“Mummy’s poor little lamb…”

There were tears in Dru’s voice, full of clear distress, as Spike felt her cool hand brush back his dirty, disheveled hair from his brow. He weakly turned his face toward her, struggling to open his eyes.

Bloody pathetic it was, that even that slight motion should require such an effort.

But it wasn’t as if it was *his* fault; Angelus had not allowed him to feed in over a week.

If he planned to just allow him to dry up into dust from sheer starvation, well -- so far his plan was going well. Spike spent most of his time these past few days hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness, delirious with his need for blood, and yet helpless to do anything about it.

Once or twice, just for kicks, Angelus had brought in a human captive, offering them to Spike with cruel amusement -- and by the last time he had indulged in that little game, Spike had been so far gone with hunger that he had actually attempted to bite the terrified girl that Angelus had offered him.

The older vampire had seemed to find the resulting explosive,incapacitating migraine utterly hilarious.

Dru had sat in the corner and wept softly, not taking any pleasure in the sight of her childe, broken and wasting away and suffering in agony. In the few waking moments in which Spike’s eyes were actually open, he had seen the expression of sorrow and anguished regret in her dark eyes as she watched Angelus’ torment of him , and knew that she wanted to help him.

But they both knew that Dru would not dare to go against Angelus -- anymore than Spike would dare to grab her and plunge his fangs into her own throat, drawing the borrowed life’s blood from her veins and into his starving body.

Oh, the thought had definitely crossed his mind, more than once during the course of this terrible, forced starvation. He wouldn’t even have to take enough to actually harm her; it would be so easy, just to reach out and pull her to him while she was hovering over him, doing her best to ease the guilt she felt for allowing his suffering by pretending to care for him -- but the Sire’s bond was too powerful for either him or Dru to resist, and it was simply not an option.

Especially now, when he was nearly too weak to move at all.

“Dru,” he whispered through his parched lips. “Dru…please, love…please…”

He didn’t have to say anything else, didn’t think he could have formed a longer request if he had tried -- but Dru knew what he was asking for, and tears welled in her dark eyes, filled with despair and resignation to the fact that she could do nothing for him.

“My poor William, Mummy’d love to feed her boy, but Daddy says he must go hungry…says he wants to bring him to the brink of nothing, then back again according to his liking…” Her voice softened to a scared whisper, as she leaned in closer to press a soft kiss to Spike’s pale cheek. “But Mummy thinks he’s forgotten where the brink is…and little William will fade away before he remembers again…”

Spike was quite sure that she was right.

Angelus’ head games were going to see him dust, before the crazy old poof decided he’d had enough of his fun.

“Dru,” he whispered out, the effort to form the words creating a painful scraping in his impossibly dry mouth and throat. “He’s…not…”

Dru frowned, shaking her head slightly, puzzled. “Not what, my Spike?”

“…here…”

Her eyes widened with surprised understanding, and she shook her head firmly as she drew back away from him. “Not here,” she agreed, still shaking her head, “not here -- but ‘e knows, my Spike…he knows what I do…‘e’d know if I did it…Mummy can’t make Daddy angry, my love…”

“Dru…” Her name on his lips bore more weight than just its own, pleading and desperate, though he could not find the strength to say more.

“Shush, now,” she ordered, her voice suddenly sharper, though he could tell that it was more with fear than with anger, as she rose suddenly to her feet and backed toward the door. “It’s already written, my William -- already done. Mummy can’t save you…” A maniacal giggle escaped her lips, as she shook her head, a new realization dawning in her eyes as she went on, “…and Daddy can’t kill you…you’re not ours anymore, you’re not…you belong in the sunshine…”

At that moment, Spike was sure that the idea of sunshine was much more appealing than the prospect of staying here until his body slowly crumbled into dust in this bed.

Without another word, Dru whirled around, still giggling madly, and glided swiftly toward the door. She stopped suddenly in the doorway, her back to him, her head tilted strangely, as if listening to some voice that he could not hear, as a slow, sad smile formed on her lips.

