Thank you to Maria and Flight Of Fancy. A special thank you to Flight Of Fancy that almost vomited betaing this chapter, and claiming there should be an Angel-sex warning on this chapter.


Spike lay on his bed, watching the smoke from his cigarette slowly drift up to the ceiling.

His mind kept going back to the contradiction that was the former Slayer, Buffy Summers. On one hand, she was clearly a fierce warrior, graceful and lethal. Just thinking about watching the Slayer fight had Spike adjusting the hard-on in his pants. On the other hand, she seemed so soft and trusting when talking to him last night, as if she never considered for a moment that he would turn on her and attack. Spike was a vamp of his word, but that made him a very rare specimen indeed. Still, Buffy turned her back on him without a second thought. Spike wondered if maybe she knew him in the future, and that’s why she was so confident now.

The trust thing was really bothering him though. How had a Slayer come to trust the Big Bad? He wasn’t just a piddling little member of the undead population, he was the Slayer of Slayers. The Big Bad himself. He’d made it his unlife’s ambition to kill her kind, and yet, that didn’t seem to bother her at all. It didn’t make sense, and he was going to do permanent damage to his brain if he thought about it any longer.

Spike checked the alarm clock on his bedside table again, wondering, not for the first time, why a minion would have put it there in the first place. Instinct told him the sun was still an hour or so shy of dropping out of the sky. Hearing Drusilla and her toy starting up again in the next room, he knocked on the wall behind his headboard a few times, knowing the attempt was futile. Spike sighed. As soon as night fell, he was out of there. His poor ears had suffered enough abuse for one day already.

As soon as the sun set, Spike left the factory and headed to the Summers residence. When he got there, he overheard Buffy’s mother talking to someone called Merrick, who was clearly a Watcher. Joyce was making plans to meet the Watcher at Buffy’s home so they could take delivery of some beds, and then get them put together.

Hearing that, one thing became clear. Buffy Summers had been telling him the truth, and she was now in LA. Spike found himself hoping that her trip to the city was a short one.

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‘Help her and she’ll be the way to your redemption,’ was what Whistler had said. Angel remembered the words exactly, and was convinced that they meant that he and Buffy were meant to be together. The former Slayer was clearly his, a gift from the Powers That Be for his years of selfless service. Now all Angel had to do was make Buffy realize her role, but how?

Drinking coffee with Cordelia hadn’t helped, and neither had the stunt in the library. Maybe she doesn’t believe I’m serious? Maybe she’s just assuming that I’ll hang around waiting for her forever? That must be it. Angel jumped up and began to pace across the length of his apartment.

What would happen if he raised the stakes? Buffy kept telling everyone that his soul was a curse, and it could be broken by a moment of happiness caused by having sex. What if Buffy was lying, just trying to keep me dangling on a string? That wasn’t going to work for him. Not only was he not willing to dance to her tune, but he wanted to get his hands on her now, before she soiled herself by sleeping around.

An arrogant smile decorated Angel’s face. He just knew that when Buffy realized he wasn’t going to wait around for her, she’d stop all this idiocy and give in. Buffy would be his prize, his sacrificial virgin to be moulded and trained to suit his own personal desires. She’ll be mine. I’ll be her first, her only, and in the future, her every thought will revolve around pleasing me. Angel’s smile grew wider, as he formulated a plan in his mind. He felt like his heart was swelling in victory already, and his chest stung and burned. Angel briefly wondered if he might have pulled a muscle the night before, and took a moment to stretch his arms over his head to relieve the burning pain. He was only distracted for a moment though. To get Buffy, I just need to seduce Cordelia, and then make sure that Buffy finds out that she’s losing my attention. Angel relaxed. The pain in his chest was gone, and it was time to start making plans for his date with Cordelia tonight.

Thrilled to hear from the dark vampire, Cordelia happily agreed to meet Angel at the Bronze that night. She gave some thought to complaining about the short notice, but decided she’d best grab the opportunity when it presented itself. She would have time to play the Diva once she was sure of his affections.

