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Chapter 1

A/n: If you are reading this then I will assume you know about the Master, Angel, Willow, Xander, Cordy etc. The only thing that is different is Spike and Drusilla never came to Sunnydale therefore Kendra never died and took over slaying in Sunnydale. So I am not going to rehash the story line. A little explanation of William. For all intents and purposes, Spike’s lost soul was reincarnated as William. The old Spike and new William had different experiences that shaped their personalities. William looks like Spike except no bleached hair.

New York 2002

“Buffy, more to the right! Step, good. Justine, higher! Catherine, faster! Everyone move faster.” Mademoiselle Chariot glided across the room, barking out orders to the young women that were currently kicking and stepping around the room. The modern dance class held at the local dance studio wasn’t that bad, except for the teacher. Emily Chariot or as she liked to be called Mademoiselle, spent her youth in the dance chorus for a Broadway company. Years or ruthless rejection molded the once beautiful woman, into a hard mass of cynical muscles and knowledge of dancing. She was known for her cruel words and strive for perfection. Many Broadway dancers still come to her studio for additional practice. “Uh, I cannot stand it anymore! You obviously did not practice and I refuse to work with you anymore tonight! Go home and practice! Maybe next week you won’t be so dreadful.” With that, Mademoiselle Chariot left the studio floor. The women left in the room, looked around at each other and shrugged. They knew this was how Mademoiselle Chariot dismissed all her classes, but it still was degrading on some level. The tired and sore women made it over to their things, and started to pack up their belongings.

“So, Buffy are you going to that club on 78th?” Justine asked, as she tied her boots up. Her long brown hair hung over her face, as she fiddled with the laces. Justine’s 33 year-old tall frame unfolded itself as she stood up. Grabbing her purple faux fur jacket, she shrugged into it. Looking at her, an average person wouldn’t believe Justine was a day over 25 with her chic fashion and makeup.

Standing up, finished getting her street clothes back on, Buffy smiled. “I don’t know, I have an early class tomorrow. Clara asked me earlier today about it. I think the gang from school is going.” Buffy really wanted to go to the club, but an eight a.m. class stood in her way.

“Just think, Buffy, a couple more months and then no more early classes.” Catherine entered the conversation. Catherine stood off to the side, waiting for her friends to finish getting ready. The African-American twenty year old, studied ballet her whole life until she broke her right ankle two years ago. The dance class brought together many different people together, bonding against their enemy, Mademoiselle Chariot. Unfortunately, Catherine lived on the opposite side of the studio from Buffy and Justine and had to walk home alone.

“Oh my god, I know! I can’t wait! A couple more classes and then I’m done!” Buffy jumped up and did a pirouette.

“What are you going to do after you are done?” Catherine laughed as her friend dancing haphazardly in heavy winter boots and a coat.

“My mom wants me to come back to California, but I don’t know. That internship I did last year, said to contact them during my last semester.”

“Why would you want to stay in snowy New York, when you can go to sunny California?” Buffy sent them a knowing smile and thought to herself, ‘if they only knew.’

The three women stepped out on the icy sidewalk and said their goodbyes.

~*~*~

The club’s music filtered out on the street as Buffy and her five friends neared, while they stood in line. Low thumps of the drums and bass line hit their bodies, inducing overproduction of adrenaline. In the front of the group stood Clara and Sara, fraternal twins originally from the Bronx. Their dark brown hair and olive colored skin were the only things they had physically in common. Sara’s svelte average height body seemed to tower over the short Clara. Next in line were the two men in the group, John and Eric. The two men met during their second year in pre-med and now were preparing for medical school. John and Buffy lived together in an overpriced small one-bedroom apartment near campus. John slept on the couch, when he was home and let Buffy have the privacy of the bedroom. When Buffy first arrived in New York, she befriended John in the dorm. The light blond hair on John’s head reminded her of California, his smart brain and quick wise cracks, reminded her of her old friends in Sunnydale, Willow and Xander. The two friends moved in together after their second year. Eric, in turn, was John’s boyfriend. They have been going out for two years yet lived separately, but stayed over at each other’s places often. Next in line was Buffy and Justine. The dance friends walked behind the group of four, discussing the latest atrocities Mademoiselle Chariot was inflicting on them.

“Are they ever going to let people in?” Clara whined. Her legs were turning purple from the cold.

Eric snickered and turned to Buffy, “If she would wear some clothes, she wouldn’t be so cold.” Buffy smiled at Eric’s dimpled cheeks and wrapped her pink jacket even tighter around her. The wind picked up and made everyone shiver.

“Hey I heard that, Eric. I’m wearing clothes… a skirt is considered clothes.” The group laughed as Clara jumped up and down trying to stay warm. The bouncer outside the club started to check ID’s and let more people filter into the building. Finally, the bouncer came up to the group of six, letting each one in until he got to Buffy.

“Buffy? Buffy Summers?” The large bouncer exclaimed.

Looking up, she noted the round face and shaved head. “Charles? Oh my god, how long has it been?” Jumping into a hug quickly, Buffy stepped closer to the building, trying to stay warm.

“Months, chica. What have you been doing to keep you busy?” The bouncer stopped the line and Buffy heard the low protests of the crowd.

“You know school. What have you been up to since you graduated?”

Charles looked around and laughed, “Job market is horrible. This place isn’t the best, but it helps pay the bills.”

“Huh. Well, it’s good you found something.” She looked towards her friends, trying to figure out a good way to get going without hurting his feelings.

