Chapter 6 by icemink
Betaed by the fabulous Megan.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I just play with Joss' toys.
Dalton was nervous as he approached the house on Revello drive, but he didn't see what other choice he had. If someone had told the vampires that had served the Master, the Anointed One, and Spike that Dalton would be the last man standing, they all would have laughed. None of them had ever thought much of Dalton.
Even Dalton knew he wasn't much of a vampire. Thirty years prior, the Master had sent some of his followers to kidnap the leading Medieval scholar at UC Sunnydale. The Master had been feeling nostalgic, and wanted someone to talk to about his youth. He'd been so entertained by the frightened professor that he'd turned him.
For about five years, Dalton had lived a sort of exulted lifestyle. He was the Master's constant companion. He didn't even have to hunt. Since the Master could not leave his prison beneath the Hellmouth, his followers had to bring him victims to feed on. Dalton was allowed to share in this no-risk form of feeding.
Unlife had seemed good back then. He had been sired by an ancient and powerful vampire - one who had lived through the history that had always intrigued Dalton. An eternity of study and discovery had lay ahead of him.
Then the Master got bored. Dalton fell out of favor, and suddenly nothing was right anymore. Dalton ended up at the bottom of the pack. He wasn't a hunter; wasn't a fighter. Sure, he had the strength and speed of all vampires, but he wasn't a match for the other undead who followed the Master.
He became everyone's whipping dog. The female vampires who had been more than happy to sleep with him when he'd been the Master's favorite, now beat him relentlessly. It was like High School all over again, except that this would go on forever. At least when he'd been alive, he had had position and respect among his colleagues. All that was gone now.
Then came Spike. Dalton could still remember the arrival of the most junior member of the Aurelian line. The night that Spike threw the Anointed One into a cage and hauled him into the sun was possibly the happiest of Dalton's unlife.
When the Master had been destroyed, Dalton had expected the Anointed One to meet a fate much like Dalton's. The strongest members of the clan should have fought it out to see who their new leader would be. Instead, they all fell into line behind the Anointed One. A boy who also had never hunted.
But Spike had come and set things right. Dalton may not have especially liked the vampiric pecking order based on viciousness, but it still felt natural and right to him. Spike had restored that order.
More than that, soon after taking power, Spike had found Dalton among his books. The new leader found work for him. Dalton was useful to Spike's quest to restore Drusilla, and so had regained some small measure of his former status. As long as he was useful to Spike, none of the others were allowed to abuse him anymore. Spike was the only one he had to fear.
At first Dalton had thought to draw out the process. Delay the finding of Drusilla's cure and the end of his usefulness. Then one day he'd found Spike pilfering a copy of Sense and Sensibility from Dalton's library. Spike had taken the book, and threatened to kill Dalton if he told anyone. Dalton had promised, but from that day on, Dalton had loved Spike. Spike wasn't just another thug, but a cultured man like Dalton, forced to wear a mask in order to survive.
After that day, Dalton had secretly smuggled Spike other books, hoping that some day Spike would take him into his confidence. Hoped that maybe they could sit and talk about their favorite authors. But it never happened. Spike never showed the slightest interest in Dalton - except for whether or not he was closer to helping Drusilla.
That's when Dalton came up with his plan. It took only a minor alteration to the ritual to ensure that Angel and Drusilla were bonded together for eternity. Drusilla would then leave Spike, and Dalton would be there to comfort him.
He hadn't expected for Angel to lose his soul, however, and that had caused problems. Not only had Angelus displaced Spike, he'd gone on a killing rampage, destroying all that was left of the Master's followers. Only Dalton had escaped. The others had been too stupid to see that this wasn't a new leader killing off a minion or two to show his power, but an out of control vampire who would destroy everything in sight.
Dalton had escaped carrying with him only one thing: Spike's journal. Dalton had seen Spike write in it once or twice, when the master vampire thought no one was watching. When things had gone south at the church, Dalton had freed the small leather bound book from its hiding place and fled to the basement of Sunnydale High, the last place any vampire would look for him. He'd hoped to gain access to the Watcher's library, try and find a way to salvage what had happened. That proved trickier than he'd imagined. He couldn't move around the school during the day because of all the students, and the Watcher kept late hours. Dalton didn't want to risk running into the Slayer, so he was forced to wait until late at night to do his research. He couldn't even take any of the books with him. He was sure that the Watcher would notice anything out of place.
