Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not my doing.

Author’s Note: Much thanks to Slaymesoftly, who’s being a wonderful beta, as always.
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Truce

Prologue

Sketches were scattered across the ground and littered tabletops and chairs. The artist didn’t care where they fell, even though he put every bit of detail his photographic memory afforded into each picture.

Half of the sketches were of an old Master Vampire…the artist’s own sire. The other half of the drawers were of a young and vibrant Slayer. Both women were blonde, but that was where their similarities ended.

Angel examined his two newest sketches. They were side by side. On one, Darla’s face stared back up at him with intense scrutiny and a wicked gleam. She had been a mystery since the very first night he had seen that beautiful face. She had always surprised him, always kept him on his guard. Darla had been powerful and wicked in every way. She was well traveled and wise, clever and condescending.

The picture of the Slayer also stared up at him, eyes gleaming with innocent mischief, her smile showing hope and tenderness. She was light and youth, and gentle strength. She had walked through life with a light step and a smile even as burdens of an entire world pressed down on her fragile looking body.

Darla had given him the world and his power. She had shown him things he could never have imagined experiencing as a pathetic human drunk. As a demon, he had loved her for the very things that he had come to resent her for once he’d spent one hundred years with a soul. The memory of how he had staked his sire for the small slip of a Slayer made his borrowed blood boil.

Buffy was the one he had loved with all his soul.

Angelus smirked at the thought of it as he sketched her delicate features.

She had shown him what it was like to be human again. She had brought life to his world. Hers was an innocence and purity that he hadn’t thought himself worthy to touch after centuries of destroying all things pure. She had made him feel like a human being instead of a monster. Now Angelus resented her for that, just as the man he was when he had a soul had resented Darla.

It was an interesting feeling. Part of him was still drawn to the girl. He couldn’t get the Slayer off his mind, and loved the idea of watching her suffer. Thoughts of her plagued him just as much as thoughts of his dusted sire.

He missed Darla. He would never linger or brood over it as he might have before…but the newly restored monster wanted badly for Darla to see him return to his former glory. She had shunned him for good reason. He had been a weakling that couldn’t have killed an infant after he was cursed with the soul.

“Beautiful work,” a voice behind him said. “Or is it your taste in women that makes the artwork so fine?”

Angelus had sensed the presence three minutes earlier, and had been patiently waiting for the stranger to make a move or announce his intentions.

“Spike was right, security isn’t something a minion seems to understand well.” He placed his pencil down and calmly turned his chair to regard the stranger that had been watching him.

His visitor was obviously a demon. If the brown and gray skin didn’t give it away, the large horns that curved atop his head like a ram’s would have. His eyes were almost pitch black, and he wore dark gray robes that covered the bulk of his body. He stood at least 7 feet tall, towering over Angelus; but his expression gave away no intent to harm.

“Now…” Angelus spoke softly, leaning back in his chair and looking calm and regal. “Would you like to tell me why I shouldn’t kill you for coming into my home uninvited?”

The demon smiled, obviously not feeling threatened in the least. He examined some of the pictures and held one up. It was a drawing of Darla, hair spread across the bed beneath her, half her gown torn and in disarray, while on her face there was an almost glowing expression of satisfaction. “Your Sire, yes?”

Angelus narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but otherwise did not answer.

The smile on the demon’s face grew. “Do not be alarmed…though yes, it was more than a lucky guess.” He placed the drawing down carefully, as if it were made of glass. “I know she is your sire because I know who you are. Rumor spreads fast…and the rumor that Angelus has returned to his old ways is not an easy one to ignore.”

“So…what?” Angelus spread his arms out. “Come to see for yourself? I didn’t know I had fans.”

“Of course, you have many fans. But that’s not why I’m here.” He took a step closer to the vampire. “You’re planning to wake Acathla. You are also worthy enough to do so.”

“And you’ve come to plead for the world?” He raised an eyebrow.

Laughing outright, the demon shook his head. “Of course not. I’ve come to help you.” He motioned towards a chair across from Angel’s. “May I?”

He studied the demon for a moment, then nodded towards the chair. “Be my guest. You’ve made yourself at home anyway.”

Not taking the slightest bit of offense, the demon took a seat. His robe seemed to part a small bit before he could adjust it again, and Angel could have sworn he had seen two other clawed hands.

“Now then,” the demon continued. “My name is Zefferus.

Angelus gave a false smile. “Good to know. Now…why would I need your help?”

Zefferus took his time to make himself comfortable in the chair, leaning back in it in a relaxed pose. “For one, you do not know the details of the ritual. You currently have a librarian downstairs who you think holds the answer. He probably does…but you do not need him. I know the secrets to awakening Acathla.”

Raising an eyebrow, Angelus leaned forward and placed his hands together. “Alright, now for the one million dollar question…why would you WANT to help me? What is it you’d want in return?”

He smiled again. “The Hell dimension to which Acathla opens a gateway is my home. I was ripped out of it a very long time ago, and let me assure you there are not many ways back to a place like that.”

“Homesick, is that it?” Angel inquired. “How long have you been away?”

“A good many centuries.” Zefferus’s cheerful mood seemed to be wavering for a moment. “A far deal longer than you’ve been in existence, vampire.” The demon shook of his melancholy with some effort. “I also think we can be of use to one another once the gateway has been opened.”

Curious despite himself, Angelus allowed him to continue. “How’s that?”

“Simple, really. You do not know what you’re getting yourself into, vampire, but I do. The hell you would bring this world to will be never-ending torment for the humans, and a perfect home for the demons, including yourself. But what you don’t realize is my home has its own caste system…and vampires do not rank very high. Compared to many of the demon races there, including my own, you will be nothing. I, however, can change that.”

The vampire smirked. “And at what price?”

“I have made many enemies back home. If I am to regain any ground against them or make a real place for myself, I will need aid. I will need your aid.”

Angelus laughed. “I thought you said I was nothing?”

“But you can be something…with my help. I can give you far more power than you have now…I can give you the power of several Master Vampires.”

Angelus’s interest was piqued instantly, but there was still a hint of suspicion in his voice. “How?”

A slow, wicked smile spread across Zefferus’ face, revealing the yellowed and chipped fangs. “How attached are you to those you sire?”