Blood and Fire

Author:  anotherlostsoul

Website: http://www.hopelessdreams.com

Pairings: Willow/Spike

Disclaimer:  Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and a lot of other people own the show and all the characters.  The plot and the story are mine. This cannot be sold or used for profit in any way, shape or form. Please don't sue me, because I really don't have anything to take.

Rating:  FRAO/NC-17

Spoilers:  Set around the season 5 episode Crush, so anything before that is fair game.

Warnings:  Dark Fic, Character Death, Explicit Sex, Slash, Torture, Rape/Non-Consensual, Violence

Summary:  Willow and Spike are headed for a confrontation with the Slayer.

Author's Notes:  This is not a nice fic.  It wasn't meant to be nice since I'm writing about vampires, not cute cuddly little bunnies.  If you find the ideas of explicit torture scenes and violent sexual behavior disturbing, stop now and don't read this.

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~Part: 1~

She was going to die.  This time there wasn’t going to be some last minute rescue, no Slayer, no Oz, no Tara, no anyone to stop it.  The absolute truth of it rang clear like a bell, chasing the last remnants of her terror from her mind, letting her face the end with a strange clarity.

‘Dying hurts.  A lot.’  She fought back the irrational urge to giggle at the notion.  Not that she really could have laughed with Drusilla’s fangs buried in her neck.  All these years of fighting vampires and demons, helping Buffy save the world time and again, and now it was over.  ‘This is how it ends,’ she thought, ‘my blood spilling down the throat of an insane vampiress…’

‘As deaths go, it could be worse,’ she thought.  ‘At least it’s not Harmony.’  She felt herself growing tired and weak from the blood loss.

As her mind slipped away into the darkness of death, she heard someone speak, the voice distant and far away, “Drink Little-Tree. Drink and make it all better…”

She wanted to scream, to shout.  ‘No! Not this, let me die, let it be over.  Don’t do this to me!’ But it was too late now, as her body, desperate to live despite her protests, gulped greedily at the coppery-liquid flowing into her mouth.

And then, Willow Rosenberg: hacker, witch, and Slayer’s best friend, was no more.

* * * * *

She woke to the sounds of someone beating loudly on a drum.  The pounding was insistent, frantic even; like the noise of a door being knocked on by someone who was desperate to get inside.  It was a pleasant sound.  ‘It sounds like…fear,’ she thought happily.

Without opening her eyes, she sniffed the air and was assaulted by an onslaught like nothing she’d ever encountered.  She could smell fear and sweat mingled with dust, death, and the sweet aroma of fresh blood pumping in human veins.  It was intoxicating.  Hunger tore at her.  The primal need to taste that blood was overwhelming.  To feel it gush into her mouth, to drink it in and swallow the life and death it carries.

She opened her eyes and sat up.  The cool air in the crypt felt wonderful on her skin as she moved, prickling it like a thousand tiny needles.  She realized she was naked, but that seemed unimportant to her.  What mattered was the man she saw chained to the wall.  She listened again; savoring the beat of the drum she could hear hammering in his chest.  ‘So that’s what a heartbeat sounds like,’ she thought amused.  As she stood and moved toward him, it beat even faster.  She smiled.

Gone was the soft, friendly smile of the girl she’d once been, the smile that spoke of caring and concern for others had been replaced by the smile of a demon.  It was a coldly seductive smile, one that spoke of lust and promised both pain and pleasure.  As she stared at him intently, the smell of his fear exploded in intensity.

“Shhh,” she whispered softly as she laid her hand on his chest.  “I promise it won’t hurt…” She felt her true face emerge and grinned wickedly at the odd sensation of it as she pressed her naked body against the man.  “Much.”  She tore into his throat with lustful abandon, sinking her razor sharp fangs as deep as she could into his neck, piercing his carotid artery.  .  She moaned with delight as the hot blood gushed into her mouth and she drank it down deep and greedily.

The taste of it was like nothing she’d ever experienced, it was sweet and savory and wonderful.  She could feel the warmth of it spreading instantly outward from her center, radiating into every extremity, flushing every inch of her skin with its heat.

She felt some of the blood trickle down her chin as she struggled to swallow each spurt.  It tickled as it dripped down, falling onto her breasts in tiny drops.  She could smell her own arousal mixing with the scent of the man’s blood and lingering fear.  Her demon savored every moment of it.

Scant moments later, the rush of blood slowed, as did the pounding of his heartbeat.  She began to suck at the wound, coaxing as much of the blood out as she could.  She felt an intense joy as the man died in her arms.  His death filled her in a way that nothing ever had before as she dropped the now empty husk; she wiped the blood from her chin with her hand and licked the delicious, sticky fluid off her fingers.

She could feel the presence of her sire somewhere below her, along with another vampire.  There was a connection there, a line of blood she could feel, but not explain.  This other vampire… it was part of her somehow.  ‘Family,’ she thought suddenly.  She smiled again as she felt her human face return.

‘This is Spike’s crypt,’ she thought suddenly, as the memories of her mortal life began to come back to her.  A sudden realization slammed home, Spike was her sire!  ‘How is that possible?’ she wondered in amazement.  ‘His chip...’ She reached out with her mind, exploring her connections to the other vampires and suddenly the pieces fell into place.  It was Drusilla, her grand-sire, that was below with Spike.  ‘Drusilla drained me, and Spike turned me,’ she reasoned.

She looked around and found the hole that led into the chamber under the crypt, where her sire and grand-sire waited.  There was a wooden ladder leading down and she stared at it for a moment, trying not to giggle.  It seemed so odd, so out of place to have a ladder there, so…well, human.  Ignoring it, she dropped soundlessly into the open space.

She landed with a nearly feline grace and exulted in the feeling of her own strength.  ‘No more mousy little hacker-witch here,’ she grinned wickedly at the thought. ‘That Willow is dead and gone.’

Glancing around, she saw Drusilla and Spike standing at the foot of Spike’s bed.  Dru stared at her happily, obviously pleased with her, and Willow swelled with pride at her grand-sire’s tacit approval.

“There’s the Little-Tree,” Drusilla said with a purr in her throat.  “Spike’s girl is all well again and ready to be with us forever.”

She could smell her own arousal growing deeper and more intense as she walked sultrily over to Drusilla and put her arms around her grand-sire.  “Mommy,” she said in her best little-girl voice before kissing Drusilla.  She felt Drusilla’s soft, cold arms wrap around her and settle against her bare, blood-warmed flesh.  They slid seductively over Willow’s back before grabbing her ass firmly and pulling her flush against her grand-sire.  Willow opened her mouth against Dru and sighed in delight as her elder’s tongue invaded her mouth.

She felt her demon surge to the fore as Drusilla slipped into her game face and pierced her lip with her fangs.  As her grand-sire sucked gently on her now bleeding lip, drinking from her, she felt a surge through their connection.

‘This is love, this is Family, and this is what matters,’ her demon assured her.  Within moments her lip stopped bleeding and without ever pausing in their deeply passionate kiss, Drusilla sliced her own tongue open and gifted her newest grand-childe with her precious blood.

As the cold blood flowed into her mouth, Willow gasped.  Human blood was nothing compared to this sweet nectar.  This was divine ambrosia given shape, every drop a symphony of power and fire, strengthening her.  This was as close to Heaven as a demon could ever get.  She sucked greedily at her grand-sire’s bleeding tongue, luxuriating in the gift.  She growled deeply as Drusilla pulled back, grinning evilly.

“Such a wicked Little-Tree you are,” Drusilla said with a seductive smile as she brought one of her cold hands around and cupped Willow’s dripping mound slipping one finger between her wet folds.

Willow gasped sharply at the intimate touch.  She could smell her own arousal and Spike’s jealousy as Drusilla paid attention to her.  It felt so good.  Deciding to ignore Spike for now, she looked Drusilla in the eye and gave her grand-sire her best puppy-dog eyes, the ones she’d always used to get Tara to let her have her way.  “Playtime now?” she asked, continuing to use her little-girl voice since Drusilla seemed to enjoy it.

“Playtime? Playtime?”  Spike’s voice sounded rough, dangerous.  She never even saw him move before he struck her roughly, sending her sprawling painfully to the stone floor.  “No, Red,” he snarled.  “It’s not sodding playtime, it’s bloody well time you learned your place.”

He didn’t give her time to react before he grabbed her roughly by the hair and hauled her to her feet.  She could taste her own blood in her mouth where his fist had split her lip.  Her demon flew into a rage and she lashed out, catching the blonde bastard squarely in the gut with her fist.

He didn’t even flinch at the impact, instead he released her hair and backhanded her, sending her flying into the crypt’s wall.  “She’s a fighter she is Dru,” he commented angrily, slipping into his demon face.  “Gonna be fun to break her.”

The impact with the rough wall hurt.  She felt the pain exquisitely and could feel herself growing wet in response.  The thick musk of her own arousal grew heavy on the air as she forced herself to her feet to face her enraged sire.

“With that cheap hunk of plastic in your head, I’d be surprised if you can remember how to break anything,” she growled defiantly.

“Play nice children,” Drusilla called airily as she slipped out of the crypt.  “Mummy will be back later.”

Willow glanced toward Dru, distracted by her words for a split second.  It was all the time Spike needed.  He closed the distance and grabbed her viciously by the throat, lifting her off the ground and squeezing just enough to hurt.

“You’re gonna pay for that little one,” he growled.  “For that and every other little snide comment you and the rest of the Slayerettes ever made.”  He spun, hurling her forcefully across the room into another wall.

She snarled in protest at being punished for things done by the Slayer and her insipid little band of helpers.  Then her head struck the wall and everything went black.

* * * * *

She awoke to a deep, biting pain in both of her wrists.  A quick glance revealed that she had been chained up, with her own weight causing the cuffs to cut into the flesh of her wrists.  She stood with a growl, releasing enough of the tension to ease the pain in her wrists.

Angrily, she assessed her situation.  She was facing into an alcove in the under-crypt, with her back to rest of the room.  She could hear someone moving slightly behind her and she angrily tried to look at her captor.  The chains, however, prevented her from being able to turn enough to catch even a glimpse of Spike.

There was a sudden sharp cracking noise behind her and a stripe of bright pain flashed across her back from her right shoulder to her left buttock.  She jerked, pulling hard against the chains, struggling to get free.