“Daddy’s coming home…Mummy must be ready for him…keep his eyes turned while the sun steals you away, my William…”

Spike felt his heart lurch within him with apprehension at her words, and the dark, foreboding tone in which she spoke them. He could easily tell by now when Dru was just talking out of her head, and when she had seen a vision, when her words held more meaning than even she knew -- and this was one of those times.

But now, he only hoped that the sunlight took him, before Angelus did.

***************************************

Buffy could not remember a time when she had felt quite so miserable.

Giles’ research had turned up nothing so far in the way of a connection between the restoration ritual Spike had performed for Drusilla, and Angel’s sudden loss of his soul -- which in all honesty did not come as that much of a surprise to her. It still seemed like more than a coincidence to her, but when no connection had come to light yet, Buffy was beginning to feel guilty over the one, possibly very important factor that she had yet to mention to anyone.

What had happened between her and Angel that night.

Willow had hardly spoken to her since that horrible incident with Angelus in her bedroom. Oh, she was not unfriendly or obviously angry about it anymore; she spoke to Buffy when she saw her, and it was obvious that she was at least trying to get past it.

But she wasn’t having much success.

There was a sort of weird awkwardness now between them, a distance that only served to further crush Buffy’s already broken heart. She really wanted to open up and tell Willow everything that had happened -- but after what Angelus had nearly done to her, she had no idea how the little redhead would take the news of how far things had gone between him and her best friend.

If a single kiss could be so devastating to their friendship…

Well, Buffy just could not bring herself to tell the truth to Willow.

Xander seemed to know that there was some other factor present in the whole situation, something just under the surface that no one was mentioning -- and, dutiful best friend that he was, he tried to get Buffy to talk to him about it. But he had always despised Angel, had never accepted or trusted him -- and the thought of the disappointment, the judgment in his eyes when he found out the truth was more than Buffy could take.

As for her Watcher, Buffy had tried her best to keep as much distance as possible between them, well aware that if anyone caught on to the fact that she was keeping a secret, it would likely be Giles.

And he was the last person she wanted to find out.

*Some Vampire Slayer I am,* she thought bitterly as she wandered aimlessly down Sunnydale’s dark streets, supposedly “patrolling”. *I’m supposed to stake them, not screw them -- but I did, and wow! The joke’s on me -- I was so amazing, I managed to turn my not-evil vampire boyfriend evil again!*

The sound of a scream from an alley a couple of blocks ahead of her drew her attention out of her thoughts with relief, and she sprinted the distance in a matter of seconds, rounding the corner into the alley and coming face to face with a vampire attack in progress.

Two rather typical looking vamps had a typical Sunnydale college girl pinned between them, one of them with his hand over her mouth, stifling her further attempts to scream, while the other laughed crudely and pulled her body up against his in a lecherously suggestive manner.

“You know -- she doesn’t look so into this. Maybe you two should brush up on your skills. Or, you know,” Buffy shrugged carelessly as the vamps turned toward her in surprise, “just go practice on yourselves. I *know* you’ve got to be good at *that*.”

“Yeah?” one of the insulted vampires blustered back in an offended tone. “Yeah -- well -- well, screw you!”

“Oh, *that’s* original,” Buffy rolled her eyes as she pulled her stake from her pocket and moved in closer to the now-cornered vamps.

Instinctively they both moved backward at her advance, readying themselves to fight -- and in the process, releasing their intended victim.

“Naw,” the second vamp answered his friend’s weak insult, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “Naw, that’s the Slayer, man -- and you know what they say about *her*…”

Buffy raised her eyebrows as she gradually narrowed the distance between herself and the vampires, twirling her stake in her hand with what appeared to be idle grace -- though her temper was beginning to rise at the insulting manner they were using with her.

“And what’s that?” she asked flatly.

