He didn’t need this.  He didn’t want her in Sunnydale.  He wasn’t happy that she’d found out about Angel.  He stifled a growl of dissatisfaction.

"Yes, William.  I'm positive.  I would know my boy anywhere," Darla mused in return, not deigning to face the younger male.  She didn't have time for his theatrics.

"You damn well better be right, because I'm not making any fucking deals with that little red headed bitch unless we're certain."

Spike barely managed to duck the goblet Darla hurled at his head. Remaining on the floor, he kept his head bowed slightly as she glared at his prostrate form.  She was pissed, and she was his Master.  He may have been the alpha male of their group for the last century, but he had never truly been in charge.  He wasn't Angelus.  And she wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place if he stepped too far out of line.

He hated being put in his place, especially by that bitch.  And she was very good at disciplining wayward childer.

"It is him, William.  I will not repeat myself again," she said in a very clipped tone of voice.  "I know why you didn’t want me to know he was here.  I know what you were planning to do.  Just remember, plans change."

He fumed silently on the floor, waiting until she tired of berating him like an idiot child and left.  It didn’t take long before he heard her footed heels clicking off down the hallway.

"My Spike," his lover called from the large chair he had placed her in earlier.

He hated that Drusilla had witnessed Darla bringing him to heel. It made him hate the bitch even more.

"Yes, Ducks?" he answered evenly, rising to his feet to face her with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Why is grandmummy angry with you?" she asked helplessly.  "I thought she would be happy now.  She seemed so happy in the park when we saw Daddy.  But she didn’t seem surprised.  Why wasn’t she surprised, my Spike?  We didn’t know Daddy was here."

"Nothing makes her happy, Pet," he said gently, thankful for her ignorance.  He carefully lifted her out of the chair so he could take her to bed.  "You need to rest now.  I have some business to take care of."

"Yes, Spike," she answered sleepily.

Drusilla didn’t understand.  She didn’t realize that Angel’s death would mean her resurrection.  She also didn’t realize that Darla had her own agenda where her favorite childe was concerned.  Damn her.  How had she found out what he had planned?

"What are you doing here?" Oz asked, taking a chair at the Slayer's otherwise empty table in the Espresso Pump.

She pointed to her coffee cup, smiling weakly.  She didn't want to talk.  She didn't want to talk so much that she'd been sitting there sipping coffee for hours.  She couldn't go home or Cordelia would corner her, she couldn't go to the library or Giles would corner her, and she couldn't be around Angel because, well, he was the problem.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, knowing that Buffy probably would never tell him what was wrong.  He, of course, did know that things were not of the good.  The Slayer wasn't usually a fashion plate, but at the moment she was verging on indigent chic.

She nodded weakly at his question, but was a picture of abject misery.

Deciding that if the Slayer wasn't willing to talk that it would be fruitless to try and pry it out of her, he changed the subject.  "Sounds like Larry should be good as new in no time," he said lightly.

"Yeah," Buffy said brightly, thrilled by the change of focus.  "Next full moon, although I guess that kind of puts you out of the festivities, huh?"

Oz smiled warmly at her attempt at humor.  At least she was trying.

"Hope I’m not intruding," Cordelia said softly as Angel turned to face her.  She knew without a doubt that she was intruding, but she didn’t really care.  Angel was so private he forced people to intrude, or at least that’s how she justified her behavior.

"Cordelia, do you have any idea how hard it is to sneak up on a vampire?" he asked wryly.

"Oh yeah," she said lightly, "I guess I forgot about the whole predator sensing prey thing."  As soon as the implications of what she’d said hit her, she amended her statement with, "Not that I think you’re going to bite me or anything ..."

Angel laughed to himself.  This girl couldn’t buy tact with all the money in the world.  Then again, maybe that was a good thing.  At least he always knew where he stood with her.  Angel indicated the empty space next to him on the couch as an offering.  As she sat down, he resumed his research while waiting for her to explain her reasons for visiting.

For several long minutes she watched Angel pore through ancient tomes in his living room.   There was no way around it, he looked like shit. Apparently he hadn't been sleeping at all and odds were he wasn't feeding either.  She frowned to herself.  She was only half paying attention to what he was doing, but when she took a closer look at the books he was studying, her entire body went rigid.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she demanded.

The vampire looked at her like she'd lost her mind.  "I'm doing research," he said calmly.

"Research?" she hissed, getting even more agitated.  "You're researching Darla?  Why?  Giles said she was dead."

Brow furrowing, he stared at her.  "Cordelia, how do you know who Darla is and why would you speak to Giles about her?"

