, England successfully killed one. There are vague reports of a ritual in which mates may be separated without death but there is little evidence of to the requirements of such a rite. ***
Vague! Willow thinks – the whole blooming thing was vague. Going on with her research, she finds little else that is any better. Remembering some old-looking books above the computer, Willow tries what must be Angel's own collection. These books are thinner, some handwritten with beautiful script. Two look to be written in French, Three in Latin, one must be Greek. A title page in one that has no script on the spine gives her hope. It simply says "Rituals of Ancient Clan of Aurelious".
The words are handwritten in a clipped but legible script. Taking the book over to the overstuffed couch, she cuddles under a blanket draped over the back of a nearby chair and settles down to read the book through.
Willow, yawns, a purely human gesture that surprises her as she finishes the sixty-seven pages of the book. Her questions are answered but she's not happy about what she's found. Between intuition and information, she knows what has happened. The question now was how to tell Angel.
Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, she has another surprise, finding Xander spooning Angel in a fairly protective stance. She hates to bother them but — this can't wait. Crawling up the bottom of the bed, she works her way in between the two men, waiting them both up in the process. For the first time since turning, neither seem particularly interested in sex. Well, good, she thinks. Surprised again that her mind would have even gone there. Bad Willow, Bad!
"Uh Guys, I think I found out what might have happened last night. I mean, the part about Buffy and Spike — and Angel collapsing too." She hesitates only to have Angel spin to take hold of her shoulders in an aggressive way.
Xander quickly intercedes before he can even think, placing a large hand in the center of Angel's chest. "Whoa Papa, back off. She's only trying to help."
Xander's firm but good-natured words reach Angel and he backs off, releasing Willow as she sinks back into Xander's protecting arms, facing Angel. Just the feel of her own mate gives her comfort and strength. She thinks about how she would feel without the tie. What Angel must be going through.
"Uh, I stayed up last night reading and stuff and I finally found a book called 'Rituals of Ancient Clan of Aurelious', you know the one, Angel?"
"Yeah, it was one of Darla's books. I read it once a long time ago. I have tried to stay away from her stuff. I mean, touching it — sometimes — it's like she's here — it's just too hard."
Satisfied with the explaination, Willow proceeds, "Well, I think I found out what happened." Gathering her confidence she continues, "Each Vampyre Line has a Witch or a Seer. There is only one at a time. When one dies another is called. Ahh, kind of like a slayer but this is somebody who sees things maybe can do more magic than the regular vamp. Like the lighting rod of magic for the whole line."
"Well, as best I can figure, Dru was most recently this person. Either by choice or not, I think she passed that part of herself into Buffy when she – ahh, when you killed her."
Angel grimaces at her words but his eyes urge her to continue/
"I think when Buffy woke up and was well - vulnerable, Dru, being the seer for the clan, sort of channeled through her. I think they connected, maybe, because of their close connection to you?"
"I think this connection to Dru was influencing Buffy to some extent, and since Dru was Spike's mate, I think that's why she responded to him like she did."
As she pauses, Xander speaks, "But what about Angel – what about him passing out. What does Buffy channeling the criminally insane have to do with Angel passing out."
Willow rolls his eyes, Xander is always the one to ask those questions!
"There is a ritual – in Darla's book – that I think Dru had the capacity to perform. I think she was able to somehow steer Buffy and Spike through it once she died."
"Kind of like taking possession of them?" Xander asks again.
"Yes, in a manner of speaking. Remember the aura?" Looking at Angel, Willow takes his limp hands in her as he absorbs her words. "The ritual, if I'm right, severed the mating bond between you and Buffy. It's my guess that Spike and Buffy performed a bonding ritual on a metaphysical plane so that essentially, Buffy has now taken Dru's place as his mate and the witch of the clan."
"Well can't we just do the ritual again - like a cosmic divorce?" Xander is back in his role as the doubter now that is soul is back. It surprises Willow – how much she is reassured by his good natured questions.
"I don't think so. It takes the witch of the clan to perform the ritual plus it can only work if it was done with the free-will of both so Buffy had to consent without any influence."
