He felt like a spectre at the feast, an orphan with his face pressed up against a window watching a family laughing and playing together. He wanted to belong, yet he was always on the outside aching to be included and not able to work out how he could manage it. He wanted to blame his soul, but he realised deep down that it was a failing in his internal make up – he was flawed.

Damaged.

He'd followed them all night and now they were dancing. He felt so left out, his heart refused to accept what his head was slowly beginning to realise. He was losing her to him – to Spike. Part of him wanted to laugh and the rest of him wanted to cry, but even then Angel realised that there was nothing in him that wanted to harm his grandchilde. And he was surprised—no, stunned. If he'd been half the vampire he had been back in the day, Buffy would be either deranged, drained or turned and Spike would be a faint whispering memory, the dust under his booted feet. .

'They look perfect together,' Angel admitted internally and sighed. He thrust his hands into his duster pockets, his eyes never leaving the blond couple as they swayed and moved to a beat only the two of them could hear. Their bodies and minds in perfect unison as they twisted and whirled around and around, arms moving in deft quick moves. Angel sank to his knees, the pain in his heart doubled at the sight of Spike exchanging a brief grin with Buffy. His mouth opened in a silent scream of unrelenting anguish, unaware of his two silent observers.

"Duck, Spike." Buffy's voice called to his soul and Angel looked up from the ground. He could barely see her through the tears swimming in his eyes. She reached over and dusted the vampire that was about to slam a tombstone over Spike's head. 'They were lyrical.' He took a deep and unnecessary breath as he watched the two of them fight side by side. Their energetic moves were perfectly choreographed, they were the mirror image of each other dancing and fighting – it was all the same in his mind.

He was losing them both and it hurt more than he could express.

He was so alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Geez, Spike. Come on. We're gonna be so late for Bronzing goodness!" Buffy exclaimed as she staked her final opponent. She turned to watch Spike bob and weave as he fought the final fledge with a maniacal grin of glee on his full lips. She licked her lips automatically, wondering if he'd felt the same about that kiss. It had shocked her out of her socks, well if she'd been wearing any it would've. The kiss had been more than any other she'd ever experienced, and she wanted more, but didn't know if he did. He was so much more experienced than her and well she felt kinda teenyboppy with the squeeage over it with Willow. Buffy blinked, astounded, all the time she'd been 'lips of Spikeing' no thought of Angel had entered her mind. She felt bad. There had been a time, before Spike turning up, that Angel had been the centre of her thoughts. And well now...

Spike whirled, his duster floating out around him dramatically as he plunged his specially carved stake into his opponent's chest without any muss or fuss. He tossed it up in the air, watching the silver handle gleam in the pale moonlight before a slender tanned hand snatched it up.

"Ohh, shiney." Buffy held the intricately carved stake up and gazed at it enviously. Spike stepped back and lit a cigarette, his azure eyes never leaving her flushed face. He grinned at her wide eyed excitement and interest. He respected a woman who appreciated a nice weapon. Mentally slapping himself for the awful pun, he stuck the fag in the corner of his mouth. Squinting his eyes through the smoke, he tipped his head back and sighed melodramatically.

"I suppose you can have it." He grinned at her excited squeal, holding up a hand to stop her bouncing around the cemetery like Tigger on acid. "Only if you can find the toy surprise in it," he said and smirked at the sudden shift of concentration in her.

Buffy frowned at the stake and ran her fingers over the carved sigils and protective runes, her mind registering the beauty of the piece. "Toy surprise?" She shifted her attention to the silver handle, her finger tips rubbing over the embossed work. "Where did you gets?" she asked perkily.

"Was a pressie from the being who recruited me to come here," he sighed. Spike mentally groaned at the sight of her hand absently sliding up and down the stake, he wrapped his duster around him and surreptitiously adjusted himself. Her innocence radiated on her face, but the inadvertent lasciviousness action of her hand was going to kill him. He was desperate to grab her and press her hand against his aching cock, but managed to restrain himself. He settled for watching the tiny crease of concentration appear on her forehead and the tip of her pink tongue unconsciously popped out as she tried to find the hidden catch. 'Oh hell...'

"Oh," Buffy nodded, her attention half on the stake and the half on him. "Got it!" she squeaked excitedly and pushed the release button. "Wow, that's awesome." The thin silver blade glittered wickedly in between them.

"Nice one, right? Got the mate to it right here." He patted his coat pocket and then grunted, his unprepared arms full of warm slayer body. He quickly caught hold of her hips and twisted her slightly so that she rested against his side and not on his rock hard cock. He grimaced and wondered when he'd become such a gent.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." And it was as he cradled her firm form against his and wondered if he could dust from sexual frustration.

~~~~~~~~~~

He knew he shouldn't lurk and stare but it was all that was left for him. It had started the moment the peroxide menace had arrived. Now Spike was the centre of everything and part of him--an infinitesimal part of him—resented it. Most of the time he was proud and wished he had the pizzazz that the younger vampire had, but he'd lost it when the guilt from his centuries of kills had mired him in an unliving purgatory. One he deserved to be in; he'd raped and pillaged his way through the years without a thought for the destruction he had wrought and now he was making amends. But he couldn't work out Spike at all. He was cursed to fight for good, but never revealed why. Angel frowned. He knew it wasn't a scam to lull Buffy's defences down and then bag his third slayer as Whistler and that weird chick had vouched for him. He hadn't liked her very much. She had a harsh voice and she'd smelled funny-- all of which made his hands clammy.

Angel suppressed a growl when a bunch of teens jostled him out from under the stairs. He glanced around desperately searching for cover, but it was too late. He heard his name being called over the music filling the Bronze. Of all of them he knew it would've been Willow to spot him, she was still in that awkward teenage stage and being a good soul she was aware that he was as uncomfortable in crowds as she was. Her loyalty to Buffy made her welcome him during the few instances that they were around each other.

"Angel, over here. We didn't know if you'd come." Willow waved a hand enthusiastically and gestured to the table where the others were all crowded around.

His broad shoulders slumped and then straightened with determination. He looked around for Buffy but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. There were too many pheromones in the air for him to be able to scent her, so he made his way through the crowd to Willow and Xander. Angel schooled his face into a blank expression at the sight of the male Scooby. Xander glared at him before muttering something under his breath and then sipping from the glass in front of him.

"Hey." Angel shifted uncomfortably on his feet and looked anywhere but at the empty chair Willow had patted encouragingly.

"Soulboy," Xander grunted. His eyes flickered dismissively over Angel. He felt intimidated by the older and more experienced vamp. He also wasn't too sure about the Buffy interest-- it edged on the side of creepy stalker guy. Xander surreptitiously peeked over at the pool table where Spike and Buffy were engaged in a game. 'How come Angel isn't more like Spike?' Xander blinked and then gulped loudly. Willow frowned at his unexpected 'fish out of water' impression.

"Xander? You okay?" She reached over and stroked him on the back of the hand, concern marring her smooth forehead with faint lines and her pale green eyes ever-filled with warmth and affection.

Xander shook him head, his mouth firming as he tried to stop himself form shrieking at the top of his lungs. "Fine, just thinking with the big thoughts and kinda surprised myself with something." There was no way he was saying anything. Spike was an okay guy for a member of the undead club, and big bonus points that he hated Angel as much, if not more that himself . They had bonded over their jibes at the brooding hulk and Xander was still trying to assimilate Spike = friend into his book, to his surprise it wasn't taking that long. What was weird was that it wasn't too hard to do so. Xander looked at the hunched uncomfortable form of Angel and wondered why he wasn't more up to date with the pop culture references and music like Spike was. He figured that was one big negative on the scales of fitting with the gang, not knowing what the hell they were talking about. 'Does he live under a rock? Hasn't he ever cracked open a comic book or turned on a tv?'

"Where's Buffy?" Angel ground out the question past his gritted teeth. The noise from the band was starting to give him a headache and all the people thronging around him were driving him to distraction. The scents of sweat, blood, arousal and teen hormones were making his fangs itch and his bumpies throb under the skin. He deliberately stopped breathing and mentally took a break to try and calm himself.

Xander twitched in surprise. The lummox who usually pretended he didn't exist had spoken to him. The imp in him was unable to resist. "Over there with Spike." He pointed over Angel's shoulder in the direction of the pool table, completely ignoring Willow's hissed 'don't' and firm kick in the ankle.

Angel rotated slowly in his seat, ready for the sight of the two of them together. He'd been ready since following them on patrol, and there they were. He watched impassively as Buffy leant over the table, cue stick in hand, and flipped her hair over one shoulder as she turned her head to exchange a comment with Spike. The peroxided boil on his butt was leaning against a pillar, a bottle of beer held loosely in his fingers as his other hand twirled the cue absently. He laughed at whatever Buffy said before she sunk the ball she was aiming at in the right corner pocket. Angel schooled his expression into a neutral one. For a split second in his mind's eye he had seen himself leap across the dance floor, tear off Spike's head and then lay Buffy out on the pool table and ravish her.

But he didn't do it. It was wrong.

"Oh," was all he managed before swivelling back round to face Willow's compassionate face and Xander's smirking one. A smirk that was so suspiciously familiar that Angel frowned. 'Wonder if he's been taking lessons from Spike?'

