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Chapter eight: The Death of that Which is Eternal

Drusilla paced back in forth in the darkness. She and Darla had arrived in Sunnydale uneventfully and were soon going to find Spike and his new girls. She didn't know what to think; everything was jumbled inside her head and the voices kept singing lullabies that she had forgotten long ago. She saw Spike in her mind and remembered how innocent he had been when she had sired him. He had been so tragic, so scorned by love, just the way she imagined she would have been if she wouldn't have entered the convent to escape her wicked visions. She could still taste his rich, smooth blood and the thought of him with these new girls, these children, made her grow distressed. Who would be Miss Edith's father now? How could they be a family? She felt no connection to these girls, not the way she felt about Darla, Angelus, and Spike. She entered his crypt, swaying with the motion of a graceful ballerina, crying tears of blood. Darla trailed behind, equally gracefully, but with the disdainful smirk of superiority that Spike always inspired.

"What the bleedin' hell?" Spike cried. Buffy and Willow had already gone out in search of Giles and Xander, but Spike was on his own mission. He had decided that, as a surprise for his girl's he was going to go looking for the wolf and bring it back in chains for willow to play with. THAT idea was bloody well shot now, wasn't it? Drusilla didn't just pop up on his doorstep every day and Darla popped in even less frequently.

" Eh, Blondie, I thought you were dead? Didn't your childe kill you?"

"Well, Spike, I am obviously not dead. I would have thought that even you would be astute enough to make that keen observation."

"Darla, what are you doing here, hmm?"

"Well, Drusilla had a vision that you sired a witch and that the witched actually sired the slayer."

"Yeah, well, my greatness rubbed off on Red, didn't it?"
"We would like to join with you."

Spike was shocked. Darla had always hated him, he figured that he should tell her to sod off, but she was an extremely strong vampire. Dru was crazy, but she had killed a slayer before and might be very handy in the event that they came up against that Nancy boy, Peaches. Spike looked at her appraisingly. He took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit up,shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

"Well, I guess I should"-

The next few minutes were a blur. The crypt door swung open and Buffy somersaulted her way into the room, staking Darla in the back, but hitting her heart perfectly. As Darla exploded into a puff of dust, Dru collapsed onto the floor in a heap, completely unconscious. Buffy looked down at the pile of dust in shock. She hadn't meant to kill her, she knew that Darla wasn't there to fight, and they were both vampires. The trouble was, as soon as Buffy had smelled Darla's scent she had felt enraged. This was the same little demon bitch who had tried to kill her mother, who had tried to steal Angel, who was always trying to cause problems.

"Oops." She said with a pouty expression.

"Oops?" Spike asked incredulously. "You just killed one of your own kind, one of your own BLOODLINE and all you have to say is oops? Do you know how pissed Dru's gonna be when she comes to?"

"Spike, I couldn't help it. Old habits die hard and I just hated her so much," Buffy whined. "Are you mad?"

"Hell, yes, I'm mad!" Spike cried, unconvincingly. The truth was that he hated Darla, too, Dru was so crazy that she'd get over it, and even as a vampire, Buffy really looked hot with a stake in her hand. "Well," he said with a stern look on his face, "I might forgive you if you give me a kiss." With that, the two shared their first real kiss, one of fury and fire, one that sent spike over the edge of passion, until all they could do was collapse to the ground as their bodies melted together.