Xander gets louder this time almost a mouth piece for Angel. "That just can't be. Buffy wouldn't choose that Blond Billy Idol Wanna Be. NO way, No how."
A little more unsurely he asks, "Right?"
The picture they find as they literally roar into the room is disquieting and not remotely dangerous. Both fair heads are asleep. So deeply asleep, it seems that even three vampire rushing in the door doesn't wake them. And while their arms are wrapped securely around each other, their clothes are still on and they are lying above the covers.
The length of time that they are together seems limitless as they fall together into a sleep like neither has felt before. The last sense either experience is the laughter of the dark witch herself.
The silver knife cuts sharply. She forces it with all of her will. Immediately, she is gasping for unneeded breath, totally lost without this tie to her sire, her mate. Being a fledging, albeit a strong one, she feels herself fading without that anchor, her demon weakening and taking the rest of her with it.
Just as she relaxes into the sensation, blood enters her mouth. Her demon immediately accepts the offering and she draws hard on the pro- offered wrist.
Suddenly things spin outward and she finds herself in corporeal form. A very solid form as holding her and with every draw on this fount, she feels millions of tiny, unseen cords reaching blindly for this being – his strength.
Spike has never sired a true childe before. Minions sure but never this, never anything close to this. Even though she is the one feeding, he feels as if he is absorbing her into his very pores. The feeling leaves him drunk as she continues to take from her, cementing the bond between them.
Almost giddy with the need to finish the bond and secure it even further, Spike whispers a few bonding incantations that he most certainly picked up from Dru. As her feeding slacks off, his own desire rages and he quickly takes her neck and bites deeply before she has any time to react. She sighs at the contact in obvious welcome.
This claiming, the feelings it inspires, calms her, it fills her with satisfaction as indeed the hurt is dulled. The hole inside of her is being filled with golden light. She feels warm and happy and responds by holding tightly to the figure who has given her this peace. With every moment, the warmth inside of her seems to pulse and multiply until it is a living thing – golden and good.
Spike feels this entity - golden and good – throbbing inside of her and unconsciously, it is as if his demon seeks to draw on it. As soon as he deliberately seeks to touch this part of her, he feels himself drawing this part of her into himself just as surely her blood.
Lord William Essex Wallace, Viscount Dalancy was startled to find a thin young girl in the same bed with him, in his arms none the less. Furthermore, upon investigation, he realized that he and the girl both had on rather strange garments. He spent several moments wracking his brain for anything that could point him in the right direction of where he could be.
Finally, he came to the conclusion that he must have been drugged and abducted. Over at the club the other week, he had read a most interesting story of a man who was kidnapped by business rivals and set aboard a schooner for the Orient. While he had no rivals nor any business to speak of – he did have several ambitious cousins who would most likely covet his title and the little remaining wealth behind it.
When he, the younger son, inherited the title when his brother died unexpectedly the winter before last, it had been a shock to him. Knowing money was scare, he had gotten himself set up in a Barrister's office. The work was respectable enough and it gave him time to indulge in his true passion – writing. Many nights he would stay up writing by candlelight and dreaming of the day when he could find the true inspiration for his work.
When Robert died, he was called home and into the unfortunate whirl of parties and the masquerade of polite society. The more time he spent there, the more restless and empty he felt.
And now this — whatever — wherever this is.
The strangely dressed girl turns toward him in sleep, one leg curling up and around his hip. His body responds for a moment but soon his distress over his situation helps him get hold of himself. Unlike many members of society, he remains a virgin at twenty-six. He has a love. A love that he has coveted from afar for years but he has never been so presumpious to act upon it. Somehow, the thought of sullying the innocence of the rare flower of his heart is beyond him. When the dark, sexual restlessness stirs in his breast late in the night, he strives to beat it back as best he can. The feelings seem less civilized than appropriate for a gently bred man such as himself. He is repelled by these desires that run so contrary to the higher aims of his aspirations. Truly, if not for the girl – he would have sought the priesthood long ago.
