Greetings, all. Hope you have fun playing in the new chapter, jumping around in it, sending little squishy pieces flying, grabbing chunks and watching it squirt between your fingers, letting it squish between your toes...

...*Notices silence but for lone chirping cricket*...

Never mind.

Sorry.

~Star Mouse

Flashback to the previous evening....

Buffy returned to the 'Lair', feeling slightly giddy and curiously light. Her tanned childe greeted her shortly.

"Well?"

Buffy stopped. Racked her brain for some sort of lead~in she may have missed.

"Well?" she repeated back.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Did you get it?"

"Get what?" Buffy furrowed her brow, searching short~term memory banks.

"Slayer blood. Duh."

Oh. "Oh. I... forgot. ... I got this though." She held up the book.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow at it. Dust and leather was flecking off at the corners and sides. It smelled vaguely like a dead animal had been turned into a cover for mouldy paper.

"Yum?" she said.

Buffy sighed. She had totally forgotten about the 'killing Spike' thing, in all the excitement of research, and then the excitement of nearly getting killed herself, and then the fibbing, and the talking, and oh shit.

I promised not to hurt them.

She squinted her eyes shut at her own stupidity.

Then her brow furrowed, and she looked up, and around.

"Where's Xander?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Taking our visitor hunting. And where's your coat?" The tone was slightly accusatory.

"My--" Buffy patted her shirt, suddenly realizing just why she felt so light. "Oh, crap!"

Cordelia turned, rolling her eyes again.

"I can't believe this. What kind of Sire are you? It's a wonder I've lasted this long, with you as my mentor. It would have been so much better with West, or even that crazy bitch Anyanka--"

"Hey!" Buffy suddenly vamped, running up behind her sauntering childe and spinning her 'round.

"Don't say that. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious. I was West's childe. It thoroughly sucked and it lasted over a century. You don't have to drink from dead leftovers here. You don't have to take the room with eastern exposure. And you sure as hell don't have to stay." The last was whispered, deadly soft.

Cordelia's retort died on her cold lips.

Buffy forced eye contact, and held it, gold on brown, until Cordelia took a submissive --or sulky-- step back.

Then her brain caught up with her ears.

"Visitor?"

As if cued by some off~screen lackey with a walkie talkie and stage clearance, the door slammed open.

Buffy whirled.

A tall man in black and white, trenchcoat billowing around him, stood framed in the doorway. His spikish dark hair hung around his chin and slightly over one eye, brushing the yellow lenses of his Bono glasses.

He put a hand to his mouth, sucking on the cancer~stick hanging from the first two fingers. When he spoke, in his clipped British accent, the smoke blew out, and hung, frozen, in little spirals around his head.

"Hello, Elizabeth."

Buffy swore her heart jumped to life for a beat. Oh, God. I thought I had more time.

"West," she managed. "Where's Xander?"

West stood aside, turning slightly to reveal the brunette standing behind him, in black slacks and beater.

"Alexander and I have been bonding. Quite the mates, now. Isn't that right, Harris?"

The former Watcher shot the Master vamp a look and quickly, but respectfully, edged around him through the doorway, to stand by Cordelia.

Buffy glanced at him, but mostly kept her eyes riveted on her own Sire.

"West," she repeated. Oh God. If he found out-- No. He can't have. He's here to do his own thing. Oh, God, what if he finds out--?

Finds out I found out...

"Where's Anyanka?" she asked, mainly to alleviate the silence before she imploded.

"Oh, you know," West said, waving his smoking hand vaguely. "She went off hunting alone. She'll be back by sunrise."

"Oh. Good. So...good, that you dropped in like this. Without any warning. You should do it more often."

A sardonic smile hinted around West's mouth, but he hid it by taking another drag on the evil, smoke~spewing little cylinder.

"But Elizabeth, dear. You haven't asked after Dawn."

