A/N: Wow! Thanks for the response to the last chapter. You guys are great. If I missed any of my reviewers I apologize. After rereading Chapter 11 (and writing this one), I've decided to bump the rating up. Thanks to those who responded to my question.
A/N 2: This chapter is definitely one of the darker ones, especially towards the end. So you have been warned.
Chapter 13
It's just like before.
Buffy's hand trembled as she reached for the parchment on the stand by her bed. There it was. An innocent bit of paper. Nothing to worry about really. Right?
Her mind flashed back to the last time she received a folded paper like it and the horror that came after.
There was no way she could handle Angelus again, not after what happened last time. She turned it in her hands, debating on rather she should open it or not. Over and over it went, mirroring her thoughts. Did she really want to know what secrets it held? Did she really want the responsibility again?
But in the end, it was never a question of walking away. Angel, and consequently Angelus, was her responsibility. In the end it would come down to her and him, like it always had.
She was just thankful the others hadn't arrived for their morning visit yet and hadn't seen the paper. It would only add fuel to the fire.
She unfolded is slowly, only touching the corners, careful not to smudge the drawing that was revealed. Her face betrayed nothing of her feelings as she took in the figure drawn on the parchment.
"Knock, knock!" the voice came from outside the door. Buffy quickly shoved the drawing under her pillow and pasted a smile on her face.
"And how is our little patient on this sunshiny morning."
"Gunn it's illegal to be that happy in the morning in several states. Don't make me move to one."
He laughed as he sat down, "Don't worry. I bring contraband in the form of caffeine.
Buffy's face lit up as he opened his jacket to reveal the drink hidden there.
"Never mind then, be as sickly-sweet as you want." She snickered, "Although I should warn you that it does nothing for your manly image."
"Silence, woman! It would take much more than that to make a dent in the pinnacle of manhood you see before you." Gunn glanced over his shoulder and looked around, "The, uh, Nazi Nurse isn't around, is she?"
"Real manly, Gunn."
"Anything to see a smile, Buff."
Her smile was genuine this time as she drank in the cappuccino-goodness, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips, "So, where are the others," she gave him a knowing look, "or did you draw the short straw again."
"I'm tellin' ya. The thing's rigged."
"If you say so."
"Your mom wanted to come," Gunn said. "But her meds pretty much knocked her out. Willow is staying with her and Dawn to keep things calm, although I think she got into her own stash of caffeine. Girl can barely sit still."
Buffy nodded in commiseration, "Yes, it has been a long process but we discovered that neither Willow nor Dawn can be allowed mind-altering substances of any kind… or they kinda explode."
"Good thing your mom's unconscious then?"
"You have no idea." She looked around the sparsely decorated room, "So… any plans?"
He shrugged, "Sit here with my girl, make sure she doesn't break out, make sure she doesn't break me in her attempt to break out."
"Now Gunn," she pouted, "you know I would never do anything permanent to you. I'd make sure that everything could be put back together. And even without the use of those expensive specialists they like to use now days," she added.
"And as considerate as that thought is, I'd rather not have to worry about it at all."
"Spoilsport," she muttered.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking her over. "Any better?"
"I feel fine," she said in exasperation, "Just a little twitch every now and then. Nothing that a good slaying shouldn't take care of."
"Permanently?"
"Funny, Gunn. Real funny."
xoxox
It was a bedroom that she led him to when he returned. It didn't surprise him. A whore alive, a whore dead. Nothing had changed except her eating habits. It was all red silk. A vampire cliché if there ever was one. But then, she had always enjoyed the idea of living up to their expectations only to push it to the extreme. After all, what was the point of being dead if you couldn't hurt as many other humans in the process as possible?
While they were cutting a swath of red ruin across Europe, she had concentrated on the aristocracy and clergy in a pointless attempt to get revenge for her human life. She learned early on that she derived the greatest pleasure from tormenting those in the positions of power, although she mainly left the French aristocracy alone. She had once told him that the corruption within the ranks of French nobility appealed to her and she liked seeing them eat each other to death. Why should she help them along when it was so entertaining sitting on the side and watching?