And now – here he is with this, this trollop. Before he can think of the how and the why, the dark restlessness he fears rises from within him. This darkness seems far more powerful than ever before. It is as if the darkness has taken form. At this very thought, he feels another inside of him. It is the most disquieting feeling he has ever had. While he has never believed in possession, he is certain that there is another entity inside of his body now. Or either he is going mad.
Perhaps this is an asylum of sorts?
Spike feels odd, disembodied. It only takes him a second to realize that he is still in this parallel realm with the Slayer Bit. This metaphyiscal mess has always given him the shivers. He wouldn't be here now if it weren't for damned Dru. Give it to Dru, even in death she's spookin' him.
Closing his eyes, he concentrates, drawing both his spirit and the Slayer's up, up, up – until they once again possess their earthly bodies. Immediately, Spike comes up against something that wasn't there before. Something dense feeling, that he must force his way through. He doesn't like it one bit whatever is it and pushes with all of his force and will.
Suddenly, the two opposing forces mesh together in an all-together uncomfortable feeling. Disoriented, Spike sits up trying to gather his wits about him. The truth of the matter rushes toward him as he quickly recalls his most recent thoughts and feelings.
It was enough to drive a lesser man mad but the demon is strong and seeks to dampened the panic that Lord William is feeling as the two distinct parts of the man surge together for the first time in well over a century. Before he can make sense of it, the girl – the Slayer – he knows her – scents her – she is Dru – and not Dru – she is vampire – and slayer – she is light – and dark – stirs. She is a study in contrasts. She is his mate.
Her eyes open – browner than he recalls – more like Dru's – less hazel. Her face is blank for a moment. It stays blank and open as she begins to speak. She sits up and tries to put words to what she is feeling.
"Spike?"
The man beside her looks unsure. In her few encounters with Spike, he has been anything but unsure. His face looks younger somehow, not as guarded, not as sardonic.
"Uh, yeah? Slayer? Uh, Buffy?" he questions back.
He sounds even more unsure.
She continues, "My soul, I remember. Somehow — my soul came back and then I woke up and I — it was like — like a war — going on inside of me."
"Tell me about it, Pet!" Spike intones in a way that sparks her curiosity. He almosts sounds emphathetic.
"Sounds like you know."
Both now on equal footing given Buffy's new status as a card carrying member of the evil undead, they are in a less adversarial posture but the whole thing – remembering him in her mind – remembering Dru in her mind – it's weird.
Arching an eyebrow, he answers, "As a matter of fact, I do Luv. Whatever mo-jo your witch friend did, she did it to me too."
Buffy turns to look fully at this man, the man – beyond the demon. Her face is incredulous.
While she looks on, he straightens his shoulders a bit and takes her hand, kissing the back of it with a slight bow. Looking her in the eyes, he speaks with an accent she has not heard from him before. It is softer, deeper, a rumble. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lord William Essex Wallace, Viscount Dalancy. I was turned in the year 1859 by Drusilla, with a little assistance from her sire and yours - Angelus."
"Drusilla has been my mate, my love, my dark princess since. Yesterday, Angelus killed Dru. But ol' Dru, she isn't one to be outdone. So, she decided to do some magic. She was always good at that. So she took you and me — as best I can explain — she — she stirred us all up-like. Took you away from Angelus, she did. Gave you to me, for both our sakes, and to get revenge on that evil bugger for driving her mad all that time ago. Killed her family, he did."
If possible, Buffy's face looks even blanker than his own. Neither William nor Spike can tolerate the silence well. "Well Luv? Any of that rot ring a bell?'
"Ahhh, yeah, I'm afraid it does." She sounds warily.
"Hey, could be worse, I'm not likely to drive you mad and kill your family like the wanker. Treated Dru like a queen, I did." As soon as he looks at the silent tears running down her face, he realizes what he what must have happened. Without thought, he draws her into his arms and gently rocks her.
"Pet, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry. I promise I won't ever let anything like that happen again – truly, I'll kill him first."
