A/N: Sorry for my less-than-timely progress. I've been feeling lazy and uninspired. I'll do better, I promise. For those of you who've reviewed, or added me to your alert list, or to your favorite author list: thanks for the warm fuzzies!

Chapter 3

Willow was seated at the table in the school library, patiently waiting for Giles and Buffy to arrive so the Scooby Meeting could begin. To her left was Cordelia. To her right, Xander. Unsurprisingly, the cheerleader was nattering on about something or other.

"I don't appreciate being kept waiting blahblahblah shoe sale at the mall blahblahblah why do I even hang out with you losers blahblahblah oh my god a stain blahblahblah eww, Xander smells like feet blahblahblah Willow, I need you to write my history paper blahblahblah…"

Willow couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her fists down on the table. "Shut up, Cordelia!" She began chanting in some foreign tongue and suddenly Cordy's mouth disappeared.

"Mmm mm mm, mmmm!"

"I like you better this way."

"Mmm mmmmmmmmm!"

Xander picked up a book and dropped it on Willow's foot.

"Ow!"

He did it again.

"OW—"

Willow awoke with a start. Someone was kicking her foot repeatedly. She kicked back out of reflex and it stopped. As the fog lifted from her thoughts, Willow realized a few things: she was tied to a chair, she had a rag stuffed in her mouth, and she was flanked by Cordelia and Xander, who were likewise bound and gagged.

What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks? How did I—we—get here? Willow racked her brain (think, Willow, think!) and finally remembered. She was walking home from Buffy's house. There was a noise. She turned. An arm slipped around her throat. Can't breathe! Then a whispered, "Time to sleep…" followed by darkness.

A tear slipped down her face. She shook it away.

Stealing a glance at Cordy, Willow observed her staring directly ahead and screaming muffled obscenities. Then, turning to Xander, she saw his eyes wide with fear. When she finally caught his gaze, he tilted his head repeatedly, urging her to look forward.

Willow did so, and noticed they were in a large, dimly-lit ballroom. She might've found that remarkable had not the two vampires standing before her monopolized her attention. Spike stood with arms crossed over chest and feet shoulder-width apart. Drusilla had her arm around the bleached blond, a finger tucked coyly between her lush lips. Both were wearing their game faces.

Willow made a small noise in her throat.

"Oh, my sweet William," Drusilla simpered, "this is a great night for our family, and for the Order of Aurelius!"

"We'll see about that, luv. They don't look like much to me."

"They may not be much," said Angelus as he strode into the room, "but they'll be enough." He dragged a chair over before the three humans and straddled it. "Now then, I bet you're wondering why you're here. Two reasons. First, I made a bet with Spike here regarding a certain blond slayer, a bet I intend to win. You three can help with that. When she sees what I've done to her precious Scoobies, it might just fuck her brain into oblivion. That's what I'm shooting for, anyway. Now, if I were a less ambitious man, that might be enough for me. But I'm not, and it isn't. Y'see, lately I've been reminiscing about the old days, when Darla, Dru, Spike and I cut a bloody swath through Europe. Did ol' Rupe ever talk about that? About how we used to drink entire villages? No? Doesn't surprise me. If pride is a sin, then the stuffy old fuckers on the Watcher Council must be the worst sinners in all the world. No, they'll never talk about all the skeletons I left in their closet…"

"Get to the point," Spike growled.

Willow was inclined to agree. She tried to ignore the drool leaking from the corner of mouth.

Angelus stroked his chin in contemplation. "The soul cost me a hundred years. That's a long time, even for us. A lot of missed opportunities. Well, I plan to make up for it right here, right now." He spread his arms and smiled toothily. "Welcome to The Scourge, version 2.0! Better, stronger, faster!"

Spike snorted. "Can't improve on perfection, mate."

"A psycho, a poet, and a whore? Yeah, that's some kind of dream team. And yet, it worked so well for us all those years. That's why I'm gonna stick to the playbook and adopt these three. Psycho, Poet, meet Cheerleader, Buffoon, and Nerd."

Drusilla cooed happily and waggled her fingers at the three humans.

Angelus stood and addressed his childer. "Tonight you may do with your charges as you please. Beat them. Cut them. Bind them. Fuck them. I don't care. Just make sure you bite them before the sun comes up. I need these three thinking bad thoughts when we make the rounds tomorrow night. Understood?"

Spike and Drusilla both nodded their assent, their faces rapturous at the prospect of dark delights. Dru wasted no time untying Xander and hauling him to his feet. She leaned in and crushed her lips against his. Xander shuddered, not entirely out of fear. Willow felt a pang a jealousy. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to turn Drusilla into itty-bitty dust motes.

Angelus must've seen something on her face, because his expression turned sly. He winked at the redhead, and she resisted the urge to vomit.

Drusilla stroked Xander's hair. "Come, darling. Come join Mummy and Edith for tea." The insane vampire led the hapless young man out of the ball room. He went with a minimum of struggle, much to Willow's lament.

