"You tricked me!" Faith snarled in helpless fury, struggling frantically against the much stronger vampire restraining her, no signs of her earlier abuse of him now visible on his body or face. "Let -- me -- *go*!" she gasped as she tried uselessly to pull away from his grip.

Spike just laughed at her, effortlessly holding her down. "You know, I seem to recall making that request of you a few times over the past year or so, pet." His smile faded, and he leaned in closer, his voice becoming low and hard, and his eyes flashing with vindictive rage as he went on, "Perhaps -- if you can tell me *one time* when you actually *did* -- I *might* consider it."

He paused, a mock serious frown coming over his face. "No...wait. Don't bother," he shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I'll kill you either way."

With a wicked smile he slowly lowered his fangs to her throat again. But before they could actually connect with her flesh, something slammed into him with a stunning impact, knocking him backward off of the fallen Slayer and landing on top of him.

When the spinning world came into focus again, he was stunned to find that the "something" above him was actually *someone* -- Angelus.

He had no idea whether or not the poof had lost his soul, had not had time to notice, but regardless, he would always be Angelus in his mind -- "Angel" was just a facade his sire had taken on to make the sins of his past easier to deal with.

At the moment, however, those sins did not seem to matter much to him; he rather seemed to be attempting to add to the list.

It only took a few moments for the surprise of the sudden attack to wear off, and Spike lunged upward at his sire with a vicious snarl of fury, one fist flying up to slam into the larger vampire's face with a strength even Spike had not expected, knocking him backwards off of him.

Apparently the Slayer's blood he had consumed was rapidly taking effect.

Spike scrambled to his feet, quickly readying himself for the inevitable second attack, watching warily as Angelus shook his head, wiping blood from his mouth, as he recovered from the blow.

The older vampire gave the younger a cool, appraising look, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, William. Looks like you’ve picked up a few new tricks.” As he spoke, Angelus moved slowly around to circle his childe in a predatory way, his eyes never leaving Spike’s face.

“It’s Spike,” he corrected, a low warning growl beginning in his throat as he moved with Angelus, watching him cautiously, unwilling to turn his back on him even for a moment. He was feeling much stronger from the heavy dose of Slayer’s blood he had consumed, but he knew from very personal experience just how dangerous Angelus could be. “And no, no new tricks actually – the old ones seem to be working bloody well enough on you, don’t they?”

“Too soon to tell, boy,” Angelus smirked, feinting toward him suddenly, laughing when Spike tensed and dodged the blow that never fell. The smile suddenly faded, but his eyes were still full of mocking laughter as he went on in a patronizingly smug voice, “You know I can’t let you do this, right, Will?”

“And I can’t let you stop me,” Spike countered softly, meeting the eyes of his sire with unyielding resolve.

“You might not have a choice,” Angelus pointed out with a cold smile. “See – if you’re over here fighting *me* -- how are you gonna kill Faith?” His voice was taunting as he gestured with his hand toward the place where the dark Slayer lay.

Or – had lain.

Spike turned slightly to see that while Faith had been weakened by his assault, she was still conscious, and was climbing with difficulty to her feet, glancing anxiously at him over her shoulder as she took a stumbling step away from the vampires’ face-off. As she did, she fell to her knees again, but then struggled back up, at this point intent on nothing more than flight.

Her survival instinct was, apparently, stronger than her pride.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make this quick,” Spike said with a careless little shrug as he turned back toward Angelus.

But before he could fully face him again, Angelus seized his opportunity and lunged at him, hurling his greater weight into him and knocking them both to the ground. Grinning wickedly down at his childe, Angelus sneered, “That’s funny. I was just thinking how I wanted to see how long I could make it last!”

Angelus barely had time to register Spike’s glance up over his shoulder at something behind him, as the younger vampire smiled cheerfully and shrugged, “Fine, then,” he said carelessly. “Have it your way.”

An instant later Angelus was forcefully lifted away from Spike, and thrown violently several yards away, where he fell to the ground with a groan of pain at the impact. He staggered to his feet to face a furious blonde Slayer, standing a few feet away from him, directly between him and his intended victim, her arms crossed over her chest angrily.