~~~~~~~~~

Spike had noticed the moment the ponce had come into the club. The familial ties were something he couldn't block out with Peaches, but he could choose to ignore him, so he did. It'd been a long night; the patrolling had been a barrel of laughs. A good brawl before a pint had always been the best way to start the night and with the Slayer, the fighting was guaranteed to be of the highest calibre.

He stared at her soft lips as she unconsciously pouted while lining up her shot. Her lips, they were pure temptation. He couldn't shake off the feeling of their kiss. The softness of her skin, the plump fullness of her mouth as it submitted to his, the tentative way her tongue had peeped out and tangled with his. 'Fuck, now I've got a hard on – again.' He surreptitiously adjusted his duster over his crotch and tried to will away the erection that was pressing against his zipper. He could sense she was an innocent, and the last thing he wanted to present for her pretty eyes to see was a monumental tenting effect in his jeans.

Spike cocked his head as he felt something come through the familial links that Angel was constantly trying to strengthen. He knew that the older vamp was lonely and depressed. That had pretty much been a given the moment the gyppos had shoved a soul up his arse, but now it seemed more desperate. There was a keen edge to it that had not been there a few days ago. Spike frowned. He looked over at Angel and was presented with the sight of his anguished appearance for a brief moment before he schooled his features into a blank expression and turned away from them.

"So the bet is, I get to stake the next three vamps if I sink this one?" Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder and stuck her lower lip out in a cute pout.

Spike smiled and nodded, "Yeah, and no interfering from the Big Bad, scouts honour."

"As if you were a boy scout," she laughed and turned back to focus on her round shiny target.

"Ate a Scout Master once, does that count?"

Buffy wrinkled her nose and took the shot. She turned to face him without watching to see where the ball ended up, and knowing it would make its merry way into the pocket. "That is tooooo much information. I don't wanna hear about the bad old days!"

"Better than me pretending it never happened." Spike sauntered past her with a smirk as he watched the ball disappear into the netting. "Bollocks." He shook his head. "Should know better than to bet with you when if comes to staking vamps or killing demons and especially pool."

"Healthy competitiveness is something that cannot be denied, or so Giles says." Buffy giggled. She looked over at the table to wave at Willow and spotted Angel. Her happy smile faded away as worry and guilt rushed through her.

"He arrived a few minutes ago," Spike commented without looking over at her. He instinctively knew what she was thinking and was surprised with himself for not questioning it. He was starting to accept that his unlife was taking a different path than he'd planned and rather than fight it or brood over it, he'd decided to take it as it came and enjoy himself. Not that it was too hard with the pretty little chit that was currently playing pool with him.

"Maybe I should go say hi?" Buffy didn't want to but she realised that it would hurt Angel immensely if she didn't.

"Do what you think is right, luv. I'll be right here waiting for you." Spike lined up a shot and sank the ball without turning a peroxided hair.

Strangely, knowing he was there waiting for her gave Buffy the confidence to go to Angel. Ever since the kiss she'd felt guilty and avoided Angel as much as she could. This had been easy enough as he was still all with the cryptic warnings and fading away. If Spike hadn't turned up, she figured that it would've probably made her more interested in Angel. She had always been a sucker for the cute guys all with the broodiness, but something in Spike had called to her and whatever it was, she wanted to examine it more. Buffy realised that maybe Angel was too enigmatic for her. The romance of his aloof behaviour had been exciting at first, but now she didn't know. Spike was just more electrifying. His weirdness at the beginning long gone; now he was all with the fighty help and also was a whole lot more fun to hang out and patrol with. Not to mention that kiss. The kiss had been amazing, so much more than she'd ever experienced and Joyce hadn't raised a fool. Buffy wanted to see what more could come of it.

"Hi, Buffy."

Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd managed to walk over without realising it and was now staring blankly at Angel. It was only his soft greeting that had pulled her from her Spike-shaped thoughts. "Hey." She gave him a small wave. "What's up? Something demony around I need to kill?"

Angel frowned and then let out a big sigh. "No." He looked at her and realisation dawned; his actions in the past, only appearing to warn her when something evil was brewing, had helped push her into Spike's arms. 'Spike always was more fun to hang out with – even back in the day', Angel thought sadly. Gone were the days when he was a drinker and a brawler. Darla's fangs had birthed the darkness within him into full bloom and all he'd wanted to do was main and kill; there had been no room for fun and parties. Then the soul had seen an end to that and he sure as hell didn't feel like clubbing after the curse. He realised in that moment that he'd been to enigmatic for his own good, his fear of being around mortals with their tempting pulses had created the situation he was in now. Alone, sad and depressed, and without Buffy by the looks of it. "No, I just thought I would come out and say hi...so, um.,,hi?" He gave her a small smile.

Buffy had watched Angel closely from the moment he'd spoken; she could see the hurt in his eyes but didn't know what had put it there. She wished she could do something to make him a bit happier, but had no idea what to do. All their interaction so far was, 'ohhh, be careful. There is thing called The Harvest on or there's a vamp with a big fork instead of a hand after you'. They'd never really hung out and she had no idea what he was really like, except for the cute leather jacket he'd lent her, Buffy frowned wondering what she'd done with it.

"Hi." She gave him a teeny smile and waved again.

"So everyone's said hi. That's good. Buffster, how 'bout getting Blondie over there to come over and we can...oh crap." Xander glared over at the girl who had appeared by Angel's side. "Cordy, what do you want?" He frowned at the immaculately coiffed brunette who was giving Angel an assessing look.

Spike stared over at the tall, dark and foreheaded one and the tableau of potential drama that was unfolding at their table. Xander and Willow were both glaring at the brown-haired bint who'd insulted him the first night he'd gotten here. Angel was staring at Buffy as if she were a final meal, which made Spike's hackles twitch, and then there was his Slayer. She stood there awkwardly looking from her friends to Angel to the snot who was for some reason ogling Peaches as if he were the latest stud from a teen flick from the John Hughs oeuvre. A scarred brow quivered momentarily and then curved upwards to almost meet his hairline. Now there was potentially the answer to his Angel-shaped problems. A pretty chit, with a yen for some undead booty--not that she knew that yet. A veritable luscious big-breasted distraction, which may give them all a break from the doom-laden broodmeister. Maybe if he had a new girl to interest him then possibly Angel would not be so lonely and clingy. He had to play this one right and re-direct the Poof's attention onto the bint.

"Well...well...well, what do we have here?" Spike sauntered over and eyed Cordelia's immaculately clad form with a suggestive leer. "Aren't you a juicy lil'morsel?"

"Spike!" Buffy's eyes widened at the sight of the vampire she considered her property making with the flirtage with Spordelia.

"Trust me, pet," he murmured as he leant past her to slap a choking Xander on the back. His voice was whisper soft, pitched so low that only she could hear what he said.

"Eww, it's you. Nicotine boy with the bad dye job. Ever heard of a stylist, you Billywannabe?" Cordelia turned her nose up at Spike and batted her lashes at the hunk of salty goodness, who was rapidly losing cool points for sitting with Willow and geek boy. She so needed to rescue him from social suicide, his only redeeming points being that he knew Buffy. She eyed the blonde girl who she had been so sure would've been an excellent addition to the Cordettes. She had a veneer of LA cool still, but it was tempered with the Smokey the Blond bandit and nerd hanging out. But if she knew the big cutiepie, then maybe she was redeemable.

"Charming girl." Spike gritted his teeth and managed to refrain from ripping her viperous tongue out of her mouth and strangling her with it.

"Ain't she just? Willow and I just love her to bits," Xander whispered.

"Hmmm," was all Willow added to the Cordelia commenting.

"So who are you? And what are you doing over here with the nerd club?" Cordelia curled a hand around Angel's forearm and batted her lashes at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Um, well I better get in. Mom will be wondering where I got to." Buffy shifted from one foot to the other nervously. She wondered if Spike would try to kiss her, she was kinda hoping yes.

Spike rubbed the back of his head with one hand and looked sheepishly up at her. He kicked at the ground with one foot as Buffy stepped up onto the porch and reached for the door knob.

"I had a good time, with the Slayage, Bronzing goodness and the poolage. The mating rituals of Cordy were a bit funky to watch, but hey, it was all of the good, right?"

