Chapter 3: The Evening After
Buffy awoke for the second time in ten hours. While she'd been psychologically well rested, Drusilla had obviously been worn out because, despite her best efforts, the Slayer had fallen asleep that morning. This time waking, however, she became instantly aware of her surroundings, though she remained still and silent, feigning sleep. And how weird is it not to breath?
Extending her new vampire senses, which differed only slightly from her Slayer senses, she could tell that the other two vampires were still in the room; most likely, since she didn't hear anything, they were still asleep in the bed with her. Of all the places I never want to admit I woke up . . . she thought ruefully of sharing a bed with Angelus and Darla, even as innocent as it had been – as innocent as anything involving Angelus and Darla could be. Wait till Xander hears about this!
A gnawing ache in her stomach made itself know to the girl, and she realized with growing horror that waking up with Angelus' arm around her was the least of her worries. She was hungry.
She was very hungry.
Bloodlust. Damn.
As Buffy contemplated her options, the most important of which she decided was getting away from the two older vampires so that she could find a butcher shop, Angelus stirred next to her, retracting his arm from around his dark-haired childe and rolling over to face his blonde sire.
Buffy chanced opening her eyes just enough that she could peer out from under her – Drusilla's – lashes. Between what she could see, which wasn't much, and what she could hear, which, unfortunately, was too much, Angelus was feeling…libidinous.
Oh, no, no, no! Buffy thought frantically, realizing that the two older vampires were going to have sex right next to her.
Although she and Angel had never spoken about it directly, Buffy had gathered from a few offhand comments from Spike and various researching that evil Angel – Angelus – was a horndog of the type that would put every man who'd ever fancied himself a playboy to shame.
I guess it could be worse, she decided, resigning herself to block out what she could of the other two's activities. He could expect the same from me.
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Cordy awoke to feel someone pawing at her.
"Darla," a low, masculine voice said suggestively. "Wake up, darlin'"
As the weight of another body shifted partially over hers, Cordelia's eyes flew open, and she tired to remember where she was and what was going on. Seeing the face of her best friend twisted in a leering, lewd manner directly over hers and realizing it was his weight she felt pressing her down into the mattress, she almost panicked.
However, as she opened her mouth to tell Angel off, a little bell rang in her head, reminding her that there was something she wasn't remembering, something that would make what she was about to say a very bad idea. She clamped her mouth closed as she remembered the events of the previous evening – er, morning.
Well, crap! the seer thought. This is a fine mess! Cordy held no illusions that Darla and Angelus had had a very active sex life when they were together. Not to mention the apparently reactivation of said sex life during Angel's "beige" period. What do I do? I can't have sex with him, but I can't exactly hear Darla saying, "Not tonight, honey. I have a headache." Crap, crap, crap.
Suddenly, she remembered. Drusilla! From what she remembered about Angelus' reign of terror in Sunnydale, he and Dru had been at each other like Fred on tacos – and really, now that she thought about it, that was kind of a gross analogy. But that didn't make it any less true.
Dialing up her inner bitch, Cordy shoved Angelus off her and sneered, "I'm really not in the mood, dear." She placed extra emphasis on the "dear" making what would be an endearment between normal people, something between an insult and a reminder of her position as elder in the relationship.
Angelus appeared slightly surprised for a second before recovering and pouting at the woman. Internally, Cordy rolled her eyes. The big, evil Angelus pouts. Who would have thought? Wait till I get home. He's never going to hear the end of this!
To the other vampire, however, her expression remained cold and unmoving. Cordy kept her voice carefully disinterested, as if she didn't think for even a moment that Angelus might disobey her. "If you're so worked up, why don't you play with Dru?"
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What?!? Buffy almost jumped out of the bed when she heard Darla rebuke Angelus and suggest he "play" with her instead. No, no, no! I can't have sex with him! But how am I going to get out of it? I'm pretty sure that while he'll take it from Darla, "NO" won't suffice for Drusilla. As the thoughts raced though her mind and she remained frozen with indecision, Angelus turned and was already hovering over her.
Although Angelus had yet to make any really threatening moves, Buffy was suddenly overwhelmed by memories of another vampire who had wanted sex from her that she wasn't willing to give. Without thinking about her reaction, or that it might blow her cover, she lashed out.
Angelus abruptly found himself curled on the floor past the foot of the bed, his jaw aching from the right hook Drusilla had hit him with, his groin throbbing from the swift, powerful knee it had received, and his stomach slightly painful as an afterthought from the foot the younger vampire had used to kick him off of her.