“Struggle all you like Red,” came Spike’s cold voice from behind her.  “Those chains could hold the Slayer; they’ll bloody well hold you.”  The crack sounded again and a second lash scored the flesh of her back.

“FUCK YOU!” she screamed as a third crack sounded and the lash seared across the backs of her thighs.  She could feel the blood trickle down her legs where the blow had split her skin.  He struck her again and again, each blow carefully aimed to bruise, batter, or cut undamaged flesh. She struggled fiercely, trying to break free to exact vengeance on the creature that dared treat her thus.

The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt.  It seemed as though every nerve in her body were tied directly to her sex.  Every lash was like fire across her skin, driving her arousal.  She could feel the juices flowing from her, dripping and running down her legs.  Slowly, she stopped struggling against the chains.  Every lash brought pleasure and pain in equal measures now, and she felt herself give in, give over to the pleasure.

The blows just kept coming every one driving her further and further through pain toward ecstasy.  Then, as abruptly as they started, the blows stopped.  She snarled her frustration.  She could hear Spike moving around behind her, but he didn’t speak.

“Don’t stop, please,” she whimpered.

There was a distinct sneer in Spike’s voice as he whispered harshly in her ear, “We’re not done yet little one.  But this isn’t about what you want.”

The she heard the distinct sounds of him walking away from her, leaving her alone in the crypt.

“No!” she growled, struggling against her chains again.  “No!” She screamed as she began to weep, bloody tears of anger and frustration streaming down her face.

* * * * *

Hours had passed before she heard the sounds of someone dropping into the under-crypt.  The faint rustle and the scent of leather and tobacco told her clearly who it was.  Spike was back.  She shifted slightly, trying to ease the unnatural tension in her arms and shoulders from having been motionless in her chains for so long.

She heard the distinct sounds of him walking by and she involuntarily flinched, tensing up as she waited to see what he did next.  She was answered but the sound of a zipper being lowered and before she could respond, she felt his cold hands on her hips as he thrust his cock into her roughly.

She gasped at the sensation; her own arousal had long since faded into unsatisfied frustration.  Every hard, fast thrust into her dry cunt hurt, but her demon responded to them.  She thrust her body back against him forcefully, trying to take him deeper, the burning pain quickly turning to hot arousal.  Within seconds though, he thrust hard one last time and spilled his cold seed inside her before pulling out roughly.  She ground her teeth together and growled in frustration.

Pain blossomed out across her back as he drove a booted foot hard into her, causing her to sag against her chains since her legs would no longer support her.  “Are you learning anything at all in there you stupid little bitch?” he growled.  He reached up and grabbed her hair, jerking her head back so she could see his face.  The gold eyes of his demon bore into hers.  “You don’t speak, you don’t make a sodding sound, you don’t move, you don’t do a bloody thing until I tell you to.” He shoved her head forward.

A sharp crack sounded, revealing that Spike had picked up his whip once more.  She suppressed her desire to smile as the sharp blow shot through her.  She remained still, dangling painfully from her chains, enjoying the biting pain in her wrists.  Blow after blow rained down on her back, shoulders and buttocks but she held perfectly still, savoring the stinging heat soundlessly.

‘It’s so much easier to just obey him,’ she thought suddenly, happy in the realization.  She felt her arousal building toward release and clamped down on it, fighting it back while savoring the pleasure from each painful lash.  Abstractly, a part of her mind wondered about it, ‘why am I holding back, it would be so easy to let go, to ride out the pleasure, to enjoy the orgasm I can feel building.’

‘But your Master didn’t say you could,’ her demon snarled back in her mind.

And finally, she understood Spike’s first lesson.

* * * * *

That day as she slept, she dreamt.  She dreamt of the end of a mortal life…her mortal life.  And she remembered…

She remembered her panic and terror when Drusilla had grabbed her.  She remembered how much it hurt as those fangs sank in.  She remembered the calm realization that she was dying and finally her anger when Spike’s blood poured down her dying throat.

She smiled as she opened her eyes.  She was snugly lying between the naked bodies of her sire and grand-sire.  She reached up and ran her hand along the smooth, cool flesh of her sire’s shoulder and arm, feeling deeply satisfied with her place in the world.

She could feel the sun sinking below the horizon above her and she was hungry.  Her entire body seemed to burn with the need for blood.  Moving carefully so as not to disturb her elders, she slipped off the bed.  She could hear a heartbeat somewhere nearby, a human heartbeat.  It wasn’t in the crypt but it was close.

She looked down at her naked body and frowned, realizing she would need clothes if she were going to go out without attracting attention to herself.  She looked around the crypt, hoping to find something she could wear.

Not finding anything, she decided she didn’t really care.  Anybody who’d see her was going to be dead when she finished with them anyway, so whether or not she was naked wouldn’t really matter.  She strode toward the entrance to the upper crypt when she saw something out of the corner of her eye, the perfect outfit.

She picked up the black pants almost reverently, reveling in the buttery-soft feel of the supple leather.  ‘I’ve worn pants like these before,’ she thought suddenly.  ‘They belonged to the other me.  The vampire Willow from Anyanka’s brave new world.’

She laughed aloud at the memory, the rich tones of her voice echoing sharply in the stillness of the under-crypt.  She brushed her fingers across the blood-red silk of the top, savoring the smooth, cool feel of the fabric.

“Does my Little-Tree like her presents?” Drusilla’s voice floated softly through the air.

“I like them very much, Mommy.”  It seemed so natural to slip into that little-girl voice when she spoke to her grand-sire.

“Well put them on already Red,” Spike ordered roughly.  “We’re going hunting.”

She dressed quickly, finding that the clothes her grand-sire had brought her fit perfectly, right down to the black leather boots.  She turned quickly to face her sire, watching while he slipped on his trademark black leather duster.

He looked her over, nodding his approval.  “I always reckoned you’d look good in leather and silk,” he commented as he walked over to her.  He leaned down and kissed her roughly, slipping into his demon face and slicing open his lip for her.

Animal lust hit her hard when the scent of his blood reached her.  She kissed him back savagely, her own demon coming to the fore.  Suddenly Spike’s hand grabbed her hair and jerked her back brutally.

“Lesson the second little one,” he growled roughly.  “You are not some bloody minion, you are my childe.  There's not a single sodding vamp in this town that's stronger then us.  You submit to no one outside of the Family.  No. One.   Understand?”

She thrilled at the rush of wetness between her legs as her body and her demon responded to him.  “Yes, sire,” she responded, submitting instantly to his authority.

“Right then,” he said releasing her.  “Let’s go.”

“Sire?” she said tentatively as he turned toward the exit.  He stopped cold and looked at her, narrowing his eyes.  “I can fix it you know…”

“You can bloody fix what, Red?” he asked harshly, chaffing at the delay.

“The chip,” she said quietly.  “I found the schematics for it in Adam’s files.  The ones that he had you give the Slayer.  I can disable it completely with a simple spell.”

Dru slid through the crypt and stopped at Spike’s side before whispering, “I told you she could make it all better, didn’t I my deadly boy?”

Spike stood there, jaw-slack, staring at his childe.  “You can get this sodding thing out of my head?”

“No… well, yes, actually… but that might take your whole head with it,” she replied with a wicked smile.  “What I can do is break the chip - burn out its relays so that it can’t shock you anymore.  It’ll hurt…a lot, but after that it won’t bother you ever again.”

His look of surprise quickly turned into one of pure demonic glee.  “What do you need for this mojo?”

* * * * *

She smiled as Spike threw open the door to the Magic Box.  Giles and Anya had clearly long since closed up for the night.  “After you, luv,” he said with a smile, gesturing for her to precede him into the shop.  She could smell his anticipation, his eagerness to be rid of his electronic leash.

Stepping through the door, she was instantly assaulted by the memories of her breathing life.  She was appalled by the way her mortal self had played the faithful sidekick to the Slayer.  The way she’d let them push her around and treat her like a nobody - just another accessory to that self-righteous bitch.  It sickened her.

With a growl, her demon face emerged.  She could smell them, all of them, the Slayer, the key, the condescending Watcher, the vapid ex-demon, the basement rat, and Her - the mousy little blonde witch, the love of her pathetic mortal life.

“Sire?” she asked abruptly, her voice cold and calculating.  “Have they realized I’m dead yet?”

“No pet, they haven’t,” he answered.  “They think that Glory has you.”

She grinned evilly, “I want to kill them all, sire.  Every last one of them.”

“And we will, luv,” he replied, his voice like silk.  “As soon as I’m back in the game.”

She strode purposefully across the shop to a shelf holding a variety of crystals.  Selecting one, she turned to her sire and spoke, “Then let’s get you fixed up… shall we?”

She walked back to her sire, holding the crystal in her left hand and placing her right on his forehead.   She concentrated and began to chant softly in Latin.  The air crackled softly as static electricity began to build around them.  She fought against the urge to laugh as she realized how much easier doing magick was for a demon.

“Desparatus!” she declared, completing the incantation.

“Bloody Hell!”  Spike screamed as he fell backwards clutching his head and convulsing painfully.

“It’ll pass in a moment,” she reassured him coolly.

“It better sodding pass, or I’m gonna rip your bloody head off,” he growled angrily, but she could already tell that the pain was fading.

She turned her back on him and walked back to the shelf where she’d gotten the crystal.  She turned again just in time to see Spike’s fist a split second before it slammed into her face.  The force of the blow dropped her to the floor, her head spinning fiercely.

She started to move to try and get up when his boot crashed into her ribs driving her into the wall. Snarling, she tried to roll out of the way as a second kick slammed home but there was nowhere to go.  Again and again his heavy boot crashed into her, battering her mercilessly.

“I don’t need your bloody reassurance bitch,” he spat when he was finished.  “Don’t you ever forget your place again!”

“I won’t, sire,” she whimpered meekly without moving.

“Now, stand up!” he barked harshly.

She moved slowly, moaning as several of her ribs revealed that the beating Spike had given her had broken them.  A thin line of blood dripped slowly down her chin from her lip, and she wrapped her arms around her pained ribs delicately.

Spike stepped close to her and smiled tightly when she held her ground without flinching.  Her demon purred happily in her mind as she saw the look of pride in her sire’s eyes.  Gently, he reached up and put his hand on the back of her head, pulling her close and pressing her face into his neck.

“Drink childe, you’ll need your strength,” he whispered softly, so that only she could hear him.  “I’m in the mood for a spot of violence, the night is young, and there’s Slayerettes out there that need killing.”