Responding to the voice and its content, Buffy pulls back to look into Spike's face. It is truly another man holding her. Truth be known, it isn't exactly William and it certainly isn't exactly Spike but someone new in between. She is strangely drawn to the man and the comfort he provides.
Nuzzling back into the crook of his neck, she feels herself shift, her vampire countenence taking her by surprise. Her hunger hits her hard but before she can even think to ask, he seems to know and places a gentle hand at the back of her neck, running his solid fingers up into her hair. She understands the invitation and bites deep.
In this position, William has an incredible view of her still golden neck. All the while, he feels her mouth drawing on him, each pull divine. His own face shifts as he is drawn to reciprocate her embrace in kind.
She stills briefly at the sensation but quickly sinks into the dark seduction that his embrace provides. The circuit that they conjure is powerful and sweet. Perpetuating itself over and over.
Willow, Xander and Angel are still turning the situation over and over. Xander and Willow taking turn heating up blood every few hours and forcing some toward Angel. As their discussion has progressed, Angel has said less and less. For a while Xander and Willow had exchanged secretive worried glances but now Angel has his face buried in his hands so their looks of worry and concern are both direct. Finally, Angel sighes and curls into a fetal position on one of the couches. Once they are assured that he is asleep and that no sound is coming out of the room housing Buffy and Spike, Xander and Willow walk softly into the other bedroom and close the door.
Once the door is shut, Willow lets herself fall backwards unto the bed. Xander quickly follows suit beside of her. For the briefest second, it also feels like they are fine. That nothing has changed but reality crashes down soon enough.
Still despite their new found intimacy, they take the poses that they have for years on Willow's bed – curled toward each other ready to conspire to reach whatever goal they set.
Looking into Xander's eyes, Willow is surprised to still encounter something closer to Hyena Xander than she would like to admit. She reassures herself that whatever impulses he has – he seems well equipped to keep a dampor on them. Not so much as a little hug for hours she thinks – almost sadly. "So, Xander, what now? I don't think Angel's doing so hot, ya'know."
"I second that, I third and forth that. I don't know much about all this touchy-feely vampire stuff. I thought it was all grrrr – ya'know. God, now it's like Dawson's Creek times a thousand. You get dropped and you get really depressed. Your old girlfriend comes back — hey, you just kill her. Your folks piss you off, hey, you do them in too." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Like saying them is making it more true or something.
Keenly feeling Xander's distress, Willow reaches out to him, pulling him into her arms. The connection between the two of them flares, giving comfort – distraction. Suddenly, they are pulled back to reality by the sound of the door to the outside basement sliding shut. It only takes a second to realize that it is Angel and it is well past dawn. Given his frame of mind, they are both out the door behind him within a minute.
They reach the outer garage in time to see Angel leaving the protective shade of the house and walking out into the sunlight. Surprisingly, it is Xander who cries out first and runs towards his sire, only to be tackled by Willow. Her mate takes priority over anything or anyone. She fights to keep Xander down while Angel's burns.
The beast in Xander that she saw early comes quickly to the surface, seeming to take offense that his mate would attempt to overpower him. He vamps and flips her over unto her back, before he can move forward, she vamps herself and fights back hoping to engage him until an attempt to save Angel is fruitless.
Xander is lying alone in the shade of a huge oak tree. Shielded from the afternoon sunlight, he is trying to make sense of his recent past. In the space of less than two weeks, he has managed to be seduced by one of his best friends. To die, only to be turned into a heartless vampire, to kill his parents, to cause general mayhem, to engage in some fairly embarrassing homoerotic activity and to regain his soul. And now, here he is at a general loss at what to do now.
Do you return to school only to explain that you don't have a note because your parents have met their great reward at your own hands? Do you forge the note? Do you drop out? For that matter, are the police looking for you? They should be. Do you call your until- recently semi-secret girlfriend and apologize for taking her prisoner and intending to kill her? Hey and what about whatever was going on with Crazy Screaming Buffy and the evil undead guy (verses the not so evil but pretty guilty undead guy)?