She had thrown herself into one of the chairs the moment they walked through the door after a pointed look at the bed which was for his benefit alone. But he didn't take the hint, or even seem to notice it. Her boy's mind was elsewhere. If she had to guess it would be about the next thing. It was always about the next thing for her Angelus.
"I'm assuming you have a plan for my triumphant return? Or is it all going to fall to me?" he stated blandly as he ignored her and looked out the window into the darkened streets.
Darla chuckled as she settled herself deeper into the plush leather chair, "Why bother? It seems like you have things well in hand with the cheerleader." Her voice took on a lighter note as she remembered, "To see you at your art again. Now that is something to look forward to. And on the Slayer, no less. I wonder how long it will take to break her."
He didn't turn around as he answered her, his tone condescending, "You seem to forget what happened last time, Darla. The Slayer isn't going to be an easy mark. Or don't you remember what happened? Oh wait… that's right. You weren't so solid at the time."
She bristled at his remark and barely held back a hiss of frustration, "And who's fault is that?"
He rolled his eyes, "As much fun as this isn't, that plan you have? Let's hear it."
"Of course I have a plan, my angel."
He turned to face her then, "Really," he replied, his dark eyes smoldering, "Because the last plan you had for me didn't work out too well on my end. I seem to recall the burning agony of a soul being shoved into my body." He tisked in mock censure, "Good thing I have such a high tolerance for the more unpleasant aspects of life."
Her laughter tinkled like the bells as she brushed aside his torment with a wave of her hand, "My boy, you have this horrible habit of only remembering the bad. Think on the good. Think on the girl."
"You must pardon me if I decide to be a bit more choosey this time around, company being what it is."
She tapped a blood-red fingernail against her lips to draw his attention to her mouth, "Yes, well perhaps there was a slight miscalculation on my part. But there's nothing to worry about this time. Drucilla will be able to warn you if any problems should arise."
"Drucilla. You want to bring Drucilla back into the fold. I seem to recall a rather violent confrontation between the two of you every time you were in the same room for more that fifteen minutes." He paused in thought, "On second thought why don't we bring Spike along as well. If there's going to be violence, we might as well make it even more entertaining."
"I'll admit," Darla stated with a sigh, "that your insane child might be more useful than I gave her credit for. After all, it was her skills in seeing the future that led you to her in the first place."
He snorted, "You're serious about this."
"As a heart-attack."
"Those aren't exactly dangerous to our kind."
"Pick any cliché you want then."
He paused in thought and considered her from his position by the window, "Family? That was more of Drucilla's bag of toys. Why are you singing her tune, Darla?"
She shrugged in dismissal, "Perhaps our little killing spree reminded me how much fun we used to have together. Maybe it was a yearning for old times that stirred my desires for more."
"You always did want more Darla."
"And you were always eager to supply me with more. In fact," she practically purred as she rose from the chair and approached him. "I remember a time when my every desire was your only concern. When your entire being was focused on entertaining my every passing whim." She ran her fingers up to his chest and pressed into him, crushing her breasts against him in blatant invitation, "Oh, for the good old days."
Suddenly she was flying through the air, her landing halted when she hit the bed. She bounced once before he was on her, pressing her into the sheets, gripping her shoulders with a viciousness that excited her. "You want another whipping boy, Darla?" he growled into her hair as his hands reflexively squeezed. His lower body ground into the v of her thighs as he inhaled the scent of her arousal.
She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to continue, "Ye—"
Her voice choked off as he squeezed his fingers around her neck. "I think it's my turn to talk Darla."
His other hand made steady work with her silk blouse, simply ripping when a button got in his way. "You seem to think that things are just going to go back to the way they were," his hand clenched tighter in his anger making her eyes roll up in pleasure and her fingers bite into the corded muscles of the arm choking her. He ripped away the tattered remains of her shirt and palmed her braless breast, ruthlessly kneading the flesh there, never looking away from her closed eyes. Her sounds of gratification echoed in the room, "You think that I'll be content to be at your beck and call."
