Chapter 1

The redheaded girl looked up from the monitor she was using in the computer lab at UC Sunnydale and smiled as her best friend entered the room. She watched the girl scan the space, and saw her face light up when she finally caught sight of the familiar blaze of crimson. The redhead giggled slightly to herself as she gathered her things and went to join her friend. She grinned widely as they sauntered out into the night, listening to the other girl's story about what had happened the prior evening with the fungus demon she'd gone out hunting for. Even as she laughed, however, the thought kept running through her head that, had anyone told her, ten years earlier, that she would one day be best friends with a *vampire*, she probably would have told them to seek some *serious* therapy.

"Mom!" the twelve year old Willow Rosenberg called out as she *finally* got home, "Sorry I'm late, but Mrs. Henshaw wanted me to..." She felt herself losing the ability to speak as she stopped, still as a statue, in the kitchen door. There was a *man* in the house... and it wasn't her father! Not that she'd never seen a strange man in the house before... after all, her mother had many colleagues who stopped by unannounced, but this *wasn't* a colleague, and he was... kissing?... her mother's *neck*! Plus, there was something wrong with his face, and her mother seemed to be in *pain*, if the tears on her face and her agonized whimpers were any indication. "Mom?" Willow barely managed to whisper, her entire body beginning to shake. She'd heard the stories, spoken in hushed voices by the adults of Sunnydale when they thought that there were no children around to listen, and she *knew*, suddenly, exactly what the strange 'man' was... *vampire*. She almost fainted as the vamp lifted his head from her mother's neck, his amber eyes meeting hers with amusement. After a moment, he returned to his snack, apparently expecting the tender little morsel to stand by and wait her turn. Of course, *that* wasn't going to happen, Willow promised herself as she finally took herself in hand and bolted back down the hallway and out the front door.

She ran as though the fiends of Hell were on her trail... which, she supposed, in a way, they were... she ran down the block and around the corner, feeling the blood pounding in her head, her breath coming shorter each moment... she ran, and ran, until *finally* she reached her destination... the home of her best friend *ever*... the very silly, but always trustworthy, and *christian*, Xander Harris.

Fortunately for all concerned, Mr. and Mrs. Harris were passed out in a drunken stupor, and were therefore unable to invite anyone in a few minutes later when the pounding began at the front door. Willow huddled upstairs under a blanket with her friend as she told him about what she had found when she had gotten home that night... they stayed awake, clutching each other tightly, until the first colours of dawn began to shade the sky, and the pounding suddenly stopped.

Willow found herself smiling somewhat wistfully as she remembered that night... the first time that she had realized that there actually *were* things that went bump in the night... and that the 'bump'-ing sounds they made were probably just them dropping the bodies of their latest victims. That night had been the beginning of the end for her innocence... she had returned home the following morning, armed with the crucifix from Xander's parents' bedroom, to find... nothing. There were a few small drops of blood on the kitchen floor, but there was no sign of Sheila Rosenberg at all. It had taken her a few hours to track her father down at whatever conference he'd been speaking at, and then a few *days* before he had really believed that his wife was gone, but he had finally returned home and begun to build a life with his daughter... a new life... he was amazed to find that she was even smarter than he had hoped, and vowed to himself that he would be a more attentive parent than he had ever been in the past. That resolve was put to the test just a week and a half later, when he was forced to watch that same sweet young redhead force the stake between the ribs of the creature who had once been her mother... and *his* wife. He was initially shocked that his little girl, his sweet, precious Willow, had done such a thing... but realized, as he saw the tears pouring from her emerald eyes, that sadly, her childhood was over. She wasn't a woman quite yet, but she was well on her way, and when she *was*... she would be strong, and proud, and entirely sure of herself and her abilities. He had put his arms around her and held her tightly, promising himself that he would do everything in his power to see that she grew into the kind of woman he knew she could be.

Willow sighed, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth as she walked with her friend towards Giles' shop. She didn't really *want* to go to this 'research party', but if she didn't, the Slayer would probably try to use the computer again, and the last time *that* had happened, it had taken almost a full *week* to re-load all her programs... not that the Slayer was *stupid*... she just had a frighteningly erroneous belief in her own ability. Sure, the blonde girl was hell on wheels when it came to staking vampires, but technology was just *not* her forte.

"Willow," her friend said softly, "What's wrong? Are you thinking about your Da again?"

