The intruder, it turned out wasn’t an intruder, it was Angel, who still had his head buried under a pillow, but who was poking her in the side with the cordless phone.

"Giles," he mumbled, only it wasn’t near that audible considering he had a pillow over his head.

She stared at the phone blankly for several seconds and then took it.  "Hello?"

"Ah, yes, Buffy," Giles said, "I’ve been looking for you.  Cordelia thought I might find you at Angel’s.  I hadn’t ... realized that you two stayed together."

"What’s up?" she asked, yawning.  She looked at her watch, it was barely noon.

"I was hoping you could stop by the library so I could have a word with you."

"Is everybody alright?" Buffy asked, concerned.

"Everyone is fine, we just need to discuss a few things.  Please come by as soon as possible."

"Sure Jeeves," Buffy replied and then clicked off the phone.

Buffy opened and closed her eyes several times, trying to wake up.  As she tried to get out of bed, she found she couldn’t move an inch.  Angel’s arm was wrapped securely around her waist.

"I have to go," she explained to the lump next to her.  "Giles has a bug up his butt about something.  I have to check in."

He growled possessively, tightening his grip.

Buffy was never good at waking up, and therefore not inclined to look kindly on Angel’s actions.  When he didn’t loosen his grip, she pinched him, hard.

With a yelp, he let go of her and pulled the pillow off of his head to glare at her.  With a smirk she leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"Havta go," she said and then jumped from the bed before he could retaliate.

Screeching in pain, she flailed impotently at her assailant until he pinned her hands over her head, both of her wrists held securely in one of his own.  She heard the rending of fabric and he was inside of her, snarling continuously as his hips pistoned.

She hated this, hated a male working out his aggressions, using her.  But she was a vampire after all.  As he continued to pound into her, Willow reciprocated.  Her hips came off the bed, meeting him stroke for stroke as he used her body to assuage his feelings of inadequacy, inefficacy.

"Spike," she hissed, turning her head to the side.

He growled in pleasure.  Already in vamp face, he simply leaned forward to taste her sweet blood.  He knew she hated this, hated him, but he didn’t care.  He was her elder, it was his right.  And hate it or not, she came when he fed from her, just like the obedient little bitch she tried so hard not to be.  With a howl of masculine pleasure, he emptied his dead seed into her equally dead womb.

Willow lay still for several long minutes, waiting for him to disentangle himself, but he didn’t seem inclined to do so.  Thankfully, she felt him softening inside of her body.  At least she wouldn’t have to have another go round – at least not right now.  She chose to ignore the fleeting sense of disappointment the realization wrought.

"To what do I owe the honor of this ... visit," she asked, not looking at him.

He smiled as she unsuccessfully disguised the displeasure in her voice.  She was on her way to being Darla, but she still had a long way to go.  Of course, Darla was a whore before she was turned so she had the lead on Willow in that sense.  He was going to enjoy training her properly before her disobedient nature had the opportunity to spoil her permanently.

"I want to know what you’re up to, pet," he said before leaning down to lick away the lingering blood, slowly drying on her neck.

Willow shivered at the contact, hating her body for responding to him.   Looking at the clock by the nightstand, she surmised he had made his way to her lair through the old sewer tunnels.  He must have been pretty worried about something to risk wandering around in the daylight.

"You could have waited until dusk," she said.

With a growl, he pulled out of her body and rose to pace around the bedroom.  Willow was missing one very prudent bit of information.  Now was as good a time as any to fill her in.

"There’s a few things you aren’t aware of, pet," he said, his voice thick with frustration.

"Like what?" she asked, sounding slightly bored.

"Darla is in Sunnydale," he said, glaring at her.

Willow stiffened on the bed, shock plainly etched on her flawless features.  That wasn’t possible.  Darla was dead.  She’d been dead for years.

"You’re lying," she hissed.

"I wish I was," he said truthfully.  "I don’t know how, but she found out about our deal.  She followed me to Sunnydale."

"I made the deal for you, Spike.  You kill the Slayer, I’ll hand over Puppy to you so you can restore Drusilla.  I did *not* make any deals for Darla," Willow explained, sitting up against the headboard, glaring at the blonde.