She sank her fangs into her sire’s neck deeply and greedily drank his powerful blood.  She could feel the bones knitting themselves back together and the painful bruises fading as her sire’s essence worked its healing magic on her.  After a moment, he pushed her away, forcefully stopping her feeding.

“That’s enough Red,” he said firmly.  “Now, which one of your old friends shall we kill first?  That stupid git Xander? Or maybe we’ll pay ol’ Ripper a visit eh?”

She spoke softly, “Tara.  Let’s do Tara first…I want to hear her screaming my name one last time.” She grinned wickedly.  “It’ll be the last sound she ever makes…”

* * * * *

She forced herself to breathe in slow ragged breaths, the way she would if she were seriously hurt and still needed to breathe.  She fought to keep from smiling as she lay in her sire’s arms.  A simple glamour made her appear as though she’d been tortured badly; it should be enough to fool anyone who saw her.

“Ready little one?” Spike whispered quietly, so that nobody could have heard him, even if they tried.

“Ready, sire,” she whispered back.

He reached up and pounded furiously on the door to her dorm room, the room she’d shared with Tara.  They knew she was there, they could hear her heartbeat inside.  Now it was just time to play the part.

He beat on the door a second time, not giving her time to respond.  “Hurry!” he called out, forcing a tone of urgent concern into his voice. “It’s Red, she’s hurt!”

Abruptly the door flew open and Tara looked at them, her face was red and tear-streaked from crying. “Oh Goddess! Willow!” she gasped when she saw the apparently battered body of her lover.  She moved aside, “Bring her in, put her on the bed,” she said quickly, “I’ll call 911.”

Willow and Spike both grinned wickedly as he stepped across the threshold of the witch’s room and set Willow on her feet.  “I really don’t think that’s necessary love,” she said with a hint of malice in her voice as she released her glamour.

Tara spun around at that sound of Willow’s voice.  The sight that greeted her was the last thing she would have ever expected to see.  Her girlfriend stood, uninjured, with her arms wrapped around Spike.  There was an unfamiliar, almost predatory gleam in the redhead’s eyes, and a cold, seductive smile on her lips.

“W-Willow?” she asked uncertainly.

“What’s the matter Tara?” Willow asked innocently, putting on a hurt expression.  “Isn’t my girl happy to see me?”

“Y-you’re not m-my W-Willow,” the blonde witch said softly, the obvious pain in her voice sending a thrill of arousal through the vampires.

“She may not be your Willow anymore,” Spike taunted.  “But she was until two days ago, when me an’ Dru turned her.”  Spike leaned over and kissed Willow passionately.  “Now she’s mine.”

Tara turned desperately and made a grab for the phone, only to have it fly off the table and sail across the room, jerking the wires out of the wall.  “Now, just who were you going to call baby?”  Willow asked her coyly.  “The cops?  Buffy?” She growled as she mentioned the Slayer’s name.  “You know they’d never get here in time to save you, and even if they did we’d just have to kill them too.”

Willow walked over and gently stroked the witch’s cheek with her cold hand.  “Do you really want to be responsible for getting someone else killed?  Isn’t getting me killed enough of a burden on your poor conscience?”  She grinned wickedly as Tara closed her eyes and tears quietly began spilling down her face again.  She casually circled around the blonde as she continued.  “I mean, if you hadn’t said those things, if we hadn’t had that fight, I never would have run off now would I?  I would still be alive, wouldn’t I?”

A sidelong glance at her sire revealed that he was leaning casually against the door, watching her with a proud smile.  She grinned wickedly and moved in front of the witch once more.

“W-Willow,” Tara whispered softly, looking her in the eye. “P-please, don’t d-do this.”

With a snarl, Willow struck her with a savage backhand, driving her to the floor.  “Aww,” she said, feigning innocence, “But I wanna… But no, with you it was always ‘Don’t’ and ‘You shouldn’t’ and ‘It’s not right’.”  She walked over and crouched down to face the girl.  “You were always such a killjoy Tara, I’m surprised I stayed with you as long as I did,” she said matter-of-factly, keeping her tone as blunt as possible.

“T-that’s not t-true,” the blonde stammered.  “You’re not h-her, y-you’re just a demon…an evil t-thing wearing the f-face of the woman I l-loved.”

The vampiress smiled tightly as the smell of fear rolled off the girl in thick waves, the scent was getting her wet.  “You’d like to think that wouldn’t you?  It’d make it easier, to think that I’m not Willow.  Not the woman you knew.”  She leaned in close and whispered in Tara’s ear, “Don’t believe everything the Slayer and her Watcher tell you, sometimes they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Abruptly Willow grabbed Tara by her hair and stood up dragging the witch roughly to her feet.  She looked the blonde in the eye “Know this: if you scream you're condemning anyone who comes to check to a very messy end.  I'll keep you alive and make you watch as I torture them to death… very slowly.  Understand?”  Her voice was cold and deadly.  Tara whimpered and nodded.

Willow smiled, letting go of the blonde’s hair and gently running her fingers across the witch’s cheek and down her neck, coming to rest on the neckline of her blouse.  “That’s my good girl,” she said softly, before grabbing the blouse firmly and jerking down forcefully, ripping the front out of it and exposing her bra-clad breasts.  Tara whimpered again, biting back a startled scream.

“Sire,” the red-haired vampire called out as she ran her cool fingers over the smooth soft skin between the witch’s ample breasts.  “Did you know that she’s never been with a man?”  Tara began to shake and the scent of her fear grew even stronger.  Willow turned a deliberate glance toward Spike.

Smiling, her Sire walked over and stood behind Tara before responding, “Is that so?”

Willow’s fingers caught on the witch’s bra, and with another jerk, she tore through it.  She licked her lips as the fabric covering the girls tits parted, exposing them to her appraisal.  She reached up and pushed the ruined blouse and bra off the witch’s shoulders letting them fall to the floor.

Spike reached around from behind the girl, dragging his hand over her exposed stomach before roughly grabbing one of her breasts.  Tara gasped and bit her bottom lip hard to stifle her urge to scream as he fondled her roughly, squeezing her breast hard before pulling forcefully on the nipple.  Her entire body continued to shake uncontrollably in her terror.  He pulled her roughly backwards into him and she could feel the hard lump of cock pressing against her.

He didn’t say a word as Willow grabbed the waist of the blonde’s skirt and ripped through that as well, letting it join the rest of her ruined clothing on the floor around her feet.  The vampiress reached up and grabbed Tara’s face, placing a hand on each cheek and pulled her into a rough kiss.

She forced her tongue between the blonde witch’s lips, invading her mouth roughly before letting her demon face come to the fore.  Her sharp fangs slid right through the Tara’s bottom lip, tearing it into a bloody mess. The witch’s scream of pain was swallowed by the vampire’s mouth as she fought desperately to pull away from Willow’s biting kiss.

Spike, meanwhile, grabbed her panties roughly, and with a hard pull ripped them off, exposing her fully.  He pulled back slightly and a few moments later she felt him press something hard and cold against her anus as he gripped her hip tightly with his hand.

Realizing what he intended to do she tried to scream again, only to have Willow move suddenly to grab her tongue, using her fangs to pierce it brutally as she struggled against her assailants.  Tears of anguish flowed freely from her eyes as Spike shoved his hard cock into her roughly, tearing skin and muscle.  She sobbed and continued to struggle as Spike began to thrust into her ravaged passage.

Willow pulled away from her mouth and looked her in the eye and savoring the terror and degradation she saw there as Spike continued to fuck her brutally.  “Good-bye lover,” she said with a smile, before burying her fangs in the girl’s throat.  Following his childe’s lead, Spike sank his fangs into the opposite side of Tara’s throat, allowing them both to drink deeply of the girl’s magic-rich blood.

Willow savored every drop, relishing the tastes of fear, pain and humiliation that it carried.  She listened intently as the girl’s heart slowed and finally stopped before she withdrew her fangs.  She turned her head toward her sire and was met with a fierce kiss: tongues, lips and fangs clashing together forcefully with Tara’s corpse pressed between them and Spike’s cock still buried in the now dead body.

After several minutes, Willow pulled back and looked her sire in the eye.  “This one’s all broken, sire,” she said in her little-girl voice.  “Let’s go find someone else to play with.”

~Part: 2~

Willow smiled as they walked slowly back to the crypt.  Spike’s arm was draped over her shoulder affectionately and one of her arms was wrapped around his waist.  The warm sense of her sire’s approval filled her mind, leaving her demon purring contentedly in its wake.

She’d no idea that Spike could be such an artist.  They knew they wouldn’t have the time to go after anymore of the Slayer’s little cronies tonight, so they spent some quality time arranging a message for her.  One that she would probably not find for a day or two.  A message that consisted of the naked, brutalized body of the little blonde witch nailed, spread eagle, to the wall of her own room…with railroad spikes.

It was a beautiful sight as far as Willow was concerned.  One that was certain to unnerve the Slayer and any of her little friends who were still alive when she was discovered.

Her happy smile went cold as she felt other vampires moving in the darkness around them.  She tensed slightly against her sire, reaching out with her vampiric senses, trying to find them.

“Remember what I told you little one,” Spike growled too low for anyone but Willow to hear.  “Or do I need to beat that lesson into you as well?”

“Is that a promise?” she purred seductively, relaxing instantly at her sire’s growl.  The idea of a few hours spent under the careful attentions of Spike and his whip sent a surge of heat straight to her sex.

Spike grinned, as he smelled her arousal, “You are a wicked little thing.”  His voice grew husky.  “A good beating and bloody shag would be a fine ending to this night, now wouldn’t it?”

“Mmmm, sounds perfect to me,” she growled, feeling her demon respond.  She reached up and kissed her sire soundly while grabbing roughly at his hardening cock.  She savored the feel of it stiffening in his pants under her hand.

A moment later, Spike pulled back, “Now luv, we’ve to deal these unwelcome guests first.”

“Show yourselves and get on with it already, I have no patience for you bloody minions and your sodding games,” Spike called out loudly.  Almost instantly a half-dozen of them and their master, a glorified minion himself with no more then a couple of decades under his belt, appeared before them in a loose semi-circle.

“Spike,” the would-be master vampire said casually.  “The word is you’ve been helping the Slayer against your own kind.”