Knowing what she did about Buffy’s dates with Angel, she expected to be waiting on her own for at least half an hour before the broody vampire showed up. She was pleased then, when she arrived and saw him waiting for her at the table they had shared before. She beamed at him as she walked over to join him.

Over the course of the evening, Angel did his best to woo the young cheerleader. He managed to convince her that he had developed deep feelings for her, and even loosened up enough to take her out on the floor for a slow dance. That evening, Angel was a perfect gentleman, leaving her at her door with a kiss on the cheek, after receiving her promise that she’d join him for a movie the next night.

The next evening, Angel didn’t leave anything to chance. Before meeting Cordelia at the cinema, he stripped the old sheets off his bed and replaced them with clean silk bedding. He also dusted his apartment, replaced the burned-down candles with new ones, and took a long shower finished off with one of those manly colognes that drove the ladies crazy. Off and on through the day, but especially when he was naked in the shower, he found himself fighting a sharp pain in his chest. It seemed to come in response to Angel’s frequent daydreams about what things would be like when Buffy was his; how she’d come crawling to him, begging forgiveness, pleading for him to possess her utterly. As he showered, his hands soaped his chest, his stomach, and then lingered on his cock. He knew he had to take care of his erection before he dressed; he didn’t want to go the whole evening with a hard-on, and his plans for seducing Cordelia meant he wouldn’t find any satisfaction with her until after the movie.

As he left his apartment, Angel chuckled. Who knew that just thinking about deflowering the virginal Miss Summers would get him harder than he’d ever been before?

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Before heading back to the factory, Spike fed from a drunken bum in a dirty alley. He returned home to find blessed peace and quiet. Dru and her toy were out, and he was spared the ongoing torture of Drusilla’s abandonment.

Unable to help himself, his thoughts returned again to Buffy Summers, Slayer Retired. There was something about her that just kept drawing him back. He didn’t know if it was her shampoo-commercial golden hair, bouncing and moving like fire when she fought, or her soft skin, like warm velvet. Maybe it was her plump red lips that, lately, just seemed to be begging for his kiss. Spike groaned. There was no point denying it. Spike was falling fast for the petite powerhouse.

Spike sighed. His reality was bleakly simple. He was alone. Drusilla didn’t want him, certainly she didn’t love him. If he was going to be honest with himself, she’d probably never really loved him. She’d turned him to be an unliving, walking, talking dolly for her amusement. Part-time toy, part-time nanny. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Spike knew it was time he faced the facts. Maybe then he could move on, if he wanted to.

Thoughts of moving on brought him quickly back to his current obsession with the blonde Slayer. Buffy Summers was alone too, from what he had seen. It was clear that Angel wanted her, but she just didn’t seem interested. Maybe she had someone else in LA? Spike wondered if that was why she had decided to head to the city for a few days.

Something just wasn’t sitting right with Spike. Buffy just didn’t seem the type to be two-timing anyone. He thought it unlikely that she would be showing so much interest in him, if she were emotionally attached to someone in LA. And I know she likes me. In fact, she more than likes me. Spike smiled in satisfaction. He had smelled her arousal when they fought. She had left their encounters as turned on as he had been, which was more turned on than he could ever remember feeling.

The whole Slayer issue was a problem though. She wouldn’t want to be with a killer, and that’s definitely what he was. I’m beneath her. The vampire mourned. Sadness crept over him, and he closed his eyes in defeat. No matter how hard I try, it’s always the same. For almost two hundred years now, all I’ve wanted was to be loved, but I’ve always fallen short. Never good enough. When he’d wanted Cecily’s love, he’d been too meek and foolish, a hopeless romantic lacking both money and social standing. With Drusilla, he questioned whether she had the capacity to love him at all, but he’d still done his best to be her knight. Buffy though, that was like reaching for the very stars in the sky. She was a Slayer, and he was her sworn enemy. Nothing but an animated corpse, walking the Earth, creating mayhem and havoc, killing and destroying everywhere he went.