"Well, pet, we all have our disappointments in life, don’t we," he said nonchalantly.

"Are you really that stupid?" she hissed.

"Watch yourself," he retorted in icy tones.

"Maybe you should watch yourself, Spike.  Darla has been looking for her long lost mate for almost a century.  Do you honestly think she’s going to let you sacrifice him for Drusilla?"

Spike snarled at the redhead, baring his teeth.  That very thought had a been forefront in his mind since he arrived in Sunnydale.  He was desperate for a way around Darla.

"You hate her, don’t you?" Willow asked, her tones softer.

"What does it matter to you, you conniving little bitch?" he hissed.

"It matters to me because Darla could very well fuck up my plans.  I do not intend to turn control of Sunnydale over to *anyone*.  You come, you kill, you get the hell out of town.  There is nothing here for Darla."

"What do you suggest?" he asked, knowing full well someone of her manipulative nature wouldn’t have broached the subject without already having something in mind.

"We have a Slayer ... " Willow said wistfully.  "Why don’t we use her?"

"Right," Spike said with a bark of laughter.  "I don’t think the Slayer has any plans to further our agenda, pet."

"Maybe not, but we may not have to do anything.  I say we just stay out of the way and let the chips fall where they may."

Still smirking, Spike said, "Darla’s not an idiot.  She’s not going to go looking for the Slayer and I doubt she’ll have much trouble avoiding her."

"Really," Willow purred, "I think you’re wrong."

"Do you, pet?" he asked with a smug grin.  "You have a long way to go before you can play with your big sister."

This time it was Willow’s turn to laugh.  "I don’t have to play with her, Spike," she said with a smile.  "The Slayer is Puppy’s new bitch.  I doubt even someone of Darla’s cool can let that sleeping dog lie."

Spike’s grin disappeared in a flash.  "Angelus is shagging a Slayer?" he gasped.

Willow grinned wickedly.

Giles cleared his throat nervously, stuttering as he tried to think of something to say.  Buffy blushed furiously, her eyes planted firmly on the table top, unable to meet his gaze.

"I just ... " Giles began, "it is my duty as Watcher to make sure you’re ... safe ... " he trailed off, blushing almost as intensely as the Slayer.  "In every situation."

"Thanks," she squeaked.

"I don’t know how far things have progressed," he said, rushing the words before he lost his nerve, "but it never hurt to err on the side of caution."

He quickly placed the box on the table in front of the Slayer.  Buffy’s eyes lighted on the package of condoms.

"Oh gods," she muttered under her breath, certain she was going to expire from embarrassment.

"I know this is a bit awkward," Giles said, "but considering that you don’t have a mother or any sisters and I can’t imagine Evelyn Crossgate ever broaching the subject ... "

"Thank you," she said quickly, rising to her feet.  "It’s been real ... informational.  Thanks."

She grabbed the box of condoms and bolted for the door.  It was horrible enough that Giles had thought about her sex life at all, but even more embarrassing that he apparently knew she was still a virgin.

Angel knew Buffy was aware of his approach, but she didn’t acknowledge him as she sat on top of a tombstone beside a fresh grave, apparently waiting for a vamp to rise.  Angel had just come from the library and was anxious to speak with Buffy.  When she didn’t speak, he walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, burying his face in her neck.

"Wonderful," she said dryly, "nothing like a nice little sex talk with an old English Watcher to perk a girl up."

"Giles was talking about sex with you?" Angel asked possessively, irritated at the very idea.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the box out of her jacket pocket, handing them to him, unable to look him in the eye.  "I don’t know why he couldn’t just give you these himself," she muttered, embarrassed.  "It’s not like I’m gonna be the one using them."

Angel looked at the box quizzically.  Suddenly, it dawned on him what they were.

"Oh," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Buffy parroted, "oh."

Angel couldn’t help it, he laughed.

Buffy laughed too.

Leaning forward, she kissed him gently.  He responded in kind, but let her take the lead.  With a small giggle, she snuggled under his coat, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she pressed her body against his.

"This sure beats sitting here doing nothing," she whispered against his neck.