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "D-dawn? But, last I heard, she was --out. Left the little family for that guy--

"Yes, well. We have, ah, made amends, you'll be happy to hear. She and her 'friend' are back with daddy. The original Scourges, together again.

All that's missing is you, Elizabeth."

"I--"

Buffy's lame excuse was stillborn, interrupted by female laughter.

A black~haired vampiress, dressed entirely in red, wandered up to the door. Her lips were blood~red; there was no telling whether that was a 'natural' effect or lip gloss assisted. But there was absolutely no excuse for that much eyeliner.

"Dawn!"

The vamp turned to look at Buffy, and smiled wide.

"Liz!" She rushed forward to hug her friend of sixty years.

"Mm! I love your hair! Where have you been? Why didn't you go feeding with us?"

Buffy shot a look at Cordelia over Dawn's shoulder. So she really was smarter than she let on. She wondered if her Childe knew how completely she'd saved Buffy's ass with her feigned ignorance.

"I didn't know you were here," she replied, honestly. "If I had, I would have been sure to give you the guided tour." She released the other vampire and took a step back, for perspective.

"There's this great place, The Bronze. It's the perfect feeding ground. More secluded alleys than you can count."

"Oh, thanks, but we managed. Do you remember Oz? He's here, too. It's like a reunion, or something. And now that you're here, it's perfect!"

Her exclamation points were really at odds with her get~up, but people who knew Dawn had learned to distinguish between cheer and Goth Giddy.

Buffy just smiled thinly. It was all she could think of to do.

And now she was desperately trying to entertain four extra vampires in her humble home, while also trying not to give anything away. She wasn't sure how much they knew, and she had to play as dumb as possible.

Hellmouth. Hellmouth. I was drawn here by the Hellmouth.

And the Slayer. I wanted to bag another Slayer.

That's it. That's all. Nothing more. Aimless wanderer, that's me.

Oh God! Where the hell did I put that book?!

Buffy looked up frantically. Most of the others were snoozing, with the exception of Oz. But that was okay. He was ...she listened... playing Stairway to Heaven in the distance.

She looked around. If West found that book... Words could not describe the depth of the shit she would be in.

She hadn't taken it past the entrance. She searched the floor, the sparse furniture, the sarcophagi, all the while checking over her shoulder every few steps.

Nothing.

She checked behind her again, and jumped back from the brunette standing there.

"Buffy."

She willed herself to stop breathing.

"Xander. You-- don't do that."

"Sorry." He shrugged. "Looking for something?"

"Uh, yeah. Big book. Really ...interesting read. Good book. Have you seen it?"

"You mean the one with the--" He trailed off, and looked behind him, in the direction of the slumbering guests. "Yeah. I've got it."

Relief. Utter relief. Her childer were much more helpful than they let on.

"Is it... Safe?"

Xander nodded. "Do you want it?"

"No," Buffy said, weak from complete, utter relief that West hadn't seen that book. "I don't need it until the solstice. Can you keep it hidden until then?"

Xander nodded.

"Good. Thanks, Xan."

"Not a problem. The 'guests'..."

"I'm not sure how long they'll stay. Be careful what you say. And tell Cordelia--"

"I will. Those ones are far too twisted. Hunting last night, the West one stalked a human for nearly two hours. I know about him, of course, from you and the Watcher diaries, but... He goes in for mind games, doesn't he?"

Buffy swallowed, remembering. Her boyfriend drained, his hair cut and swept into a circle, framing his head like a halo in midieval art. Her house burned. A dark~haired man standing in the smoke, offering to end her pain.

"...Yeah."

"Spike?"

The Slayer looked up from the book of vampires. His Watcher continued into the greater library, cradling a coffee cup.

"Didn't your dad say something about dinner?"

Spike's brow furrowed at the seemingly random statement.

"With you?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. With Elizabeth the Black. Didn't he invite her for dinner sometime, last night?"

Spike's eyes widened in fear. "Bloody-- did he? I wasn't paying attention. Oh, for the love of-- I can't do that!"