“When will you people get it through your thick heads? Messing with Spike -- *so* not a good idea. ‘Cause when you mess with him – you mess with me.” She took a menacing step toward the vampire who had once been her lover, a cold smile on her face as she went on, “And that’s *not* a smart thing to do. You do *not* want to fight me.”

“Buffy,” Angelus spoke her name in a patronizingly patient way, his smile a mockery of affection as he looked at her. “Buffy, my love – what do you think I’ve wanted to do more than anything for the last – well – I suppose it’s only been a few months to you, hasn’t it?” His smile vanished into a hard look of bitter retribution. “It was quite a bit longer for me. Time moves a little differently in a hell dimension.”

Buffy flinched slightly at the reminder of her failure. After all, she had at one point loved this creature with everything in her young heart, and would regret until the day she died the tragic choice fate had forced her to make.

But not that she had made it.

“I – I’m sorry,” she began, swallowing back the hard lump of tears that rose in her throat.

“You’re *sorry*?” Angelus scoffed in a trembling voice of disbelieving rage. “You sent me to *hell*, Buffy! I lost absolutely *everything* because of you!”

“Including your soul?” Buffy shot back, glaring at him through tears of hurt and anger. “did you leave that behind in hell too?”

Angelus laughed, and it was a sick, bitter sound that sent a chill down Buffy’s spine. “See, that’s the really funny part, Buffy. I came through hell with my soul still intact. My conscience, that sense of right and wrong that tells me what I should and shouldn’t do?” He nodded, smiling. “Still there,” he assured her. “The part of me that *cares*, on the other hand?” He shrugged before adding matter-of-factly, “burned right up. Right along with any feelings I ever had for *you*.”

He paused, considering, before smiling at her coldly. “Except hatred. Wanting to kill you. I remember *those*, and they’re still there.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. It had been almost a year since her affair with Angel; she was in love with Spike now. It should not have hurt her so badly.

But it did.

Even as she registered his words, realized that the savage creature before her now was not the same one she had first given her heart to, an overwhelming sense of guilt came over her, combined with the pain of the seething hatred he so clearly held for her now. She had not mistaken the obvious adoration in his eyes in that remembered moment, that look she would never forget, when she had plunged the sword through Angel’s chest and sent him to hell with Acathla.

But by that act, she had driven that love from him forever, and with it any trace of goodness and morality he had once held in such high regard, sought after so earnestly.

The vampire she had sent to hell had returned – but Angel was lost to her forever.

But everything changed for her in the next moment. Her guilt, sympathy, grief – all were immediately scattered like the dust she envisioned of the vampire before her, when Angelus spoke his next words.

“But even more than I want to kill you – I want to *hurt* you, Buffy. I want to take everything that means anything to you – like you did to me.” He gave her a mockingly reproving look. “You came home too early and ruined the surprise. I only got halfway finished. Your sister was supposed to be next!”

Buffy’s eyes widened in realization at his proud, hateful confession, his cruel pleasure in the shocking revelation he had just made. She had suspected it, but had hoped that it was not so. She had been so relieved a few minutes before when she had incorrectly assumed that Angel was still chained in her basement, thus absolving him of guilt.

The thought that someone she had loved more than her own life had come into her home and brutally slaughtered her helpless mother, leaving her torn, decimated body to be found by little Dawn when she came home from school…

In that moment – the Slayer saw red.

With a primal roar of fury, she threw herself at her opponent, her stake raised in her hand and ready to strike. Angelus just laughed as he dodged out of her way, although he just barely missed her killing blow. Buffy spun around to face him again, eyes blazing with violent intent, one goal imprinted in her mind.

Angelus was not going to leave this clearing alive.


Spike knew that Buffy could hold her own when it came to Angelus; as for himself, he had a Slayer to deal with. As soon as Buffy had distracted Angelus’ attention from him, Spike quickly overtook the injured Slayer, still making a pitiful attempt to get away. He caught her by the hair, a hard fist in disheveled dark curls, and threw her back down to the ground on her hands and knees, moving to stand in front of her, blocking her escape.