He lifted her head by her throat and slammed it back into the mattress, his hands never leaving her body, "But in all your planning," he spat out at her as the hand fondling her breast moved to the waistband of her leather pants, "you failed to consider the most important aspect of this thing we have here." He tossed the gaudy belt aside and tore at the fastenings of her pants, his fingers digging into her, leaving bruises.
She whimpered in pleasure, eyes clenched shut, so close to the edge. She lifted her hips to make it easier on him to remove her pants, but he pressed his palm into her abdomen, stilling the steady rocking motions she was making.
Finally she opened her eyes to look into his. She had only a moment before her eyes bulged even more as he simultaneously squeezed his fist around her throat even tighter and slipped his hand into her pants to caress at the wet flesh there.
His eyes smoldered with barely leashed fury and lust as his fingers traced a path along the folds between her thighs. She was so close, the combination of his harsh violence and teasing caresses almost pushing her over the edge. She broke eye-contact with him as her eyes fluttered shut, his fingers almost touching her core. Her hips moved against his hand in an effort to reach the peak. Just a few more seconds and she would…
He dipped down to whisper in her ear, "You forget that Drucilla made you."
…and he was gone. A cry of dismay passed her lips as Darla sat up, searching the room for her lover only to find him lounging in the chair she had previously occupied, one leg thrown over the arm of the chair. He was a study of nonchalance. Anger quickly stole over her features, "What do you think you are doing," she snapped out as she made to leave the bed.
"Stop." His voice wasn't loud but it had the effect of a whip crack in the silence of the room. She froze kneeling where she was, half-naked, clothing in tatters around her.
"Drucilla made you. I think it's time you accepted that you are no longer dominate."
Darla quivered with the strength of her desire and anger, "I am your sire! You will do as I command!"
"Were," he said carelessly, "Now you're only one in my line."
She moved closer to the end of the bed, "You would dare to—"
"I wouldn't keep moving if I were you," he said idly, fingers playing with the dagger that hadn't been there seconds before. "You see, I learned the lessons my sire taught me well in how to train a disobedient childe." He eyed her over the edge of the blade, "Some of those lessons I remember very clearly and I can't help but admit that I'm curious to see how they would work when applied on someone else."
He let the silence stretch before them as she weighed her options. No sign betraying his thoughts on the matter one way or the other. He simply waited to see what she would do.
The lust that swamped her was distracting her higher thought processes but not so much that it made Darla mistake the danger she was in. Something had changed in him since they had last met. The cold calculating demon who had been with her before was still there but that energy had never been directed at her. It was disconcerting to be on the end of his malice.
And she knew all too well the tricks she had used on him to gain his compliance on him the first go around. The thought of him using is training on her made her repress a shudder. While it aroused her to no end to see this side of him, the thought of him using her 'training tools' on herself did not appeal in the slightest.
Darla knew it was time to make a decision. To continue on as she had, or accept things the way they were now. And while she raged at the decision being forced on her, she knew that there would be time later to make amends. If he thought for one moment she would allow this trespass to go unpunished he clearly didn't know her as well as he should have.
He saw the decision she came to as her as Darla relaxed back into the mattress, her face falling into the easy compliance that fooled most of those around her. He tisked again, as he slowly rose to his feet, knife still in hand. "Do I look stupid to you?" he asked as he made his way towards her.
His gaze flickered over her prone figure, taking in the fresh bruises against the white of her throat, the shredded remains of her shirt hanging onto her form by mere threads, and the look in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.
The look that promised a painful revenge if he dared do what he threatened.
Of course he dared.
"You know what to do Darla. I'm wondering what it will take to get you to do it. And I'm really hoping it takes a lot," the corners of his mouth twitched in wicked promise at the thought of having to discipline her for her refusal to comply.
She hesitated only a moment, weighing the truth of his words and only finding sincerity in his voice, then raised her arms to the head of the bed.
"Good girl." He used the pieces of her shirt to tie her hands to the bars of the headboard and smirked as he looked her over. The knife was cool as it glided over the skin of her stomach, making her gasp in an unneeded breath.
"Now… let's get started."
Tbc…