"You're cute when you ramble," Spike teased. His eyes lit up with humour and, unable to resist the cuteness that was Buffy, he leapt up onto the porch and wrapped her in his arms and gave her a sound kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

She was so warm and pliable. Her limbs were covered with a slick sheen of dampness as he ran his broad hands over her soft lush form, his fingers deftly seeking out spots that made her squirm and giggle. He felt content, at peace and wanted.

His mouth followed suit, tasting all of her. From her smiling mouth to her tight nipples and the lush curves of her hips. The sweet nest of curls covering her swollen and soaked femininity was saturated with her excitement, and laved his tongue hungrily through them. Her fingers knotted in his hair as she undulated her hips and let her juice slicked thighs drop open to accommodate his shoulders.

"Lick me there, please...oh good, yes!" she screamed happily as his tongue lapped at her swollen nether lips. His fingers pulling them apart to reveal her hidden treasure and he watched fascinated as her opening flexed open slightly and then tightened closed. He could see her blood engorged clit pushing out from under its hood, begging for some attention. He pressed a soft kiss to the petal soft skin and ran his tongue gently along the sides, outlining the area he wanted to be buried in.

God, it had been so long since he'd touched anyone so intimately. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating him, slowly he let his tongue curve out and dip into her wet cleft. He moaned at the taste of her as he trailed his tongue up to her nubbin and tapped it gently. He winced slightly at her sharp nails digging into his scalp as she shouted out her delight; he took a breath and suckled her clit into his mouth.

"More, I need more, use your fingers in me, oh god, please," she chanted. Her heels drummed an unsteady tattoo on his back as he devoured her. Fingers thrust into her wetness as his mouth was busy on her red clit, teeth worrying it gently as he pulled her higher and higher into bliss. She curved
her back, pushing her swollen breasts upwards, one hand leaving his hair to trail up her flexing belly and tweak at her nipples, pulling them and twisting them as her arousal grew.

"Oh my gooooood, you're soooo good!" she screamed as her body tensed and then relaxed as her orgasm washed over her. "Hmmm, your tongue should be bronzed. Are you ready for me, sweetie pie?"

With that he was pushed onto his back and his lover slithered down his body, her long hair tickling his belly as she reached her destination. "Ohhh, hello, is that all for me? Yum!" She ran her tongue up the length of him and pressed a kiss on the crown of his cock.

Without any preamble, she took his aching cock into her mouth and sucked hard on the tip. Her hands rubbed the inside of his thighs and then reached down to cradle his balls, one finger sliding behind and tickling at his perineum, causing his hips to rock upwards. His cock thrusting down her throat, she took a breath and happily devoured him. One thing she knew she was good at was this and now that she had him in her bed there was no way that he was getting away without her giving him a blowjob that would rock his world and blow his mind.

"Oh Christ." He turned his head and groaned, a deep full bodied groan that came from the depths of his body. His hands cradled her bobbing head, his thick fingers threading through her long tresses, steadying her. His eyes were riveted to her full pouting lips as she slurped her way up and down his erection, determined to devour him whole.

He was in heaven.

 

She was bone tired.

The night had been a revelation to her. She was tired and achy, but in a good way. A pleasant burn to her muscles and her thighs where they still quivered from the workout they'd gotten. All in a very, very good way--her body was humming with a suppressed excitement that she thought would have waned by now. She felt elated and satiated at the same time, something she'd never felt before with any of the other guys she'd hung out with.

"Coffee?"

She twitched slightly at the sound of his voice. Where the hell was she and what had she done? And oh my god, her mom was gonna kill her!

Buffy rolled over and promptly fell off the sofa and onto the hardwood floor with a resounding thump. "Owie." She balefully glared up at the laughing pest and rubbed her head. She was about to launch into a blistering telling off when her mouth dried up and her sleepy eyes widened in shock and appreciation. He was standing over her dressed in a pair of low slung sweats, the waist barely hanging onto his lean hips. Her mouth watered as she took in the strong muscles that were defining his oh so lickable chest and six-pack. She blinked and then checked again. He was sooo not wearing anything under them! She squeaked in surprise and scrambled backwards, her hands making contact with a softly snoring form.

"Xander?" Buffy frowned in confusion. Had she fallen into some weird ass dimension where sexy vampires wandered around half naked and her best friends were sleeping on floors oblivious to the hormone fest.

"Pet? You alright?" Spike squatted down and reached for the confused and aroused girl. He could see her skin flushing redder and redder as her pupils dilated and her arousal scented the air around her. He was relieved that her friends were sleeping on, oblivious to the tableau of cute, aroused and confused slayer.

Buffy nodded, trying to stop her eyes from following the lines of his bulge that was starting to twitch and grow slightly. She wanted to scream that it was huge and the point at it, but managed not to. 'Not cool—not cool at all, Buffy! Oh my god! Ignore the bulge and stare at his chest...noooo, dammit, that's way too lickable, stare into his eyes. Oh god, his gorgeous eyes and hey! Is he laughing at me?' Unconsciously mirroring Spike, she cocked her head and raised a sardonic brow at him.

"Come'ere, pet." Spike reached out a steady hand, smiling gently when her clammy palm slipped into his and he pulled her away from the still snoring Xander. He steered her around Willow's supine form and into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Morning beautiful. So are you going to answer me?" Spike reluctantly let her hand go, his thumb lingering for a brief caress of the sleep warmed skin. He stared unabashedly at her; she was a vision of cuteness. All sleep rumpled and flushed. He cocked his head again. 'Is she staring at my package? Cheeky little minx.'

Buffy tore her eyes away from his groin area and blushed again. "Wha?" She began to fidget under his knowing gaze. She was about to smack his smirk off his face when he broke the silence, again.

"Coffee? Tea? Or..." his eyes twinkled wickedly, "me?" his voice dropping into a deeper pitch. He couldn't resist teasing her; she'd done enough of that on the dance floor last night, writhing all over him like a cat in heat. Turn about was fair play. His lips still tingled at the memory of their first two kisses and he wanted more, something he'd have to sort fairly soon, he mentally reminded himself.

"Spike, sheesh. Chill with the sexiness and enough with the not so concealed innuendoiness," she hissed, risking a glance at the firmly shut door. "They might hear!"

"So?" Spike leant back against the counter with an unrepentant smile on his full lips.

"Well..."

"Yeah?" he teased.

"Um..."Buffy decided that obviously the new colour this year for her was beet red as she felt her face burn hot with embarrassment. "They're asleep. No need to give them an early morning wake up call that might freak them out." She figured that neither Xander nor Willow had much experience, and if they overheard Spike flirtage it may turn them gay or something from the trauma.

"Ahhh." Spike noticed that she hadn't said anything along the lines of 'ewww, no way in hell and a pox on your willy', which filled him with an irrepressible glee. She may be an innocent, and more importantly a slayer, but it seemed that he was in with a chance. As long as he was a good puppy and also waited until she was a wee bit older. As it was he felt like a pervert letching after her nubile body. His eyes glazed over at the memory of her rubbing the aforesaid body all over him again. He could still feel her leg twining around his hips as she had dirty danced with him; he was still amazed that they hadn't been chucked out of the Bronze. Or that Peaches hadn't had an embolism on the spot, come to think of it. Apart from the few minutes when he'd lurched out of the shadows and been corralled by Willow, he'd not seen the Brooding Limpet again.

"Juice please." Buffy's sweet voice pulled him away from his wondering where his shadow had gotten to and back to the present. He busied himself with putting together some grub for her.

"No probs." He'd slipped out during the night and stockpiled on food in preparation for the morning after the sleepover. Spike mentally shook his head at how his unlife had changed so radically, all due to a wish from his not so lamented sire. Spike had slowly accepted over the few short weeks since he'd arrived at the Hellmouth that Dru had not wanted him. His demon railed that the ease of her chucking away one hundred years of loyalty. Well, loyalty on his behalf. He'd smelled enough vamps and demons on her over the years to sink a battleship, but he'd loved her so much that he'd forgiven her each infidelity easily. But then there was Buffy, a tiny beam of sunlight that had entranced him with her strength and sweetness. Bugger that, the entire package was just about perfect. They fit, fit in a way that had shocked his socks off and silenced his demon, who was he to complain? Well, not anymore apparently

"Ohhh are those blueberry and white chocolate?" Buffy's eyes were latched onto the muffins he began to put into the oven to warm, she hoped she wasn't drooling. "Oh...and you got triple chocolate as well, the perfect yum." She mentally added that he was the perfect yum as well, all with the bed hair and muscles and food.

"Figured you lot'd be a bit peckish." Spike handed her a glass of chilled OJ and ducked his head in embarrassment at the look of adoration in her eyes.

She was hooked; all guilt about Angel was filtering away. Spike was shaping out to be the perfect vamp/guy. Not only did he help with the slayage and research, he also made an effort with Willow and Xander, something Angel had not really tried to do. She realised that the incipient crush she'd zealously nurtured for the other vampire was fading away in the light of his dynamic family member who'd blasted into their lives.

