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See Prologue for Disclaimer
Part 2
"Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dear friend Angelus. He sure has changed. The last time I saw him, he wasn’t exactly defending Slayers, he was actually fighting them...ah well, things change. I'll have to have a word with Spike about this...actually, it'll probably be a couple of words. Come, Melanie, my sweet. We have friends to see," Leonna said, then turned and walked through the shadows of the night, blending perfectly in, with Melanie in tow.
"Where are these 'friends'"? Melanie asked as they walked above the Hellmouth. Leonna could feel its power in the air, the absolute evil of this disgustingly cute town called Sunnydale. She smiled, a smile filled with malice, and her blood-red lips formed the words she spoke with the same amount of malice.
"Why, darling, I can feel them. We're getting closer. Hurry, hurry."
Within minutes, they stood at the doorway of Spike and Drusilla's new lair, coincidentally another factory. They never learn, do they, Leonna mused, then strode past the guards, who continued to stare out into the street. It was as if they didn't even notice the two new arrivals....
Buffy rubbed the back of her neck as she made her way back out into the waiting room to find Giles there alone, sipping coffee and reading a book he had brought. Glancing at the title, Buffy saw it was in another language.
"Geez Giles, how many languages can you speak?" Buffy said as she warily lowered herself into the chair next to him.
"What?" he asked, not glancing up. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"You sent everyone home?"
"Yes, they were all dead tired. How's Angel?"
Buffy blushed. "Oh, he's fine, did the doctors say when they'd release him?" Buffy asked, rubbing her temples.
"Three or four days if all goes well. Would you like a lift home?" Giles inquired, still totally absorbed in his book. Buffy peered at one of the pictures, which showed a human sacrifice being made on the top of a pyramid. She shuddered.
"No, thanks, I'll walk. I'll be able to get home a lot faster than having you drive me in that...that thing you call a car. Good night," Buffy said, then stifled a yawn and picked up her handbag. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was 1:30 in the morning. She walked out of the hospital and began down the sidewalk in the direction of Revello Drive. She yawned again.
Hope I don’t run into any vamps on the way home, they’ll have to deal with a very tired and cranky Slayer. Plus I really don’t want to ruin yet another outfit, even though this one’s almost gone.
Buffy continued on through the dark streets of Sunnydale, not even allowing herself to think about what could have happened tonight. Angel...no, she wouldn’t even think about it. Shutting her brain down, she walked on autopilot to her house and climbed wearily into her bedroom window. She noticed all the lights in the house were out and her mother had left the porch light on for her.
Too tired to walk all the way downstairs to turn it off, she undressed and slipped into her pajama bottoms and a tank top. She threw the covers back and climbed into bed bone-tired. She shut off the light and as soon as her head touched the pillow she was out.
“Drusilla? Sweetheart, are you in there?” Spike called softly into their bedroom, opening the door slowly and rolling his wheelchair in. Dru sat on the bed, staring off into space, obviously in a place that was not Sunnydale.
“Pet, are you all right?” Spike asked, wheeling himself over to the bed and clasping her hand with his own. Willing her to look in his eyes, he saw that dreamy, spaced-out look she often possessed.
“Where are my daisies? They were right here a moment ago...where could they be, Spike? Here daisies, come to Mum. She’ll make you all better...” she trailed off, returning her gaze to the wall. Spike frowned. She’d been like this for a week now, it had all began when ‘Daddy Dearest’ had been turned back into a human by that stupid little pathetic, whiny, sarcastic, sniveling bitch they all knew as Buffy.
Actually, Spike was kind of glad it had happened--it meant that Drusilla was all his again, no more competition. Angelus had so graciously taken over Spike’s role in her life--or rather un-life. He knew what they had done, he had heard them, their sounds coming from Angelus’s bedroom. His blood still boiled at the thought of his Drusilla making love to another man...
“Spike? What’s wrong, my sweet? I can feel...your hatred,” Drusilla said slowly, looking back at Spike.