Angel shivered as her breath slid across his skin. Gods help him, he loved this lost little girl with his entire heart.

"Uh, Buffy," he whispered tentatively.  "Aren’t you supposed to be working?"

"You know," she purred.  "Vamps don’t lead long lives by telling Slayers ‘no’."

Angel stifled a laugh.  He loved it when she was like this, warm, relaxed, open.  So often, she was closed off, but every now and then he could forget that they were a Slayer and a vampire and just feel like ... two normal people.

"William," Darla hissed when he entered the lair.  "You’ve been with that little bitch again."

Shooting her a look that would have caused a lesser being to tremble in fear, Spike replied, "How the hell else do you think I’m going to find out what’s going on around here?  They don’t print up the Slayer’s schedule in the bleedin’ social column."

Narrowing her gaze at him, she replied, "That *is* all that you’re doing isn’t it William?  You wouldn’t be planning anything behind my back."

"Cross you," he said with a snort.  "I’m not that stupid, Darla, no matter how much of a bitch you are.  Besides, I learned some *very* interesting things today."

"Really, William," Darla said dismissively.  "I doubt your definition of interesting would intrigue me in the least."

Feeling true joy for he first time in as long as he could remember, Spike responded.  "’S that true now?  Hmmm," he said rubbing his jaw.  "For some reason I thought you might be interested to know that your mate is banging the new Slayer."

Darla stared at him blankly for several moments, trying to absorb what he’d just said.  "If you’re lying," she hissed, her voice trembling.

"I’m not lying you evil bitch," he bit back.  "If you don’t believe me, go have a look see for yourself."

Composing herself, Darla said, "Go, William, but don’t go far.  I may have need of you later."

Spike didn’t miss the fact that her hand rested lightly on a leather switch.  He didn’t care.  It had been worth the beating he was going to get just to see the look on the bitch’s face.

"Yes, Sire," he responded as smugly as he could.

"I take it patrol was successful," Giles said to his Slayer, trying to banish all thoughts of their earlier conversation from his mind.

"Huh?" Buffy squeaked.  "Oh, yeah, staked one fresh outta the grave."

Giles looked at her warily.  Why on earth was she blushing?  He looked at Angel, but the vampire was stoic as usual.  With a frown, Giles went into his office to pour himself another cup of tea.

Buffy let out a sigh and swung her legs back and forth as she sat on top of the table.  She wasn’t about to tell Giles that she and Angel had been so busy making out they’d almost let the vamp stake them.  In the end, she had prevailed, but it wasn’t one of her finer moments.  Angel had her top half off when sleepy head vamp decided to rise and Buffy was pretty sure the demon had gotten a pretty good look at her bare breasts before she dispatched him.

Of course, Buffy thought to herself, another vamp got a *very* good look at them, and mouthful to boot.  She glance at Angel and saw her was watching her closely.  If the expression on his face was any indication, he was thinking exactly the same thing.  With a groan, Buffy pressed her legs together to try and alleviate the rising need.

As Giles entered the room again, Buffy forced herself to calm down.  There was nothing like a stuffy Brit in tweed to kill a sex drive.

"So," she said evenly "what’s the what?"

"The ‘what’," Giles said in an exasperated tone, "is that we need to find Willow’s whereabouts."

"And?" Buffy prompted, "you’re not giving me anything new here, Jeeves."

"I think it’s fair to say that she’s been far too quiet for far too long.  She’s up to something," Giles responded.

"Do you have any ideas?" Angel asked.

"I don’t think that Drusilla and Darla being in town is just a coincidence," Giles replied.  "I’m betting that Willow has called in some outside help."

"I didn’t get the impression that Darla and Drusilla were the hired muscle type," Buffy dryly, almost choking on the names as she said them.

"I don’t think they are either," Giles said, his brow furrowing.  "From what I can understand, Darla and Drusilla have kept very low profiles.  I’d wager it’s whomever they’re roaming with these days that was called in."

"Spike," Angel said tersely.

"Huh?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"Spike, otherwise known as William the Bloody.  He’s Drusilla’s mate.  They were with Darla and myself right before I was cursed.  He’s probably the one Willow called.  Darla was never one to get her hands dirty and Dru is too loopy to be of any use."