Spike glanced up as he straightened from the oven and couldn't resist it. He took a few long strides over to her, his lean fingers cupping her chin and tilting her head up. Leaning down he stole a soft sweet kiss, his mouth brushing over her lips several times before his tongue flickered over, asking for permission. With a soft sigh and utter disregard to morning breath, Buffy parted her lips and suckled gently on his tongue. Spike moaned in the back of his throat as a shot of arousal jolted down to his groin.

With a happy sigh he hauled her against him and devoured her mouth. Pressing biting kisses over her cheeks and down her throat before reaching her shoulders, Spike slowly licked and nibbled his way up and down. Savouring the taste of her skin, he could feel his cock twitching against her stomach and tried to arch away a bit so as not to frighten her off. Buffy grumbled against his ear and then caught his lobe in her teeth and gave it a firm suck. Her hands drifted down his back, memorising each cut muscle until her hands boldly cupped his perky ass and pulled him back against her.

~~~~~~~~~

She shifted and turned, her hand reaching out for him. But the bed was empty except for her. She frowned in confusion and sat up, clutching the sheet modestly to her breasts. Irritably she shook her shoulders at the sensation of feathers drifting down her back. It was itchy and gross; she absently scratched her shoulder, oblivious to the destruction wrought.

"Hello?"

There was nothing, only silence in the apartment.

She slid out from under the covers, her eyes searching for her clothes. They lay scattered on the floor; she could mentally trace their path into the room last night by the layout of her shirt, skirt, bra and panties. Shivering slightly at the cold, she bent over and grabbed them and dressed quickly, grimacing at the sensation of their mingled juices seeping out of her as she pulled on her black lace thong.

"So need a shower..."

~~~~~~~

"Ahhh, face washing, soooo not what a guy needs to see first thing!"

Buffy and Spike pulled reluctantly apart at the sound of Xander's voice. Spike surreptitiously slipping behind her to hide his raging erection against her soft backside. He looped his hands around her slim waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Buffy giggled and tilted her head slightly to accommodate him.

"Hey, Xander." Buffy gave him a small wave and studiously tried to ignore Spike's hardness as he pressed his hips against her.

"Morning, Buffster." He gave them a sheepish grin and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He'd sorta expected to find the two of them macking, especially after the Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey impersonations last night. He was kind of relieved that it was Spike and not Angel. There was something about that vamp that was just plain wrong. Spike instead was more his kinda guy, not that he'd ever admit that out aloud as the ego on the guy was big enough as it was. Instead, he settled on bantering with the vampire and slowly accepting that he was not going anywhere and might actually be an asset for Buffy. Anything that kept Buffy alive and happy was a big check in the plus column. Not that it meant he couldn't tease the hell out of them, Xander smirked. 'They made a cute couple, though.'

Any shades of jealousy or envy had faded away recently. He had realised that Buffy only saw him as a Xander-shaped friend and not studly material, which had bummed him for a while. There had been several sessions of country music and moping, but then Willow had gotten bored with the pity-me sessions and curtly informed him that best friends lasted longer than boyfriends. With that he'd realised that a) Willow really was clever and b) that he could live with being around for a long time being a friend and big brother to Buffy.

"Ohhh, I smell baked yumminess. Spike, dude, you coulda told me you were Martha Stewart's baby brother!"

"Oi, less of that Whelp, or I'll spit in your juice. Or better yet, every time you have a cappuccino you'll wonder just what sorta foamy goodness that is." Spike made hacking noises, "would you like an extra shot of phlegm and snot with that, sir?"

Buffy turned green. "That is so not necessary. You realise I'll never be able to drink cappuccinos again." She shuddered and wriggled away from Spike, exposing his erection in all its glory.

"Oh..." Willow stood frozen in the doorway, her face nearly purple with embarrassment at the sight of happy Spike Jr.

"Slayer! Bit of warning, luv," Spike clapped his hands over his groin and leapt behind the breakfast bar. His ears turned a faint shade of pink, "Sorry, Red." Ordinarily he'd love shocking innocents, before sucking the marrow out of their bones. But there was a childlike sweetness to the little redhead that kicked his long forgotten Victorian manners into overdrive. He was buggered and strangely not too worried, for once he was happy.

~~~~~~~
 

She was in hell.

That was all it could be.

He was laughing at her, mocking her. It was the worst thing she'd ever experienced in her entire life. She took a deep breath and tried to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. He was standing there stripped to the waist, dressed only in a pair of leather pants. His face was set in impassive lines, his eyes filled with a malicious glee and his mouth pouring venom.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Slowly, with each word, a part of her died. Leaving a hollow husk of a girl—she resembled nothing of the confident teen she was.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and stared up at him, her lips forming weak tear filled words that she hated herself for saying.

"Was it me? Did I do something wrong?"

~~~~~~~~
 

Spike looked around the table, stunned at the easy cameradie and banter that flowed around him, extending to include him as well. Gone were the days when he was a lonely poet aching for love and friendship. Gone also were the days where he was still on the outside despite being one quarter of the Scourge of Europe. All the nights yearning for Dru when she was screwing her Daddy cross-eyed or out playing with her victims, he'd never fit in. Not until now, and the irony wasn't lost on him. They should've been his enemies; the Slayer should be reaching for a stake, not the maple syrup and her friends. Well, she shouldn't have them. He had learned over the centuries that a Slayer fought alone, not with this sort of backup. The same sort of backup that he had slowly become for her and despite himself, he liked it, fighting side by side with a warrioress who matched him in wits and fists.

Chuckling briefly, he handed the elusive bottle to his fair maiden and then leant back to sip at his mug. The whole living from a baggie was something that he was still getting used to, but Angel had hooked him up with a good supply and he was slowly adjusting to the transition. "So what're your plans for the day?"

Before any of them could reply, there was a heart shattering scream. A scream of such volume that it felt like his eardrums might rupture.

"Oh my god."

"What the hell was that?"

"Buffy, what is going on?"

They all clamoured to their feet and headed out in search of the poor girl whose screams filled the entire building with their horror and agony.

