Summary: In a land divided and at war between man and demon, what happens when one does the unthinkable and falls for the enemy?

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own the BtVS and AtS characters. There is no intention of copyright infringement or monetary gain in the borrowing of characters. They are used only for entertainment purpose.

Previously on Enemy Mine: Angelous pays a visit to Willow which causes her to remember everything that lead up to that point. Buffy reveals her secret and asks for Willow's help.

Ch 2 - When Sleeping Beasts Awaken

His face morphed and fangs easily breached the resistance of her creamy skin. In one fluid motion, he got off from the bed, the witch securely held against his body and the set of his fangs. His golden eyes glittered with cold calculated intelligence at the slayer as he swiftly processed the best way of escape.

For her part, the Slayer was immobile. She really hadn't thought that Angel would be a threat. If not because it was Angel, then because he was secured with chains. Damn vampire strength! Now she couldn't make a movement against him without putting Willow's life in a more precarious position. As it was, the witch was rigid in Angel's arms, small tremors running along her body. Fear was uncoiling inside Buffy's stomach. If it weren't for her, Willow wouldn't be in danger. How was she going to get her out of the vampire's arms alive?

Buffy's hand twitched in frustration. She was a girl of action and the situation demanded that she act and save her friend. But how? Angel's eyes were intense on her and when she involuntarily twitched, his fangs sank deeper in Willow's neck. That action stilled her even more and she held her breath in horror as she followed thin rivulets of blood slide down her friend's skin. It wasn't until they were absorbed by the cloth of the pajama's top that she snapped her eyes back on Angel.

Too late. Just a couple of seconds of inattention was all Angel needed to make his move and escape. Before she could even cry out, he ran to the doors leading out to her balcony in a blur of vampiric speed and jumped down.

With her heart thudding in her throat, Buffy rushed outside and made the jump down without processing the third story height that jarred her bones. She made a full scan but she couldn't see him anywhere. Dark shadows covered everything and the woods in the distance mocked her plight.

Her stomach was fairly bursting not only with fear now but also with panic and shock.

She had no idea where he had gone.

And where he had taken Willow.

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She awoke slowly. Sound was the first sense that she was able to register. And that in itself was strange since it was its absence of noise that thundered loudly through her awareness. She should have heard at least the movement of the breeze flowing through the curtains, the chirping of the insects, the calls of bird to bird. There was nothing but a stillness that reminisced of time stilled, engulfed in layers of cotton, molasses thick and heavy.

Willow tried to open her eyes but the effort she was expending on such a simple act was enormous. Her body was not responding. There was a heaviness deep in her bones that weighed her down and tried to pull her under again into an oblivion as dark and seductive as death. With a tremendous effort of will, she raised her eyelids by fractions until her blurry sight could adjust and clear. A gray stone-looking ceiling came into focus. Maybe opening her eyes wasn't such a good idea. Where the hell was she? Where was her pale-mint ceiling?

The images came rushing to her mind from one moment to the next, triggering her body to react and jolting into a sitting position. Her hand flew to her neck and her fingers brushed along tender skin, along scabs that had formed over puncture wounds. She gasped for breath. She was alive? She was alive!

Before relief could flood her system, a feminine giggle sounded out in the unknown room and raced across her nerve endings. With wide eyes, she watched a pale, exotic, dark haired woman dressed in a lace dress and clutching a porcelain doll to her chest step into her line of sight.

"Mrs. Edith told me to come see what Daddy had brought home," said the woman in a seductively childlike voice. She giggled again and swayed to a music only she could hear. "Mmm, Daddy is home. Mrs. Edith had told me sure he would return." She smiled and looked straight at Willow, "Mrs. Edith never lies."

Okay, what? Willow felt like she was missing something, not including where the hell she was.

The woman's gaze went back to a point unfocused and she frowned, slightly annoyed. "I wasn't told about you. Nobody told Princess about you." She looked at Willow in expectation, waiting for an answer.

"Um, sorry?" Willow tentatively said, not really knowing what else to do.

"Hmm, yes you should be. Musn't keep secrets. Naughty, naughty." She snapped her teeth toward her and Willow jumped, startled. She giggled again, pleased with the redhead's reaction. Swaying toward her, she contemplated, "You'd make a nice dolly. So much power. A nice dolly for Mummy. Yes, I think I shall like to keep you. I don't think Daddy will mind. Well, not too much. He did eventually let me keep my sweet, dark knight. Wouldn't you like to be Mummy's?"

