Rating: Hmm...I'll go with PG-13, if your little eyes can handle a little biting and blood I'm sure it's decent for the telly. I wonder if that made sense?
Disclaimer: Howdy folks! Yes, this is certainly becoming a full-fledged series idn't it? I like it, I'm pretty proud of these fictions myself. I believe Puppycat agrees with me, as well. We're insaaaanneee…and by the way, Joss owns them. Toodles.
Distribution: Just ask. : )
Spoilers: Thought you got rid of me, huh? Hah! Oh yeah. Um, this is after Darkened. Yay. Ssh, this was written long ago under the influence of hyperactivity.
Note: This is still in the Book of Days series, people. It goes Eternity then Darkened and now this. They all follow up each other 'less I say so! Mwa! Uhh, I'm okay.

Prologue

Another well-spent night at the mansion; Buffy's way of showing Angel he couldn't get rid of her in any shape, way or form. He was just as lost in this as she was, but at least she was doing something about it. Well, maybe not at this point because she was sleeping but sleep didn't last forever…metaphorically speaking of course.

Buffy stirred awake, finding Angel sitting on the edge of the bed brooding. She grinned, slipping up behind him and drew her arms around his bare stomach.

"Hey," Buffy said sweetly.

"Morning," Angel said back quietly.

She sat her chin on his shoulder, sighing. "Angel…don't be so distant from me. I'm trying, really…"

"I'm sorry, this is just--"

Buffy reached her hand up to put an index finger at his lips. "Ssh, it's okay. I understand." She paused briefly, raising her head to look at his shoulder. "I'm hungry."

"What?"

"Sit tight…" Buffy swept her head down, pearly-white fangs retracting from her mouth and into his shoulder. Angel tensed, hissing lowly but Buffy held him still. She drew very little blood (enough to quench her thirst) before stopping to heal it over with her tongue. Then she shifted around to sit lop-sided over his lap, her tongue trailing over his shirtless chest that left a bloodied trail in its wake.

Angel growled at her to stop, even enforcing this by tilting her head up to look at him. She smiled slyly and pressed her mouth to his, letting him taste his own blood on her lips and tongue. His arms snaked around her, pulling her closer next to him so the kiss could be deepened like their kisses of yore. Buffy straddled him around the waist and draped her arms around his neck, returning his osculation's with just as much passion.

Buffy certainly had missed this, and could tell Angel had too considering how he wouldn't relent in his bombardment of kisses. Not that she minded. Now all she had to do was wind her way back into his heart and maybe, just maybe she could get him to--

Angel tugged back from her, panting heavily though he didn't really need to. "We can't--I can't do this, Buffy…"

"You don't trust me, I know." She shamefully glanced off to the side. "I miss you…And it's driving me crazy. I know you want me back the way I was, but even if you guys were to curse me -- which you damned well better not -- I would never be the same."

"The curse, I forgot…Buffy you can't go on like this, the new Slayer will come for you and--"

"You think I'm scared of the new Slayer?" Buffy let out an unbelieving laugh and got up off his lap. "That's ridiculous. Did you see what I did to her?"

"And what she did to you," he gestured to her knee which had barely just healed itself.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Buffy snapped and stormed out of the bedroom.

Marie was there, dropping in and out of the surrounding shadows inside the living room. She had a crossbow in her hands and a quiver strapped to her back filled with a supply of bolts. She was here on Wesley's orders to kill Buffy, and there she was. The vampire was sulking, that was unusual…

"Ah well," Marie said quietly to herself and loaded the mechanism.

Buffy's gaze drifted to where Marie stood half hidden in the shadows. "There you are," she said coolly. "I was just thinking about how I was going to kill you."

Marie mentally kicked herself.

Part One

Buffy started to approach Marie, simpering. "Brave little Slayer, I'm impressed."

Marie stepped into full view, shaking nervously as she readied the crossbow. "I do not converse with your kind."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Then you won't last long."

"Neither will you," Marie snapped and let a bolt loose at Buffy. She knew she'd catch it, so she quickly reloaded and let loose another one. Buffy caught it with the other hand, so Marie shot another one and got her in the stomach.

Buffy dropped the bolts, coughing wildly and started to tug it out when Marie shot another that ripped through her shoulder. Again, she shot -- continually missing Buffy's heart with her next two tries. Though her body was nicely decorated with crossbow bolts everywhere.

Buffy let out a piercing cry and fell to the ground, overwrought with the pain. Angel rushed out to see what was wrong and saw Buffy groaning loudly from the numerous amount of…crossbow bolts? He looked up and saw Marie taking a bolt out from the quiver and tossed the bow aside. Now he was mad with this Slayer.

"Angel," Marie said and approached him. "What are you doing?"

He clenched a fist accompanied with a narrowing of the eyes at Marie. "What are you doing?"

"I was sent to kill her." She pointed to Buffy. "Let me finish 'zee job."

Angel sent his fist into her face. "Get out of here.

Marie went tumbling to the ground, clutching her cheek in shock. "She must die!" She sputtered out as she recovered from the blow in a crouched position.

"I don't care, leave before I change my mind on letting you live."

Marie backed up to her feet and ran as fast as she could out of the mansion. Angel turned quickly and crouched down by Buffy. She had passed out by now. He examined her over, deciding what to do.

One by one, he plucked the bolts from Buffy's body and tossed them as far away from her as he could. You never know what her twisted mind would decide to do with them once she was conscious. After he finished his task, he gently picked her up and took her into the bedroom to lay her on the bed.

Patiently, he awaited her to wake.