"Jeez, it sounds like she's being tortured," Xander panted as he followed after Spike and Buffy down the stairs. The two supernatural blond's feet pounded down the stairs, gleaming weapons in hand and unerringly heading in the direction of the heartrending voice that had besieged their peaceful breakfast. That had resulted in the mad scramble to save her.

~~~~~~~~

She was huddled in the corridor, curled up and rocking against the dank wall. Her shaking hands ran repeatedly over her shorn head, the anguished wails emitting from her mouth never diminishing. Her brown locks were haphazardly cut, some longer than others, but in other places her scalp shone through under the harsh florescent lighting. Spike sniffed the air, the scent of sex overwhelming his senses. He recognised the male seed that was drying between the girls thighs and shuddered. He'd smelt that often enough on the She-Bitch and his insane sire. "What the bloody hell has the git done?" he whispered to himself and then glared around the narrow corridor, wondering where he'd gone.

"Hello?" Buffy cautiously approached the pitiful figure. Something about the girl was familiar. It was the clothes, and she'd seen someone wearing them last night at the Bronze. Her heart began to thump faster; Buffy glanced over at Spike and frowned. "It's..." Before she could say anymore, Xander skidded around the corner, closely followed by Willow. Both their faces were pale with concern.

Their clattering feet alerted the keening girl's attention and she looked up through tear filled eyes.

"My hair." Cordelia held out her hands, the long strands lay in her palms. "He cut off my hair."


 

It had been a hellish few weeks.

Spike shifted slightly. He sighed and resumed the even methodical strokes. The blade gleamed in the light as he sharpened the stiletto dagger to a fine point, his focus only on its sharpness. All around him was movement: stakes being whittled by the whelp, Giles and Willow arguing a point of research, the clicking of keys on a keyboard and the soft murmur of Willow's voice as she interrupted the Watcher, and finally the clatter of swords.

Spike frowned at an imagined blemish on the cold steel, holding it up to the light and examining it carefully. It had to be perfect. He'd promised her it would be the sharpest dagger ever and that was one promise he intended to keep. She maybe a bitch but he liked her—unlike the others. He cocked his head and watched the two figures sparring. Well, maybe not all of them. He could sense a friendship building between his girl and her opponent. It was an ember, but he suspected that with time it would burn brightly.

"Shift your weight onto the other foot and centre yourself." Buffy's voice was firm, brooking no debate from her opponent. "Good. That's the way, now try again, swing and twist." She grunted as she parried a blow and then spun and ducked as the sparring sword arched over her head. "That's good! Do it again."

Spike tested the balance of the dagger; it stayed level. A glittering promise of destruction and pain, it tipped gently on his index finger as he twisted his wrist a little and the stiletto seesawed slightly. So absorbed in his weapon, Spike missed the giggle from Buffy and the clatter of swords as she put them away.

"Cool! Is it ready?" A feminine hand snatched it away and flipped it into the air expertly. The finely manicured nails tapped along the blade as she examined it closely. "Looks good," Cordelia nodded and flipped the dagger into the air again.

"Oi, Miss Snatchy!" Spike's hand snapped out and captured the contested dagger out of the air. "Nearly done, just bide you time."

"Sheesh, Mr Moodypants or what." With a huff she turned and flopped down on the stairs leading to the stacks and mopped the back of her neck with a towel. She gave him a small grin, one that he returned. The two of them had what Spike suspected was a budding friendship, something he had never expected as a vampire. One quarter of the Scourge of Europe-- friends with a teenager. But it had happened. He knew where she was coming from, hell he'd experienced painfully the mental mind fucks Peaches was so good at. For that alone he had let her in; somehow he had ended up with Cordelia Chase as a friend. He liked her acerbic wit and sharp tongue.

"Princess, I told you it'd be ready when I say so. You want to have it nice and sharp if you're going to cut off the old man's balls." Spike polished the blade with a soft cloth. He chuckled at the gleam of pleasure that flittered across Cordelia's eyes. "Like that idea, Princess?"

"Spike, I told you not to encourage her." Buffy flopped down next to him on the floor and frowned at him.

Spike cocked his head and stared at the green-eyed sprite next to him. He still had moments of 'what the fuck am I doing here?' but those were outweighed by moments when he had her lips on his and all thoughts fled south for the winter. And South was getting a bit blue from all the snogging and nothing more, but he was acutely aware the chit was young and he wasn't prepared to go all Humbert Humbert on her. He could wait; well he hoped he could...

"Spike, could you give us a hand please?" Giles's voice brooked no debate. Spike mentally groaned, damming himself again for accidentally revealing he could read Latin. He'd glanced over a translation that the Watcher had been working on and had absently corrected the inaccuracies before he realised what he'd been doing. Now the old git was always calling on him for help.

"Oh, lookat that. Watcher's pet to the rescue," Buffy teased. She deftly dodged the half-hearted swipe and giggled over her shoulder at Cordelia.

The sombre brunette acknowledged the giggle but didn't respond to it. Deep brown eyes fixed on the sharp dagger Spike had been working on for her. Sleek fingers tracing the edges over and over, her obsession with weapons was rapidly exceeding Giles's and Buffy was beginning to wonder if Cordy was ever gonna come back from the trauma of Angel sex.

Buffy stared at Cordelia's bowed head; the pale skin at the nape of her neck was exposed and vulnerable looking as she bent down to re-lace her trainers. Her hair was now about an inch long all over, in some places shorter where Angelus had managed to cut close to the scalp. Cordy had spent hours in the salon getting her stylist to repair the damage and the only option had been to cut it short all over and add some highlights. Buffy had sat with her all the way through, their entwined fingers an offering of her silent comfort and support. The once over-confident and popular girl had for the first few days refused to go anywhere without Buffy; the terror of the night had scarred her for life.

Buffy shivered. 'If I hadn't met Spike, that could've been me'. Guilt filled her for thinking that, reducing Cordelia's agony into a 'thank god it's her, not me' thought. She was a bad rude girl, to misquote Spike; she rubbed her stomach as the twinges of shame tightened it into knots. Buffy looked up at Cordelia and jumped slightly at the hardness in the former Queen C's eyes.

"What's up, Buff?" Cordy asked. She was all too aware of the looks the others gave her and she was getting sick of it. The only reason she was here was to learn to fight and then she was going to kill that son of a bitch. He deserved to die slowly and screaming in pain for what he'd said and done to her that morning. The geeks that Buffy surrounded herself with were still losers in her book, but where once she'd have had fun torturing them, now she just ignored them. She knew what it was like to be a victim of a barbed tongue and somehow it wasn't right to be a bitch to them anymore. Especially Buffy, who'd been an unexpected support and offered her friendship, something that-- despite all that had happened-- Cordy appreciated.

"Nothing! Was just thinking." Buffy blushed bright red and busied her hands with putting away the swords they had been using while mentally flagellating herself for thinking she'd had a lucky escape.

"Yeah, right," Cordelia mumbled. She knew all too well what Buffy was thinking. Hell, if situations were reversed she'd be thinking the same. Inadvertently her hands shot up to her shorn head and tugged on the spikey locks, as if trying to force them to grow. She hated that he'd gone for her hair. Somehow he'd know that she had loved her hair, and by hacking it off he'd done more damage to her than anyone had ever managed. She felt like her security blanket had been ripped away from her.

Cordelia mentally shied away from the poisonous words that had dripped from his venomous tongue that morning, making her hate him even more. She blinked away the tears that welled at the horror of his words. She could hear him say that the fuck had been fun, but a pity that she'd not learned how to tighten her pussy muscles to ensure his pleasure even more, and then the look of glee on his face as he cocked his head and asked her exactly how many guys she'd opened her legs for? Adding that it was kinda lucky he was a vamp and not having to worry about STDs just compounded the chilling sickness she'd felt.

Bile rose in her throat at the memory of those silky words. She knew she wasn't a fresh faced virgin like Buffy, but she wasn't a hobag. There had only been two guys before Angel and neither of them had said anything about her being too slack down there for them to feel anything. Insecurity struck her and she wondered if there was something wrong with her body. The contemptuous twist of his lips at the sight of her breasts that morning, had nearly killed her, the way he'd suggested surgery to rectify the sagging issue had filled her with anger and embarrassment. Ever since then she'd worn the firmest bras she could lay her hands on, making sure there was no movement and tightening the straps until they dug into her flesh, leaving red welts on her skin. .

Angel had changed so much overnight; she had been so confused, waking up alone and cold. The feeling of smug satisfaction that she'd stolen Buffy's crush away from her had melted away within moments of Angel's return from the shower. Instead of some snuggles and her emerging victorious from his apartment as Queen C, he'd reduced her to a screaming mess – a victim. And for that he would suffer and die. For making her reliant on people that she'd never thought of as friends—needing their help and training, all so he would suffer and bleed. Willow and Xander were still losers, but one thing she'd learned on her climb to the top of the social tree in High School, use people to achieve your goals and then drop them once they were of no more use. So, she made nice with them so that Buffy would accept her more easily. Her parents had taught her well.

She wondered if any of them even knew what she was planning. Giles she was sure knew, but she didn't care, and Willow and Xander were clueless as ever. Spike for sure, he was too sharp, she couldn't hide anything from him and by extension she had to include Buffy in that equation. They were as thick as thieves; the irony wasn't lost on the tall brunette. There she'd been, feeling so smug that she'd scored with Buffy's guy, when all along the hunk of salty goodness had been replaced with the British cutie, and it was more than obvious he had eyes for no one but Buffy. Cordy let a rueful smile paint over her lips at the idiocy that was her. If she hadn't been set on making Buffy's life miserable, then her own wouldn't be hell-like now.