But, what if I didn’t? Spike’s eyes popped open in astonishment. He lay there for the longest time, eyes unfocused, brain frozen as that one thought ricocheted around his mind. Could I stop killing? Try as he might, Spike couldn’t seem to dismiss the idea. It was a fool’s dream though, and he knew it. He couldn’t stop feeding, anymore than the Slayer could stop breathing. He needed blood to sustain his own life, and there was no way to get around it. Still, if there was a way? How far would he be willing to go to pursue his relationship with her?

Stop it, he commanded himself. He didn’t even know for sure that she liked him that way. Maybe they were only friends in the future, and not lovers. Spike groaned. Try as he might to curb his enthusiasm and take a realistic approach, even the slightest thought that they might be lovers in the future brought him right back to thinking about her warm velvety skin, kissable lips, and the sweet fragrance of her arousal when they were together.

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Angel couldn’t be happier about the way the evening was turning out. The movie had been entertaining, and Cordelia was clearly determined to keep him amused and interested. Not wanting the evening to end, Cordelia had suggested that they continue the evening with some dancing at the Bronze. As they made their way to the club, walking hand in hand, the skies had opened and a heavy rain started falling.

Of course, Cordelia wouldn’t hear of showing up at the club in her wet dress, so Angel offered his apartment as a place for her to dry off and fix her hair and makeup. It was fortunate that they were only a few blocks away from his home when the deluge hit.

Once in the basement suite, Angel gave Cordelia one of his shirts to wear as they waited for her dress to dry. While she was in the bathroom getting changed, Angel made himself busy setting up the mood lighting in the living room and decanting a bottle of wine. Preparations made, he changed out of his wet clothing and dressed in a dry pair of pants. He toyed with the idea of putting on a shirt and leaving it unbuttoned, but decided that a shirt would just be in the way when he tried to seduce his young date.

When Cordelia returned from the bathroom, Angel offered her a glass of wine. She didn’t want to appear immature, so she decided to just act like drinking wine while half-dressed and in the company of a nearly nude hunk was normal for her. Still, the apartment was cold, and she couldn’t help but shiver.

Playing the part of the concerned gentleman, Angel quickly offered Cordelia the use of his bed so she could warm up. He brought the wine bottle and a candelabrum with them into the bedroom, and insisted on taking a chair near the bed to preserve her modesty while they chatted. Of course, after half a bottle of wine, Cordelia wasn’t concerned about her modesty at all. Somehow Angel ended up sitting on the bed, and then they were kissing. After that, Angel brought all his seductive experience into play, and everything became a blur for Cordelia.

Angel might have been spending his evening with Cordelia, but in his mind he was finally having his way with Buffy, after she’d spent a reasonable amount of time on her knees, begging him to forgive her. Angel was going to make sure she paid dearly for rejecting him. Paid with her tears, and her blood, and finally, with her pain as he ripped into her sweet and untouched body. It was Buffy that filled his mind as he pumped in and out of Cordelia’s body, and it was Buffy that he thought of in that final moment, as his mind went blank and his body convulsed in orgasm. Soon, she will be mine, he thought, as he fell asleep with a wolfish grin on his face, to dream once again of taking Buffy’s virginity.

An hour or two before dawn, Angel woke with an unbearable, tearing pain in his chest. He fell out of bed and dressed himself in silence, unsure what was happening but knowing that he shouldn’t be near Cordy. Running out into the alley, he broke down, squatting in the filth and muck, beside himself with pain. Suddenly, there was a white flash, and then the pain was gone. A local streetwalker noticed the agonized vampire, and approached to see if he needed help. That was the last foolish mistake she ever made, as the enraged and now unsouled vampire ripped her throat out and fed off her before she could even scream.

