Warnings: You see more of Buffy's twistedness in this chapter, so proceed with caution.

Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS. Unfortunately...

Buffy made her way home, any and all tension having left her. Billy had woken up. That meant everything should have gone back to nor-

Pain burst in her back as she was knocked to the ground, something having ran straight into her. She looked up into wide gray eyes. "Willow?" Her friend's chest was heaving, eyes wild.

"Um... hi, Buffy. Uh... sorry..." Willow offered a shaking hand.

Buffy allowed her friend to help her up, dusting herself off. "What's up with you? You seem freaked."

"I..." Willow shook her head. "No. It's nothing. Is the nightmare thing over yet? Because, I mean, I saw something, but I'm not sure if it's a nightmare, or reality, because I never had a dream about it, and everyone else said they were dreams, and it wasn't really my worst fear or anything, but it was definitely scary, and it would mean what you said wasn't true."

"..." Buffy blinked, waiting a minute for the words to fully process. "Oh. Yeah. The whole nightmare thing's over. Billy faced his nightmare. What did you see?"

Willow glanced left, then right. Buffy followed Willow's example, feeling ridiculous. They were alone, even if they were in the middle of the street. Everyone was still recuperating from the nightmares. Willow took a step closer, finally speaking in a conspiring tone. "Spike and Angelus. They... they were vampires."

They were that careless? Buffy resisted the urge to stare, silently. She had a feeling that wasn't the right way to handle this. "Are you sure?"

"Positive!" said Willow. "And you know it's true!"

"I... I don't! It's not true. It was probably some left over nightmare, of theirs if not yours."

"But-"

Buffy placed her hands on Willows's forearms. "Don't tell Giles. He'll freak."

Willow narrowed her eyes, pulling from Buffy's grip. "Why?"

"Watcher, vampire," said Buffy, simply.

"So you admit they're vampires," said Willow, matter-of-factly. Buffy winced. Willow continued, "I won't tell, because you asked me to. But... Buffy, it's not right to lie to him like this. To us like this. We need to be able to trust each other."

"Trust?" Buffy repeated. She could remember countless times that Spike had told her to trust him. Angelus had said to not trust anything or anyone outside of her family, and even then to be wary of Drusilla. "You trust me?"

Willow's eyes were sad. "I did. When you're ready, we'll tell everyone else, alright?"

Buffy couldn't place the weird sinking feeling in her chest. "Alright. You go let Giles know everything's alright. I'll go check on Spike and Dad." Willow turned, and walked away, a slight slump to her shoulders. Buffy shivered, suddenly feeling cold.

A drop gathered at the tip of a rock, splashed there from a puddle by shoe-clad feet. It started to hang, before finally allowing gravity to take it. It hit the ground, exploding into little tiny drops.

"Darla!"

The vampire looked up, relieved. She was bored out of her skull, and could only find so much entertainment in The Master's drab cave. He had insisted she stay and wait the chaos up above out, but had otherwise ignored her altogether.

She offered her creator a bow. "Master."

"Closer, my dear," he said, with a friendly little hand gesture. She did as told, shortening a distance of three yards to three feet. "I wish to talk to you of my plans for reaching freedom."

She remained silent, waiting. He liked to take pauses while he spoke, to fully formulate what he was going to say. It was part of his genius. He was never impulsive, unlike every other vampire she knew. She liked to think she had inherited that trait from him.

"I was supposed to have the anointed one help."

"The kid," said Darla, remembering the small, powerful demon. "Where is he?" She hadn't seen him for at least a week.

"Your great grandchild killed him."

Darla rolled her eyes. "Spike." Now she knew why he had demanded what the anointed one looked like. "Do you want me to kill him?" She wouldn't really kill him, despite how easy it would be. Just the thought of living with a miserable, angry, hormonal slayer was enough to turn her off to the idea. Not to mention the fact that Spike helped translate Drusilla's crazy visions. Still, Darla knew she was expected to offer.

"No, that's alright. We have too few Master vampires in our bloodline as it is, without killing them off. After I rise, we'll... persuade him to join us. And Angelus, if he refuses to join.."

Darla kept her gaze blank, even as her mind rushed. She was only being told things she already knew, but hearing it only had it confirmed. If The Master was to rise, there would be no more travelling the world and slaughtering innocents with Angelus. A vampire had to have priorities, and she had already set this one over a hundred years ago.

"For now, we have greater things to discuss. I hear you're housing a slayer?"

Buffy entered a relatively silent house. "Hello?"

"Buffy."

The slayer's eyes were drawn to the base of the stairs. "Daddy," she greeted. Angelus was standing there, hands in pockets, eyes gleaming. He seemed to be pleased with himself. Buffy was worried. "Where's Spike?"