Now all she was focused on was destroying the bastard who wore Angel's face and hopefully surviving the confrontation. She knew she wasn't as strong as Buffy or Spike, but was slowly learning enough to be able to handle herself. All she could hope for was that at the end of the day she survived and he didn't.

"Look, I really don't think that will work." Giles and Spike started bickering over an obscure text and the translation. Their voices pulled Cordelia from her maudlin reflections.

"Right, I'm out of here." Without waiting to hear anything from the Scoobies, she stalked out and came face to face with, "Harmony!" Cordelia sneered at her once time minion.

"Ohhh, look, it's uberdyke. Hey, lameo, found any new shops for that 'oh so butch' look you've got... umph..."

"That felt good!" Cordelia exclaimed, shaking her hand. Her knuckles were bruised but the skin wasn't broken, not like Harmony's front teeth.

"Oh bmy god, bat hurths," Harmony wailed through the blood pouring out of her nose and mouth. Her hands shot up to cup her damaged nose and mouth, blood and chunks of her teeth gushing down the front of her knock-off Pravda dress, changing it from pink to red in seconds.

"Hey!" one of her followers squeaked at Cordelia. The self-satisfied ex-cheerleader now stood smirking at the blood and massaging her fingers. Harmony's only vocal friend stepped back at the cold look in her one time leader's eyes. "Nothing, it's okay," she hastily muttered and ran off with the other Harmettes, leaving their leader alone and still haemorrhaging all over the hallway.

"Harmony, look at me," Cordelia ordered coldly, snapping her fingers in front of the blonde bimbo's face. "That's it, good girl," she nodded approvingly. "Now listen to me very closely. From now on there will be no talking down to me or making with the snide comments, you got it?"

Harmony quailed at the anger and malice dripping off her former friend's voice. She realised too late that she'd pushed the wrong buttons and was now paying for it. All she could hope for was that her dad would fund a trip to the plastic surgeon, again. Her mouth and nose hurt too much for her to say anything so she just nodded.

"Good girl now, run along home." Cordelia imperiously waved her off and turned to leave, pausing for a brief moment to stick the proverbial knife in. "Hey, if you think about it, I've done you a huge favour, cos now your dad'll have to pay for that new nose you were always bitching about." She paused for a moment and considered the bleeding mess that was Harmony; a malicious smile curved her lips. "Have to say, anything's an improvement on what your last surgeon puked up on your face."

With that Queen C took back her title and stalked out of the High School, leaving Harmony bleeding and crying in the empty hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come, come Angelus, you really must stop brooding."

The thickset vampire looked up from the dirt floor, his eyes narrowed at the sight of his Great Grandsire. He really loathed the bat-faced old bastard. But she was here and wherever she was, then so was he. What he never could figure out was why the hell the old bastard stuck to living underground? All those centuries he'd done it voluntarily and now, Angelus giggled, now he was stuck in the Hellmouth like a leather dressed vampire shaped cork. Serve the old bugger right, forcing Darla to choose between her childe and sire all those years ago. Flaunting his traditions in their faces when all Darla wanted was a view and a good screw, neither of which the old fart could offer. No wonder she'd chosen him back then and he was banking on her choosing him again, once he'd convinced her that he was unsouled and loving it!

Hell, he knew Darla needed a guy in her bed, but this was pitiful, crawling back to her 'daddy' and dressing up in Catholic school girl outfits to get the old codger's motor revving. Thank god he'd come to his senses and was able to save her from another few centuries of 'hide the wrinkly weenie' with her sire. He kicked the sack in front of him and smirked at the whimpers that erupted from it. If this didn't get Darla back in his bed then nothing would.

"I'm not brooding!" He really hated it when people said that. He really did wonder if it was the hairstyle that made vamps and people alike think he was brooding. He made a mental note to eat a stylist or two and get them to change his look.

The Master's red eyes filled with anger and he reached out and smacked the taller vampire across the face. "I maybe stuck here but that doesn't mean you can be disrespectful. Remember your place, Childe." He glared at the upstart.

"Ohh, boys, stop fighting and play nice." Her saccharine sweet voice belied the pure evil within her; Darla skipped down the incline and slithered to halt in front of her Master and her darling boy. Her short plaid skirt twirled as she spun on her heel and sniffed the air. "Angelus, is that what I think it is?" She pointed at the now writhing sack and clapped her hands in excitement.

"Whatever it is, he won't let me eat them. You would think he would remember that I am the Master and should be the recipient of gifts, not you," the Elder Vampire muttered, ignoring the sharp angry glance Darla shot him. Angelus smirked. Score one for him, the old bastard was going to push Darla back into his bed and onto his cock at this rate.

"Only the best for you, Darla." He consciously lapsed into the thick Irish brogue of his human years, the same one that had enchanted her all those years ago. There was no harm in bringing out the big guns. He needed her to forgive him for the soul, not that it was really his fault; she was the one thing that could wipe the memory of the pathetic fumble in the dark with the cheerleader from Hell. God, he wanted to exfoliate till he bled. The pathetic gratitude that her comforting arms had evoked in his souled self had sickened him but it had achieved an end to the unloving hell of being ensouled. The silly girl had managed to cheer up Angel so much by paying attention to him and offering comfort that he'd gotten a happy and the soul was now taking a dirt nap. And for that she had to die; he was pissed off his mind games hadn't worked so far. He was getting bored with killing her family and friends. He grinned, wondering when she was going to tell the Slayer that little gem. The mental torture he'd inflicted on Cordelia so far should've tipped her into loonsville; instead she'd hardened and withdrawn. She was no fun and he was hoping that if he won Darla back to his side then the two of them could play with the vacuous brunette for a while before killing her. She needed to die—soon. He didn't want anything reminding him of how he came back and the sloppy screw that she had been was definitely not one to remember if he could help it!

"Angelus, are they really for me?" Darla clapped her hands excitedly.

Angelus looked down at the three tearstained faces peering up at him and shrugged casually. "I know how you like triplets and the fresher the better." He looked down at the babies and laughed.

"How ever did you find them? They are so rare!" she exclaimed and snatched up one small frail body. He screamed and kicked his little legs; the two year old boy shook his head and began to sob loudly. His blond curls matted on one side where he'd been curled up asleep in this crib..

"Only the best for you my, darling." Angelus smirked over at the now fuming Master and bent down and gathered the two big eyed girls and cooed mockingly at them. He refrained from adding that all he'd had to do was break into the local hospital records and search there-- it'd taken minutes. But who was he to dissuade her from thinking he'd been walking the streets searching for the triple treat? If it got him back in her good books and between her legs, who was he to grumble?

"I just don't know where to start. Smallest one first or the boy, he just smells so delicious." Darla giggled and caught hold of the sleep-matted curls and held him still. Her face morphed and her fangs glinted sharply in the firelight. "Oh my darling boy, you really do know how to spoil a girl," she lisped girlishly as she ran her fangs over his soft fat cheek and lapped at the blood that welled from the teeny scratches.

The childish screams lasted through the night as the vampiress and her newly returned consort rebonded in an orgy of blood and fucking that made the Master want to weep. 'It's not fair. She's mine! I trained her to do that trick with her tongue and he gets the benefit?' Her stamina for sex and death was truly outstanding, and yet again he'd lost her to the potato farmer's son. As much as he enjoyed hearing the three little piggies squeal as his daughter sucked the marrow from their fingers and toes, he could've done without the visual of the great hairy arse of her childe bobbing up and down. .

He really hated losing her – again. No one blew him better than his sweet Darla, not even the recently dusted Luke.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up." She flicked the top of the bottle and sprayed holy water over what had once been her dad's face. The sound of burning flesh filled the air, joining the screams that echoed through the cellar. The familiar features distorted as he vamped out in pain. Cordelia stared impassively at the demon's tortured screams, the part of her that had cared for her parents had died the moment she'd staked her mom. Now all that was left was the thing that had taken over her daddy. She tapped her fingernails on the file she held and waited for him to stop howling.

"Bitch, I should've forced your mother to abort you!" the demon snarled. Cordelia suppressed the agony that shot through her due to his hateful words and the growled at the beast wearing her father's face.

"Whatever. Now be a good vampy and sign these." Cordelia held out a pen and waited for the chained vampire to take it. "Do it and I'll let you have some blood." She dropped the papers at his feet. It had taken the two weeks since Angelus had turned her parents to break him enough to agree to sign over all he owned, even the hidden accounts that the IRS would've loved to know about. Cordelia had liquidated those and put the cash into the safe in the study. This was the last set and then she could stake him and claim the estate for herself. With the money her parents had she would be in a secure financial position. No distractions for her hunting Angelus.

"Here, you cold bitch, that's the last of it. Now give me my bloo—" He was dust before he could even blink.

"Thanks."

Cordelia stood and walked out without a backward glance. She managed to climb the stairs before she collapsed in a heap and began to sob. She was finally able to mourn her parents, finally able to let part of her feel again. It hurt so much, but it reminded her she was still alive and nearly ready to kill the bastard that was trying to drive her nuts.

