Disclaimer: Joss owns them all, I’m only having fun.

Author’s note: *Hugs* to Bloodytearsoflife, who rocks and who worked hard getting this chapter unconfuzzled. Thanks to Bubble_Blunder, Opal, Chanel 5, Wulfie and CM for the fab reviews!
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Chapter 9: Holidays

Drusilla wasn’t happy to find out that her fuck buddy had been dusted; the wailing could be heard for days. Days in which Buffy loathed to go back to the mansion after school.

What Damien had said though, was true. Faith was killing the minions faster than they could rise. For Buffy, this wasn’t a problem; she hated the minions, but it posed a increasing problem to Spike, who, though in name they belonged to Drusilla, was running the whole show.

As the days wore on, Buffy was increasingly aware of the anger the remaining minions held towards her. The men vying for Damien’s spot in Drusilla’s bed, warily eyed her, expecting her to be their enemy as well. She had been a Slayer, she had killed their kind. And to make matters worse, she refused to feed from humans.

The rumours that floated about the mansion told stories of how she had her soul, how she was an abomination.

Spike sent her understanding glances and did his utmost to defend her reputation and honour, but it was an uphill battle. The minions took their lead from Drusilla, who constantly was spouting maniacal phrases about ‘Baby’ being wrong.

Buffy still didn’t feel that she had come back wrong at all. It was an overwhelming feeling she couldn’t ignore. And she wanted answers.
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Buffy found herself watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade with Willow and Xander, avoiding her mother who was cooking massive amounts of turkey in the kitchen.

“So how are the minions?” joked Xander, his mouth full of popcorn.

Buffy groaned. She had been keeping her friends apprised of the whole situation. They didn’t really understand, they were used to killing vampires in general and that was the end of the story. Buffy had this feeling that they still weren’t totally ok with her being one of them.

“You mean they aren’t decking the halls and sharing in the Christmas cheer?” asked Xander.

“Oh there’s decking, and the occasional cheer,” Buffy replied sadly. “Sometimes though...They don’t like me, I don’t like them, I can’t honestly understand why anyone would want to live like that.”

“You live like that Buffy,” said Willow, filling her mouth with popcorn.

Buffy ignored the comment. “I just wish I could find out if I really did have my soul or not...”

“Oooh!” Willow perked up. “I can do it, let me do it. I’m a witch now you know.”

“Ya I got the memo Wills,” said Buffy with a smile.

“Why do you think you don’t have a soul Buffster? You’re like the female version of the brooding wonder, except without the brooding, or the overly gelled hair,” added Xander.

“Because if you guys hadn’t been there for me, I think I’d be snacking on the rest of the population. It’s like you guys are my conscience,” said Buffy very seriously.

“Aww!” cooed Willow, moving in to give her friend a hug.

Buffy hugged back. “So you’ll do the spell?” she asked.

“Oh ya, absolutely.”
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Buffy stared at the pentagram that Willow was drawing on the ground of the school basement. Even as she watched her friend’s movements she worried about the result of the spell.

“Ok,” said Willow, ready to begin. She placed a crystal in the middle of the pentagram and stepped out of the way. “If the crystal turns black, you have no soul, if it stays the same, you have your soul.”

Buffy nodded nervously.

“Of course, it could also mean that I’ve done the whole thing wrong,” the red head babbled, wringing her hands together.

Buffy’s gaze fixated on the crystal in the middle of the pentagram, not exactly listening to the words that Willow was saying in a language she did not understand. Slowly, Willow entered the pentagram, her chanting finished, and picked up the crystal.

“You ready?” asked Willow, holding the object in her hand, its colour unchanged.

With a gulp, Buffy nodded and reached out her hand. Gingerly, Willow placed the crystal in her friend’s hand.

Exhaling an unneeded breath, Buffy peered down at the object in her hand.

It was black.
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There was a bounce in her step as Buffy walked back to the mansion, the early morning calm interrupted only by commuters on their way to work. Spike had insisted that she accompany him for vampire type things that night, which naturally ended up being something stupid like initiating minions, or kitten poker. She’d left him at Willy’s with a straight flush and a bag of tabbies. She turned down a familiar alley taking a shortcut.

Since Willow’s spell and the revelation that she was soulless, she’d been happy Buffy. The urge to tell Spike that she didn’t have that thing that made her so disgusting to the other vamps was tempting. Deep down though, she felt that if how she was acting was causing problems and she didn’t have a soul, then there might be something else wrong with her.

It would not be a happy scenario if the minions found out.

Buffy tried to shake the idea out of her head. The sun would be up soon and she seriously needed some sleep before she had to get to school.

Of course this led to a whole other series of thoughts. Why? Why was she living in two worlds? Still? It was as if she was hovering between two lives, vampire and human. Ya she didn’t slay anymore, and regardless of what her mother thought about her vampire status, this couldn’t be a happy time for her mom.

Buffy turned a corner in her trek home, only to run, literally, into a girl. There was a flash of recognition on both of their faces.

“You’re Anya, right?” asked Buffy. “Cordelia’s friend?”

The girl shrugged. “I guess you could say that. I wasn’t supposed to be stuck here like I am. You’re Buffy, that girl that everyone thinks is a vampire.”

“Everyone thinks that I’m a vampire?” asked Buffy worried.

