Title: Pi

Author: Liz (AKA Willow)

Author's Notes: This is alternate reality, containing no spoilers. It will hopefully portray true characterisation. Original characters may/may not be written in.

Rating: MostlyR – NC-17 might be posted on another site. It'll get dark, it'll get angsty, and it'll get risqué. Be prepared.

Disclaimer: Not mine; don't sue the poor ones.

Summary: In an alternate reality, the Slayer and her friends are able to imprison all vampires and demons near the Hellmouth. But one wise vampire is about to change everything – maybe for the better. After March 4, Angelus will finally gain his revenge…and maybe the body and blood of his slayer.

-----------------------------------

To find the:

Circumference of a circle - PiD or 2Pir

Area of a circle - Pir²

Importance of a day -Pi

Prologue

3 14, and I'm out.

3 14, and the guard's smug smile will be wiped off his face, replaced with splattered blood, broken bones, torn earlobes, missing eyeballs...

3 14, and the town will be consumed by mothers' screams, men's shouts, children's cries. God help us all, oh my Lord, protect the women, lock your doors, how did this happen, call the council, aid the slayer, don't hurt my baby, take my money, why are you doing this? Fear, panic, salty tears, crimson blood, unwanted sex smelled in the air everywhere – a vampire's high, humanity's low.

3 14, and my buddies and I will be having the feast of our lives; pure and fresh blood of new-borns, of young'uns, strong men, feisty women, powerful Wiccas, noble Watchers. The blood of the Slayer.

3 14, and I'll take the best shower of my life. I'll bask in baby's blood, rinse with hot, steaming water, go to sleep with the Slayer whimpering by my side. "Please, let go of me. Don't do this," she'd say. And I'd laugh in her face – a full-hearted laugh, because I'd been suffering for all these years. In a place where there's vomit in the corner of the cell, cement for me to sleep on, a leaking pipe providing a few drops of water to rinse the grime off my face, the dry blood off my back.

And I'd do anything I'd please with her – make her cry in pleasure, writhe beneath me in passion, scream from my harsh bites, shriek from the suffering. And I'd laugh.

3 14, dubbed the Vampire's Independence Day. The day when we will be liberated; the day we make history...end. No one can stop us.

No one.

Not the Wiccas, nor the Tweeds. Not the Council, nor the Slayer.

3 14, and we're free. 3 14, and we're kings.

Counting up from 3 04. Ten days, and kiss your lives good-bye.

It's all just a matter of time...

-


-

Chapter One

The Slayer designed and built this place for me and my kind about two years ago. Captured every fucking vampire and demon in the state and put us here.

She's a smart one, that Slayer. Very, very smart and very, very feisty.

The Slayer and I, we go way back. You can say we're close. I mean, I killed her first Watcher, she killed my mate. I killed one of her friends and she killed my second in command. We try to keep our relationship strictly business.

She visits me sometimes. Puts a small, cushioned chair in front of my cell and sits her supple ass down. She smiles before starting, looking toward the small, golden plaque she made especially for me. It hangs on the edge of my iron cell door, just above the entrance. "Angelus," she had engraved on the surface of the smooth sign. It gave her a kick, seeing me displayed like a dog that needed to be locked up in a cage to be calmed down. Just give me a few days and I'll have her chained to my bed. Let's see whom smiles then...

She mocks me, and I keep quiet. She thinks I get frustrated with her comments so she continues. And I chuckle, cause she's making the situation worse for herself. 'The more the mock, the more the fuck' is my motto.

I remember one day, when I spoke back to her. I told her to wait for the day when I'd be out of the jail; that I'd bang her so hard and for so long like there'd be no tomorrow. That she'd be screaming my name as if it were an urgent prayer that needed to be answered. That we'd screw and she'd like it. She'd love it.

She got scared then – I could see it on her face. I grinned happily, gloating over knowing her biggest fear. "It's not going to be that bad," I had said to frighten her more. And that's all I remembered, really, because the fucking bitch took out the syringe of poison she kept in her pocket that had sedated me for a long, long time.

