Giles knew the moment Willow came into the library something was wrong. The red rims around her eyes gave away that she'd been crying, but her face… She was stricken. He braced himself on the counter, waiting for the worst.

For her part, Willow had rehearsed in her head over and over again what she was going to say to break the news to Giles. She needed to ease him into it, maybe tell him to sit down like they always did in the movies.

But when the time came, all she could do was blurt out, her voice cracking from her tears, "Buffy's dead!"

Giles had somehow known she was going to say that, even if his heart hadn't wanted to believe it—still didn't want to believe it. "Are…are you sure? Willow, what happened?"

"I saw her last night," Willow said. She paused, a sob bursting forth. "Giles, she's a vampire!"

It was even worse than he thought, and Giles stumbled, barely managing to grab on to the counter with his other hand and use both to pull himself back up. "No…please, no…"

"She…she came to my house," Willow continued. "She tried to get me to invite her in, but something felt wrong, and I held up a cross. And then she…I saw her face, Giles." The redhead stopped for a moment and shuttered. "She ran off then."

"I can't…" Giles shook his head, removing his glasses so he could wipe away his tears. "I failed her."

Willow opened her mouth to respond, to try to assure Giles it wasn't his fault at all, but before she had a chance. Cordelia burst through the library doors.

"Xander's dead!"

Willow and Giles both whipped around to look at Cordelia, identical looks of shock meeting the sobbing brunette. "What did you say?" Willow asked, her brain unable to process the news that she'd lost her two dearest friends in only a day.

"Xander's dead. I…" Cordelia stopped, her usual in-control demeanor completely gone. "I went by his house to drive him to school, and there were cops everywhere. They wouldn't tell me much, but when I explained I was his girlfriend, they did tell me his mother had found him dead this morning."

Willow sank to the ground, her head buried in her hands. "This is all my fault."

"No, Willow, it isn't," Giles insisted.

"It is! It was Buffy who killed him, Giles, I know it. It just…it has to be. He must've invited her in! But he wouldn't have if I'd just warned him!"

Cordelia took a step back. "Wait…what's going on here? Did we find Buffy?"

Willow looked up at the cheerleader. "Buffy's a vampire. She…she tried to get into my house last night. She must've gotten Xander." She looked away, her head hanging. "Only she wouldn't have it I had had the sense to warn him instead of just sitting on the floor all night like an incompetent idiot."

Giles took a tentative step forward and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You cannot blame yourself for this. For one thing, you have no idea if Buffy even did this—or if she did, if Xander wasn't already dead before she came to your home."

Willow shook her head, her body drawing in on itself.

Her world was crashing down around her, and the only person she felt she could blame was herself.

*** *** ***

Buffy was bored.

She looked over at Angelus and Drusilla.

Painfully bored.

It hadn't taken her long to decide she didn't like hunting with Dru. The other female was petulant and fickle, and the entire night had revolved around her from the beginning. Buffy knew she, too, was manipulating Angelus with batting eyelashes and a strategic pout, but honestly… Drusilla just kept pushing the envelope.

And if she called Angelus "Daddy" one more time, Buffy might very well put herself out of her misery and just stake herself.

"Daddy, can we go find some nice little children to play with? I love the way they giggle in my tummy."

Okay, that was officially it. Buffy decided she'd find someone else to eat on her own.

"Why don't you two do that. I'm heading back to the mansion," Buffy announced.

"On your own?" Angelus asked quickly. "Are you…"

"I'm done for the night." She smiled sweetly at her sire. "You really wore me out."

Angelus puffed up his chest with pride. "Did I now?"

"Yup. So it's quitting time for me. You two go, slaughter an orphanage or whatever."

"You're still a fledgling, Buff," Angelus pointed out. "Are you sure you can…"

"Daddy, I want to play now," Drusilla said angrily, stomping her foot. "Let the dolly go on her own, I don't care."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I think Dru wants some alone time with 'Daddy.'" Buffy winked before turning around and disappearing off into the shadows, grateful when she heard Angelus and Drusilla walk off in the other direction. She wasn't sure how much more she could take of the two of them.

At least Spike was sane. Relatively speaking, anyway.

Buffy turned onto Crawford Street, keeping her eyes open for potential prey, when she spotted a girl probably around her own age on the corner, her eyes wide as she trembled. She looked up towards the mansion, realizing how close the girl was, and a plan formed in her head.