The redhead put on a somewhat strained smile for her friend's benefit. "No, not really... Well, OK, I *was*... I still miss him, you know... But, no, I was actually thinking that if we don't hurry up, *Buffy* might try being net-girl again." Her smile became less forced as she heard her friend's delighted laughter. "Oh, sure, it's funny to *you*! You didn't have to straighten the mess out the *last* time! And I *swear*, I *still* don't know how she managed to do half of what she did to my programs!" She sighed dramatically, holding back a strong impulse to giggle. "That girl's a *menace*... so what if she's the longest lived Slayer in recorded history? If she screws up my system again, I *may* have to stake her, myself..." She felt her grin growing wider as her friend stopped half a block from Giles' combination coffee house/ pool hall/ magic shop, and watched the girl reach into her bag, pulling out the one object that she *always* brought to meetings... at least when the Slayer was likely to be there. "You know... she hates it when you talk to that damned doll, Dru..."

Drusilla smiled, slowly putting a dazed and wild expression on her face. "Well, you know, and I know, that the chip in my head made me sane again... hell, Will, even *Giles* knows... but that doesn't mean we have to tell the *Slayer*, does it? Besides, I'd *miss* Miss Edith... she was my only friend for almost two centuries... Until I got chipped and met you five years ago, anyway... Now, hush, sweet... it's *showtime*!"

Willow rolled her eyes and wiped the smile from her face as they reached the door to the shop. Drusilla *was*, after all, her best friend, and if she got her jollies by tweaking the Slayer's 'delicate' sensibilities, well, then Willow would go along with it... she *so* liked seeing her friend happy.

Chapter 2

Willow tilted her head towards the monitor in the back room of Giles' shop, not wanting the Slayer to see the smirk on her face. She barely held back a giggle as her friend Dru began yet another rambling monologue, this time involving the stars singing to her in Miss Edith's voice... songs of murder, and mayhem, and... pastry crème??? The redhead never failed to find the Slayer's reactions to Drusilla amusing... She turned the main part of her attention back to the web site she was perusing. It was, of course, a site of prophecies, and its owner, one Brother Ignatius, was constantly updating and adding to the information there, and he even had his own rating system which he used to indicate the likelyhood of the different prophecies being real. Willow had stumbled across the site by accident one day, three years earlier, and had discovered, surprisingly enough, that the monk's information was usually *very* accurate... the site had quickly become one of the most useful tools they had on the Hellmouth, helping their little group to stop at *least* six 'world-ending' events. And that was why, when she saw the latest posting, and the *eight* pound signs beside it, Willow became suddenly serious.

"Dru!" she almost barked as she turned to face the others in the room, "Enough. There's a new prophecy on the Brother's site. And it's *not* good." She stood, walking over to sit by her friend. "There'll be time to play *later*, Chica," she said as she took the doll from her friend's suddenly limp hands, "But right *now*..." She turned her head, eyes passing over the others assembled there, "Right now, we have to figure out what we're going to do about it." Plucking the note pad and pen from the table in front of her, she began to make some notes to herself as she explained. "According to Brother Iggy's sources, there's a new Master about to rise... and I know what you're thinking, Buffy. Yes, *again*! Apparently there's something of a void in the vampire community when they don't have a Master, and somehow, Hell keeps trying to fill it. In any case, this new Master is going to be *much* worse than anything we've ever seen, but I'm pretty sure that we can stop him from rising... we *have* to. If he rises, we're dead... *all* of us. Humans, I mean. The *big* problem, though, is that Iggy doesn't know *where* it's going to happen, but from the sounds of it, it's not going to be *here*. So," she finished, looking up at the group, "Any ideas?"

Rupert Giles stared at the girl, hoping desperately that she had misinterpreted the information on the computer. Unfortunately, he admitted to himself as he quickly scanned the screen, she hadn't. It was exactly as Willow had said. A Master was rising, and they'd all be toast if they didn't stop him. He sighed wearily, turning his eyes to the Slayer as she began to talk.

"Um... so how do we find *out*, Willow? I mean, you and Giles are the brains of this operation... I don't know what *I* can do... plus, me and Masters? *Not* of the good! I couldn't even kill the *first* one! I'd be dead right now if you and Dru hadn't shown up to save me!" Buffy shuddered, thinking back to that night. The redhead and the wacky vamp had come across her lifeless form in the caverns below the city right after they'd staked that *ugly* vampire, and if it hadn't been for Willow knowing CPR... but she didn't want to think about that now. "And how soon is this supposed to happen, anyway? I mean, do we have *any* time to prepare, or is it a 'we'll be dead by this time tomorrow' kind of thing?"