Cordy checked herself.  Different world!  Dammit, she'd forgotten again.

"I, uh, uh, had a vision," she said excitedly.  "A vision of Darla screwing with your head!  I asked Giles about her a few weeks ago and he said was dust – which is exactly where she belongs."

"You had a vision of Darla and me?"

"Yes.  Bad vision. Terrible.  Wrong!  She was playing all sorts of mind games with you, trying to get you to turn all psycho evil again," she explained frantically.

"Again?" he asked in confusion.

Mentally admonishing herself, Cordy tried to come up with a game plan.  Of course he wouldn’t turn evil again because it had never happened in the first place.  Angelus hadn’t killed Miss Calendar and stalked all of the Scoobies for months.  He hadn’t tried to suck the world into hell and been sent there himself.  All because he’d only just met Buffy and there was no loophole in his curse.

The downside of all this being that he didn’t have any idea just how far he could fall.

This couldn't happen, not again.  Not after she'd wished them all into bizarro world.  Darla was not going to turn her life upside down again.  And if the whore so much as came within a mile of Angel again she would spare him the anguish of staking the bitch by doing it herself.

Sensing her mounting terror and rage on his behalf, Angel attempted to intercede.  "Cordelia," he said, gently laying his hand on her arm, "it's okay. Darla's not going to hurt me."

Cordy knew Angel couldn't possibly foresee all of the problems that his Sire was capable of causing.  He was especially vulnerable right now since he and Buffy weren't speaking.  It was happening all over again. She couldn't help it, months of pent up frustration burst through and
she started sobbing openly.

"You don't know for sure," she said, her voice hitching.  "She's evil. She wants to hurt you and she knows you so well.  She'll do everything she can to make you doubt who you are."

At a loss for what to do, Angel patted her hand awkwardly.  "Cordelia," he said very quietly, "everything will be all right.  I promise.  Darla won't hurt me."

He was completely overwhelmed by her concern for his well being. He understood that she cared for him, but her absolute rage at Darla was unexpected.

"Don't underestimate her Angel.  She's going to try and make you doubt that you're good."  Taking a deep breath, she gently touched one hand to his cheek.  "You are good, Angel.  You have a pure soul.  Don't ever let her make you doubt that.  We need you.  The world needs you."

Willow idly leafed through the file Jonathan had given her.  Spike.  William the Bloody.  Childe of Angelus.  Member of the Order of Aurelius ...  The order she now ruled.  Spike was family, but he was also dangerous.  His lineage was as impeccable as hers.  He could challenge her for control of the Order.

The files in front of her, taken from an eclectic array of sources from Watcher’s journals to contemporary newspapers told a different story.  If his past actions were any indication, Spike wanted nothing to do with the political side of vampiric life. He liked to live dangerous and freely.  He wouldn’t want the responsibility that came with leading.

Or at least, that’s what she hoped.  With leading came power, and power was very sweet indeed.

Flipping the file shut, she took a long drink of blood from the crystal flute.  She would have to play this one very carefully.  She looked at the large clock on the wall.   He was due any minute.

"So you and Buffy aren’t getting groiny anymore, huh?" Cordelia asked Angel as he walked her home.

If the vampire had needed breath, he probably would have choked at her graceless question.  As usual, it had come out of left field.

"You could say that," he answered evasively.

"You aren’t trying to kill each other or anything are you?"

Angel looked at her with a mortified expression.  "No, Cordelia, we aren’t trying to kill each other.  Why would you ask that?"

Smiling wryly, the former cheerleader explained, "No reason.  It just seems that since you two spend most of your time punching your way out of bad situations that some of that might carry over into your personal lives."

Angel’s brow furrowed.  There was some twisted logic to Cordy’s statement, he guessed.  "No," he reassured her, "we’re not at each other’s throats ... metaphorically.  We’re just having some problems."

"Spill," she said firmly.  It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

Sighing deeply, Angel decided he might as well tell her.  She was really his only friend.  The others were friendly to him, but he and the former cheerleader had some deeper bond that he didn't quite understand.  Plus, the fact that she would pry it out of him eventually.  It was just easier if he acquiesced.

"She's upset about some things from my past," he said calmly.

"Things from your past?  Like all the people you ate?" she prompted.

Angel cringed.  "No," he answered solemnly, "not exactly.  She’s upset about Darla and one of my childer, Drusilla."

"Oh great," she lamented, forgetting herself, "it's not bad enough that we have your psycho 'ho of a Sire, we get Spike's wacko girlfriend too."