Willow could do nothing but stare as the woman's pale eyes captured her own in a swirling net of entrapment. She could do nothing as part of her mind acknowledge the face in front of her shifting to eyes of gold, brow ridges and fangs.

Oh crap.

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"I think you're just taking off skin now, gramps," observed a voice from against the wall, near the entrance to the room that housed a natural spring pool.

Cursing was the only reply that came from the enraged vampire as he continued to scrub his body with furious jerky movements.

When the drawled comment of "I think I smell blood" got no response from Angelous, the vampire leaning against the wall decided to change the topic of his observations. "You gave us quite a surprise, you did. Coming in like that all of a sudden. Without a stitch of clothing...chained...holding a human...smelling of Slayer."

Angelous roared his displeasure at hearing those last words. He turned toward his grand-childe showing his demonic visage and growled, "Do not speak of that ever again, William."

"What?" It seemed William was not one to heed warnings. "About smelling like Slay-"

Angelous bared his fangs and in one quick motion jumped out of the pool and lunged at the other vampire, grabbing his neck in one hand and lifting him off the floor. "Do. No. Speak. Of. That. Ever. Again," he bit out, squeezing William's neck a little more tightly with every word.

The smaller, blond vampire held his grand-sire's gaze and after a long moment of complete silence, he was let go, crumpling against the wall from the sudden release. Regaining his bearings, the vampire cautiously stood up to his full height. "All right," he muttered. Then, "We didn't expect you back, you know. Nobody did. Probably not even Dru."

Angelous had walked away but turned his head back at that. "I know."

"S'pose I can't ask how that came about?" inquired the other vampire.

"No," was the harsh response.

William watched Angelous in silence while the other went over to a stone bench and picked up a pair of leather trousers to put on. Not being very good with handling the silence, he spoke again. "It's Spike now."

Coming out of nowhere, the statement made no sense to the older vampire. "What?"

"It's Spike. I'm not William anymore." At Angelous' measuring look, Spike continued in a lower voice. "You should know that better than anyone."

And Angelous did know. The complete difference between his human self Liam. Then his vampire self, Angelous. And finally Angel, the human soul that tormented him, kept him locked away inside himself. Transformations all that forcibly, fundamentally changed him. Angel could no more be Angelous, than Angelus could no more be Liam, and vise versa. Everything changed: physiologically and psychologically. The body. The mindset. The senses. The urges.

He had been all. Prey. Predator. And the in-between, a Shade.

Sometimes lines could be blurred. But most of the time, they couldn't… because some things were just impossible to cross.

"Nice surprise you brought along. What are you planning to do with it?" Spike asked conversationally, not betraying his curiosity toward the young, human female that his grand-sire had brought in like a prized catch to only dump her off to him and forget about her while he roared and raged and practically destroyed the great hall along with minions and captured humans. His sudden burst into the castle, naked, chained and bloodied by cuts and scratches on his skin and the torn soles of his feet had been a sight no one that left unscathed would ever forget. His unleashed fury had been quite terrifying to witness. Never before had he been so mindlessly brutal as those moments. The soul, it seemed, had done quite a lot of damage and nothing but anger had remained. If Spike weren't so reckless, he'd be afraid of his grand-sire's possible insanity.

As if just remembering, Angelous' predatory gazes swung to him. "Ah, yes, the little witch," he said in a low, menacing voice.

Before he knew what was happening, Angelous stalked by Spike and out of the room. Spike could do nothing else but follow him at a distance, curiosity being at the forefront of his mind. He hadn't dared touch the girl more than was necessary when she was dropped into his arms. He wasn't stupid. Angelous had brought her in for a reason, if nothing else, to simply kill her at his leisure. But it was rather surprising, her presence. Her blood had been on Angelous' mouth, his bite clearly visible on her neck, and yet she wasn't drained. Curious. By the looks of it, his newly freed state should have gone immediately for the kill. Who would pass up the first taste of human blood after being caged for more than a century?

Angelous had reached his chamber. Spike had deposited the unconscious girl in Angelous' bed, not really knowing where else to put her. The castle was always swarmed with Aurelian vampires as well as other visiting clans. No other place would keep her until Angelous remembered her but his own chamber, which had stood empty for over a century since he had been gone. Spike, next in line and acting commander since Angelous' absence, hadn't touched it out of fear and respect for the head of the Order that although cursed and absent, still lived and roamed. Spike knew that as long as he was out there, there was a chance he could return.