Spike grinned, “And just what do you think you could do about it junior?  Bore me to death?  Bruise my fist with your face?  Get your bloody dust all over me?”  He sneered as the other vampire snarled.  “Red? This stupid bugger is annoying me,” he said bluntly.

Willow smiled and pointed at the vampire in question and said, “Ignis Incende!”  With a sudden shriek, the vampire exploded into flame and crumbled to dust.  “Who’s next?” she asked with an eager gleam in her eye as the remaining vampires stared blankly at them for a moment before scattering.

“Bloody minions with delusions of grandeur,” Spike grumbled, “Aside from the Slayer and her lot there’s no sodding challenges in this town anymore.”

“Poor Spike, bored already?”  Drusilla’s voice lilted lazily through the cool night air.  She appeared from the shadows and slid over, wrapping herself around Spike opposite his new childe.  “But you and the Little-Tree seem so happy.  Miss Edith told me you went to see the Slayer’s shy little witch tonight…did you have a pleasant visit?”

“We had a very nice time, Mommy,” Willow said quietly in her little-girl voice while Spike smirked.  “And we left a nice little surprise for the nasty old Slayer.”

“Too bloody right we did,” Spike said proudly.  “A surprise that bitch won’t soon forget.”

“I’m so glad you fixed my darling boy,” Drusilla said to Willow.  “But now my grand-mummy needs me…” She hummed quietly for a few moments before continuing, “We’re going to bring Daddy back and be a happy Family again.”

Willow smiled at the thought of the Family turned loose on the unsuspecting populace of LA.  The death and mayhem they could cause in the city of angels would be the stuff of legends.  ‘But the Slayer and her friends have to die first or she could ruin everything,’ she thought.

Drusilla stopped and looked at Spike, “Will you and the Little-Tree come to LA Spike?  I should very much like to be a family again…” She grinned evilly, “And Daddy will be quite happy with your childe.”

The thoughtful look on his face made Willow uneasy.  Through her connection to him she could feel his turmoil and the depth of his love, and his hate, for Angelus.  Like almost everything about her sire, this was complicated.

He noticed her watching him and grinned before answering Drusilla, “I reckon we will, Dru.  LA is bound to be more fun then this place once Slutty the vampire slayer is out of the way.”

Dru smiled brightly, letting go and pulling away from him as they reached the entrance to the crypt.  “Go below and get undressed,” he ordered Willow cursorily before he turned and looked to Drusilla.

Willow smiled and did as she was told, walking quickly to the opening that lead to the under-crypt and dropping down quietly.  She undressed quickly in anticipation of the playtime that Spike had promised.

Within moments, her sire and grandsire dropped through the hole and joined her in the under-crypt.  There was a hungry look on both of their faces as their eyes roamed over her naked body, and the lustful stares sent a surge of arousal straight to her sex and brought a wicked grin to her face.

Her two elders stood together beneath the entrance and left her to watch as they exchanged a heated kiss.  Within moments she smelled the musky, heady scent of Drusilla’s arousal mixing with her own.  Drusilla pulled away from Spike and crossed to where Willow stood.

Drusilla wrapped her arms around the red-haired fledgling and pulled her close.  She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of her grandsire pressed tightly against her naked flesh.

“You’ve been a very good girl Little-Tree,” the dark-haired vampiress whispered in her ear.  “So your Daddy and I have decided to give you a present.”  She paused briefly, sucking Willow’s earlobe into her mouth and scraping her teeth over it before continuing.  “We’re going to play with you.”

Her whole body tingled in anticipation, as she pulled at Drusilla’s clothing, tearing and rending fabric in an effort to get to her grandsire’s bare flesh.  A moment later she felt Spike’s strong arms wrapping around her from behind and pulling her onto the bed.

Her demon purred in anticipation as Spike’s fangs sank roughly into her shoulder.  The pain was sharp and intense, and served only to heighten her arousal.  Turning her head toward him, she licked his cheek, causing him to pull up and kiss her savagely.  Their fangs tore at each other’s lips and tongues and they both savored the taste of their mixed blood.  She could feel his cock harden as their bodies pressed together.

Glancing back at Drusilla, Willow saw her now naked grandsire smiling.   The dark-haired vampire pushed Willow back onto the bed, as Spike moved away and began to remove his own clothing.  With an animal snarl, the red vampire snapped at Dru, coaxing her demon back to the fore and reveling in the lustful stare of those golden eyes.  Dru positioned herself between Willow’s legs and sank her fangs into the redhead’s thigh, drinking briefly before attacking her dripping wet sex with a skilled tongue.

Willow growled, feeling Dru’s cool tongue enter her just as Spike slid up next to her on the bed.  The blonde vampire turned her over roughly, eliciting an enraged snarl from the fledgling, but she was no match for a vampire Spike’s age.

“Don’t worry, luv,” she heard Spike growl in her ear.  “You’ll right enjoy this.”  She felt him roughly shove two fingers into her pussy.  He drove them deep, painfully deep and she loved the feeling. A moment later, she felt Drusilla’s tongue resume its ministrations as Spike withdrew his fingers.

She bit her lip hard as she felt him roughly press the first of his now wet fingers against the tight ring of her anus.  The feeling sent a shiver through her body and pushed her over the edge, her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm.

She could hear the sneer in Spike’s voice as he spoke again, “Already luv?  We’re just getting started.”  Brutally, he shoved the first of his fingers into her tight passage.  The penetration was extremely painful, but somehow the pain only served to push her closer to a second orgasm.  He worked the finger into her; pulling it out and sliding it back in until it loosed enough for him to slip a second finger in.  Finally, after several minutes, he removed both fingers and she felt him position himself behind her.

She tensed as she felt him push the head of his cock against her anus, and then she screamed as he shoved it roughly into her, tearing muscles and violating her.  The pain of his entrance drove her into a second mind-numbing orgasm.  Once he was deep inside her he stopped moving, just holding his hard cock in place.  She wanted to scream again, she needed him to move, to fuck her and to make it hurt.  Then she felt Drusilla move a little, and her grandsire’s tongue was replaced by three of her fingers.  She gasped at the feeling as Dru spread her fingers slightly, stretching her before pulling back and shoving all four of her fingers in.

Willow gritted her teeth; she wanted to move to squirm, to ride Drusilla’s hand and her sire’s cock at the same time, to enjoy the pain and the pleasure.  Then, just when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, Spike pulled back and slammed in again roughly, sending a searing, burning agony through her as muscles which had already started healing were torn anew.  He fucked her brutally, not caring how she felt and her demon loved every second of it.  After a moment Dru joined in forcefully shoving her entire fist inside Willow’s cunt.  Another orgasm ripped through her as she screamed in pure, animalistic pleasure.  Her body shook with force of it, but they didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, and just kept right on fucking her.

It seemed to stretch on forever, pain and pleasure, frustration and release, until all these things blended together in her mind and she slipped into the blackness of unconsciousness wondering if a vampire could be fucked to death…

* * * * *

Willow awoke with a start, her senses screaming to her of danger approaching.  She knew the sun was just setting, she could feel it, and just at the edge of her perception, she sensed something.  Something powerful, something angry and it was heading toward their crypt.

She felt Spike move next to her and speak suddenly, “Slayer’s coming.  Wonder if she found Glenda yet?”

“Poor little girl,” Dru whispered in a sing-song voice.  “All sad and hurting…coming to ask my Spike questions about the shy witch.”

The irony of it brought an evil smile to Willow’s face as she spoke, “Poor little cry-Buffy, looking for information about Tara.  She could always ask the vampires responsible.”  She turned to Spike and batted her eyes innocently,

Spike chuckled.  “Well, then, I’d best get up top and be surprised.  Wouldn’t do to have her interfering with tonight’s festivities, now would it?”  He stood and dressed quickly, heading up the ladder moments before they heard the door to the crypt open.

Willow lay very still and listened, her vampiric hearing making it very easy to eavesdrop on her sire and the Slayer.

“Slayer,” Spike said gruffly.  “Didn’t expect I’d see you again so soon after your last visit.  Come to torment me some more have you?”

“Spike, I don’t have time for you and your disgusting little…whatever it is.”  Buffy’s voice was rough, as if she’d been crying a lot recently, and her emotions seemed to barely be held in check.  “I need to know if you’ve heard anything about someone new in town.”

Willow frowned slightly as Spike replied, “You still on about that train full of corpses pet?  I already told you…”

The Slayer cut him off abruptly, “This isn’t about the train.”  Her voice wavered slightly and nearly broke as she spoke, “Something killed Tara last night.  Vampire by the wounds on her neck.  Got her in her own room somehow.”

Spike sounded shocked and Willow marveled at his ability to feign emotion, “Glenda’s dead?”  There was a faint sound of movement, Buffy nodding perhaps, before he continued, “I always liked her.  She was good for Red.”  At that Willow had to bite her lip to keep from laughing aloud.

“Willow’s still missing too,” Buffy’s voice did break this time, but she recovered quickly.

“You’ll find her,” he reassured the Slayer sympathetically.  “If that skank Glory had her, we’d have found a body by now.  I’m sure Red’s fine, and she’ll turn up anytime now.”  Willow heard him move and wrinkled her nose at the thought of her sire having to comfort that bitch.

“I’ll check around and see if I can find out about any players in town,” he offered, sounding very sincere.  “Anything else I should know about the witch’s killer?”

Buffy swallowed hard before she spoke.  “They hung her body on the wall of her dorm room.”  She completely broke down this time and Willow could smell the Slayer’s tears, it made the young vampire smile.

“You’d best see to you and yours Slayer…a vamp only goes to that sort of trouble to send a message.  I’d wager it’s you they’re after.  Did you walk Glenda to her dorm last night?”

Willow grinned, they’d already known the answer to that question, but this would serve to make Buffy feel even more responsible.  She realized suddenly just how badly she’d underestimated Spike during her mortal life.  Angelus had taught him how to manipulate people very, very well.  He just didn’t have the obsession with destroying people that his grandsire was so famed for.

Willow heard Buffy begin sobbing tearfully, “Oh God!  It’s my fault…It’s my fault she’s dead…” It was just too perfect.

* * * * *

Willow and Drusilla were dressed and ready by the time the Slayer left and her sire returned to the crypt’s lower chamber.  Time was critical if they were going accomplish everything she and Spike had planned for tonight.