Willow rolled her eyes at Drusilla before answering the girl. "Gee, Buffy, it wouldn't be much of a prophecy if it didn't allow us *some* time, now would it?" She sighed, standing and returning to the computer. "According to *this*, we have a few months before anything's *really* going to happen... but that doesn't mean that we can take our sweet time about it. I want this thing researched to the hilt, and we need to have a plan of action ready *long* before things come to a head!" She frowned, reading the words on the screen again. "OK. Buffy, I want you to go out patrolling. See what you can find out from any vamps you come across. They probably won't know anything, but at least *ask* them before you stake them, OK? Cordy, I need you to stay here and help Giles with the research... also, see if you can get a message to Brother Iggy. Use the usual channels. We need to know if there's anything he didn't post on this one. Giles, see if you can find *any* reference to this in your books. Um... try Prudhomme's 'Fire' text... I'm not *sure*, but I seem to recall seeing *something* in there about Masters..." She stood, motioning for her best friend to join her. "Dru and I are going to find Oz, see if his pack can ferret out any information from the more benevolent demons in town. After that, we'll be at my place. I've got a spell I want to try out. If it works, we just might get some of the answers we're looking for. And *yes* Dad," she said, rolling her eyes at Giles, "I'll be *careful*." She left the back room and exited the shop, Drusilla following closely behind.

Giles stared after the girls for a moment before turning his attention back to Buffy and Cordelia. "Well?" he said, impatiently, "You heard her. Let's get to work!" He sighed as the Slayer finally left, and Cordelia jumped up to begin a rousing game of phone tag. It was very difficult to reach Brother Ignatius, and it was only due to Willow that they could reach him at all... no one *else* had that privilege, at least not according to the Watcher's Council. Thankfully, the girl had let him take the credit for it, at a time when his position with the Council was none too stable. Now, Rupert Giles was respected by the same people who had disapproved of his methods... he only hoped that they never found out just who was *really* in charge of the Slayer in Sunnydale...

The two girls walked silently for almost three blocks before Willow suddenly stopped. "All right, Dru," she said softly, "What do you know?"

Drusilla sighed loudly. She should have known that she couldn't fool the redhead...

"I have an idea, but... can we talk about this at home? Please?" She glanced around them quickly, knowing there were other vampires in the area. She wasn't worried that they'd attack, but... "The night has ears, Will... Please?" She smiled slightly as her friend nodded her understanding.

"Fine, Dru... just as long as we *do* talk about it." Willow returned the dark haired girl's smile as they began walking again. It was only a few more blocks to the house... she'd get her answers soon enough.

Spike smirked as he whacked his Sire on the back of the head and continued across the living room clad only in a towel. "Stop with the brooding already, Angel. It doesn't do any good, and frankly, it's *boring*." Sitting down in his favourite chair, he reached for his cigarettes and lit one up. "So," he said, pulling in a large lungful of smoke, "What's the plan? Murder, mayhem, what?" He sighed, running a hand through his bleached blond locks when the other man just *looked* at him. "Can't blame a guy for trying, can you? Besides, you killed that guy last week, didn't you? Why do *you* get to have all the fun?"

"Spike." Angel said warningly, "It wasn't *fun*. He was a murderer and a rapist. He *needed* to die. And you know I didn't drink him dry... I just broke his neck after having a little... *snack*. But fine!" he said, amusement warring with anger at the look on his childe's face, "Next time, *you* can kill the bad guy, OK? Will *that* make you happy?"

The blond smiled more broadly as he stood and started towards the stairs. "Not really, Peaches... but it's a start." He headed up the stairs to his bedroom, not caring that his Sire could hear his muttered comments. "Bloody poof... had to get a soul, won't let me kill, won't even let me *feed* on anyone unless they're *bad*... And who gets to define *bad*? Not *me*, that's for bloody certain..."