“Just that no one would *want* to screw you,” Vamp #2 laughed rudely, giving her a bold once-over. “Which, judging from the looks of you -- can only mean that you *totally* suck. But,” he shrugged with a sneer, “apparently not well.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed in anger as she raised her stake, launching her attack in fury at his words. The vampires fell on her both at once, snarling and clawing at her, attempting to reach her throat with their fangs -- but neither one of them was really all that experienced or capable, and she swiftly managed to regain the advantage, slinging one of them into the wall, where he collapsed to the floor, struggling to rise on a shattered hip.

She got to her feet, rushing after him to stake him where he lay.

That left the second vamp -- the one who had mocked her.

Seeing what she had done to his friend, he began backing up swiftly, wide eyes focused on the spot where the other vampire’s dust was swiftly disappearing into the night air. But before he could get very far, she was upon him, throwing him to the ground beneath her and pinning him with a hand at his throat, her stake poised over his heart.

“Now,” she began, her features set in a grim, angry smile, “there’s two ways this can go. I can shove my pointy stick through your chest until it gets to your heart and you can die quickly -- or I can shove my pointy stick down your *throat* until it gets to your heart -- and neither one of us will have much fun with that method. So if you want to go easy -- you’ll tell me what I want to know…”

Choking against her hand at his throat, the defeated vamp gasped out, “W-what’s the question…?”

Her eyes narrowing, the infuriated Slayer kept her temper under control, her voice actually softening as she asked, “Who told you what a bad lay I supposedly am -- and where can I find him?”

***********************************

Upon first entering the apparently deserted mansion on Crawford Street that the minion -- now so much dust in the wind -- had directed her to, Buffy saw no signs of life or unlife at all, and wondered at first if he had lied to her. Everything downstairs was dark and still and deserted -- and she was just about to leave, when she caught a faint sound that seemed to be coming from upstairs.

Glancing up the winding staircase that led to the second level, Buffy could see a faint glow coming from upstairs. Cautiously, silently, she made her way up the stairs, careful not to allow her footsteps to cause them to creak and betray her presence. When she reached the landing at the top of the stairs, she saw that there was a faint glow coming from under a door a couple of doors down on the right, and edged cautiously closer to it.

The sounds she had heard downstairs were clearer now -- and disturbing, as she realized what it was she was hearing. Her eyes widened and she felt her cheeks flush as she recognized the sounds of a man and a woman in their coupling -- and a rather passionate coupling it seemed to be, from the sounds of…

The thought died there, her heartbeat seeming to still in an instant, as Buffy suddenly recognized the low, male voice that spoke on the other side of the door.

“Who’s Daddy’s only girl, Dru…? That’s…that’s it…”

The words were followed by a low moan of pleasure, and a higher pitched female voice answering him, crying out his name in an ecstasy that sent Buffy’s heart plunging into her stomach, as her eyes welled with tears, and she backed away, shaking her head in denial of what it was she was hearing.

A part of her wanted to rush in, wanted to punish him for how he had hurt her, how he had hurt her friends -- wanted to punish her, for stealing his affections away from her. They were clearly distracted at the moment, at least a little incapacitated, and she was fairly certain that with just a little bit of luck she could stake them both before they could react.

But if she did -- if she walked into that room and saw it for herself -- then it would be real.

Suddenly, the sounds on the other side of the door went silent.

“Did you hear that?” she heard that painfully familiar voice whisper.

“Only heard you singing to the stars, Daddy,” the mad vampiress replied dreamily on the other side of the door.

But in the next instant, Buffy heard the creaking of the mattress, indicating that someone was getting up -- and a strange panic came over her. She was not worried about whether or not she could physically take Angelus; she was fairly certain that she could. But, there was just something about the idea of being caught here, in this hallway, tear-stained and broken from what she had heard through the door, that made her feel just too…too…

Pathetic.

She suddenly was sure, above anything else, she could not, *could not* allow them to find her here. A hasty backpedal took her a couple doors down the hall the way she had came, and without turning her back on the door to the bedroom, her hand fumbled at the handle of one of the dark, empty rooms on the opposite side of the hall.

At least -- she hoped it was empty, she thought as she backed up into the room and closed the door silently behind her, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited to see if she would be found out -- and tried to decide what she would do if she was.