It looked like Spike would be getting a hot meal tonight…

"Are you lost?" Buffy asked the girl. Her demon face was long gone, and she looked every bit the part of the high school student she used to be.

The girl turned, startled, but immediately relaxed when she saw Buffy. After all, she'd been conditioned not to talk to threatening strangers—not small, blonde teenaged girls. "Yeah, I think I am. I'm new to Sunnydale, and I got all turned around. I was trying to find these friends I was supposed to meet, but now…" She shrugged sheepishly. "I have no idea where I am."

"My house is just up the street," Buffy said with a perky smile. "Do you want to come in and use my phone?"

"Would you let me?" the girl asked. "I'd be so grateful."

"Sure. Wouldn't be a problem at all," Buffy replied, trying to keep herself from dancing at the ease of this. "Follow me."

Without any protest, the girl followed Buffy, not a thought in her mind that she may be being led to her death.

"The phone's right in here," Buffy said as they walked into the mansion.

"I can't see anything," the girl protested, trying to squint in the dark.

"Sorry. The light burnt out right before I left, and these high ceilings are a bitch to deal with. But the phone's right in here. Come on." She placed her hand on the girl's arm and led her into another room.

It took a moment for the girl's eyes to adjust from the darkness to the dim candle light, but when they did, she gasped. She was in a bedroom now, a man dressed all in black reclining in the bed.

The man grinned, and the girl's earlier ease was gone. Whoever this man was, one look from him could fill her with sheer terror.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Did you bring me delivery, pet?"

"Yup, sure did," Buffy replied, obviously very pleased with herself. "I thought you'd like something fresh."

Panicked, the girl turned, only to scream when she saw Buffy, the blonde's vampire face now in place. She stumbled and turned again, only to see Spike's face had changed as well.

Buffy grabbed the girl and shoved her onto the bed, forcing her in Spike's lap. The girl struggled, but she was no match for the vampire's strength, and soon, Spike's fangs were embedded in her neck.

Buffy watched Spike feeding, the sight making her tremble in desire. While she'd found him attractive before—even if she wouldn't have admitted it—knowing what he was kept her just repulsed enough to never dwell on his looks. But now… He was a vicious, bloodthirsty killer…

And it really turned her on.

When the girl was drained, Spike pulled up, his tongue coming out to lick the excess blood off of his face. Buffy grabbed the limp body and threw it to the other side of the bed before she jumped into Spike's lap, straddling him as she grabbed his mouth and kissed him, moaning at the taste of both him and fresh human blood.

"Fuck me, Spike," she begged, writhing in his lap. "I want you…"

"Where's Angelus?" Spike asked, Buffy's kisses making him pant.

"He and Dru are still out. We're alone."

That was all Spike needed to know. With a snarl, he flipped them over, relishing Buffy's squeal of delight at his actions. He wanted her—had since the moment he'd seen her really—and he wasn't going to pass up his chance at her now. The Slayer was a hot little thing, even if that was more figurative than literal now, and with warm blood in his veins and Dru's bed denied to him for so long, he wanted nothing more than a good, hard fuck.

There was no caress, no foreplay as Spike pushed Buffy's skirt up past her hips, snapped open his fly, and thrust into her body. She cried out in delight, her legs wrapping around him to hold on as he set a fast, punishing rhythm.

Buffy's eyes rolled back in her head, a fang-filled smile on her face. Angel had never been able to give it to her like this—with or without the soul. Spike was so long, so thick, and he filled her until she thought she would burst.

As her orgasm approached, his thrusts only grew in strength, making Buffy scream. She reached out blindly, searching for something to hold on to and finding the dead girl, frail human bones crushing beneath her superior strength.

The second he felt her muscles fluttering around him, Spike let himself go as well, shouting out in heartfelt release.

He collapsed on top of her, but Buffy didn't push him off. Instead, she held him closer, letting him bury his face against her neck. That had been…

Well, to say he'd rocked her world certainly wouldn't have been an overstatement.

Still, her real joy lay in how much Spike seemed to have enjoyed it. She wanted him to desire her—to desire her enough to want more.

Buffy sighed. "I wish it could be like this always. I'm so much happier when I'm with you."

Spike looked up, his head cocked to the side. "You don't like Angelus?"

Buffy shook her head, pouting prettily. "No. He doesn't know how to really please me." She stroked his cheek. "Not like you, Spike."

Spike had to admit, were he a lesser man, he'd be putty in her dainty little hands right now. However, he was smart enough to know when he was being played—even if his cock was screaming at him to just go along with it if it meant more sex like what they'd just had.