"His room."

Buffy cast Angelus an accusing glance as she walked up the stairs, brushing by him. She stopped at the first door on the right, peeking in. Spike rested at the foot of his bed, usually-pale skin now seeming to be uniformly red, black, and blue. She cringed at what had to be marks from hot pokers, before turning to stomp back down the stairs.

She placed herself before Angelus, hands on hips. Her glare was returned with smug confidence. "Why did you torture him? Couldn't you have found some stranger to take your... creative juices out on?"

"You think I tortured him for the hell of it?"

Buffy remained silent, keeping his gaze.

"As nice as that sounds, I had a reason. He knew that that monster could freeze us with its guts, and didn't tell me. Then he blamed it on me, and tried to attack me. He needed to learn to take responsibility for his actions, and actually give me all of the details in battle."

Buffy lowered her hands from her hips. "And then, on top of all that, he tried to attack you? What is he, an idiot?" She rolled her eyes, turning to the door. "I'll be right back."

Buffy cursed her height. Being on the shorter side made it really hard to see through the crowd in the Bronze. She was just glad it wasn't Friday, or there'd be strobe lights to make it that much harder.

So far, her mission was a no-go. How was she supposed to discern this specific type of person from others?

"...and then I said, hey, isn't that the shirt I donated to Good Will?"

Buffy spun around, eyes zeroing in on a babbling brunette. She pushed her way through a group of teenagers, who swayed to the music as if in a trance. "Cordelia!"

The cheerleader stopped mid-sentence, eyes locking with Buffy's green. "What? Do you want some fashion advise or something? Because you could ask anyone here for some, and it would be an improvement."

Buffy ignored the insult, plowing on. "How do you know if someone's a virgin?"

The girls around Cordelia burst into laughter, Cordelia herself seeming taken aback. "Um, what?"

Buffy sighed, looking back around the crowd. She spotted a girl who looked to be about fifteen dancing with a female friend. The female friend kept glancing at the bar tender with mushy eyes.

Now, how to get the girl to follow her home? I could drag her, or knock her unconscious... No, not going to work. That would cause too much of a scene. So, what should she do?

The answer came unbidden, as she caught sight of a guy dancing with a group of friends. Well, dancing would be a bit of an overstatement. His shoulders were hunched, and he stood like a rigid board, looking completely out of place. He looked to be about seventeen, with short brown hair and gray eyes. She approached him confidently. Hewould do.

"Hey," she said, voice a bit more choppy than she would have liked.

He jumped, head swiveling wildly. He only calmed when he saw her, finally placing the voice. He looked behind him, at her, behind him, and back at her. Seeming to realize that she was indeed talking to him, he said, "Hey."

"I was thinking, maybe I could have this next dance?"

It was a synch. She had persuaded the boy (apparently named Randal) to walk her home after only half an hour. He glanced around, nervously. He didn't realize he was the safest than he'd be for the rest of the night.

She finally stopped before her house. She glanced at Randal, who was looking even more nervous. "I have a phone inside, if you want to call someone to pick you up."

"I... no, that's..." His timid nature won over his attempt at manliness. He nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that. And... and maybe, you and me... we could..."

"Do this again?" she offered, granting him a smile. He smiled back. "Sure." She opened the door, and gestured for him to enter first.

A growl sounded. There was a blur, followed by a scream. Buffy stared in horror as Randal flailed in Angelus grip, not sure if she was relieved or not when Angelus snapped the boy's neck and dropped him to the ground.

"Dad! What did you just do?" She stared down at Randal, or, more correctly, the body. It was bleeding messily over the floor.

Angelus gripped her by the shoulders, yanking her forward a few steps. She nearly tripped over Randal. Angelus' eyes glowed gold, and she wondered what had caused him to get so upset when it was he at fault. "I thought we settled that no humans were supposed to be touching you, especially if they're looking at you like that. What was that just now, a promise of a date?"

"...huh?" Buffy blinked, realization dawning. "No! He wasn't... Dad! He was for Spike!"

Angelus released her, frowning. "What?"

"Spike's can't exactly go hunting like that, and I figured the blood of a virgin would help him heal faster. But now you've just killed Spike's dinner and spilled it all over the floor."

Angelus licked his bloody lips. "That would explain why he tasted so good."

"Yeah, and he wasn't for you. You can hunt on your own, and aren't totally weak." Buffy crossed her arms. "If Spike didn't totally deserve the condition he's in, I'd be really mad at you."

Angelus raised a brow at her, too amused and pleased to get angry. He licked the blood from his hand. It really was good blood.