“Oh, it’s nothing, pet. It’s just that you’re starting to worry me...you haven’t eaten in nearly a week. You’ll waste away.”
“I miss Daddy....Bring him back Spike,” she whimpered, placing her hand on his chin and making him look her in the eye. She silently begged him. “Do it for Princess...please.”
Spike looked away and suddenly spun around out of Dru’s grasp as he felt a presence behind him.
“Hello, William. Long time no see.”
Groaning, Buffy reached over to grab the glass of water she had placed on her nightstand, and gasped as her room suddenly vanished and she was in another place and century, watching another Slayer. The other Slayer was bruised and bloody, and the vampire that was attacking her wore all black. Her hair was midnight black and her nails were blood red, matching her lips perfectly. She moved with cat-like grace and was beating the Slayer into a bloody pulp without so much as blinking an eye. Terrified, Buffy sat and watched.
She winced as the Slayer took a blow to the face and something cracked, resulting in even more blood spilling down her face onto her torn dress. Buffy could feel the evil in the air, the pure hatred and animosity. Suddenly, as the Slayer tried to get a punch in, the vampire disappeared, only to turn up behind the Slayer, where she grabbed the poor girl by the neck and bit into her flesh viciously, the blood streaming down the sides of her mouth as she gulped. Reaching down with her free hand, she pulled the stake from the weakened Slayer’s hand and shoved it through her back, right into the heart. The girl gave an agonizing scream and fell to her knees, the life slowly being drained from her. The vampire smiled, her yellow eyes glowing, before she again vanished into the night, but not before gazing at Buffy for a long moment. The hate poured over Buffy, and she was chilled to the bone. She blinked, and the vampire was suddenly gone, enveloped once again by the night, and Buffy was left alone in the blackness.
With a start, she woke up, running a finger through her hair and glancing around. She was safe, in her room.
For now.
Spike saw who was standing in the doorway and he immediately tried to get up out of his wheelchair. He couldn’t, and reluctantly wheeled himself to greet the new arrival. Drusilla just lounged around on the bed, a huge smile on her face.
“Now, now, William, I know you’d like to give me a hug, but what with your condition and all...that probably isn’t the best thing to do. How’ve you been?” Leonna asked as she sauntered into the room, her eyes dancing around, taking in her surroundings. “Drusilla, darling, you look fabulous. I’d like you to meet Melanie, my friend. Melaine, my sweet, this is Drusilla. Why don’t you two talk while I attend to some business with Spike,” she said and gave Melaine a little push over to the bed. Drusilla patted a spot, indicating to Melanie that she should sit, and Melanie obeyed.
“Do you like flowers?” Drusilla asked as Leonna and Spike went into the main room.
“That’ll be all, thanks,” Spike said to the morons he called minions. Taking a hint, they left quietly, or tried to anyway, leaving Leonna and Spike alone to talk.
“Now what’s this all about?” Spike asked immediately after he knew they were alone.
“What, I can’t come check on old friends?” Leonna asked, a smirk on her face and her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Well, luv, I won’t exactly call you a friend, especially after you ratted us out to that bitch of a Slayer......what’s-her-face? Francesca?” Spike retorted.
“Oh, darling, I am sorry about that,” Leonna said, her gaze moving dreamily around the room as she circled his chair slowly, with a predator-like grace. “But you seemed to handle her just fine...you needed a little bit of excitement. But that’s all behind us now,” she whispered as she knelt behind the wheelchair, her face inches from Spike’s neck. Slowly, seductively, she walked her fingers up his neck, teasing the skin there. He tensed. “You see, pet, I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh, really?” Spike asked, trying to remain cool and controlled, and failing utterly. “And what might this exciting proposition be?”
“Something I think you’ll be quite interested in.” Leaning close to his ear and resting her hands on his shoulders, she whispered the words, so quietly he could barely hear them. They floated lazily into his ear, filling his head.
“Killing the Slayer.”