Willow put her hands in the pockets of the duster. "Have dinner with your dad and girlfriend?"

"Not his girlfriend," Faith corrected. "Elizabeth the Black equals evil dead thing."

There was a pause. "Oh, right."

Angel sighed.

Jenny Calendar took a sip of coffee and addressed Spike. "This dinner could be the only way to keep contact with Elizabeth the Black. If you have the opportunity, you must follow through with it."

Spike rolled his eyes ceiling~ward. "But I don't wanna! She's a soddin' loony tune!"

"Spike!" Jenny's face turned serious, and she set the Kiss the Librarian mug down to fold her arms.

"You have a duty. You are the single chosen one in all the world, whose sacred creed is to slay the vampires and drive back the forces of darkness. And if that entails sitting through dinner with one of them, then so be it. We still need to find out what the hell she's talking about," she added, under her breath.

Sure enough, when Spike got home, Rupert Giles broached the subject of an 'official' introduction to 'that nice girl, Elizabeth', say, over dinner on Thursday?

"Uh, Da, I'd really rather not..."

Rupert looked a bit offended, looking up over his reading glasses. "Don't be silly. If you're going to continue dating the girl, then I want to at least have had the opportunity to ruthlessly grille her regarding her family situation and show her the video of your birth."

Off Spike's shocked expression, the older man sighed. "I was joking, Spike. I swear, it's just a dinner. But a necessary one. For pete's sake, it's customary. She's to bring her guardians, also, if she wishes."

He went back to the paper, as if the case was closed, leaving Spike standing in the doorway to the den, trying to form an excuse.

Nothing was coming to mind.

He opened his mouth anyway, ready to fake his way through it. Without even turning his head, Rupert said firmly, "The phone's on the table. Invite her now."

"Aw, Da!"

This time his father did look up, over the tops of his reading glasses, and regarded his son with a cool eye.

"Now, Spike."

The Slayer knew that look. And hell if he was gon'to fight it. With a melodramatic teenage sigh, he stalked into the room and grabbed up the cordless wall phone that was lying on the table. He started to head off into the kitchen with it--

"Here's fine."

Another sigh. Now what? He didn't know the vampire's number. Bloodsucker probably didn't even have a phone. But if he was dating her, he'd bloody well know it, so he punched in Angel's.

After two rings: "Hello?"

"Hi, uh, Elizabeth, how are you?" He half-turned away from his dad, rolling his eyes at the fireplace.

"Uh, Spike? That's you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'bout the same. How'd, uh, how'd that test go, in Theatre?"

"Dude, what are you talking about? I don't take drama."

"Oh, well that's good. Uh, listen, Liz, my da's wanting you over for dinner on Thursday. Think you can make it?"

Angel finally caught on. "Oh, your dad's right there, isn't he?"

"Yeah, jolly good (bleedin' idiot)."

Behind him, Rupert said, "Ah, splendid!" and got up. Spike whirled, in time to watch him disappear into the kitchen.

"No! I-- Aw, crap, Angel!"

"What? Spike, what's going on?"

The Slayer slumped. "My dad just went to start the roast."

Hope you liked it. I'm sure I'll be getting some entertaining hate mail from W/Ozzers. I don't think there's even such a thing as a D/Ozzer.

Should Oz be a werewolf or a vampire? I haven't yet specified. Maybe both. Is that even a thing? That would be really weird. And I haven't touched on weirdness in this story. *Rolls eyes at self*.

I'm still working on exactly how to characterize Anyanka the Drusilla~like character. She's not gonna be a nutball, but she needs that edge of darkness, and I'm not yet sure how to convey that yet. I'll have it figured out by Chapter seven, though. Never you worry.

If you haven't made suggestions, you have no right to complain.

Check out my other series fic, "Irony Becomes Her." Chapters 17 18 are posted now, with a 19th coming shortly. Quick! Jump on board before it gets too long to read in one go!

~Star Mouse