“Going somewhere, love?” he asked in a voice of honey tinged with malice.

She just glared up at him in hatred, not saying a word. She had to know that at this point, nothing she could say would do her any good, not after all she had done to him and those he loved.

“I don’t think so, love,” Spike answered his own question with a satisfied smirk at the girl who had abused and abased him so viciously, and was now at *his* mercy. He leveled a hard kick to her chest that knocked her backward and sent her sprawling on the ground.

In an instant he was upon her, crouched over her and jerking her head up again by the hair, bringing her already damaged throat nearer to his razor sharp fangs. “I’ve been waiting for this. For a very long time,” he informed her in a soft, deadly voice.

She was coughing, gasping for breath from the brutal blow to her chest. As he lowered his mouth to her throat again, she managed to get out in a weak gasping whisper, “Always figured you – for more of a sportsman than this – this can’t be – much of a – a challenge…”

He drew back suddenly to meet her eyes, his own blazing with outrage at her words. Still, his voice was chillingly calm and controlled as he replied, “No…but neither was Dru, was she? Chained up and out of her mind – less defenses at her command than you’ve got now – but you slaughtered *her* without a second thought. Didn’t you?”

He shook her slightly, becoming enraged when she just laughed at him, although it was weak laughter. “Wasn’t very bloody *sporting* to play your vicious little games with *me* when I was either chained up or under a spell or – or helpless, now was it, love? You just knew you could only get away with it if I couldn’t fight back!”

She shrugged her admission to his claim. “Sure was fun though,” she whispered, catching her tongue between her teeth in a suggestive gesture, smirking at him in spite of the pain and helplessness of her situation.

Fury coursed through him at her nerve. Despite the fact that she was at his mercy, despite the fear he had clearly seen in her eyes, she seemed determined to anger him further, almost as if she *wanted* him to…

His eyes narrowed with sudden understanding. “Bet you’d like for me to rush things up and end it for you, wouldn’t you, pet?” he smiled coldly at her, a calculating light in his cruel golden eyes. “Bet you’d like to get off that easy – ain’t that right?”

The trapped, startled look in her eyes told him that he was right, and his smile widened with cruel anticipation.

“Again, love – I really don’t think so. I’m going to make sure that you get every bit of what’s coming to you for what you did to Dru – no matter how long it takes.”

The wicked gleam in his eyes sent a chill down her spine, to realize the malicious intent he held to not only kill her, but to cause her as much pain as he could in the process. There was no doubt in Faith’s mind by this point that she was going to die. She was too weak to fight or defend herself; her only all, Angelus, was unlikely to be any help. He was unlikely to even *survive* the fight he was engaged in with the other Slayer.

She was still convinced that her only hope was to anger Spike to the point of just taking her life, quickly, and bypassing the torture he had planned for her, that he seemed so intent upon.

She forced a cold, mocking smile as she murmured with a smirk, “Is that what this is about? The crazy slut?”

The fire of rage that rose up in Spike nearly consumed him, nearly had her desired effect and drove him to grant her the fast, relatively easy death that was now her goal. Somehow, he managed to force it back, pasting on a tight, cold smile. She did not deserve an easy death.

And Dru deserved so much more.

“Get over yourself, Slayer,” he advised with a smirk. “Not everything’s about you!” And with that, he plunged his fangs into her throat again.

She gasped as she felt the pull of his drawing her blood from her body again, as stars began to invade the landscape of her vision, and she thought with grim relief that she had managed to win at least this small battle for the last shred of her dignity.

Until his fangs suddenly tore down through her flesh, moving slowly, but viciously, driving any notion that she had won anything in any way out of her mind with a searing jolt of agony coursing through her body.

Fierce golden eyes rose to meet hers, holding eye contact with her as his fangs continued their slow torturous motion from her throat down her shoulder. The expression in those eyes left no doubt in her mind that he meant to draw her suffering out as long as he could, and despair overwhelmed her.

And Faith’s screams of fear and agony rang out clearly into the night.