What about Willow? Now there was a question. You would figure that after the resouling thing that things would go back to normal – or as normal as to be expected considering. But no – still lusting after her for sure and given that being a vamp seemed to be like regular teenage hormones times a thousand --- well, he was going to have to have a talk with her and soon. This feeling – what would a good word be? Like he would like a good fight. OK, go on and say it, nobody's listening – a good kill – continued to build within him. Something was going to have to give.
And finally, now Angel had to up and off himself. Great. Despite his distaste for the guy back when things were normal, Angel had been fairly OK to him after --- well, don't go there. Soooo don't want to think about trading what could loosely be called kissage with Buffy's boyfriend – ick. Whatever else, Angel did know the ropes of this vamp thing.
For a second this morning when Angel killed him, a part of him wanted to follow Angel out there and be done with it. But he couldn't. First of all, Willow wouldn't let me and truly, he wasn't ready to die. He felt awful about hurting his parents; Cordy --- but he really wanted to live. That instinct was strong and healthy. It was like the part of him that was an average young man with a whole life ahead of him was conspiring with the demon to keep him trudging forward.
The french doors open and immediately he knows that it's Willow, come to interrupt his brooding.
"Hey – you" She says with a smile, taking a seat beside him. Seeming to read his mind, she begins to supply him with concrete, tangible information.
It took several days for anyone to realize that something had happened at his house. That didn't surprise him, given that his parents weren't what you'd call social animals. When he had been out several days running, the school had called his father's work only to find that Mr. Harris hadn't been in for several days either. One thing lead to another and the police came out to on check on things.
From hacking into the police report and checking the local papers, Willow has a good handle on what the police surmised. After finding his parents' bodies, they had searched for his. However, they did find evidence of a break-in. While the police were unsure whether to rule this 'missing boy' as a suspect or a possible kidnap victim, it didn't seem like the case was getting much attention. The police had made contact with some distant relatives who directed that the property be sold and the bodies cremated.
Almost guiltily, Willow admitted to exchanging email with her parents who were still overseas at the moment. They were saddened to hear about Xander's family but that was about it. Willow had fabricated a story of winning a scholarship to some sort of exchange program in the Far East so they were covered as far as her absentee parents went.
Before he can stop himself, he asks about Joyce. He can't help but wonder if he is a suspect in that murder too, given that Joyce is dead and Buffy is missing.
Willow is quick to explain that Angel had somehow found the time to orchestrate a whole pack of lies to cover for Joyce and Buffy's disappearance. Joyce had resigned from the gallery and had taken a position in Italy; her mother, according to her school records, had taken Buffy out of school. The mortgage and any outstanding bills had been paid up and the house was up for sale with the proceeds set to go into an account in Buffy's name.
Before Xander can help himself, he is thinking what a bastard Angelus was after all – taking care of Buffy but leaving him out to dry so to speak. Then again, it was most likely Angel who had cleaned up after Buffy and Angelus. Still ------ he is pissed that their so-called sire had bailed on them. For all of the power running through his veins, he is still too new at this. He had needed Angel.
"Whatca' thinking?" Willow's little girl voice pulls him out of his thoughts.
"I was thinking that Angel was a real whimp for bailing on us. It is his damn fault that we're all in this mess. And Buffy – what are we going to do about her? She and --- I can't even bring myself to say it --- Spike have been down there forever. You'd think they'd at least be hungry. If they don't surface soon, I'm going in there and get some answers."
After he finishes, he looks to see Willow staring at him with a crooked smile on her lips. "Man, Mr. Bossy Vamp, huh?" Rolling her eyes, she continues, "If it weren't so true, I'd ask you died and left you king?"
He answers as he gets to his feet, "Well, you just did --- ask that is."
She rises too and meets his gaze, "And what of it?" she asks boldly, more boldly than she would have dared before.
The predator in him takes the challenge without further deliberation, quickly using his body to crowd her more delicate one against the tree. Closing in on her, his teeth grazing her neck, he answers teasingly, "I am your king, you'd do well to remember it."