"Oh great," Buffy said caustically.  "One big family reunion."

"You two aren’t fighting again, are you?" Cordelia asked, watching her roommate.

"No," Buffy replied nervously.  "Why do you say that?"

"You, here, no Angel," Cordy pointed out.

"He’s at his place.  He said he’d be up most of the night doing research, so I decided to crash here.  Is that okay with you?" Buffy snapped.

"It’s fine, I just want to make sure you two aren’t trying to make each other miserable."

"We’re fine, Cordy," Buffy said, walking into her room and closing the door.

As Spike crawled into bed, Drusilla growled and inched away from him.

"Ducks," he called quietly, slinking towards her slowly.

"Out," she hissed.  "Nasty boy.  You’ve been with grandmummy’s little sister again, doing naughty things."

"Drusilla ... Ducks," he pled, inching forward until he could grab her around the waist.  "I love you, but I have to do this."

She let out a pitiful whine.  "You want the nasty redhead more than me."

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Spike pulled the distraught vampiress against his body, purring to soothe her.  "I don’t love her, Ducks.  I need her."

Drusilla looked up at him with huge eyes, pooling with tears.  "Need?"

Spike cursed himself for his careless choice of words.  "I need her *help*, Ducks.  She’s going to make things a lot better for both of us."

"How?" she asked, sniffling.

"You can’t say anything to Darla.  Promise me you won’t."

"I promise, my Spike," she said with a grin.  Dru had always loved secrets.

"Willow is going to help make you all better, pet.  And she’s going to help us get rid of Darla."

"Rid of grandmummy?" Drusilla asked with a confused expression.  "But she’s our Sire, Spike."

"I know, Ducks, but sometimes even Sires are bad," he explained slowly.  "Sometimes they need to be punished."

After a few moments of contemplation, Drusilla nodded happily.  With a sigh of relief, Spike kissed her hungrily, making her squeal in excitement.

"Soon, Ducks, soon you’ll be all better," he whispered in the dark.

With a quiet moan, Angel pushed his hips farther up into the path of the questing hand.  The body wrapped around him writhed against him in a delicious rhythm.  As blunt teeth began to nibble on his neck, he hissed aloud.

"Buffy," he whimpered.

The blow snapped his head to the side with incredible force as searing pain raced through the left half of his face.  He sat up quickly, pushing away the body that was straddling him.  Blinking through the blood that was running into one of his eyes, he quelled the urge to curse.

"You bastard," Darla hissed, backing away from him in disgust.

Angel blinked to clear his vision and then scowled at Darla, a low growl emanating from his chest.  He’d known this moment was inevitable.  "What do you want, Darla?" he bit out, mindless of his nudity as he rose from the bed that still held Buffy’s scent.

"I wanted to find out if it was true, if my once magnificent mate had stooped to rutting with a common Slayer."

Angel growled, taking several steps forward.  Darla held her ground.

"You’re pathetic," she spat, "consorting with humans.  This room reeks of her."

"Leave town now, Darla, or you will die here," he said as deathly calm as he could.

Darla laughed.  "Die?  Really?  Somehow I doubt you’re man enough to kill me yourself, Angelus.  Are you going to send your little bitch after me?"

The rumbling in his chest intensified..

"I hope you do," Darla said with a grin.  "I’m going to love ripping her to pieces."

Angel lunged for Darla, but she was gone.  He could feel the sun almost rising and decided not to give chase.  Sitting down heavily on the bed, he tenderly touched his face.  Darla had clawed him deep.  With a grunt, he walked into the bathroom, rinsing out the gashes with water.  By the time he toweled off, the cuts were no longer bleeding, but they were deep and would take a while to heal.

He knew they were in trouble.  Darla was dangerous enough as it was, but caught up in a wave of jealousy, she would be a very treacherous foe.  She would go after Buffy with everything she had and while Buffy was undoubtedly the better fighter of the two, he didn’t know if the Slayer’s fragile emotional state could stand up to Darla’s taunts.  With a curse, he picked up the phone and called Giles.

The End

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