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Authors Chapter Notes:
Italics = internal monologue or telepathic speech between Buffy and Spike.

More to come folks, thanks for reviewing!! :)


--


Althea awoke to the familiar feeling of Angelus forcibly thrusting into her.

This is why you’re mad at them…because this monster is the closest you’ll get to a normal boyfriend! At least you won’t have to watch him wither and die….

“Gods! I didn’t ask for this,” Althea shouted, referring to her immortality.

However, ignorant of her internal monologue, Angelus’ fury was sparked.

“You dare to mock me,” he thundered.

She was less than frightened.

“No, not you…oh! Nevermind. Just finish up.”

Enraged at her speech, Angelus continued to barrel into her, ripping her fleshy regions into pulsing, bloody strips. Just when she thought he was finished and she could finally have a speck of relief, he surprised her. For the first time in her life, Althea was petrified. Shifting into his demonic form, Angelus bit into Althea’s neck, drinking in large gulps until she couldn’t move.

“Mine!”

Though her eyes darted around the room for an escape, Althea found nothing but the increasing coldness of death…and rebirth. His claim not reciprocated, Angelus’ demon was fuming, but malevolently humorous. Even if she didn’t reciprocate, he knew that as her Sire, she would be drawn to him in an unspeakably devoted way; so he continued to drink himself full of her blood.

“You know I only wanted you to piss her off,” he said, sliding out of her, as she drifted into the death she would soon awaken from.

He smiled as he slammed the door, hearing the hushed sobs that accompanied a vampire’s “birth.” Before retiring to his own posh quarters, Angelus left a half-empty jar of pig’s blood in front of Althea’s room.

She’ll be hungry when she wakes up…and I can’t risk her eating the child before I do.

--

“Miss Edith says she likes you. Says you remind her of my Spike.”

“Who’s Spike?”

Drusilla’s smile was empty and full of lunacy.

“You don’t know Daddy’s name, moppet?”

Colette shook her head, her blonde strands bouncing against her creamy skin.

“No…it’s just Papa.”

“You know I’m your grandmummy.”

“Then why aren’t you old? All of the grammas on TV are grey and wrinkly. Mama says it’s because they’re old.”

“Yes that’s true. Drink your tea moppet…but save some for Miss Edith! She needs her tea.”

Colette took a sip from a pink plastic teacup while staring at the porcelain doll propped up on a chair next to her.

“Mama said I’ll never be grey, because we’re special! Does that mean you’re special too grandmummy?”

Drusilla’s eyes widened and she nodded eagerly.

“Special special. Yes.”

“That’s why Althea is so cross…she doesn’t want to be special.”

“And why would she want that? Tell Miss Edith moppet.”

Colette scooted closer to the doll Drusilla had sat in a small chair at the child-sized table they sat around, sipping their tea. Drusilla poured more tea into the pink cups as Colette whispered to Miss Edith.

As crazed as Drusilla was, for an inexplicable reason, the connection she felt to Colette was curiously caring, even motherly. Her animal-like ears heard Colette’s whispers to Miss Edith.

“Umm…Miss Edith? Can you hear me? Okay, the dark lady said to tell you why Althea doesn’t want to be special. Mummy said she’s just lonely, but I heard Althea talking to that man with the big forehead, and she said, um, she said everyone is going to die but us…and she doesn’t want to let everyone go through what she did when she lost Phillip! That’s why that man gives her kisses, even though she thinks he’s yucky…maybe it’ll help like in Snow White!!”

Only Drusilla’s muddled mind could make sense of Colette’s confused and childish view of her sister’s situation.

“We can help her find a new family she can add to, can’t we Miss Edith?”

In Drusilla’s eyes, the doll nodded, and she smiled.

“Now, Miss Edith thinks you should go back to sleep like a good girl. Dreams, dreams, dreams. No more nasty pixies floating around you. I’ll send the faeries to protect my little one.”

Colette smiled at Drusilla and enveloped the vampire in a giant hug before her small, padding feet carried her off to her makeshift bed. Her eyes fluttered momentarily, and she drifted into an undisturbed slumber. Drusilla perched Miss Edith at the foot of the cot before wandering out of the room to find Angelus.

“Don’t be naughty Miss Edith; keep the pixies away.”


--

Spike and Buffy were awake before their children even began to stir.

"What’ll we do when we find them, pet?”

“I don’t know, Spike…and that’s what frightens me.”

“Buffy, love, don’t worry…everything will be fine. I promised, didn’t I? And I do always come through on my promises, don’t I love?”


Buffy nodded and stroked Spike’s cheek.

"Always. I just have this horrible fear that we’re already too late.”

Gazing into each other’s eyes, the pair lost themselves. Fingers probed, tongues caressed and bodies melded, not out of desire or lust, but out of their now intrinsic need for each other. Had this been any other coupling under these circumstances, one would assume the parents to be uncaring; even monstrous. But, Buffy and Spike’s need for each other grew not only out of their love and mating, but out of their need to be entwined…to be one. If they were truly one going into battle, as Anyanka had often put it, they were a force not only to be reckoned with, but to be feared by all.

The red glow that permeated their hearts filled the room with its warmth and energy, its power and presence. Buffy and Spike did not unlock their gaze until their mutual orgasm pulsated through their bodies and souls, empowering their connection. Though the sex was not always necessary to boost their power, it was by far Buffy’s favorite way to do so. She suspected that it was Spike’s favorite way as well, though when asked, he never owned up to it, only chuckled knowingly and sucked his teeth. Spent, the couple lay in each other’s grip for a moment, regaining control over their own bodies.

“We’ll get her back Spike. I’m sure of it now.”

“I hate to say I told you so, love…but….”

“So hush.”

“ ‘Fraid I can’t love.”

“I should be used to this.”

“I told you so, pet.”

“I know you did…we’ll get Colette back, I know it.”

“But you’re worried about Althea?"

“Yes.”

“I am too, pet. I can’t…”

“I can’t feel her either, Spike.”

“Gods, what has Angelus done to her?”




--




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