Spike went straight to Drusilla, placing his hands comfortingly on her upper arms, “Are you sure about this pet?  LA could be a dangerous place if Peaches gets all high and mighty on you again.”

“It’s alright my Spike,” she responded softly.  “A little birdie whispered in my ear.  Little-Tree will finish with the Slayer and we’ll all be happy together soon.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “You be careful out there tonight.  The Slayer is right brassed off and not thinking clear, but she’s still dangerous.”  Drusilla kissed him fiercely before floating across the room and disappearing into the world above.

“Let’s go Red,” her sire barked roughly.  “We’ve places to go and people to kill.”

Willow left her sire alone with his thoughts as they stalked across the graveyard.  She could sense something bothering him, but had learned well enough that it wasn’t her place to ask about it.

* * * * *

For his part Spike was pondering the mystery that was his childe.  Something about her was different, different from any vampire he’d ever encountered before.  She was scarcely three days old, yet she projected the strength, will, and self-control he would have expected from a fellow master.

He cast a sidelong glance at his first, admiring her quietly.  She was powerful, there was no doubt there.  Most fledgling childer were headstrong and difficult to control, they were usually interested in nothing but wholesale slaughter and reckless mayhem for the first couple of years of their undead lives.  Willow, however, was calculating and cold.  Planning every step of the way, plotting to kill one of the most dangerous Slayers in history as though it were nothing more than an elaborate game of chess.

She could do it too, Dru had as much as said so and his sire was almost never wrong.  Willow would be the one to take Buffy down.  She was a childe that even Angelus would have been proud to claim as his own, but she was his.  After last night, on some level that he couldn’t fully understand, his demon was beginning to see this newborn fledge as…as a potential equal.  And it disturbed him deeply.

“Who should we kill first tonight luv?” he growled, testing to see if she’d let her attachments sway her judgment.

“Giles,” she responded softly.  “Without him Buffy will be lost.”

He growled again.  She was right of course, and he knew it, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it.  “Ripper eh?  Maybe not who I’d have picked, but he’ll do.  Have a plan for getting yourself an invite?”  He glanced back and wasn’t surprised by the wicked grin on her face.

* * * * *

She watched from the shadows of the courtyard as Spike burst through the door of Giles’ apartment.  Her sire played his part beautifully, sneering and taunting him, attacking sloppily and allowing the Watcher to get the upper hand.  As Rupert backed him into a corner with a cross in hand, Willow stepped up to the door of his apartment.

“Giles!” she cried out in alarm.  “What’s going on?”

“Willow? Thank the heavens you’re alright child!  Quickly, come here and help me, Spike’s chip seems to have stopped working.”  He gestured toward his weapon chest, “Grab a crossbow.”

Willow slipped into her demon face as she stepped across the threshold of the apartment and closed the door quietly.  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea Giles,” she said softly.  “Why would I want to threaten my sire?”

Giles tore his eyes away from Spike and went extremely pale as he saw Willow’s game face.  “No,” he whispered softly, the pain evident in his voice, the cross in his hand forgotten.

As Willow’s golden eyes bored into his, she could see the depths of the pain he felt written across his face.  It was a look she’d seen only once before, in the aftermath of Ms. Calendar’s murder.  She smiled softly, seductively, at him, savoring the pain and the rich scent of his fear and despair.

“Sorry to break it to you Jeeves, but Willow’s dead,” she said in a comforting tone, deeply enjoying his visceral response to her words.  His body tensed as though he had just been hit and a grimace of pure pain flitted briefly across his face.

She waved her hand at the cross he was holding and barked, “Discedo!”  An unseen force ripped it from his hand and sent it sailing across the room.  Her smile never wavered as she slid across the room, moving with a seductive grace that would have made the shy girl she once was blush with shame.

It was only when she reached up to touch him, that Giles finally responded, pulling away abruptly.  “You’re quite right, the innocent child I knew is gone,” he said, his voice strained with sadness.  “I’m sorry Willow, I’m so very sorry.”

The words hung heavily in the air for a moment.  He was feeling sorry for her?  The words struck her as ridiculous; it seemed so utterly absurd that this man, this pitiful mortal creature she was preparing to kill, would feel sympathy for her.  Her demon, however, was not amused.

She growled, a deep menacing rumble, and her entire body tensed with her struggle to contain the impulse to rip his head off.  Her demon raged at her to strike out at him and rend him limb from limb for the sheer audacity of his words.  The fury threatened to overwhelm her and in so doing destroy her plan.

Suddenly the tension drained out of her and she laughed aloud and Giles’ eyes widened in surprise.  “I didn’t know you had it in you Giles,” she remarked appreciatively.  “I always thought that Buffy was the only martyr I knew.”  The smell of his fear deepened at her words.

Abruptly, she crossed to where he stood and patted him gently on the cheek with a smile.  “Any other fledgling vampire would have torn you into tiny little pieces for a statement like that.”  Her smile melted away, replaced by a cold, demonic sneer.  “I’m not your average fledgling though Giles.  You can’t provoke me into to killing you like that.  Nice try though.”

Faster then he could react, she hit him hard, sending his body sailing across the room toward her sire.  He landed in a rough heap, moaning slightly.  She turned toward him and all traces of compassion or warmth fled from her voice.  “You are going to become a vampire Rupert,” she said bluntly, “but I assure you, it’ll only be temporary... Your precious Slayer will see to that.”

She watched for a moment as Giles tried to stand.  When she spoke again, her voice was ice cold, “But before we get to the main event, I think my sire had a few things he wanted to… discuss, with you.”

At her words, Spike grinned evilly and walked quickly over to where Giles lay.  He kicked the older man hard in the ribs, knocking him flat again.  “That’s for chaining me up in your bloody bathtub.”  As her sire rained down kick after kick on Giles, he listed off every slight, every jibe, and every wrong that Rupert had ever committed against the self-proclaimed Big Bad.

Willow smiled, knowing that the blonde vampire was releasing a year’s worth of pent up frustration.  The smell of the former librarian’s blood mixed with the heady aroma of his pain and fear.  It was enticing to the point of being intoxicating.

When Spike had finally finished with him, he threw a cold glance at Willow.  “All right Red, get on with it.  Remember, just a few drops will be plenty.  We want him weak.  Having to stake him will hurt the Slayer more then any minion ever could.”  He stalked toward the door.

She grinned and knelt down, grabbing Giles by the hair and pulling the battered Watcher up to her mouth.  She sank her fangs into his neck and drank, draining him as quickly as she could.  As his heart faltered, she stopped and bit into her wrist.  Holding it over his open mouth, she let some of her precious blood fall on his tongue.

As soon as he swallowed, Spike called to her from the doorway, “That’s enough, now lets go.”

She walked quickly to the door.  As they closed the door and slipped into the cool night air, her sire wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him.   She sighed, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers as they walked.

“Where to now, sire?” she asked softly.

Spike favored her with an evil grin all his own.  “The Magic Box,” he replied softly.

* * * * *

Willow wasn’t happy when she and Spike reached their destination.  They were still a block away from the store when Willow sensed the Slayer’s presence.  Her sire’s reassurance that Buffy couldn’t sense a vampire unless she was really looking for one settled her nerves considerably as they positioned themselves within the shadows of an alley across the street from The Magic Box.

Even at this distance, Willow could see clearly enough through the shop window to ascertain that both of their intended victims were present.  Anya appeared to be counting out the register while Buffy and Xander sat at the large table near the back, appearing to be in research mode.

Luckily they didn’t have to wait too long.  Willow, heard the phone ring in the store, and watched as Anya picked up the phone, spoke briefly and called Buffy over.  A very brief conversation followed, after which Buffy left the shop in a hurry.

Smiling broadly, Willow and her sire casually crossed the street.  Willow entered first, knowing that everyone’s attention would be focused on her initially.  She forced herself into a carefully neutral expression as the bell above the door rang and she walked in.

“Hi guys,” she said, in a casual manner.

“Willow!” Xander nearly shouted as he rushed over to her and threw his arms around her, pulling her into a very tight hug.  “Oh God Will, we were so scared, you just disappeared and no one knew where you where or what happened.”

“It’s okay Xander, everything is fine now,” she whispered softly in his ear.  She felt Spike slip into the store behind her and she grinned evilly before adding, “Well, it’s fine for me anyway.”  She wrapped her arms around him, returning his hug.  She sincerely hoped he would quickly realize that something was wrong.  Between the coolness of her body and the lack of respiration or heartbeat, she figured that even someone as dense as Xander would notice.

“God, Willow, you’re freezing…are you okay?” he started, pulling back slightly to look her in the face.

“Just peachy,” she replied, slipping into her demon face as he watched.  She snarled revealing her fangs and heard Anya scream from across the room.  In a heartbeat, Spike was on her, tearing into her very human throat with his fangs.

Xander went rigid in her arms.  “No, God please…Willow…”

“God has nothing to do with this Xander,” she growled lowly.  “Quiesco!” she uttered, putting the force of her magick behind the command.  She smiled as Xander slumped to the floor unconscious.

A few moments later, Spike dropped Anya’s empty corpse to the floor and asked calmly, “Have we got what we came for pet?”

Willow bent and lifted Xander’s sleeping body from the floor, casually throwing it over her shoulder.  “Yes sire,” she responded cheerily.

“Then let’s get Chubs here back to the lair so we can play with him for a while before the sun rises.”  Spike grinned happily, “He might even outlive the Slayer, if he’s very unlucky.”

Willow shivered in anticipation.  She was looking forward to torturing Xander to death slowly.  Her sire had assured her that with some practice, she could learn to keep a toy alive for days.

* * * * *

“You know this is the first place the Slayer will look once Ripper spills who killed him,” Spike stated flatly as he watched Willow lock the manacles around Xander’s wrists.

His redheaded childe cocked her head at him and smiled, “Yes.  You might even say that I’m counting on it.”  She stood back for a moment admiring the way her new toy hung limply, still unconscious, in his chains.  “I did a spell that will cause the crypt to appear deserted. It’ll only last for one day, but that should be enough to convince her we’re hiding someplace else.”

Spike shook his head, not even surprised that Willow had already anticipated Buffy finding them.  It was damned unnerving, just how thoroughly prepared she seemed to be.

His eyes ran over the makeshift table where he’d laid out a few things for Willow to work with.  A good knife, whip, hammer and a couple pairs of pliers, it was too bad the hardware store was already closed; taking a blowtorch to Xapper would have been fun.  ‘Ah, well,’ he thought happily, ‘if the stupid git survives long enough, I’ll pick one up for tomorrow night.’