He stopped walking and looked at her.  "Cordelia, how do you know about Spike and Drusilla?"

"Uh ..."

Willow watched passively as Spike paced the room.  He was trying to impress her with his male bravado.  He was also wasting her time.  Males really didn't interest Willow.  None since Xander had managed to hold her attention.  They were a means to an end, tools to be used and abused.

"Bored now," she said in her soft lilting voice.  The deadly tinge to the tone was unmistakable.

"You're bored?" he hissed, spinning to face her.  "Why you obnoxious little cunt.  I should rip your fucking heart out for that."

He looked even less impressed as the flame haired vampiress rolled her eyes at him and studied her perfect fingernails.  "What exactly is there to discuss?" she said, not bothering to meet his gaze.

"You want me to take out a Slayer!  I'd say there's a lot to discuss," he punctuated his last word with a stinging backhand to her face.  The blow knocked her off of the arm of the chair she had been perched on and she landed in a graceless heap.  When she met his gaze this time, she
was fuming.

"I trust I have your attention now," he said in a quiet deadly tone.

Cordelia secretly thanked whatever gods were listening that Angel had bought her "visions" excuse again.  Of course, what else could he do? There was no rational explanation for her having as much information as she did.

Feeling Angel tense beside her, she scanned the landscape to try and see what had him so on edge.  Buffy.  Of course, who else would it be?

She was standing with her back to them, obviously just back from patrol.  She was unlocking the door to the townhouse she shared with Cordelia, pretending not to notice that they were there.  Cordelia knew better.

"Wait up," she called as the Slayer opened the door and started inside.

Buffy stopped in the doorway and turned to watch them.  Cordelia and Angel.  She knew in her heart that they were just friends, but it still hurt to see him guarding over another woman.  The fact that the Slayer didn't need a vampire to guard her really wasn't the point.

Reaching the Slayer, Cordelia pushed past her and went into the house. Turning, she placed her arm against the door to prevent the other two from following.

"Well, have a good evening," she said politely as she snatched the house keys out of Buffy's hand and then shut and locked the door soundly in her face.

Buffy looked at the door, and then reluctantly at Angel.

"Subtle.  I think she wants us to talk," he said quietly.

Buffy didn't answer, turning around and heading back down the sidewalk.

"Where are you going?" Angel asked, exasperated.

"Giles," was her mumbled reply.

Wonderful, he thought to himself, Buffy gets locked out of her house, so instead of going home with her boyfriend who happens to be right there, she heads clear across town to crash on her Watcher's couch.  This was too much.

"Buffy," he said, running after her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving any farther away.

Twisting, she broke out of his grip and turned to face him.  "What?" she snapped.

He made this strangled noise that really wasn't a word and before she knew what was happening, she was hoisted over his shoulder and being carried down the street.

"Put me down!" she screeched, pounding on his back.

"Are you going to behave?" he asked in a condescending tone of voice.

"Behave?  Why you  ..."

He cringed at the string of curses she let loose on him, but didn't back down.  "Then the answer is no," he said lightly as he continued to carry her down the street like a sack of potatoes.

Buffy was exhausted.  She hadn't been sleeping since the night Angel gave her the journal and all of her waking hours she'd been very much on edge.  All of the stress had finally taken it's toll.  She was no match for Angel's secure hold on her and after a minute or two, she quit trying to fight him.

Once she calmed, Angel took pity on her and he let her down, holding her hand as they walked together to the mansion.  When they reached his home, Buffy looked around nervously.  She really wasn't in the mood for the lengthy conversation she knew they needed to have.  She was about to drop.  Apparently sensing this, Angel motioned her into the bedroom.

"What?" she asked warily.

He shook his head.  "I'm not going to try anything, Buffy.  We both need to sleep, now come on."

Willow winced as Spike hauled her to her feet by his grip on her hair and backed her into the wall.  Her nails dug deeply into the flesh of his wrists but he didn't acknowledge her futile attempts to break his hold.

Willow was young, and used to being in charge.  As her Master's most favored childe, she had enjoyed freedoms that were almost never granted to vampires of her tender years.  Under Nest's watchful eye she had long dominated the vampiric underworld in Sunnydale and had reveled in every second of her reign.  But she was about to find out just what her beloved Master had been protecting her from.

It didn't take her long to realize that she was absolutely no match for Spike.  The only vamp of his age that Willow had ever physically challenged was Puppy, and he had been starving and wounded at the time. For some reason it had never occurred to her that he could very easily
take this town from her by force.

Time for a change of plans.

The End