The rest of his time was spent reading Spike's journal. He'd always wanted to read the small volume, but had never dared before. Now Spike's life was literally an open book to Dalton. The journal began during William's adolescence and Dalton began to feel closer and closer to the vampire he'd come to respect and love. William's adolescence was much like Dalton's high school and vampiric experiences combined.
William had suffered levels of abuse within the Victorian boarding school he'd attended that paralleled what Dalton had experienced since his fall from the Master's grace. William had been used and abused by the stronger boys in the school - from the day he entered, to the day he left.
His negative experiences had lead to William's romanticizing of women. William came to believe in them as the absolute paragons of virtue; angel's often sullied by their contact with the crude men they lived amongst. Dalton forgave Spike this misconception of women. Spike could hardly be blamed for being a product of his times. Dalton still hoped to show Spike how much purer things could be between two men.
The journal went on to describe William's years at Oxford. William had never finished his education due to his mother taking ill. He'd returned to London to care for her. Even though Dalton had never gotten along with his own mother, he respected William for sacrificing so much to take care of his.
Then came Drusilla, and William became Spike. Dalton couldn't help but wonder how the man whose background Dalton thought was so similar to his own, could turn into a vampire so different from Dalton. Where Dalton was a failure, Spike had triumphed. Spike had become strong and fierce.
It was a mystery Dalton had no answers to. After all, Dalton was a childe of the Master himself. He should have been stronger and tougher than most other vampires, but he wasn't.
He was smarter, though. Although he'd found several spells that might have helped, none of them seemed to be just right. Then good fortune had shone down on him. Sneaking through the school halls last night, he'd overheard the computer teacher who was dating the Watcher talking to an old gypsy.
Even so, he was nervous as he stood outside of the house on Revello Drive. Spike might blame him for what had gone wrong and not give him a chance to explain.
Finally Dalton worked up his courage and knocked on the door. After a moment the door opened to reveal the Slayer holding a stake. Spike stood right behind her.
"Well, well, Dalton. So tell me, mate, did Angelus send you?"
"N-n-no."
Dalton stuttered, not out of fear, but anger. Both Spike and the Slayer smelled of each other and of lust. Spike's great love - Drusilla - had left him and what had Spike done? Had he pined away, broken from heartbreak, waiting for someone to show him all the possibilities the world still held for him? No, he'd gone and jumped in bed with the first slut that crossed his path.
Dalton reigned in his anger for the moment and continued. "Angelus. He killed them. Killed them all. He got mad. I don't know at what, and. . ."
"Wow. With enemies like that. . ." Buffy left the sentence to dangle. "Guess Angelus isn't the sharpest fang in the bunch, is he? Makes my job easier."
Spike turned to her, ignoring Dalton. "Don't get cocky, luv. Angelus is dangerous enough on his own. Can't say I'm entirely upset about him thinning the ranks. Does make things easier for us, but this still isn't a cake walk."
"Well, guess we might as well finish the job," the Slayer said shrugging.
She stepped across the threshold of the house, her stake raised.
"W-w-wait!" Dalton pleaded back away from her. "I can help. It's why I came here."
"He seems nice enough. And not really dangerous. Do you really have to kill him, Buffy? Maybe we should listen to why he came here?" an older woman said. Dalton assumed she was the Slayer's mother.
"Ms. Summers," the Watcher said. All four of them were now gathered around the doorway to the house discussing Dalton as if he wasn't there. "I assure you, whatever his appearance, no vampire should be underestimated." The last part seemed to be directed at the Slayer.
"Please," Spike broke in. "Dalton's about as dangerous as a used tea-bag."
That was final straw. Dalton knew he wasn't a great fighter - that he was a sloppy hunter. But by now he thought Spike would have come to appreciate the other more important qualities he possessed. As the others continued to argue about whether to kill him or hear him out, Dalton made up his mind. He'd show Spike just how dangerous a clever mind could be. Him and his Slayer whore.
"I think I know how to restore Angelus's soul," Dalton blurted out.
The argument stopped as four sets of eyes turned with surprise to look at the bookish vampire. Dalton smiled. Yes, he knew exactly the spell for his revenge. And if he could get access to the Watcher's library, what could possibly go wrong?
To be continued. . .
by Spikesdeb
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