She turned to him, and he could see the eagerness in her eyes and hear it in her voice as she asked, “Can we start?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he spoke, “Whenever you’re ready love.”

She waved a hand at Xander’s unconscious body and commanded, “Suscitatio!”  Instantly, the boy woke up, his heart racing in sudden panic and a powerful scent of fear surged through the crypt, bringing a gratified smile to Willow’s face.

* * * * *

Xander struggled, his chains biting sharply into his wrists as he pulled himself to his feet.  He looked around, taking in his surroundings and his heart sank.  He was chained up in Spike’s crypt.  Spike was across the room from him, lounging on the bed.  Then his eyes fell on her, his best friend since kindergarten, Willow.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t her anymore.  It was a demon wearing her face, her body.  Using her memories to hurt the people Willow had once loved.  The redheaded witch he’d loved so much was just one more victim of the hellmouth now.  One more lost friend he would spend the rest of his life mourning.

His eyes began to burn as tears spilled down his face.  She just stood there, staring at him with this wicked smile on her face.  He knew that she was enjoying his suffering, the pain he couldn’t keep off of his face.  He looked away, searching for something, anything, to focus his attention on, so that he wouldn’t have to see her anymore.  His eyes fell on two battered wooden crates stacked together to make a crude table.  The significance of the odd collection of tools lying there wasn’t lost on him.

He was only alive to entertain them.  And this entertainment was going to be about pain, lots and lots of pain.  He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.  His heart seemed to have jumped into his throat; he could feel it pounding fiercely.  He’d seen the aftermath of being tortured.  He’d helped Giles after Angelus had finished with him, but he knew that this was going to be worse.  Far worse.  After all, Angelus had wanted to keep Giles alive, had needing something from him.  Willow and Spike had no reason to want him alive.

“You don’t have to be afraid… just to please me,” Willow purred seductively as she walked over and ran her hands across the assortment of torture implements.

He stared, riveted by fear.  A little voice in the back of his mind screamed that he was going to die here.  ‘No,’ he thought abruptly.  ‘I have to stay alive; I have to survive until Buffy can find me.  She’ll come for me she always comes for me.  Buffy will save me.’  He began to chant that last thought over and over again in his mind, not daring to speak it aloud and provoke his captors.  It gave him hope and his fears began to calm somewhat.

Willow shot him an abrupt look, her eyes narrowing.

* * * * *

The scent of Xander’s fear and the pounding of his heart began to calm slightly and Willow jerked her head around, turning her attention to her toy and considering him carefully.  After a moment, a cold, cruel smile slid across her face as she realized what he was thinking.

“She won’t find you,” she said softly, her voice full of false sympathy.  “She could climb down that ladder right now and all she’d see or hear is an empty crypt.”  She picked up the knife her sire had laid out for her and walked toward Xander while she toyed with it, making sure he saw what she carried.  “No one is going to save you.  There’s no escape.  I’m going to play with you until there’s nothing left to play with.”

She looked him in the eye before she continued, “But if you die before I’m finished with you… I’ll turn your sorry ass into a vampire, give you back your soul, and spend decades visiting every torment I can devise on you.”  She licked her lips and smiled sweetly.  “So be a good boy Xander, and scream for me.”

He let out a startled yelp of pain as she struck, slashing him with the knife from his left shoulder across to his right hip.  The blade left a thin, extremely shallow cut in its’ wake.  It was just enough to hurt without really injuring him.  Tiny droplets of blood welled up down the length of the wound where the tiny capillaries in his skin were severed.

Willow reached up and grabbed his torn shirt and ripped it apart along the slash, baring his chest to the cool air of the crypt.  Then she licked the wound, using her cold tongue to sample the tiny amount of blood she’d spilt.  His entire body shivered at the sensation, and she grinned wickedly as Xander’s nipples hardened in response.  She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “You taste good Xander, it’s all fear, pain and sadness.  I’m really going to enjoy this.”

Stepping back slightly, she put the tip of the blade just under his right nipple and pressed it slowly into the skin.  He drew in a sharp breath as the sharp metal parted his skin, but bit back from crying out.  She sliced downward with deliberate slowness, cutting just deep enough to penetrate the skin and lightly score the muscle beneath.   She watched, smiling as Xander fought against screaming, trying desperately to deny her the pleasure of hearing it.

Xander was stronger then she gave him credit for.  It took two more long slow cuts before he finally broke and screamed, but the sound was worth the wait.  The pain and anguish in that scream went deep and sent a thrill of arousal straight to Willow’s sex.  The sound was like music in her demon’s ears, leaving a burning heat in its wake, a lust to hear it again and again.

“See,” she said sweetly.  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”  She placed the tip of her finger in one of the cuts and pressed her nail in before dragging her finger roughly down the open furrow.  A second scream rang through the air, causing the muscles in her cunt to quiver in anticipation.

* * * * *

The scent of her arousal hung heavily in the air, mixing enticingly with the lingering scents of Xander’s pain and fear.  Willow grabbed her toy by the hair and jerked his head back so she could see his face.  It had taken almost four hours, but the boy had finally passed out from the pain she had so skillfully administered.

She watched as Spike took a deep drag from his cigarette while she tossed the pliers she’d been using back on the table with a look of deep disgust.  She was frustrated, every scream, whimper and groan she had pulled from Xander had fueled her arousal to the point where her entire body quivered with need.  She was wired, it felt like every nerve in her body was connected directly to her sex, every sensation pushed her closer to climax but nothing she’d done had been able to push her over, to give her the release she craved.

Unexpectedly, her sire’s strong cold arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him.  She relaxed into the embrace; the feel of his hard cock pressing against her exciting her further.  As he sank his fangs into her throat, his hands moved over her body, grabbing roughly at her breasts, squeezing hard.  The feelings sent her crashing over the edge.

Her entire body clenched and released, riding out the waves of pleasure that seemed to flood through her.  And then, just as they started to wane, she felt her sire pull her pants down and thrust his cock into her sopping wet mound.  The pain as he abruptly stretched her tense, unyielding muscles set off a second orgasm and as she stood shaking with the force of her climax, he began to move inside her, sliding out and slamming into her with all of his might.

Each thrust felt like it was ripping her apart, tearing through the tension and frustration she’d built up.  She came again and again, each orgasm hitting harder and lasting longer then the one before it.  She screamed with animal pleasure over and over, losing herself in each release until the only thing she could feel was the pain and pleasure as her sire continued to ride her.

~Part: 3~

Her eyes snapped open suddenly.  Willow was lying on top of Spike, their naked bodies pressed together quite comfortably.  Unsure of what had roused her from sleep, she rolled off her sire and quickly looked around the crypt.  Nothing seemed amiss; Xander still hung limp and unconscious from his chains.  Closing her eyes again, she listened intently, but the crypt was quiet.

Her eyes widened as the realization hit home.  There was nothing alive in the crypt, nothing at all.  She slipped quickly off the bed and crossed to where her toy was chained.  She placed a hand on his chest and frowned slightly.  He was cool to the touch.  The torture she’d subjected him to had weakened him, and while she slept his body had succumbed to exposure and shock.

“Don’ worry luv,” she heard her sire’s half-asleep voice behind her.  “There’ll be plenty of other toys to play with once we finish off that bitch Slayer.  Takes practice to make ‘em last, so you’ll just have to keep trying.”

She smiled brightly at the thought and climbed back into the bed next to Spike, kissing him gently before settling back to sleep.

* * * * *

Willow jerked awake suddenly as a sharp stinging pain ripped through her chest.  The pain vanished as abruptly as it came, leaving her wide-awake and sitting upright on the bed.  She could sense that the sun had already set; yet for the first time in her un-life, she’d slept through it.

“What was that?” she wondered aloud.

“Slutty just staked her ex-Watcher,” Spike answered from beside her as he stood and began dressing.  “Shoulda warned you, whenever a vamp you created gets dusted, you feel it.  As you get older and stronger, it’s not as bad, but early on it’s right painful.”

She nodded, listening to her sire, while she got dressed.  “So then, Ripper is finished,” she mused aloud.  “All that leaves between us and Buffy is Joyce and the key.”

“Things could be more complicated than that pet,” he countered abruptly, a tense look on his face.  “What if she calls the poof?”

“Angel?”  She narrowed her eyes and smiled wickedly.  “There’s nothing he could do to stop us, he could only make this easier.”

“Easier?” Spike couldn’t keep his disbelief or his anger out of his voice, although he was not quite shouting.  “How in the bloody hell do you figure that’ll make it easier?  Peaches may be a nancy-boy do-gooder, but he has a nasty habit of buggering up even the best plans.”

She leveled a cool gaze at Spike, unperturbed by his outburst, “Sire… I gave Angel his soul back.  I can lift the curse any time I want, I just have to be in the same room with him.”  She forced her face to remain carefully neutral, not wanting to provoke Spike by laughing aloud at the stricken look of disbelief on his face.

“You can get rid of the soul… bring Angelus back… that easily?” he didn’t even try to keep the shock out of his voice.

“Curses are funny things that way,” she stated with a half smile.  “They’re meant to punish someone, which makes it hard for the victim to intentionally break them.  However, the person who did the cursing can always release them from it.”  She shrugged and pulled on her boots.

* * * * *

Spike stood motionless as he tried to process the news.  Willow could bring Angelus back; give him back his real sire, his mentor.  He wanted desperately to hate Angelus the way he hated the soul, but he couldn’t.  The ties were too strong, even after a century of being ignored by the brooding ponce.

“Sire?” Willow’s voice was soft as she spoke, trying to rouse him from his turmoil.  He knew that she could feel his emotions and desperately wanted to ask about them.  Even as a vampire, she’d retained that inquisitive spark from her human life.  Actually, there was a lot of her human personality left, only without the human morality.

“Sorry luv,” he said abruptly.  He forced a tight smile, “Angelus… well, let’s just say that things between me and my sire are a little complicated, thanks to the soul.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open, “Angelus is your sire?  But I thought, Drusilla?  I mean, the Slayer and everyone, we all assumed…”

He laughed aloud.  “Dru sired me, pet, you’re not wrong about that.  But Angelus… he was my mentor, my teacher.  He made me the vampire I am, not Dru.  He may not have been my sire by blood, but he was the one who acted like a sire to me.”  He laughed again as he put on his leather duster and walked toward the ladder.