"Now, I'm gonna go out and find someone else for Spike to eat. Please don't eat them." Buffy tripped over the body on her way out, hands clinging on the doorknob and managing to keep her relatively upright. "And I'm not cleaning that!"

Angelus wondered if he should let the disrespect go, since he had gotten such a wonderful meal out of it. He glanced down at the body, thoughtfully.

Buffy glanced about as she walked. It would be nice to find a nice, tasty meal close to home. She wasn't in the mood to manipulate another guy into going home with her. The current plan was to find someone, knock them out, and then drag them back to her house. Angelus wouldn't even get suspicious, because an unconscious someone is by no means giving her 'wrong' looks.

A shrill cry rang through the air, followed by familiar laughter. Buffy ran towards the sound, and had only gone a block or two when Drusilla came in sight. She held a small baby in one hand, and was speaking to it in riddles. There was a stroller near by, two adults with snapped necks on the ground by it. The crying was coming not from the baby in Drusilla's hand, but from the carriage.

"Dru," said Buffy, looking up to her sister.

The vampiress placed the baby on a bush next to her. It looked very uncomfortable. Brown eyes turned to Buffy for but a second, and the slayer knew that Drusilla knew everything. "Naughty Spike, being rude to Daddy."

"I know," said Buffy. "He doesn't seem to learn very well. I thought he'd know better after the last ten times."

"My prince doesn't bend easily. He needs to be reminded again and again." Druslla scooped up the second infant, this time holding it out to Buffy. Buffy took a step back and away, not wanting anything to do with the squirming thing. Drusilla followed the slayer, once more holding the baby within Buffy's grasp. "This will restore him."

Buffy hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to carry a screaming baby. But, if Dru said it was for the best, it had to be. "Alright. Thanks."

Drusilla nodded, humming as she picked up the original baby from its place on the bush.

Buffy's house was in sight when she found herself under attack. She kicked the vampire in the stomach, taking the buffer seconds as time to put the baby down on the curb. She got a demon-kick to the jaw while she was at it, and managed to grab the foot as it started to pull away. She pulled, hard, the vampire toppling over and hitting the ground hard. She pulled the stake from her waist band, raising the stake and poising it over the vampire's heart. It kneed her in the gut, sending her stumbling off.

"You will die soon," it said, grinning. "Soon, the Master will be risen! You can't defeat him by killing me!"

Buffy punched it in the face. "I'm not trying to. I'm killing you because you're asking for it." With a swift move, she jabbed the stake through its heart. Buffy stuffed the stake back into her waist band, scooping up the baby. The sounds it made were even more ear-splitting now.

Buffy barely managed to get the door open with her hands full of baby. This time, Angelus didn't greet her at the door. There was still-wet blood on the floor, but the body was notably absent. Buffy made her way up the stairs, resolving to feed the baby to Spike before anything else could intervene.

She entered Spike's room, freezing at the doorway. Angelus sat across from Spike, Randal in his arms. Though both were silent and gazing at her, she had a feeling Angelus had been mocking Spike not even two minutes ago. She knelt beside Spike, holding the baby up to him. He winced as he moved forward to bite it, eyes flashing golden and fangs extended.

"Drusilla gave it to me," Buffy informed. "She said it would heal you. I didn't know babies worked the same as virgins. I mean, obviously a baby's a virgin, but that doesn't seem to be why." His lack of speech made her want to speak on and on. That was, until she saw his skin returning to perfection right before her eyes. What had before stayed stubbornly on his skin was now not a trace.

"Cool. I wish I could heal like that."

Angelus tossed Dead Randal at Spike, who caught it with ease. "Clean it up."

Spike opened his mouth, perhaps to complain. Buffy elbowed him hard in the ribs. Spike nodded his ascent. The marks may have faded, but the memories hadn't.

It was nearly morning as Darla made her way home. The Master had suggested she stay the night, but it was important she got home. If she stayed tonight, she might be stuck inside for the next week, listening to the Master drone on. As intelligent as he was, and as lovely as his speeches could be, Buffy was not at all prepared for fighting him. Honestly, Darla didn't think all the training in the world could help Buffy defeat The Master. The fight would probably be over in a second, no matter what they did.

She slowed to a stop, watching as Drusilla cradled a clearly-dead baby to her chest. "Dru, darling, what are you doing? It's nearly daylight."

Drusilla looked up. "Grandmummy! I'm making the angel into a demon."

Darla eyed the baby, then eyed the dried blood on Drusilla's chest. Then she grabbed the baby from Drusilla and ripped its dead head off its dead body. She dropped them to the ground, carelessly, before linking a hand with Drusilla. "Come on."

Another reason why she had to go home. Her family was too insane to even use survival instincts, or common sense.

A.N: So? Whatcha think? Reviews are love :)