Angelus laughed. Little Miss Summers had been more right than she ever could have guessed. Angel didn’t even need to fuck her to lose his soul...he just needed to think about her while he fucked someone else. The Devil knew, sex with Cordelia had been mediocre at best, and certainly wasn’t enough of an Earth-shaking event to make him lose a phone number, much less his soul.

The only thing that had allowed him to perform, in the end, was his fantasy that he was fucking Buffy instead of Cordy. Angelus was so into his little alternate reality, that it was a miracle he didn’t growl the blonde’s name when he finally came. No, there were no two ways about it. Angelus owed Buffy Summers his thanks, and he’d be more than happy to show her just how grateful he was, as soon as he could catch the little bitch. There was a smile on his face, and a bounce to his step, as he disappeared into the night.

Cordelia woke a few hours later, a little disconcerted to find herself alone in the big, silk covered bed. Forgetting that her companion was a vampire, she just assumed that Angel was in the bathroom and would be rejoining her shortly. After quickly checking her watch and seeing that she still had a few hours before she needed to get up, she snuggled back into the comfortable blankets, rolled over and let sleep take her again.

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On his way to the factory where his childer lived, Angelus was lucky enough to run into a pair of drunk teenagers on their way home for the night. Of course, now they would never make it home, and the next time their families saw them it would be in the city morgue.

The Patriarch of the family stopped just inside the factory, and waited in the shadows, listening to Dru singing some kind of nonsense. In another week, it would get on his nerves, but for now it just felt like home. Angelus noticed Spike, sitting at a desk and reading a paper. There was also a dark-haired fledge, leaning against the desk, whose eyes followed Dru around the room.

Ready to make a grand entrance, Angelus stepped further into the room, morphing into his demon face and spreading his arms open wide. “Daddy’s home.”

Everyone turned to him.

Drusilla’s eyes widened, and she whispered, “Daddy.”

Spike’s reply was a little less enthusiastic. “Angelus, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there, saving the world from all manner of nasties?” Spike asked sarcastically.

“My Angel.” Dru was slowly dancing around him now. “My Angel has come home. No more pesky soul for my Daddy.” Her dance became seductive, arms raised high in the air, her back to Angelus as she rubbed against him.

Angelus pulled his Childe to him, and rubbed his now constant erection into her ass.

At that, the youngest vampire in the room protested. “Hey, who do you think you are? Drusilla’s mine. Get your hands off her.”

“Spike, would you please explain this?” Angelus asked, looking at his Grandchilde.

“That’s Warren, Dru’s lastest fuck toy.” Spike looked back at Angelus, curious to see how the older vampire would handle the situation.

Warren was now in front of Angelus, pulling on Dru’s arm and trying to get her away from the older vampire.

Angelus reached out and grabbed hold of Warren’s wrist, squeezing until the younger vamp let Dru go. Then he tossed Drusilla to the side, and grabbed Warren’s head with a hand on each side. “Drusilla is mine!” he growled. With a quick turn, he ripped the boy’s head off and then tossed it to the ground before he ended up with dust on his hands. Angelus looked at Spike. “She’s mine,” he snarled, feeling like he needed to assert his claim on the crazy vampiress.

Spike just shook his head and held his hands up in surrender.

Angelus’ brow furrowed, and he seemed to be brooding for a moment, as he mulled over Spike’s answer. Then, with a vicious grin, he shook his head.

Dru picked herself up from the floor, and was now snuggling up to Angelus, laying her head on his shoulder and stroking his chest with her hand.

Pleased with her show of devotion, he grabbed Drusilla’s arm and pulled her until he was able to grind her hips onto his swollen cock. With his other hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling back sharply until she was bent over backwards, forcing her hips into even closer contact with his own.

Responding to her Sire’s aggression, Drusilla let her demon out. She knew how Daddy liked to play this game, and she was happy to play her part. When Angelus drew her up so he could ravage her lips with a fang-filled kiss, she responded passionately until the blood was flowing from both their mouths. She didn’t care about her cut tongue or her savaged lips, she just wanted to make her Daddy happy.