He would fail.

Cordelia Chase was nothing if not strong. She would survive and succeed.

Angelus was in for a world of hurt.
 

Time definitely didn't fly when you weren't having fun.

Buffy kicked a rock on the grass and muttered grumpily under her breath. Her patrol buddy for the night was not the one she wanted, no way was this one a scrumptiously shaped vampire who could kiss her until her eyes crossed and her toes curled. Nope, instead she was stuck with Cordy the Sarah Connor wannabe. Buffy sighed and wondered for the umpteenth time what Spike was doing. Giles had been all with the bad moody and said that she and Cordelia had to patrol so that the newbie could get some more fighting experience. Part of Buffy realised that this was a good thing. Angelus had been efficient in his tormenting of Cordelia, leaving toy surprises like dead cheerleaders all over campus and it was time for him to be dust in the wind. After she'd grudgingly agreed he'd then taken Spike aside and they'd had some muttered conversation which led to Spike's face dropping and then clouding with anger. Buffy frowned, wondering what the hell that had been about; Spike had lit out of the library as if his duster was on fire, closely followed by a puffing Xandershape.

"Hsst, wake up," Cordelia's voice whispered across the moonlit cemetery. She waved her hand, gesturing for the preoccupied blonde to join her.

"What's up?" Buffy slide down into a crouch next to the short-haired girl and peeped around the gravestone. Her eyes widened in surprise, "whoa, what the hell is that?" She eyed the lump of grey slime with trepidation; her shoes were new and so cute and not ready to be sacrificed to the altar of Slayerdom.

"Dunno, but it's gross and slimy and I think we need to squish it!" Cordelia exclaimed and then leapt up with a banshee yell and did a series of flips over to the unsuspecting demon. Her agility and years of cheerleading practise gave her a gymnastic edge over the the original Scoobies who were also not blessed with the Slayer gene. Buffy had to admit that she was not a hindrance like Willow and Xander usually where; with Cordy she could trust her to fight without having to watch her all the time. Between herself, Spike and Giles the intensive training they'd given Cordelia was paying off. Now all they could hope was that the emotional damage would slowly heal. Though Buffy kinda doubted it'd be quick, the taller girl's admission earlier on about having to dust her parents combined with the absence of plastic surgeon bound Harmony for the last week all equalled meltdown in her book. 'But hey, Harmony kinda deserved the smack down and it isn't as if that was her real nose in the first place.'

"Buffy, need a hand here," Cordelia grunted through punches and kicks with the endangered demon.

With that Buffy pulled out the stake Spike had given her and pressed the release that she'd found on it releasing the silver stiletto blade thus winning her the stake off Spike.

With a holler she leapt into the fray slicing and dicing as she went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure?"

"Look at it," Spike growled.

"Don't wanna." Xander squeezed shut his eyes and shook his head. "Not good, I'll have nightmares."

"Look you nit, shutting your eyes and shaking your noggin isn't going to make it all go away." Spike hit the teen on the back of the head with the leather bound book they'd 'liberated' from Angel's old flat. He hoped that the smack might actually knock some sense into the nit, he may like the boy but sometimes the pup just made him want to run screaming down Main Street tearing his peroxided hair out.

The two of them had gone off at Giles's behest to retrieve the small book that Spike had mentioned in passing earlier. The avid gleam in the Watcher's eyes signalling that the Codex might be significant had not been missed by the observant vampire. Spike rubbed his chin thoughtfully, up until recently he had thought that he'd read anything of significance about slayers. But he'd been wrong and now he was buggered. Spike castigated himself for not flicking through the cursed thing before mentioning it to Rupes. The two of them had done so and the prophecy they'd stumbled over wasn't good. It didn't bode well for Buffy. 'Well sod that, we'll find a way to cheat this effing hermit's wet dream.'

Spike glared at the starkly painted walls of the abandoned room which was now being used to store the boxes of the recently unsouled vampire. Spike had been the one to reluctantly go and pack up the contents after making sure he was safe from home invasions from the Grand Poobah. Best way was by signing over the deeds of the building to an unsuspecting Slayer. He'd managed to circumvent the whole 'having to be invited in' by being inside the building whilst signing the papers. Spike grinned. Little did Buffy know she was now the proud owner of a substantial real estate portfolio. He made a mental note to make sure to tell her—someday. The sight of Angelus hammering on the invisible barrier later that night had taken the sting out of the entire procedure for Spike. But the capper for the evening was the water balloons filled with holy water that he and the whelp had launched on the git and his she-bitch, driving them both off cursing into the night. 'He loved the scent of burning vamp skin in the evening.'

"Hey, enough with the smacking of the head. The brain cells are few and far between as it is and the less damage the better. I'm not like Giles who can afford to be knocked out over and over and still have the book smarts." Xander ducked and poked Spike in the ribs in self defence and inadvertently discovered the so-called Big Bad's secret weakness. "Oh my god, you're such a girl!" he exclaimed happily and proceeded to tickle the squirming vampire into a snickering puddle on the floor.

"Leave off, this is serious." Spike hated that he'd lost serious cool points with the giggles and the wriggling. He also wondered at the sanity of the boy that after being presented with a written prophecy of the death of his friend. 'Wonder if his mum dropped him on the head often?'

"Shhhh, come join me in the land of denial, it's a pretty place with nice happy views." Xander stood and offered a hand to pull Spike up. "Look, shiny lights."

"We need to get this to Giles and get working on a solution to this." Spike tucked away the small tattered Pergamum Codex he'd found amongst the few books of poetry Angel pretended to read when he'd wanted to appear broody—but Spike now knew his real addiction. The piles of worn and dog eared Harlequin bodice rippers he'd found hidden under his grandsire's bed had given him away.

"Yeah I know, but what can we do?" Xander's face darkened with determination. "We have to make sure this doesn't happen."

Spike rocked on his heels and pondered the dilemma. "Let me think on it as we head back."

"Good and maybe I might get inspired too." Xander stuffed his hands into his pockets and aimed a hard kick at one of the boxes, nodding in satisfaction at the sound of glass breaking.

"Vandal."

"Bloodsucker."

"Utter git."

"Stuck in a '80's fashion rut."

"Whelp with a Hawaii Five O fixation."

"Slayer sniffer."

"Xander, that's disgusting!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know, there was a time when all this slime on your clothes would've lead to 'ewww gross' and me having to foot massive dry cleaning bills." Buffy sank down next to Cordelia who was lying flat on her back on top of the mausoleum they had climbed onto.

"Yeah well, there was a time when I wasn't emotionally scarred and my parents weren't dust in my dustpan," she responded dryly. She ran her fingers through her short hair pointedly and then tucked her arms behind her head, fingers laced together.

Buffy glanced hesitantly over at the silent girl and opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it shut.

"Spill already, less with the guppy impersonations," Cordelia managed a small smile to take the sting out of her words. Of all of them, Buffy and Spike she considered friends and if Buffy had a question then far be it for her to be all Miss Avoidy. It was bad for her skin, all the repressing the others did. She'd wondered if Xander was deliberately pretending not to realise that Willow had the hots for him. Cordy had spotted that fairly early on and tried to get Willow to say something, but her people skills had never been of the good and they sure as hell were lacking since Angel had gone all Edward Scissorhands on her head and heart. The fumbled attempt to get Willow to share with Xander had led to tears from the redhead and a major headache for her. So now she ignored the two of them, it was easier.

"Are you okay?" Buffy whispered, staring fixedly at her hands.

"Getting better. Nothing like a kick in the teeth and a makeover from hell to give you new perspective on life." Cordelia sat up and crossed her legs and glared balefully at the slime that was crusting nicely on her cargo pants. "Look, I wouldn't be all care to share with anyone else but, well, with you or Spike it doesn't hurt to talk about this." She picked at some of the pale grey ooze and watched as it flaked off. She rubbed her fingers together as if testing the substance of the demon blood. "I hate him. I hate what he did to me and my parents – my friends. Sometimes when it gets really bad I wish it'd been anyone but me." She looked through her lashes at Buffy; the unspoken words, 'rather you than me' clung to the air around them. Buffy ducked her head and nodded, accepting that Cordy was only human and hell, she'd thought the exact same thing - well almost.

"If it helps, I am sorry. Maybe if I hadn't known him or, you know—" Buffy didn't want to voice the suspicions that she and Spike had discussed. The ones where it made Cordelia seem even nastier, the ones where it was only because Angel had shown interest in Buffy that she'd taken him to bed. That was in the past and the ex-cheerleader was now her friend and Buffy knew that real friends were few and far between and were to be treasured and taken care of. Cordelia had made mistakes, all of them had, but that was in the past, and now they had to learn to deal and cope with the new changes in all their lives.

"Yeah, well I guess then we'd all be very much different, but that's not what happened and now we get on with the dusting his ass and then we party."

"Ohhh, a party and we weren't invited. Well that is just plain rude."

A silky tone filled with malice interrupted the two girl's bonding moment with chilling results. It was him and he'd brought a skanky friend. A slutty looking blonde vampire, that Spike had luckily filled them all in on: Angelus's sire Darla, the favourite of the Master. Buffy frowned down at the short woman, bad thoughts filling her head with ideas that she'd rather not entertain. 'Ewww, he was only stalking me cos I'm short and blonde, he was searching for a substitute for his sire.' Shaking the icky thoughts out of her head, Buffy rolled onto her knees, her eyes never leaving the newly reunited vamp couple.