He pulled up, refastening his jeans before he knocked the dead girl to the floor and took over the spot where she'd been. "All right, Buffy. Just tell me straight—what game are you playing?"

Buffy blinked and straightened out her skirt. "Game?" she asked.

"You want something out of me, and you're playing me off Angelus to get it. So cut the crap and give it to me straight."

Buffy was silent for a moment as she decided what to do. She'd picked Spike out at the very beginning as her only possible ally, and she hoped she hadn't been miscalculating. Finally, she spoke, giving him the blunt answer he wanted.

"I want to kill him."

Spike's eyebrow arched up, Buffy's response not entirely what he'd expected. "You want to… I thought you were all in love with him an' whatnot."

"I hate him," Buffy replied with a snarl. "I remember my last days as a human, Spike. I remember every sick thing he did to me, just to hurt me. And this…what I am now—he did that to hurt me, too." She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Granted, I don't know what I was so afraid of when I was alive, 'cause this whole being a vampire thing is wicked cool, but Angelus knew when he was doing it to me that he was going to be forcing me into my worst nightmare. He wanted to break me. But he didn't—and now I want my revenge."

Spike looked at her for a moment, processing her little speech. It wasn't common for a fledglings to be so vehement about killing their sires, no matter what the circumstances behind their turning was. Maybe it was a bit of the Slayer left in her, Spike didn't know.

"So you want me to kill him for you?" Spike asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No. When I find my chance, I'm killing him myself. But I…" She stopped and looked down, almost afraid to admit the whole truth, but knowing she had no choice but to lay her cards out on the table if she wanted to get what she needed from him. "This world is all new to me, Spike. I don't want to be alone in it."

Spike searched her voice for any sign of guile this time, but found none. He knew what she was feeling, remembered the early days of his vampirehood and the uneasiness that came with finding everything suddenly different. On the one hand, it was all amazing, but on the other, it was overwhelming.

"You just want my promise I won't abandon you then?"

Buffy nodded. "And…and I want you to be like my sire. I want you to teach me what I'm supposed to do."

"You want me to be like your sire when you off your actual one?" Spike asked, wanting to clarify for himself that she really was making such an unusual request.

"Yes."

He took a moment, mulling over her request. Offing Angelus certainly didn't rank high on his list of things that he least wanted to see happen, but it could still cause ripples in his little macabre family.

Big ones.

"You're going to do this, regardless of my response, aren't you?" he asked.

"I am. And honestly, if you get in my way, I'll dust you, too."

Spike gave her a quick nod, appreciating her truthful answer. "I wouldn't mind the wanker gone either, but the fact remains, Dru's quite fond of him. He dusts, she's not going to be happy."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "So you're what, going to let him live because you're psychotic ho of a girlfriend wants him to keep banging her?"

In an instant, Spike's relaxed demeanor was gone, and he rolled over, pinning Buffy down to the bed with bruising force. "Don't you ever talk about Drusilla that way, you hear me, girl? You're nothing to me compared to her."

Buffy nodded, even as she struggled under him. "Yeah, okay. Get off me."

Spike squeezed her wrists, making her wince, but rolled off again. "I never said I didn't want him gone because of her—I just said she wasn't going to be happy. She's going to make quite a fuss. What I need from you is a promise you'll let me handle her and not harm her in any way. I won't lose Dru."

Buffy really didn't like that amendment to her plan. She'd sort of been hoping Drusilla could meet the pointy end of a stake, too. But she supposed she could put up with her as long as Angelus was gone—and as long as Spike still paid attention to her.

And hell, maybe Buffy could eventually convince him she was the better woman anyway, and he'd ditch his loony hobag sire.

"Deal," Buffy replied. "Only Angelus fits in a Dust Buster."

"Then you've got my support."

Buffy smiled brightly and leaned in to seal the deal with a kiss before she rose from the bed. "I'm going to clean up before Angelus gets home. You should, too. He won't be happy if he smells us on each other, and I so don't feel like having to spend another night pretending to be terrified. Hello, vampire here—like I'm going to tremble at the prospect of whips and chains."

Spike allowed himself a blissful moment to indulge in the image that brought to mind before he shook his head. "Right, clean up. And we should probably take out the garbage, too," he added, nodding his head back towards the corpse.

"Yeah, that. I'll come back for it soon."

She gave Spike a quick wink before leaving the room.

*** *** ***

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