Spike watched them go, his expression mirthful. "I don't envy the whelp. He's in for a long night." His demonic eyes swung to Cordelia. She had long since exhausted her supply of naughty words and now sat hunched and trembling. When she realized the attention of the blond vampire was fixed on her, she let out a whimper. This pleased Spike immensely.

He loomed over the brunette. "Now what shall I do about you, pet?" He stroked her cheek with a black-lacquered fingernail and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ear. "Y'know," he purred. "I've always wanted to shag my way through the entire Kama Sutra in one night…"

Cordy's eyes were very wide now.

"…but that'd probably kill you, and not in the way we want. Ah well. Guess we'll have to see how far we can get before you pass out."

Spike untied her and dragged her toward the door. Cordelia did not go quietly.

Low chuckling filled the room. The sound made Willow want to run as far as she could, as fast as could. Since that wasn't an option, she braced herself and met the golden gaze of Angelus.

"Tell me, Red. Have you ever heard of Saint Andrew's Cross?"

Willow gulped and shook her head.

Angelus knelt by her chair, whispering, "It doesn't burn, but it does…sting. I have one in my chambers. Let me show you."

Oh goddess oh goddess oh goddess…

***

Buffy slept in the next morning and awoke feeling refreshed. After brushing her teeth, she bounced down the stairs to find her mom reading the Sunday paper.

"Anything interesting?"

Joyce looked up. "Well, as you can imagine, The Bronze is the big story."

Buffy's mood went south. "Oh, right…"

Joyce noticed the change. With a determined expression, she folded the paper and pushed it away. "What do you say we get out of here? Do something fun?"

That coaxed a tiny smile from the younger woman. "What do you have in mind?"

"Sun and sand and fruity drinks. Let's hit the beach!"

"Mom, that's the best idea I've heard in days! I'm gonna call Xander and Willow."

Joyce put a hand on Buffy's arm. "I was hoping today could be our quality mother-daughter time, if that's all right with you?"

"Oh. Okay. Gotcha. Sure, I'd like that!"

Joyce smiled and pulled her daughter into a hug.

***

That evening…

Rupert Giles was sipping single malt and thumbing through and old grimoire when there came a frantic knocking at his door. Bitter experience had taught him not to dally, so he slammed the scotch and the tome down on the coffee table, sloshing one onto the other, and hurried to the peephole.

It was Willow. Minus her shirt. Giles undid the bolt and threw the door open. The diminutive redhead stood there with her pale arms crossed over her milky breasts, swaying and shivering like her namesake.

"Willow. Oh dear. Come in, come in!"

"Th-thanks, G-G-Giles."

Giles guided her to the couch, draping a blanket over her bare shoulders. Very shapely, he thought. She stared at him with wide green eyes. "Willow, what on Earth hap—"

The watcher realized his eyes were drifting southerly to the bountiful cleavage on display. He shook himself. "Um. Hold that thought while I fetch you a sweater."

Giles scurried off down the hall, wondering at his behaviour. And wondering when exactly the sapling had flowered. Was he that oblivious to a beautiful woman? Suddenly, Rupert felt old. With a sigh, he slipped into the bedroom and began pawing through the clothes in his dresser.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Willow shrugged out from under the musty blanket and rose to her feet, stretching like a cat. She indulged for moment in the delicious sensation of cool air on naked flesh, then sighed happily and slinked to the door. Flinging it open, she beckoned the five vampires milling about the courtyard. Her new family.

"Cordelia, Xander, Drusilla, Spike…Sire…please come in." She stepped aside and waved them through the entrance with a flourish. On her way in, Cordelia smirked and trailed a finger over the tops of Willow's breasts. The partially-nude redhead moaned appreciatively. The others leered as Angelus paused to kiss her deeply.

"Well done, my darling," he rumbled, sending shivers down Willow's spine. Composing herself, she closed the door.

There was a noise from hall. Rupert Giles. The reason for this little excursion. "Willow, I've located a garment you may find OH MY LORD!" The watcher was frozen in shock near the kitchen, his mind desperately trying to process the tableau in front of him.

There in the corner was William the Bloody with Cordelia hanging off of him, her slender hand tracing patterns on his chest. There on the couch was Xander with Drusilla sitting daintily on his lap, her fingers sliding playfully through his dark hair. There in the middle of the room was Angelus with sweet, innocent Willow displayed wantonly before him, his large hands cupping her mounds, thumbs and forefingers tweaking her rosy little buds.

Giles then noticed her rapturous expression and decided perhaps he ought to amend the 'sweet and innocent' part. A horrible thought occurred to him. "Oh no," he muttered softly, "oh please no, not that."

Xander smirked. "'That?' You mean this?" He called forth his demon aspect, pinning the watcher under his bright yellow gaze. The others followed suit, donning their game faces.

The watcher's heart broke when saw what the Scoobies had become. He let out a strangled sob and leaned heavily against the kitchen counter. He knew he should be scampering for a stake, or a cross, or a vial of holy water, but grief paralyzed him.

Willow glanced at her sire hopefully. "Play now?"