She nodded, looking thoughtful before he continued.  “Now come along Red, we’ve got a Slayer’s family to visit, before she can do something about it.”

* * * * *

Willow stood uncertainly at the door to Buffy’s house.  She could easily hear two heartbeats in the house and knew that Buffy was not one of them since she couldn’t feel the Slayer’s presence close by.  The real question was whether or not Buffy had warned her family.

‘Not much I can do about it now,’ she thought, reaching up and knocking on the door.  ‘If they won’t invite me in…’ She heard footsteps approaching, and Dawn opened the door.

Before the younger girl could speak, Willow smiled sadly and said, “Hiya Dawnie…”

Dawn squealed with excitement, threw the door aside and threw her arms around the pale redhead.  “Oh God Willow, we were so worried, Buffy and Xander have been a mess since you disappeared!”

“I… Tara and me, we had a fight… a really bad one.  I just needed to go away, be alone for a couple days.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”  Willow cursed herself mentally; as excuses went it wouldn’t have been bad, but it sounded so weak, so insincere as she said it.

Joyce’s voice called from the kitchen just as the phone rang, “Who is it Dawn?”

Dawn pulled away, standing safely just inside the threshold as she called back, “It’s Willow!  She’s back, she’s okay!”  Dawn’s voice was excited, and judging from her mood, Willow surmised that Dawn hadn’t been told about Tara or Anya, or the fact that Xander was missing.

Willow turned her attention to Joyce’s voice suddenly, listening to half of the phone conversation.

“Buffy?  What is it, what’s wrong?” she heard Joyce say.

Willow cursed under her breath; she had to move quickly, before Buffy spoiled everything.  “So, uh, can I come in Dawnie? Or am I unwelcome after worrying everyone so badly?”

Dawn opened her mouth to speak when Joyce appeared suddenly, “DAWN! Don’t!  Willow’s dead, she’s a vampire!  She and Spike killed Giles last night!”

Willow’s smile went cold, “Actually, we didn’t kill him.  Buffy did that this evening.  We just turned him.”  She fixed Dawn with her gaze and reached out with her will and her magick.  She felt Spike walk up onto the porch next to her.  “Dawn,” she said calmly.  “Invite us in.”

The girl tried to resist, Willow could feel her struggling against it.  She hesitated and Joyce started towards them, meaning to break her eye contact.  The red-haired vampire-witch waved casually toward Joyce and spat, “Thicken!”  She heard the older woman struggling to move as the air coalesced around her making it impossible.

“Invite us in Dawn,” Willow repeated, soothingly.  “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“W-w-willow… S-s-spike…” the teenager said haltingly.  “C-c-come I-I-in.”

Spike spoke as they crossed the threshold into the Summers’ house, “Be quick love, I’m sure the Slayer’s on her way.”  He grabbed Dawn by the throat, “I get the platelet, you can have mum.”

Willow grinned evilly as she replied, “We have time enough for what we planned.”  She grabbed Buffy’s mother by the hair and released her spell before throwing the woman into the dining room and leaving her sire to his fun.

Joyce crashed into the table and fell to the ground.  Dawn screamed from the living room as Spike tossed her as well.  Willow grinned as the woman struggled up to a sitting position.

“It’s funny, isn’t it, Joyce?  You spent all that time wondering if the tumor was going to kill you, all that money on operations and drugs, but in the end… you’re still gonna die.”  Willow smiled as she walked casually toward the human.  “I guess irony really is kinda ironic that way…”

“Willow—” she started.

“Don’t.”  The vampire cut her off.   “Don’t bother.  There’s nothing you can say or do that’s going to change anything.  I’m not interested in your sympathy, or your begging, or anything else.”  She reached down and grabbed Joyce by the throat, lifting her off the floor and letting her struggle.  “Normally, I’d be all about playing with my food a little, but your bitch daughter isn’t leaving me the time for it tonight.”

Another scream ripped through the house, followed by the sounds of Dawn begging and pleading for Spike to stop, to let her go.  Willow smiled brightly before continuing, “But don’t worry Joyce, after Spike gets done violating your youngest daughter as brutally as he can, she’ll be joining you.”  She slipped into her demon face and tore into Joyce’s neck viciously, drinking deeply.

She drank the Slayer’s mother slowly, savoring the taste of her blood, all the while enjoying the sounds of Dawn whimpering and moaning, begging and pleading for Spike to stop, to not do this, as her sire took her in every sense of the word.  As Dawn screamed one last time, Willow dropped Joyce’s now empty corpse on the dining room table.

Walking into the living room, she was greeted with the sight of Spike pulling his pants up.  Dawn’s body was left exposed, her violation obvious to even the most untrained observers.  The wound at her neck was still bleeding, and she was alive, but barely.  “You didn’t finish?” Willow asked curiously, putting her arms around her sire.

“Tasted too much like that bitch Slayer, she did,” he grumbled.  “Took me a sodding week to get the taste of Buffy out of my mouth after that spell you buggered up had her kissing me last year… Bloody Summers women.”

Willow suppressed a giggle; she didn’t want to upset her sire, after all.  “We should kill her.  It wouldn’t do for her to accidentally survive.”   She walked over to the girl’s body, and put her foot on Dawn’s throat.  With a wicked grin, she pushed down hard, crushing the girl’s neck until she felt the spine break.  She twisted her foot forcefully, turning the key’s head at awkward angle.  “That should do it,” she said casually, walking back to her sire’s side.

The vampires walked casually out the front door of the house, leaving it wide open behind them.  Spike put his arm around his childe’s shoulders and pulled her close as they walked.  She wrapped one arm around his waist and reached up with the other, intertwining her fingers with his.  To anyone who didn’t know better, they would look like any number of young couples, happily in love with each other as they strolled down the street.

* * * * *

Standing on the balcony overlooking the dance floor at the Bronze made Willow smile contentedly.  Something about the near frenzied air of people dancing and groping to the sounds of the music was soothing to her.  Happy meals with legs, her sire had once called the throng.  So many lives, so many people, all so clueless about what really went on in Sunnydale.

As Spike’s strong cold arms wrapped around her, she felt her demon let out a deep, rumbling purr.  Her sire spoke softly, knowing that only she could hear him, “So tomorrow night then?  We kill her and leave this town behind forever?”

“No, we finish the Slayer tonight,” she whispered softly, knowing that her sire could hear her perfectly.  “But first, I wanna play a bit,” she turned around in his arms abruptly, and kissed him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and biting it with her blunt, human teeth.  “I’m still hungry.”  He smiled, watching her as she moved away from him, toward the stairs and into the crowd.

The crush of humanity around her was intoxicating, the smells and sounds of blood, the warmth of their bodies, and the rhythm of the music combined to fuel her hunger.  She slid through the mass of people effortlessly, fixed on her prey.  She’d seen the girl from the balcony and wanted her.

The girl was dark-haired, well dressed and pretty, in a common sort of way.  She reminded Willow of Cordelia and of the many years of torment she’d suffered at the hands of Queen C and the Cordettes.  It was the attitude that the girl projected that drew the vampiress in more then anything else, the air of superiority, of privilege, that the girl wore like a crown.  Even the handsome young man on her arm, probably an athlete of some kind, seemed to be just another accessory, one more piece of her outfit.

Willow smiled sultrily as she approached, focusing her attention entirely on the girl.  Her body moved with the lithe, seductive grace that seemed so natural since she had become a vampire.  Her demon reveled in the attention she was suddenly receiving, as she seemed to exude raw sexual energy.  The glances of both men and women lingered on her as she passed.

The girl noticed the redhead’s approach and bristled visibly, assuming that her date was the focus of Willow’s attention.  The strange combination of wistful longing and jealously that filled the girl’s dark brown eyes was deeply appealing to the vampiress.  Without missing a step, Willow reached out and took the girl’s hand, speaking just loud enough for the girl to hear, “Dance with me.”

The look in her prey’s eyes flitted through confusion and surprise to raw lust in the space of heartbeat, and the girl let the vampiress guide her gently out onto the dance floor, leaving behind a sputtering and jealous jock in her wake.  Without words, Willow pulled the girl close, putting both of her arms around the dark-haired human and pulling their bodies together.  She licked her lips seductively as the mortal drew in a sudden breath at the sensation.

They swayed slowly, moving in time with the music, and Willow let her hands slide softly over the girl’s body, touching her lightly, teasing her.  The smell of the girl’s arousal was potent; the sweet musky scent drove a sharp pang of desire straight to Willow’s core.  She wanted nothing more than to shed her human mask and tear into the smooth flesh of the young woman’s throat, to sate her greedy demon on the sweet blood that flowed through those veins.

The song came to an end, and Willow took her hand again, guiding her gently through the crowd to the exit.  The vampiress shot a glance at the young man whose date she’d just stolen, and smiled as he stared in obvious rage as they slipped out of the bar.

The girl never spoke and never resisted as Willow pulled her into an alley next to the Bronze.  The redheaded vampire turned back to the dark-haired woman and kissed her forcefully, devouring the girl’s lips and pushing her into the wall of the bar.  She was surprised that the mortal kissed her back with equal ardor.  Their tongues danced back and forth as they explored each other’s mouths.  Willow pulled away slightly and grinned, before letting her game face emerge.

The sound of the girl’s screams as she was abruptly confronted with the face of a demon rang like music to the vampire’s ears.  Willow sank her fangs in quickly, driving them as deep as she could.  She drank greedily as the rich nectar flowed into her mouth, tasting of lust, passion and fear.  She swallowed every drop, savoring the feel of the woman’s death as her prey’s heart slowed and finally stopped.

Willow let the girl’s corpse drop and turned to find Spike waiting for her, the girl’s date struggling in his arms, with her sire’s hand clamped over the boy’s mouth.  “For me?” she asked sweetly.

Spike grinned savagely, slipping into his own game face, as he growled, “For us, pet.”

Willow grinned in return and stepped close to her sire, leaving the young man’s body pressed tightly between them.  She bit into the young man’s throat viciously, savoring the taste of the spurting blood that surged into her mouth.  She felt Spike shift slightly and the man stiffened as the second set of fangs pierced his flesh.

As the man died under their fangs, she heard Spike whisper, “Still hungry pet?”