--

Drusilla let out a blood-curdling scream and threw a vase against the wall. Spike watched her with a lifted eyebrow, debating on if he should intervene. She pressed her back up against the wall, her complexion turning a bright red due to the blood running to her face from energy exertion.

"Dru, pet…what's wrong?" Spike cautiously asked.

Slowly Dru's gaze wavered to Spike and she slid down the wall, whimpering. "She burns inside…shoots through her, buzzzz…"

"She get a wasp sting? Those are quite nasty."

She hissed at him lowly and stretched her arms over her head to claw at the wall. "Inside, the Slayer gets her…"

"Something wrong with Buffy?"

"Yes…" Drusilla toned down her voice into a hoarse whisper. "The Slayer brings her grief…"

"Slayer? There's a bloody Slayer in town? Good god, that Council of hers wastes no time in sending in a new untrained girl do they?" Spike shook his head distastefully and plopped down on the bed. "What's this 'ave to do with Buffy?"

"I--" She broke off and crawled nimbly across the floor. "It's dirty."

"What's dirty, pet?"

"Little ants crawling to their mounds of death…" She breathed in deeply and stood up. "I've soiled my dress."

Spike stumbled over her topics. "Uh, Dru, you lost me around 'it's dirty'. What's going on?"

"My daddy's taking care of everything, Spike, don't worry."

"I always worry when you get like this, pet. Tell me, what happened? What did you see?"

Drusilla approached Spike with her arms outstretched. "The Slayer."

"Doing what?" Spike asked while taking her into his welcoming arms.

Drusilla sat on his lap and started sobbing. "She's trying to break our family apart…"

"Well, we can't 'ave that can we? Come now, we can kill her."

Abruptly Drusilla stopped her crying and yelled: "No!"

Spike winced. "But she's--"

"For Mum."

"Everything's for 'Mum' now," Spike pouted. "When do I get something?"

Drusilla looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Near the end."

Part Two

Angel lit a small fire in the fireplace and took a seat on the coffee table, just to watch it crackle to life. Watching the flames dance before him was somewhat soothing to his ever-stressful nerves. He could brood like this so easily…

"You know, that doesn't do any good to someone who's naturally cold." Buffy's emotionless voice said from behind.

"It's peaceful," Angel said quietly back.

She ambled over to the coffee table, pulling the small red blank around her bare shoulders while taking a seat next to Angel. "I don't like that girl."

"Can't say I'm much for her either, Buffy," Angel replied, then turned to her slowly. "How are you feeling?"

She lowered her head and frowned. She didn't want him to see the gash on her face by a fly-by arrow. "Neither good nor bad."

"Hey," he lifted her chin up and gave her an extremely sympathetic look that gave her the chills.

"What?" She averted her eyes. "I look sickly."

"You're hurt, the sickly look comes with the package."

"Angel, she shot me through like Swiss cheese. I have holes in my arms the size of Nicaragua, okay? They'll be gone soon; but it hurts. A lot."

"You'll heal, Buffy. Just relax, maybe you should lay down again."

"Why do you care? All I do is torment you."

"I care."

"What, because I'm feeble right now? Is that it? You can take this opportunity to pretend I'm Buffy again because I'm so fragile? That's not how it works, Angel."

"That's not it…"

"Then what is it? I…" She bit back a tear. "Hold me, just don't let me talk."

Angel gave her an awkward stare before slipping his arms around her. She pressed herself closer to him and started whimpering. Angel dropped his gaze, wondering what he should do.

--

"My poor mum is sad," Drusilla said dejectedly.

"What about?" Spike said while flipping through the newspaper.

"It's wilting, Spike…" Drusilla solemnly approached Spike. "I worry. She mustn't be out like this, she'll get 'urt…"

"By who, the Slayer?" Spike chuckled and turned the page. "She whooped the last one, pet."

"This one's pure, she cannot harm her."

"Why the bloody hell not? Look if she won't, I will. End of story."

"She must handle this herself," Drusilla insisted. "Don't worry, luv, my mum always knows what to do…"

"I hope so, I don't want our boss here going soft. Not with that kind of power."

"Mum would never turn on me," Drusilla pouted.

"Of course not, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, come here then -- I'll make it up to you." He tossed the paper aside, giving Dru a coy grin. "What do you say?"

Drusilla giggled and dropped into his lap, giddy as a schoolgirl. "You know just how to cheer a girl up."

"You're my li'l princess, right? I 'ave to keep you cheerful."

Drusilla purred at him, smiling sweetly in a psychotic-bent way. "Of course, you always know what to say…always…" She leaned in for a kiss and probably much, much more knowing them. Or knowing me?

--

Buffy tugged away from Angel and let the blanket around her shoulders fall. "I--I have to go…" She stood up and hobbled towards the couch where she paused to lean against it and reserve some energy.

Angel turned halfway to look back at her. "Why?"

"Drusilla needs me, is that okay with you?" She snapped and then she calmed down, putting up a seductive glint in her eyes. "I'll be back, if that's what you're worried about."

Angel nodded slightly and stood up, slowly approaching Buffy. "You want to make a quick scheme with her then come back here…"

"Basically," she said flatly. "Oh, if you wanna tag along I wouldn't mind the escort…"

"I'd rather you didn't go out, there's a Slayer out there that wants to kill you."

"Not if I kill her first, which I can."

"Like this? Buffy just relax and let yourself heal before you do anything."

"I can whoop Xander in this state, Angel, just let me be. Would it be so bad for you if I died anyway? It's not like I'm me anymore." She spun on her barefooted heel and made her way to the door. Angel watched after her, a disappointing frown upon his face.

Go to Part Three