Ripping his lips from his Childe’s flesh at last, Angelus threw a challenging look at Spike, before picking Drusilla up and tossing her over his shoulder. The insane vampiress squealed with delight as the pair vanished into Dru’s bedroom.

It was barely minutes before dawn when Angelus dressed and left Dru sleeping in her bed. He wanted to get back to his apartment and pick up a few things before making the move to the factory permanent. Sunnydale wasn’t an environment that catered to master vampires of his ilk very often. You couldn’t even buy a decent pair of leather pants in town.

Unfortunately, the sun was creeping across the sky now, forcing the older vampire to travel through the town’s sewers. Angelus hated travelling by sewer tunnel because of the strong smells. Before he’d even gone three blocks, he was wishing he’d just stayed with his Childer for the day. At that point, his thoughts went to Spike. Why hadn’t the younger vampire protested when Angelus took Dru away from him?

Spike always objected. It was one of his Grandsire’s favourite ways to get the blonde riled up. And what did he say about a fuck toy? It must be some kind of bluff. Spike wouldn’t just let Drusilla drop him for another vampire, not if he could do anything about it. Angelus would have to watch his back. Spike wasn’t a fledgling anymore, and could actually present a risk to the older vampire if Angelus was caught off guard.

Angelus smirked when he finally reached his apartment. The door was still partially open, allowing him to sneak in without making a sound. Once inside, he paused. There was one heartbeat, coming from the bathroom. Knowing that he would be undisturbed in the bedroom for at least a few minutes, Angelus went in, found his suitcase, and started packing his favourite clothes. It really bothered him when he lost garments he favoured, like that seven-layer greatcoat he had possessed about the time when Spike was turned.

“Angel, there you are. Where have you been?” Cordelia came out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry her hair. “Don’t you have a hairdryer?”

“Cordelia, Cordelia, Cordelia. Why is it that every time you open your mouth, I get the feeling your IQ drops a few points?” Angel asked, without even turning to face her.

Unaware of the danger she was in, the cheerleader stepped up next to the dark vampire and pulled on his arm, trying to get him to turn and face her. “I just asked if you had a hairdryer. What’s so stupid about that?”

“My mistake,” Angelus said, as he finally turned to face the brunette beauty. “The problem isn’t what you say, it’s that you’re talking at all.” With that, he pulled his arm back and, with all his strength, swung and hit Cordelia on the left side of her face. She flew back through the air and slammed into the wall beside the bathroom door. Angelus then turned back to his closet, and finished his packing in peace. He walked out of the apartment, heading back to the factory, and left the cheerleader unconscious on the floor.

Returning to the factory through the sewers put Angelus in a foul mood, and he was looking for a fight by the time he neared the sewer entrance to the building. His mood didn’t improve when he heard his Childe singing as he made his way into the building. Well, it wasn’t so much the fact that she was singing, as it was the actual content of her song.

“My brave knight will defeat my Daddy. My bold knight will take over the throne. My shining knight will win the princess. My golden knight will forever roam.”

Angelus knew that Drusilla had the sight and, having already thought about Spike trying to ambush him earlier, he decided to take her little tune seriously. Angelus stormed into the living room, grabbing Spike from his seat at the table. “You’re plotting against me? Think you can take me, do you?”

“Hey, let go. Dru is just rambling, like she always does,” Spike said, trying to get out of Angelus’ grip. “You know she’s always talking nonsense to the stars. It doesn’t mean anything, Angelus.”

“Ah, so you think having a soul stuffed down my throat has made me soft, eh boy? We both know that Dru’s predictions are usually right, even if we don’t understand them at first.” Angelus refused to release his grip on Spike’s shirt, and began to hit the smaller vampire repeatedly until he slumped, unconscious in the older vampire’s grasp.