"Naughty Daddy, you mustn't frustrate yourself over that one," Dru states, wagging her long, manicured finger at me. "The stars! Shine, shine, shine, loves," she chants as she stares up at the ceiling. "The moon is dancing on its toes, pretty fairies singing folk. Free, they sing. Free to catch, free to play, free to walk on liberty day. Miss Edith gets antsy by the minute. She'll not be joining the fun. Free, free, fly my little fairies! Fly..." Dru whispers from across the room, falling asleep against the cold cement, her vomit corner just to the right of her.

I smile wickedly to myself. Dru's stars shine. The fairies are singing -- whatever the hell that means. It's understandable if you're not able to understand Dru. She's one multi-dimensional cat. But I know what she's telling me – the Slayer will be coming beneath me in a matter of days…

"Now, now. You won't be bloody selfish with the Slayer, will you, Angelus? How's about a shag or two with the chit and I'll give her back. Or maybe you'd like a threesome afterwards. I know how you love that kind of thing; we haven't enjoyed one together since '94. We can have an orgy, if Dru wants some..." Spike rants as he lights a Camel and looks at it thoughtfully in the cell to the left.

"Shut your fucking dirty mouth before some curious foolish guard hears you. The Slayer is mine, hear me? You don't screw her; you don't obsess over her. You fucking touch a finger to her skin and you'll be swallowing your prick. Understand me, damnit? I've worked for too long and too hard to allow you to screw this shit up when we're so close to getting out," I whisper harshly as I glare at the fucking fool.

"Oh, shut your gob and wait for your food. Bloody poof."

As if on cue, the ceiling 5 feet above me starts to buzz. I take a quick glance at the digital clock the guard had hung up above the entrance to our wing of the prison -- nine o'clock PM. Breakfast.

I look up expectantly at the plain white ceiling and lick my lips when a small hole a half a foot in diameter opens. My eyes follow the blood bag as it drops directly in the middle of my little cubicle.

Spike scrambles for his own bag that has dropped into his cell and chuckles hungrily to himself. I sit down like a good demon and play with the smooth plastic bag, relishing in the feel of the warmed liquid that I've been waiting weeks for. The prison, they feed us once a night. Don't think they're too generous…they spike the blood inconsistently more than once in a while. Slayer…Psh! Such a hot, intelligent slut. She springs surprises on everyone she keeps here. She indulges in our suffering - sits back and enjoys the show while we're constantly confused when she pulls a trick on us. She makes my kind look like fools.

Spike has already vamped out, my grand childe's fangs glistening in the fluorescent light. He puts his fangs up to the plastic bag, ready for the "kill."

"Uh, uh, uh," I chide in a singsong voice.

Spike turns his face back into its uglier form and looks down at the plastic bag thoughtfully. "You think mine's spiked today, Angelus?"

I chuckle. "Willie specifically said yours and Dru's have been spiked. As for mine…" I trail off as I spin the bag in my hand, carefully studying it. I look at the big "Blood Bag" sticker placed on the face of the plastic, and carefully peal it off the smooth surface. As inch by inch is revealed my grin gets wickedly wider.

On the back of the sticky paper, Willie's chicken-scratch scrawl is revealed:

A -

3.14 is underway. March 14th 3:14 AM - Binding spell on Hellmouth will be broken. Doors of prison will unlock 3:15, followed by immediate power loss. As guards and slayer look for cause of outage, you will be able to exit the prison. Transportation awaits you and your group at side entrance of east wing. Worry about nothing except getting to transportation. Be safe.

For the first time in a while, my lips turn up into a genuine smile.

Spike grows uncomfortable and stretches his legs. "Anything the matter, Peaches? Smiles just don't work for you."

"Get used to it Spike," I say as I vamp out and bite the bag. The nostalgic flavour drifts rapidly into my mouth, and I guzzle the warm liquid quickly.

You'll be seeing it a lot more...

-

TBC.