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Cordelia watched the exchange, her eyes wide. She was hit was a trainload of remorse for suggesting Angelus turn to Drusilla. After all, during her time in the higher realms, she'd seen what he'd done. She'd experienced it. And Drusilla's torment had been some of the worst. She knew that Angelus had rapped the girl, brutally and horribly. Seeing her reaction, Cordy couldn't believe she'd been so thoughtless.
Angelus rose from the floor, his eyes clouded with rage. Cordelia shivered at the sight and knew that whatever punishment he was planning for Drusilla was going to be far worse than his "affections" would have been. While Angelus was capable of great evil, she'd sensed that he'd been in a rather playful mood earlier. More than likely, he wouldn't have hurt Drusilla.
And that matters how? an outraged voice in the back of Cordy's mind demanded. You're right, the woman conceded. A fresh wave of guilt swept over Cordy for even thinking such a thing and she grew determined. I have to protect her.
Forcing a mirth she didn't feel, Cordy let loose a loud and boisterous laugh. "Oh, leave the poor girl be, Angelus," she said. "I haven't been this amused in quite a while."
"She needs to be reminded who's got the power in this relationship," Angelus nearly growled.
"Oh, I think she knows who holds the power in this family," Cordy said meaningfully, hoping it was enough to remind the angered vampire that she, or rather Darla, could pull rank if she wanted to.
Seeing Angelus wavering, Cordy scooted across the bed so that she could lay her arm across Drusilla, claiming the younger vampire under her protection.
"Why don't you go kill something?" she asked. "Some of us need to finish getting our beauty sleep." Cordy closed her eyes and laid her head down, effectively dismissing Angelus.
It was only after the door slammed shut behind him that the seer realized the aggression therapy that her Angel usually engaged in involved only killing demons. This Angel wasn't likely to be as discriminating.
A fresh wave of guilt assaulted the seer. Which is worse? she wondered. Allowing him to hurt Drusilla or setting him loose on an unsuspecting population?
Or sleeping with him yourself and avoiding the other two?
Crap.
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Buffy lay still, fighting to keep the tears from breaking through her closed eyelids. She'd known as soon as Angelus hit the floor that she was in for a fight. Of course, she'd prefer he hit her any day to the other.
She was surprised when, as soon as Angelus' footsteps faded away down the hallway, Darla retracted her arm and rolled away from her. Buffy had feared for a moment that she'd fought off Angelus, only to be left with Darla. Not that there was anything wrong with that sort of thing, if you were into it. But she wasn't. And it was Darla. Eww.
"Thank you," the Slayer whispered into the air, not turning to look at the elder vampire, but feeling a need to express her gratitude.
"You're welcome," Darla replied softly, to Buffy's surprise. Certainly in everything she'd ever heard about her, Darla had been a Grade-A Bitch, but Buffy actually knew very little of the relationship between Darla and Drusilla. Perhaps it was more sisterly and protective than she'd first thought.
As Buffy watched, Darla rose from the bed and began ruffling through the closet, looking for a clean dress. Selecting one, she pulled it out of the closest and glanced around before shrugging. She quickly changed, leaving the layers upon layers of petticoats underneath the current dress in place before slipping on the new one.
"I'm going out," she announced. Before Buffy could wonder if she was meant to accompany Darla, the blonde continued. "You can't come with me, but I'd suggest you go somewhere and don't come back until dawn. I'll be back then, but if I were you, I wouldn't want to be alone with tall, dark, and pissed-off if he comes back."
Buffy only nodded, not sure of how to respond to this continued kindness from Darla, nor the sarcastic, almost caustic reference to Angelus.
The blonde rooted through a pile of cloaks that lay over a chair until she found a small, drawstring purse. Taking it and grabbing the woman's cloak on top of the pile, she quickly left the room.
Buffy waited until Darla's footfalls had faded before springing from the bed and moving to the closet. She had internally winced when Darla had taken the purse. Money was something she hadn't even considered. Maybe Dru has one too, she thought, not really expecting it to be true. After all, if Dru lived with her she'd hardly allow the nutty vampire to control her own finances.
Having changed into a fresh dress, Buffy set to searching the room for other money or something she could sell or trade. Let's see, what would a butcher trade me for? Maybe a nice cleaver. Can't believe there isn't one of those just lying around here! she thought sardonically. Finding nothing, Buffy resolved herself to the possibility of having to steal blood to survive. Well, better than killing, I guess.
Taking the other feminine cloak from the pile, Buffy headed out the door and into the night.
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A/N: Yay for reviews! Thanks especially to Anne Rose, Lora Darcy, North Star, Joyce, Cindy, Rori, and of course, my good friend Winter for your kind and encouraging reviews. I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a downer. The next couple chapters are more with the funny and less with the serious.