“Oh yeah, the whole sun allergy, always wearing clothes that cover as much of you as possible? It’s kinda noticeable. Don’t worry though, I won’t tell them that you actually are a vampire.”

“Huh?” Buffy stared in shock at this girl.

“Oh, I thought you knew. You are a vampire Buffy. I can tell. I used to be a demon, vengeance demon actually. Desperately trying to get back to being one.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t seem my place really. Now if you happened to know how to get back my pendant that would be great. Of course you are just a vampire,” she commented snootily.

“Hey!”

“I’m surprised that your Sire lets you go school at all. I can tell you are childer too. Most fledglings don’t get the protection of a sire, you know, end up being dominated by some master vamp or other. So that would make you....hmmm, you are the Childer of William the Bloody then?”

Buffy nodded.

“Oooh, lucky!” gushed Anya. “My best friend knew him when he was human. He is very handsome.”

If Buffy could have blushed she would have.

“Wait....You, you’re Elizabeth aren’t you?” she questioned, squinting at the vampire.

“Excuse me?”

“Your vampire name?” Anya repeated. “Elizabeth right?”

“Vampire name?” Buffy couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something big here.

“Well ya, you don’t think that vampire’s go by their real names do you? I mean, ya Dracula, William the Bloody, but honestly most just change their names. Angelus? Drusilla, The Prince of Lies? All made up names.”

“Angel’s real name was Liam,” said Buffy fondly.

“And if I recall, Drusilla’s was Mary. Hell, even my real name isn’t Anyanka or even Anya for that matter.”

“Really?”

“Oh, I’m not going to tell you what it was. If you know a demon’s real name you have power over them. Didn’t ever read Rumplestiltskin? Cautionary tale if I ever heard one.”

Buffy was intrigued. “How so?”

Anya smiled. “I think you should find that out for yourself.”

“I have to go anyway,” Buffy said, feeling confused beyond belief. “I’ll see you at school?”

“Sadly. Why did I have to get trapped as a seventeen year old girl?” Anya lamented.
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Drusilla’s real name and how she was going to use it to her advantage was the main thing on her mind as she coasted through her classes, the Christmas holiday fast approaching. The students around her looked forward to presents and time off of school.

Buffy looked forward to being able to sleep.

And getting rid of Drusilla.

Her mom had even extended an invitation to Spike to spend Christmas day with them. Her mom wanted to spend Christmas as a family. Even her father was supposed to show up.

Not a good combination.
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By the time that Christmas rolled around Buffy was no closer to finding a way to use Drusilla’s real name against her. She felt like she was stuck in some horrible puzzle.

It didn’t make matters any better that it seemed that Drusilla’s favourite holiday was Christmas. She had a tree decorated in the foyer. The decorations were bones, which Buffy shrugged off. It was the wreath of intestines that turned her stomach and sent her over the edge. It was the final straw.

“I can’t live here!” Buffy shouted at her mate, safely ensconced in her bedroom. “I tried and I tried!” Buffy packed up random clothes and textbooks, piling them into a duffle bag. “I’m not coming back as long as she’s here!”

“Buffy...” started Spike, his voice soothing.

He didn’t want her to go.

“I thought...”

“Well you thought wrong Spike,” she said as she hoisted her duffle bag over her shoulder and heading out the door. “Look me up when you ditch the psycho vamp princess Spike.”
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Buffy returned home to her mother’s house, on the verge of tears. He hadn’t even tried to stop her really. She flew directly into her mother’s waiting arms.

“Buffy?” asked her mother, the dishtowel in her hands indicating that she had been doing the dishes. “If I had known you were coming tonight, I would have kept dinner for you.”

“It’s ok mom, I’ll just get some blood later. If Spike calls I’m not home ok?” muttered the vampire as she trudged up the stairs to her room.

Joyce looked up the stairs at her retreating daughter with concern. The large duffle bag that was slung across her shoulders was a telling sign. Something had happened at the mansion. Something that drove Buffy from Spike. In a way, Joyce was grateful. Buffy spending time at home and with her friends was something that the seventeen year old should do. Reigning over a bunch of vampire minions was not something she had thought her daughter’s career choice would be.

Each time Joyce approached her daughter’s door, Buffy answered with a curt “Not now mom.”

She could tell that her little girl was hurting and she wanted to help. An idea came to her in an instant; she picked up the phone.

“Willow?”
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Spike watched Buffy leave the mansion as if he was viewing the event on television; it was surreal. It was as if it wasn’t happening. As the front door closed, he reached out through their connection, only to be blocked by a wave of anger.

He grabbed the nearest minion and ripped her head clean off, trying to vent his anger at what Buffy had done.

Shaking off the dust from his hands Spike stepped into the doorway, sniffing the air to catch her scent. She’s gone to her mother’s he concluded, her scent floating on the air in that direction. Spike stepped forward, into the night only to have a voice call him from the foyer.

“Spike?” asked Dru with a breathy voice. “Tell the pixies to stop their dancing, Miss Edith has a headache and will tell no more stories if they don’t.”

Spike turned around to see his sire clutching her head, as if she were in pain. With a glance out the door and one back at Drusilla, Spike closed the front door of the mansion and headed back inside to care for his mad sire.
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tbc...