Buffy glanced over at Cordelia and rose smoothly; taking advantage of their position, she glared down her nose at Angelus and his momma from Hell. "What do you want?" She crossed her arms, making a show of the silver handled stake gripped calmly in her hands. Cordelia stood up and glared down at the vampire who'd humiliated her and turned her family into monsters she'd had to put down like rabid dogs. She was acutely conscious of her looks in comparison to the dainty blonde vampiress super-glued to his side and her vocal cords paralysed. "Eww, the Catholic school girl outfit is kinda erring on the side of gross, isn't it?" Buffy mocked. "What happened? You woke up one night and realised an entire generation had passed you by so you thought, 'oh hey, I'll catch up by watching lame ass John Hughes films?'"

"Shut up, you nasty little girl," Darla hissed through her fangs. Not even looking at Buffy, she focused on the girl her darling boy had taken to his bed; the Slayer was inconsequential at the moment. She was here for blood and it was the tall girl's she wanted to bathe in. She snarled at Cordelia, aching to rip her throat out and destroy the child who'd dared to sleep with her Angelus.

"Awww, gonna cry?" Buffy mocked and casually flicked her stake in her hand, Spike's words from training earlier on echoing in her head. 'A Slayer must always reach for her weapon', then he'd gone all fangy and snarled and bounced around her like a Furbie on acid, teasing her that he already had his. It had stuck in her brain on repeat and now she was mentally thanking him.

"Jeez, that's the best you can come up with, you freak in a kilt?" Cordelia's voice was strong and even as she pulled herself up to her full height and stared daggers at the two vampires.

"Ohhh, has the little girl got her spine back?" Darla slithered around Angelus, trailing her hand over his broad back and chuckling lightly. "Was wondering if Angelus had hacked it out of you along with your hair?" she mocked cruelly and patted her blonde locks pointedly, saccharine venom dripping of each word.

"Please, as if!" Cordelia reached into her jacket pocket and her fingers curled around the cool bottle she had tucked in there earlier. "As one night stands go, it didn't rate much on the Richter scale. Come on, from one girl unfortunately in the know to another, you gotta agree he hasn't got much going on in the trouser department." She raised her free hand and pointedly wriggled her pinky finger. "Not that big actually...was a bit of a disappointment really." She set her chin firmly and dared Angelus to refute the truth.

Before Darla could lie through her gnarled teeth, Angelus growled and launched himself at the mausoleum, a litany of curses and hissed threats falling from his mouth. Darla was close on his heels, howling angrily at the continued taunts about her fashion victim looks and how easily she must be satisfied with the weenie. They were stalled in their tracks by the shattering of glass on Angelus's forehead and the ominous hiss of flesh burning.

"Paybacks a bitch and guess what? I'm one too," Cordelia yelled as she pulled another vial of holy water out of her pocket and threw it at Darla, hitting her square in the neck. She looked down impassively at Angelus, her face blank, not revealing her irreverent thoughts; 'Omg, what did I ever see in him? Those leather pants make his ass look huoooge!' Instead she focused on causing the maximum amount of damage she could.

"I am going to kill you, little girl. Mark my words, it'll be painful and drawn out and you will suffer through hell before the end and will die begging for release," Angelus snarled, blinking through the smoke that was issuing from his burnt skin.

"Yeah, you and what army, fat ass! From here it looks like you're going a whiter shade of pale with the pain this so called little girl has inflicted on you and hey, I've only just started, Peaches," she taunted. With each word her mental wounds healed, bring out a stronger and more determined aspect of her psyche.

"Cordy, go you!" Buffy praised her as she crouched down to jump off the crypt and throw herself into the fray.

"Wait, I have something else." The taller girl pulled out a plastic bottle and something else. She squirted the two growling vampires and then flicked a match and dropped it on their heads, igniting the lighter fluid she'd sprayed on them. A Spike special, one of many dirty tricks he'd taught them all despite Giles tutting in disapproval in the background.

"Let 'em burn."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Does this read like I think it does?" Spike tapped the pages impatiently, his slim frame taut with tension. Behind him he could hear Xander shuffling worriedly from one foot to the other. Giles humphed under his breath and waved the tense vampire away and kept reading, the priceless volume of slayer lore cradled in his hands.

"Ruddy ponce." Spike flopped into one of the chairs and slammed his booted feet up on the library table; he patted his pockets searching for...

"Don't even think of lighting that," Giles's voice brooked no discussion.

"He's the same when I get the Twinkies out, eyes in the back of his head. You know me and Willow actually checked once, cos you never know here on the Hellmouth. It could happen." Xander slumped down next to the bristling vampire and patted him on the elbow. "Here, try this. I got a pack for you incase Giles wigged." Xander handed the pack of nicotine gum to Spike and slouched down in his chair, unconsciously mimicking his partner in book crime. Spike started at the innocuous pack of gum in surprise, then peeked at Xander from the corner of his eyes, subtly checking to see if it was a trick. Spike shook his head and opened the gift. He tossed a couple of sticks into his mouth and began chewing as loudly as he could.

"Have you shown this to Buffy?" Giles muttered.

"When? As Xander and I legged it back here? What, do you think we made a quick detour and popped in on the Slayer to frighten her to bits with a spine tingling prophecy predicting doom and gloom?" Spike managed to refrain from rolling his eyes and contented himself with cracking his knuckles.

"Right...well...I think we need to think about this. Before we take any action." Giles closed the tome gently and then leapt six foot in the air. Spike had moved in the blink of an eye, game face on and growling into his surprised visage. "I say..."

"No you bloody well don't." Spike growled and reached over and lifted Giles from his feet by the lapels and gave him a good shake. Xander slipped behind Spike and offered silent support. "There will be no thinking about this before we do anything. First thing to do is to tell the Slayer and then we go and rip the old git's dried up heart out and set fire to the rest of him."

"Well really, I don't agree and I am her Watcher. Last thing we need is to put her off balance. Best to keep this quiet."

"What, until she's dead?" Spike asked sarcastically. "Honestly, you lot take the biscuit. Your all too happy to throw your charges to the lions and sit back and nod and tut and say 'oh dear, well it was predicted'. God forbid you actually try and do something to stop it – prophecies are mutable at the best of times, you great ninny." Spike shook Giles again; the Watcher's glasses went flying across the library floor. "No wonder slayers die young – if all they have for help is cowards like you lot."

"Yeah, what he said and also a 'hey!' for the secret keepage. Buffy needs to know about this. Otherwise it could lead to badness and tears," Xander echoed though much less eloquently.

"Needs to know what? Hey Giles, you dropped your glasses and Spike, put my watcher down." Buffy's voice was calm and level as she and Cordelia walked through the swing doors into the stress filled room.

Anger and fangs melted off Spike's face at her dulcet tones and he unceremoniously dropped Giles on his backside and slithered over to Buffy. "Hullo luv, you smell like fire and dust. Had a good night fighting things that go bump and all that?" He ghosted a kiss over her cheek and reached down and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Alright, Princess?" He glanced over at Cordy and grinned.

"Cool, I set fire to Angelus and Darla the wonder ho! It was awesome," Cordelia practically bounced over to Xander and Giles. "Why is Giles on his ass and what's with the bad moodies?"

"Slayer, pet – now don't get your knickers in a knot over this, cos I promise I will do everything I can do to stop it and the only way it'll happen will be over my dusted body." Spike looked down at her, the fierce determination in his eyes calming her slightly and reassuring her she wasn't alone in whatever he was talking about.

Buffy shivered nervously. "Okaaaay, kinda scaring the untwisty panties off me here, so spill already."

"Will do but firstly, well done Princess with the Peaches and Slapper incineration, hope it hurt before they dusted?" Spike was stunned that the cheerleader had managed it, killing the worst two of his cadre.

"Weeell, they're not dusty...yet, but we got em good." Cordelia pulled Giles up, patted him down and returned his glasses to the now flustered older man.

Spike's head snapped around and his eyes narrowed. "They're not dust?" A chill ran down his spine. "Not good, all you've done is piss 'em off even more," he revealed as he chewed his lower lip worriedly. "They'll be back for vengeance; we need to get to them before they get any of us."

"Spike, what the hell were you and Giles fighting about? Less with the voice of gloom over Angelus and Darla and more with telling of the story tothestartingtofreakoutBuffy, please." Buffy's voice swooped up into the high pitched frequency of anger and panic as she spoke.

"Right," Spike grimaced. He had tabled the Peaches problem. it wasn't as important as his Slayer, and he turned Buffy to face him. He gripped her shoulders firmly, trying to calm her with his touch. He caught her eyes with his and stared down steadily and reassuringly. "Found a prophecy and well—" he grimaced not wanting to vocalise it.

"It says that the Master will kill the Slayer and rise from the mouth of Hell," Giles interjected, realising that it was down to him to tell his Slayer what her fate was. Once he'd listened to Spike's ravings he realised that the vampire was right and that he was wrong. Years of watcher doctrine had flown out of the proverbial window and Giles had then accepted that Buffy was more than the Slayer – she was his friend and nearest thing to family he had. She needed to know – no, deserved to know, so he had bitten the bullet and spoken up, saving Spike the pain of telling her. He sighed and waited for the outburst from his usually voluble charge, but instead there was silence. Cordelia and Xander stood frozen in their places, staring worriedly at Buffy and Spike. Spike stood as still as an obsidian statue, focussed on Buffy to the detriment of the others.

Buffy's left hand fluttered up to her throat. The other reached for one of Spike's and her mouth opened and a sigh escaped. Then she began to laugh, a strange low, forced laugh that was filled with desperation and fear. And then she spoke.

"Oh."