And he did.

In what state though, would be anybody's guess. As a betting man, Spike figured that he would stop at nothing until he destroyed the Council for what they did to him.

Hmm, that could be fun.

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Willow was sure she was vamp food. She could do nothing to save herself from the vampire's thrall. If she could move to laugh, she would. She felt in a hysterical sort of way that it was really funny that with all the power she could command, she really could do nothing to save herself.

That really sucked big time. Figuratively and literally.

Then suddenly, something crashed open and the female vampire was gone. Willow blinked the hold away in time to witness the female vampire being yanked back and thrust away into the arms of a platinum blonde haired man by a partially dressed and wet Angelous.

Oh dear god.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"Out!" Angelous ordered to the two vampires.

Willow's frightened eyes swung from the general to the two retreating figures and back again. As he moved toward her, she tried to scramble back on the dark bed she was on. As he neared, Willow's breath was coming in faster and faster panicked pants.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…

His eyes turned gold and Willow jumped out of the bed and dashed toward the open doorway, escape her desperate goal.

He lunged and she shrieked when he captured her, both arms holding her against his wet and cold flesh. She flayed against him, kicking and twisting. He violently thrust her away and she landed hard on the cold, stone floor sending stabs of pain throughout her body. She was up before he could move toward her again and she almost froze when she saw Angelous with his demonic visage.

Fear snapped her out of her immobility when he lunged at her again. Only a survival instinct made her remember her magic as she gathered energy from the atmosphere and threw it at him in a small concentrated ball. He hit the opposite wall with the impact and roared in anger. She tried for the door again but he was faster than her and he backhanded her, the blow sending her into a spin and making her hit the side of the bed. Before she could make for another attack, he was pinning her against the mattress and his teeth were latched in her neck.

She cried out. The pain was excruciating. The first time he had bitten her she had been under a trance and so she hadn't felt the whole impact. The bite had been more of a cold shock than anything else when it had forcefully yanked her out of the trance. She had soon afterwards just lost consciousness due to shock, fear and residual aborted magic. This was altogether different.

Her life force was being pulled out of her body. Sucked out in deep, powerful pulls that carried her essence in a screaming, struggling rush. Panic was way beyond her now. She couldn't dislodge the master vampire from her, his whole weight pressing down on her. She was fast losing consciousness, vision dimming and becoming lightheaded. In a move of desperation - a last ditch attempt before succumbing to death - she surged her being in a rush of power out the palm flat against Angelous' chest over his unbeating heart. Her back arched, her eyes opened wide, and she opened her mouth for a scream that was silent as the world dissolved around her.

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The pounding at the door was loud and frantic. Giles barely had his eyeglasses on before the door was forcefully opened and a hysterical Slayer rushed in.

"Giles, you have to help me! " she cried out, tears streaming down her face. She took his arm and was practically dragging him out of bed.

"Hold on, Buffy," he said as he tried to calm her down and get his bearings. Good God, it wasn't even past one in the morning!

"No, Giles, you don't understand! It's all my fault. Dammit, it's all my fault! I asked for her help and now…oh god! I don't know what happened to him. I don't know where he took her. I don't know where they went. Oh, god, Giles! You have to get the team together and mount a search and rescue operation, now! Right now!"

Giles hastily put on his robe over his blue pajamas as he tried to make sense on his slayer's panicked ramblings. She was a ball of frenetic energy as she paced his room and wrung out her hands until her tanned skin was white in stark relief. Her long, blonde hair was tangled and her face streaked with tears. Her own nightclothes were rumpled and hastily placed on her slight frame. The waist of the pajama bottoms was slightly twisted and off center and her lilac top had not completely been pulled down; it scrunched above her chest and left a good portion of her stomach bare. She was barefoot and oddly enough, he noticed, her feet were stained with dirt. He frowned at the picture she made, so incongruous with her normal, everyday, almost impeccable appearance.

"Now, Buffy, what is this all about?" Giles asked, trying to understand. "What is all your fault and why do we need a search and rescue operation?"

"Angel took her," she whispered to herself. Buffy's eyes then turned to Giles, wide in their starkness. "I think…I think Angelous took Willow."

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To be continued: Ch. 3 Mine Enemy