Angel smiled to himself, listening to his childe's voice growing softer as he got further away. As much as Spike drove him crazy sometimes, he wouldn't trade him for anything else in the world. He was just glad that the boy had finally been able to forgive him for abandoning him. He sighed. It hadn't been right to just leave him and Dru that way, but he'd just been cursed, and he'd hated himself so *much*, it hadn't even occurred to him that his childer would still want him around... so he had just left. No goodbyes, no 'see you later's, *nothing*. It hadn't only been recently that Spike told him that he and Dru had finally decided that their Sire was tired of them... that he'd left so that he could make some childer who'd be less of a disappointment to him. The dark haired vampire shook his head sadly. At least Spike understood now, and had found it within himself to forgive. Of course, things were different now... Angel had a soul, and Spike was no longer the boy he'd been. Angel smiled as he thought about the changes time had wrought within his childe. They were damned close to being equals now, and that made it so much easier for them to be friends. He looked up again as the blond came back down the stairs, fully clothed this time. "What did you mean, Spike? When you said 'It's a start'?" He could see the gears turning in his favourite childe's head as he tried to figure out what his 'bloody ponce of a Sire' was talking about.

Spike finally remembered what he'd said before going to get dressed, and considered making something up, but... "I meant that... I'm tired of this town. I've seen everything there is to see here, done everything there is to do... I'm *bored*, Sire! I need a change of scenery or something."

"You're not happy here?" Angel said, frowning slightly. "Is it... is it the town... or the company, Spike?"

"The town, you bloody poof! Hell, if it was *you*, I'd just come out and *say* so, wouldn't I?"

The darker vamp laughed, knowing that *that* was true. "Well, how long have you felt that way? Because, I *hate* Paris. I only stayed because I thought you were having fun!"

Spike looked at his Sire, disbelief showing plainly on his face. "So what you're telling me is... we could have been out of here long ago." He smiled, watching Angel laugh. "So, how soon can we leave... and where to next? I'd kind of like to go back to the states, myself... You know, hit New York... you could show me that alley where you used to feed on *rats*!" He flung himself down into his chair, laughing aloud at the slightly scandalized expression on Angel's face. "Well?" he demanded, suddenly in a hurry to escape the city.

Angel laughed again, this time at his childe's obvious impatience. "Well, the house is a rental, so I just need to tell the landlord we're leaving. Other than that, we can leave as soon as we're packed. But, Spike!" he called out, the words halting the blond's mad rush for the stairs, "We will *not* be going to New York, and you will *not* bring up that 'rat' thing again! I *am* still your Sire, boy! Show some respect!"

Spike grinned, rolling his eyes at the dark haired vampire. "Yeah... sure, Peaches... respect... whatever. Can I go pack now?" He took off like a shot at the amused nod from his Sire.

Angel smiled, listening to the sounds of his childe 'packing'. Apparently, Spike thought the word meant shoving all his things into plastic bags. But then again, he realized, as he stood and made his way to the phone, that just showed how anxious Spike was to get away from this place.

Chapter 3

Willow settled back on the couch in her living room and listened to the sounds of her friend making tea. Fortunately, they had run into Oz, the leader of the local werewolf pack, on their way home, and he had readily agreed to set his people to information gathering. The redhead smiled, remembering the two dates she'd had with the rather colorful guitarist when they were both still in high school. She had thought, for a time, that there might have been something more there, but really, it had all worked out for the best. What with Oz' cousin Geordy biting his babysitters, a few neighbors, and even the mailman, there were now quite a few weres in Sunnydale, and she had heard that Oz had... 'arrangements' with a good number of them. It was a good thing that the young boy had outgrown his 'biting' phase, though... and an even *better* thing that Oz had turned out to be ruthless enough to rule his pack with an iron fist... there were only rarely attacks by 'wild dogs' in Sunnydale these days, and as Oz had proven himself to be more than willing to tear out the offenders' throats, they were becoming rarer still. Besides, Willow reminded herself, if she *had* gotten serious with Oz, she probably would never have dated Percy... and *he'd* been absolutely wonderful... a bit *dim*, but wonderful none the less!

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the kettle whistling in the other room, and sighed. Drusilla wasn't going to make this easy, it seemed. "All right, Dru," the redhead called, looking to the kitchen door, "Enough with the pussy-footing around! Get your undead ass out here and tell me what you know!" She giggled at her friend's shame-faced expression as the girl finally emerged from the kitchen carrying two mugs of raspberry tea and crossed to the redhead, handing her one of the mugs before sitting down beside her. Willow stared at the girl, all patience gone. "*Well*?"

Drusilla sighed and slowly took a large sip from her mug. "All right, Will. It's not... that is to say, I don't... well, I don't actually *know* anything..."

"But?" asked the redhead sharply, her green eyes boring into her friend's brown ones.