“Still dance?” At her nod, he continued, “Better get a move on then, lots of dancing to be done.” She flashed a million dollar smile, and followed her friends into the warmer climate of the building. They checked their coats, hats, and anything else they had to bring to stay warm and headed into the club. Clara had an impossibly short skirt purple leather skirt and tight matching halter-top on. Sara, in turn wore all black. Leather pants and skin tight shirt that complemented her dark hair and skin. Justine, wore black stretch dance pants and red blouse. Buffy, wore faded blue jeans and a white tank top over a colored bra. The club had drums in the center of the dance floor that were covered in day glow paint with painters around the dance floor, spraying various people and objects. The people dancing closest to the drums got splattered with it and glowed under the blue-black lights. The two men were dressed similar to each other one was wearing a ratty pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a sports coat. Buffy thought they looked like they belonged in Miami Vice, but she didn’t want to hurt their feelings. The guys always seemed to wear the jeans, t-shirt, sports jacket combo, so she tried not to judge their fashion style.

Moving into the club, the men moved towards the bar to get some liquid refreshment as the girls looked around the club. In front of them stood a large dance floor with bodies writhing around; the music caused their hearts to pump blood through their bodies in time with its own beat. The stage where the DJ stood, was to the side of the dance floor and rose up about five feet and above the DJ was a second floor balcony. The air was filled with too much smoke for the women to see what exactly was up there, but Buffy figured it was similar to what was on the first floor. To their right were a sea of tables, chairs, and little sitting areas of soft couches and matching comfy chairs. Grinning, Buffy tugged on the women to go over and commandeer a large group of chairs and sofas. The group of women sat down on the various seats, waiting for their men-folk to arrive with their beverages.

~*~*~
Up on the second floor sat three sinister creatures in a dark corner. The female of the group stood with her long crimson dress flowing down to the floor. Her arms rose above her head as her hips started to sway. She flipped her long black locks over her shoulder and pouted. “Do you hear that?” No answer from her two companions. “The stars are whispering to me.” Her coal black eyes surveyed the room and she brought her hands in to her chest. “Do you love me?” Her eyes turned round and started to water as her body trembled.

One of her companions stood up and held out his hand for her. His bleach blond, slicked back hair stood out from the dark. “Of course, pet.” She took his offered hand and he moved closer to her. His black clad form slid up against her hip and he nuzzled her neck. “I love you, Dru, you know I do.” She smiled and closed her eyes. Her hips started to sway again. The male wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed along with her to the imaginary music in her head. The third body at the table directed his blue gaze away from the couple. For the past two years, he had gotten used to the attentions the other male paid attention to the female. He thought it was annoying that she required constant attention and reassurance even when she was having her fits. Thanking what ever power that be, he was glad he wasn’t in charge of pampering her whims. Shaking his head, he thought about why he was in this little group and smiled. Immortality. Only a few short years ago, he watched his mother fight against numerous illnesses, finally succumbing to cancer. At Anne’s funeral, William vowed to never go through that again.

Hearing the female whimper and a sharp slap, William turned back to the couple. Standing before him, his crazy sire, Drusilla, looked with wild eyes towards her other companion, Spike. Spike’s steel blue eyes looked shocked and mad, as he stared at the dark woman. “What the bloody hell did you do that for?” His hand rubbed his cheek as he stepped away. Spike knew the look in Drusilla’s eyes and didn’t want to be in arms reach.

“Naughty daddy! Loving someone else.” Her eyes teared up again, as she looked around.

“I’m not your fucking daddy, it’s me Spike.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly, in hopes of shaking some sense into her muddled mind. His English accent made his words sound harsher than he meant them to be, but the message was the same.

“Daddy loves the dirty girl. Not me,” her whimper started the other guests in the dark reaches of the club. A couple people turned their attention to the couple. Sneering at them and snapping her jaws, Drusilla whimpers again. “Naughty daddy, leaving me for her.”

“Dru, what are you talking about. Your daddy left years ago, pet. Remember?” Spike’s patience was wearing thin. Not only did he have to put up with her sometimes calling his name during her orgasms, but now he was slapped because of him.

“Naughty girl. Thinks she is safe now that daddy can’t find her, but she isn’t. Daddy will come and get her again and make her his.” Her swaying started again as her whimpers died down. Her body crumbled back into her chair, as her eyes glazed over. Spike still stood next to her, looking angry and confused. Backing away, Spike sat down in his chair in the shadows, glaring at his crazy sire. She sat there, quietly looking off to the distance, moving her red lips. Shaking his head, Spike looked over at his male companion.

“What do you think she was talking about, mate?” Spike looked over at his brethren, sickened that he looked so much like himself when he was human. Looking into the thoughtful blue eyes that haven’t seen enough death or destruction, Spike snorted at his counterpart. Dark blond hair hung over William’s face, making it hard to see his features in the dark.

“Don’t know. Something about a girl and her dad.” William shrugged. For the unlife of him, he couldn’t figure out his sire’s ramblings.

“No, mate. She’s talking about her Sire. Don’t know anything about a girl.” Spike sat back thoughtfully. Drusilla’s eyes were still glazed over and she was singing softly to herself.

William got up and went over to the railing of the balcony to look down over the mass of people. He breathed in the sweet scent of their hot, sweaty bodies. The intoxicating smell seemed heavier tonight, richer. Glancing around, hunting for his meal for the night, William spied a group of girls, close to his age. Maybe he would have more than one meal tonight. Glancing at his two companions that have seemed to have made up and were cuddling now, he turned back to the group of women as he started his hunt.




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