She smiled, allowing her face to return to its human mask.  “Always,” she whispered in reply as she took Spike by the arm, “but we have a Slayer to kill and we shouldn’t keep Buffy waiting.”

* * * * *

The graveyard was quiet as they walked back to the crypt from the Bronze.  As they approached, Spike could feel the Slayer’s presence.  Willow had been right again: Buffy was waiting for them.  He stopped abruptly and turned to look at his childe.  There was a look of intent concentration on her face.

“Are you ready for this Red?” he asked quietly.  “Slayer’s not gonna go quietly, no matter how bad you’ve hurt her.  You really think you’ve got what it takes to finish her off?”

Willow looked him in the eye as she spoke, “What do you think, sire?”

He stared into her eyes, looking for an answer.  ‘Can she do it?  Can she kill the Slayer?’ he asked himself quietly.  She smiled slightly for just a moment and something changed.  Her eyes darkened in color and for the first time Spike got a glimpse of just how strong a witch his childe really was as power rolled off of her.  The feeling made his skin crawl.

Deep inside, Spike’s demon answered his question; his girl wouldn’t just kill the Slayer, she’d make her suffer first.  “She’s all yours pet,” he said firmly, stepping aside.  As she grinned wickedly and moved toward the crypt, he whispered just loudly enough for Willow to hear, “Hurt the bitch for me.”

He smiled evilly as she replied, “For us.”

* * * * *

Willow smiled as she pushed the door of the crypt open and stepped inside.  The look on Buffy’s face was priceless – shock, disbelief, pain and despair lay heavily on the air around her.  “What’s the matter Buff?  Were you expecting someone else?” she asked, her voice dripping with cold sarcasm.

Without a word the Slayer rushed at her, stake in hand.  “Divello!” the vampiress spat, throwing her hand up in a protective gesture.  The blonde flew backwards, slamming forcibly into the far wall of the crypt.  The impact was brutal, leaving a spider-web of cracks radiating out across the stone.  Buffy fell to the ground hard, her stake clattering across the stone floor.

“Honestly, Buffy, did you really think you could just stake me like some two bit minion?”  Willow’s kept her tone light.  “I mean, I may be a fledgling vampire, but I’m still Willow.  And just in case you forgot in all the concussion, that makes me the wickedest witch in Sunnyhell now.”

“Willow,” the Slayer moaned slightly as she forced herself up off the floor, until she was resting on her hands and knees.  “Why?  If it was me you wanted, why everyone else?”  Her voice was distraught as she spoke.

“You just don’t get it do you?”  Willow’s voice went cold.  “Without them, you’re nothing.”  She walked slowly toward the Slayer.  “If it weren’t for Xander, you’d be dead already.  Giles, Tara, your mom, the key…me, all of us gave you something to live for, something to hold on to, something to fight for.  Now you have nothing.”

Buffy’s voice was soft as she spoke, “I loved you Will; you were my best friend…”

“Bullshit!” the redhead interjected, cutting her off abruptly.  “I was never anything but convenient for you.  Poor mousy little Willow, always there for you, ‘Old Reliable’.” Gold flecks sparkled in her eyes as her demon stirred, but she held back, keeping her human face.

“You loved me,” she said contemptuously.  “Sure, that’s why you kept turning your back on me.  First for Angel, then for Faith, then Riley, and finally Dawn.  Every time someone new came along, I got to feel like a pair of old shoes, thrown aside in favor of the latest thing.”  She smiled coldly, “I was second-best to everyone else in your life.  Until now.”

Buffy moved suddenly, grabbing her fallen stake and hurling it forcefully at Willow as she sprang to her feet.  The vampire held her hand up wordlessly and the stake stopped midair.  “Nice throw,” she commented snidely.  “Wanna try again?”  The stake turned over in the air to point at the Slayer.  “Catch.”  The stake shot forward as though fired from a crossbow and Buffy dove away, avoiding it narrowly before it exploded into splinters against the stone wall.

“You know Buffy, I don’t think your heart’s really in this,” Willow taunted casually as the Slayer rolled to the feet.  “I mean, really, where’re those trademark puns of yours?  No laughing in the face of death today?”

“The only thing in this room that’s going to die is you,” Buffy shot back angrily.  She moved faster this time, closing on the redhead and throwing a quick series of vicious punches that Willow barely managed to block.  The Slayer followed up with a brutal spin kick caught the vampire in the face and knocked her across a sarcophagus.

Willow rolled aside as Buffy leapt over the stone coffin, pulling a second stake from her jacket.  She lashed out with her foot and caught the Slayer’s leg, putting the blonde off balance and causing her to fall backwards into the sarcophagus.  They both scrambled to get to their feet, but Willow got there first.  “Let’s take this outside, shall we?” she quipped as she landed a powerful backhand blow that sent Buffy flying through the open doorway of the crypt and into the graveyard.

The smell of the Slayer’s blood exploded on the air, and Willow smiled at the realization that Buffy was bleeding.  “It’s sort of poetic, you know,” she said as she walked out after her.  “Once I kill you, all three of us, the original Scooby-gang, will have died right here.”  She smiled again, “Seems fitting doesn’t it?  It all started for us in a graveyard, that’s where it should end.”

“Xander?” Buffy’s voice broke as she said his name.

“Oh, you didn’t find him?  We left him hanging in chains down in Spike’s bedroom.  Seems the little torture session I put him through didn’t agree with him.”  She smirked, “Once I got him started though, he was quite the screamer.”

The anger on Buffy’s face abruptly faded into despair, and Willow felt a surge of triumph as her adversary’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Buffy,” she whispered softly.  “You’ve lost so much now, but it can be over.  All you have to do is ask.”

The Slayer looked at her, absorbing her words slowly.  “You can take the pain away?”  Buffy’s voice was soft, almost child-like when she spoke.  “Make it stop hurting?”

“I can,” she responded softly, a sly smile on her face.  “But you have to ask.”

Buffy swallowed hard, tears spilling down her face.  “I want it to end, Willow.  Please, make it stop…”

Willow knelt down gently and put her hand on Buffy’s face, savoring the pain she could see there.  With her other hand, she brushed the blonde’s hair away from her throat, running her fingers gently over the scar where she’d been bitten before.  Willow slid into her game face and lowered her face to the Slayer’s throat.

She sensed it coming a moment before the girl moved and reacted instantly, grabbing the Slayer’s wrist and halting her hand mere inches before the stake could pierce her heart.  “So I guess we do it the hard way after all,” Willow growled.

Buffy’s face was rigid with anger as she replied, “Guess so.”  The blonde slammed a head-butt into Willow’s face, smiling grimly as the vampire fell backwards from the impact.

Realizing the danger she was in, Willow rolled suddenly to the side just in time to leave Buffy staking the ground instead of her.  She sprang to her feet, her anger finally getting the better of her.  “Consumo!” she barked, pointing at the stake.

Buffy yelped a curse as the wood in her hand burst into flame.  She dropped it, watching it turn to ash as it hit the ground.  “I guess I’ll just have to rip your head off with my bare hands then,” she spat at the redhead as she stood up quickly.

Willow rolled her eyes, “Buffy, you really need every square inch of your ass kicked.”

“Then show me what you’ve got,” she snapped back.  “Cause I gotta say, so far, I’m not impressed.”

“Fulguris!” Willow said suddenly, throwing her hand out with her palm toward Buffy.  A blast of lightning arced out.  The bolt struck the blonde squarely in the chest, sending her flying backwards into a gravestone, which shattered under the impact.  She watched as the Slayer moved, trying to get up again.  “Fulguris!” she repeated, sending a second blast into the fallen girl.

The vampiress smiled darkly as the Slayer convulsed briefly before collapsing, unconscious amid the rubble.  She felt Spike approaching and turned to her sire as he walked up.

“You finished yet, luv?” he asked quietly.

“Not yet.  I have something… special, in mind for her.  I thought I’d make one of Buffy’s nightmares come true.”  She smiled wickedly.

* * * * *

Buffy moaned loudly as she stirred.  Her entire body hurt and she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there.

“It’s about time you woke up.  I was beginning to think you’d never come around,” a familiar female voice said softly.

“Willow?” she called out.  Her voice sounded wrong somehow in her ears, it was too loud, too harsh.  She tried to move, but she couldn’t, it was as if the air around her were holding her still, preventing her from moving.  All she could see was the sky above, as it rapidly lightened with morning’s approach.  “What’s going on?  Why can’t I move?” she could feel panic creeping into her voice.

She heard Willow speak again, “Redivii Memoriale!”

And suddenly she felt like her head was going to explode as the memories of the last few days rushed in on her.  Willow’s disappearance, Tara and Anya’s deaths, staking Giles, her mother and sister, Xander…everything that Willow and Spike had done.  Buffy let out a wail of pain and sorrow at the memories.

She remembered waking up after the fight, chained to Spike’s bed.  The pain, terror and disgust as Spike raped her repeatedly, and the blackness she succumbed to as Willow drained her.  She remembered waking up again, burning with hunger, remembered her own joy as she drained the blood from a child to feed the demon within her.  Their laughter as her sire and grandsire watched her endure the pain of having her soul returned.  All of it came back to her.

“Aww, what’s wrong Slayer?” came the cold voice that had once belonged to her best friend.  “Memories a little too much for you?  I wouldn’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.  One last sunrise, for old time’s sake.”

As the sun cleared the horizon, Buffy screamed one last time.

* * * * *

Willow smiled and pulled her sire closer as she watched the first rays of the sun hit Buffy’s body.  The screams that followed were pure bliss.  From inside the safety of their crypt, they watched as the Slayer turned vampire started to smolder, then abruptly burst into flames before finally turning to dust.  It was a deeply satisfying feeling, more so even than drinking her blood had been.

“So, luv,” her sire asked softly as they turned to back toward the entrance to the lower chamber.  “Off to Hell-A after the sun sets?”

“Definitely,” she responded with a wicked grin.  “We need to rid Angel of that pesky soul of his, and I want to pay a visit to Cordelia.  Maybe she’ll last longer than Xander did.”  She purred in anticipation of playing with the former May queen.

Spike grinned evilly as Willow dropped down the hole into the under-crypt.  He looked back toward Buffy’s dust before whispering, “Look out LA, the Big Bad and his Wicked Witch are coming.”  He stepped into the opening with a laugh.  An eternity with his childe wouldn’t be nearly long enough.

The End

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