Dru sighed again. She really didn't want to tell Willow this, but... "But I may know where you can get some answers." She turned away from her friend and sipped her tea, suddenly wishing for something a good bit *stronger*. "You know that my people... vampires, I mean, are much more social than most *other* kinds of demons, but what you *don't* know is just *how* social we are, as a group... We *love* the company of our own kind, it gives us pleasure... And..." She turned back to her friend, meeting her eyes. "Willow," she said softly, "What I am about to tell you goes no further than this room, do you understand? That means you can't tell the Slayer, or Giles, or even Cordelia, all right?" She smiled with relief at her friend's confused but serious nod of agreement, knowing that once the redhead gave her word, she'd never break it. "The thing is, Will... for centuries now, my kind have arranged... meetings?... No, not quite meetings... more like... parties? Well, whatever. It happens every ten years, always in the third year of each decade... I'm not sure *why* that is, but I *think* it has something to do with the number three... In any case, it's in a different city each time, and the party goes on for days... almost a week. We meet at a hotel, socialize, discuss the things that are happening in our community, that sort of thing..."

The redhead nodded happily. "So, it's kind of like a convention?"

Drusilla laughed delightedly. The girl never ceased to amaze her! "Yes! A convention! *Exactly*!"

Willow thought about it for a moment. "OK, so I can see how that might be a good place to get information, but... Wouldn't it be too dangerous for you to go? I mean, with the chip and all..."

Drusilla nodded decisively. "Yes. It would. But I'm not talking about *me* going... I'm talking about...*you*! Wait!" she said loudly, seeing her friend about to interrupt her, "Just listen to me for a minute, Will." She waited for the girl's nod before continuing. "I know you're not a vampire. You don't *have* to be! Not if you're there as a representative for one. I'm thinking that I could mark you as mine. You'd be completely safe, I swear! And, there *will* be other humans there, you know... it's part of the appeal for us. The... convention... has only two rules. No fighting and no killing for the duration. The 'host', that being the Master of whichever city it's being held in, arranges for a certain number of humans to be there as... donors, if you will, and there certainly wouldn't be many volunteers if they were going to be killed, now would there? It sort of... takes the pressure off. The vampires don't have to worry about hunting or anything... they can just relax... have *fun*... And the *humans* get to experience the thrill of... playing with fire, I suppose."

Willow sat back, a thoughtful look on her face. "So I'd be *safe*... what about that whole 'marking me' thing, though? I mean, if it's so safe, then why is *that* necessary?"

Drusilla sighed again. "It's necessary because you want information. Unless you're there representing somebody, none of the vampires are going to tell you anything important. Look at it this way, are you more likely to send an important message with someone who's six, or sixty?" She smiled as the redhead nodded, accepting the logic. "That's basically what marking you will indicate. That someone, in this case, me, trusts you enough to act on their behalf."

"OK, Dru," Willow finally said, seeing the necessity, "But... you're not going to be... *mad* at me for going, are you? I mean, since you can't?"

The dark haired girl smiled sadly at her best friend. "No, Will. I haven't been to one of these gatherings since before Angelus left me and Spike. It was just too painful," she said, explaining, "We didn't want to go there and see him with his *new* childer... Not that he would have cared, but *we* did. Besides, Spike probably would have broken the rules, fighting with everyone he thought was laughing at us for being abandoned by our Sire in the first place..." She smiled more sadly still, as she thought about her blond 'brother'... Now that she was sane, she missed him... wished that she hadn't left him all those years ago. But at least she'd said goodbye, unlike their bastard of a Sire. She shook off the sad thoughts. "So?" she asked softly, "What do you think?"

Willow smiled at the girl. She had seen the sorrow, heard the longing in her voice, and knew that her friend was missing her 'brother' again... in much the same way that *she* still missed her father. The only difference was that there was a good chance that *Spike*, unlike Ira Rosenberg, was still alive... or existing, at any rate. "Well," she said, trying to sound excited, "I think I have a convention to go to!" She grinned as her friend suddenly stood and flew from the room muttering about having to make some calls...

"C'mon, Sire!" Spike shouted impatiently from the foot of the stairs, "Get your nancy-boy ass in gear!" He grinned and dodged the suitcase that flew at him from above. "That's more like it, mate! C'mon! One more time!" He dodged again and grinned at the darker vampire, who was just beginning to descend the stairway. "Cab's here, Angel," he said, hearing the horn blowing outside, "Let's *go*!" He picked up his three garbage bags full of clothing and mementos and dashed to the front door, out into the street.