After taking Willow – sans the talk --- Xander is feeling better. His beast, his demon is appeased - at least until nightfall. Willow's eager submission and devotion, have calmed him, as has her blood. His mind goes back to his earlier musings. The primary thought running through his mind is that there is a male vampire in their midst, moreover with one of his own women. Two thoughts war is his mind – he wants nothing more than to kill the rival male but he begrudgingly knows that he needs his knowledge – at least for a while. For how long a while will be up to Spike as the former urge is running through him much more strongly than the latter.
Buffy opens her eyes. She feels more lucid than she has in days – like she has just woken up from falling down the rabbit hole. Raising on her elbows, she takes a quick survey of her surroundings. Her forehead wrinkles as she thinks about the last few weeks. Somehow she is managing to recall all of the horrors of the last few weeks with some distance. Even her grief is somehow muted. Muted but present, like it happened years ago. It was almost as if her Slayer healing had kicked in on an emotional level.
The thought of her Slayer abilities focuses her attention to the fact that while she feels her Slayer sense – strong and intact, she no longer feels the churning restlessness of the demon. Closing her eyes, she searches within herself from some sign of the demon and its bloodlust.
It is simply gone – the bloodlust, the demon, the whole vampire vibe. And while she doesn't feel her pulse, she feels like she could walk out into the sunlight without so much as sunburn. Her Slayer senses tell her that the unlikely combination of her Slayer powers, her soul and the severing of her link to her vampire sire – have driven the demon out of her.
The demon seems to have left her with one gift or curse – she is undead, animated now by the Slayer within her – not the demon. The cosmic change of events leading to this event is too great for her comprehension. She just knows.
Acknowledging her liberation from the demon, she smiles. She feels ready to get up and try herself out physically. In the back of her mind, she is hoping against hope that somehow the change in her will have also manifested itself in her friends.
She falls over something in the floor as she stands. Actually, it is someone – Spike. While she clearly recalls her encounter with the bleached wonder, she was kind-of hoping that he had decided that it was a one-night-stand kind of thing and left before she woke up. But no, here he is lying unceremoniously on the floor – right where she would trip over him. It strikes her that her Spider sense should have gone off before now – what with a naked vamp not a foot from her. Deliberately reaching out with her senses, she comes up empty. Nope, no vampire vibe here either.
She doesn't have time no think through this wrinkle before she is hit with another impression. It's as if her slayer sense recognizes Spike not as a vamp but as some sort of kindred. It's like she's sent out a metaphysical line, and something on the other end has twined around it. The connection that she initiated amplifies and she can't pull back – a large part of her doesn't what too. The energy pulses incessantly. She's never felt anything like it. She's caught – good and caught.
When she comes to awareness again, she finds herself curled around her former enemy. Chancing a look his way, she jumps at encountering two open blue eyes looking back at her.
"Well, luv, what do you have to say for yourself? Feels like you shagged the demon right out o'me." Delivering the line with a suggestive wink, Spike reaches a hand around to squeeze her bottom.
At the touch, she jumps up. "Eeewww, do not touch me!" She backs away, hastily grabbing what looks to be his shirt to cover herself.
Feeling more secure with clothes on, she continues with her diatribe while looking over his head, in a feeble attempt to ignore his still nude body. When it is clear that he does not intend to cover himself, she charges over to the bed and pulls off a sheet and throws it at him.
"Now get dressed, I need to find out what's going on around here." With that the blond goddess in the red shirt charges out the door leaving a bemused male in her wake.
Once the door slams, William gets up out of floor, looping the sheet loosely around his waste. Without much thought, he heads for what is obviously the bathroom for a shower.
Funny he thinks, it doesn't feel quite right to think of himself as Spike. So, William, it is. After so long, mum would be proud, he muses. As the hot water warms him, he realizes that he is hungry. Not bloodlust hungry but hungry – hungry – like for steak and kidney pie. Identifying his want, he hastily cuts off the shower and heads out to locate his pants.
Other than some apples and cheese, there's not a lot of food in this mausoleum. Spying a phone book in the main room, William orders a pizza … Now where's the cash?