Angel laughed to himself, seeing the excitement in his childe's stride. Picking up his own matched leather luggage, he followed. They were going back to the States... maybe they'd stop off at the Gathering... he'd have to ask Spike, but it could be fun, and if he wasn't mistaken it was in Seattle this year... Nice city, not too much sun... and maybe this time Dru would be there. He sighed. It had been too long since he had seen his crazed childe... he missed her, and he knew that Spike did, too.

"No, Giles," Willow said softly, but firmly, into the phone, "It's *not* something I can put off. My Aunt Ellie will only be married the one time, and if I *miss* it, well, let's just say that my 'favourite niece' status will be greatly endangered, even if I *am* her *only* niece! I mean, the woman practically raised me after my mother died. OK, so it was mostly over the phone, but *still*!" She listened to the englishman's voice on the other end of the line, rolling her eyes at Drusilla as the man went on and on. The redhead and the vampire had spent a good hour discussing what to tell the watcher to explain Willow's absence, and they had *thought* that this story would do it... they *hadn't* counted, however, on Giles being so worried about being able to run things while she was gone. "*No!*" she finally broke in, "I'm *not* forgetting about my responsibilities, and I'm *not* being immature!" She sighed, pouring as much emotion into the lie as she could. "Giles... she's my *only* family, she's only going to get married once, and since she and I are the end of the Rosenberg clan, I think that my duty to *her* outweighs your need to have me here for one *week* of the month and a half that we have to figure this whole thing out! Besides," she continued, trying to sound *very* reasonable, "You have the abilities to direct the group... if you didn't, you wouldn't have been made Buffy's watcher in the first place! And don't forget, if you *do* run into something you can't handle on your own, you have my e-mail address, *and* my cell number! It's not like you won't be able to *reach* me." She sighed again before throwing in what she *hoped* would be the deal maker. "And Dru will be here, you know... if all else fails, she'll help you out." She grinned at the panicked look in her best friend's eyes, before continuing her conversation with the watcher. "Yes... yes, I'm sure that that'll be fine... but only if you really *need* to, all right? I mean, you *know* how much Drusilla loves playing 'crazy' for the Slayer... Yes... yes, OK... No, I *have* to leave in the morning, if I don't, I'll miss, umm... the *rehearsal*! And, you know, since I'm *in* the wedding... Yes, Giles, I know it's sudden... well, what can I say? It's a well known trait of the Rosenberg clan... we're impetuous!" She glared daggers at her friend, who was making bizarre faces at her in an effort to make her laugh, "What?... Oh, oh yeah... *sure*!... Thanks, Giles... oh, and tell Cordy and Buffy that I said 'Bye', and I'll try to call them in a few days." She smiled her relief as the man *finally* accepted that she really *was* leaving for a short while. "Oh, and Giles... I'll see what I can find out from the coven in San Francisco while I'm there, OK?" Her grin became even wider at the relieved tone of his voice. "All right... I've got to go... I still have to pack, you know!" She hung up the phone and looked at her friend, giggling. "I never knew that it could be so hard to get out of Sunnydale!"

Drusilla smiled, her eyes lingering for a moment on the fresh bite-marks at the redhead's throat. She had been surprised that her head hadn't exploded, but she supposed that it was because her intent had been to *protect* the girl, not harm her. She shook the thought away, mostly because she had discovered, once she regained her sanity, that she didn't particularly *want* to hurt people, she just wanted to *feed*... and the bagged stuff fed her just *fine*... OK, it was a little bit flat and lifeless, but... she'd rather be *sane*. She turned away from the little witch, crossing the room quickly to retrieve a small box from the coffee table before returning to her friend's side. "Here," she said softly, extending the velvet covered item. She watched as the girl opened it, and smiled when she heard her gasp. "That *particular* bite has marked you as someone's personal 'servant'... the necklace shows that the one you belong to is of the order of Aureleus. You must wear it at all times when in the public areas of the hotel *and* when conversing privately with any of the attendees... Your best bet would be to put it on *now*, and keep it on until you return home." She grinned a bit more, knowing that the redhead had heard her every word even though she was still staring, enthralled, at the platinum and ruby choker. It was designed to sit directly above the bite mark... almost like a frame, or a highlight to it. "Now, Will..." Drusilla giggled and snapped her fingers in front of the stunned redhead until the girl's eyes finally focused on hers. "You were right, you know... you *do* still need to pack, and if you're representing *me* at this event, I have every intention of having some say in how you present yourself! Besides, the weather in Seattle is *very* different than it is here! Come on..." She giggled as she dragged her friend up the stairs. They had a *lot* of clothes to sort through!

End.

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