Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Eviscerate Me, My Love	By : jsu1660n Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 8793 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I receive no profit from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Part II.
I am pathetic, she realized as the scent of her own blood from her knees scrapping against the graveled alley behind the Bronze filled her nose. She had come there to relax. Angelus never seemed to take a night off from terrorizing Buffy and her friends. This time, the victims were Willow’s fish. She found them strung up inside one of what were quickly becoming his infamous envelopes. A horrific taunt that only served to prove that he could get to them whenever he wished. Which led to everyone remembering that Angelus had access to most of their houses. Which also led to Giles and Ms. Calendar campaigning to erect wards revoking his invitation. Which ultimately led to Buffy rambling off some feeble excuse as to why she did not want her house warded off. Thus leading to why she went to the Bronze in the first place. Buffy wanted a night to relax and forget about Angel and his demonic counterpart.
But nothing ever went as Buffy planned. She rubbed her thighs together to alleviate her throbbing arousal as Angelus panted above her. He was holding her hair in his hand, thrusting his cock in and out of her pliant mouth.
Angelus smirked to himself. Her self-disgust mixed with her arousal, and he loved every minute of it. Angel was quieter nowadays, but his misery and guilt was still prevalent. Angel’s guilt coupled with Buffy’s self-loathing and arousal was the sweetest drug second only to her blood.
He felt her moans around his cock and heard the wet sounds of her fingers frantically thrusting into her cunt. Angelus glanced down at Buffy who was watching him with wide eyes. She worked her fingers in tandem to Angelus’ thrusts. He slowed his movements, watching her wet fingers mirror his actions. A rush of satisfaction washed over Angelus as he watched the Slayer mimic his thrusting, wishing he was fucking her again. He picked up his pace, waiting for her to come. And when she did, it was screaming his name around his cock.
“Yes,” he hissed. Her screams around his cock, the sweet scent of her release, the searing heat of her mouth – it was all too much as Angelus felt his balls tightening. “Swallow every drop,” he groaned streaming long, cold jets down her throat. He thrust once more and stood still. His eyes closed as he basked in the wet warmth of the Slayer’s mouth. He wished he could spend his eternity there. And if the light sucks from her hot little mouth was any indication, she wished he would too.
Reluctantly, he pulled his semi-hard cock from her mouth with a loud POP. He tucked himself into his pants. Buffy looked up from her place on her knees. Her hair was wild, cascading around her innocent face. Dried mascara trailed down her cheeks from her eyes watering when he made her gag earlier. She looked so lost. A lost clawless kitten. Beautiful.
“Thanks,” he said coolly. He turned to leave when she called to him.
“You’re – you’re leaving?”
“Well, that’s typically what happens when someone turns their back and walks away.”
“Oh,” she said, lowering her eyes. “I just…I thought that –.”
“You know, Buff, I would love to stick around for what I’m sure is a well thought-out appeal, but with Spike being out of commission and all, I promised Dru that we would get up to all kinds of naughty things.”
It was a lie, of course. When Angelus returned, he took Drusilla on nearly every surface of the factory just to fuck the taste of Slayer out of his mouth. But then he realized, why settle for his childe when he could have the real thing? The lie was worth it, however, when wave after wave of the Slayer’s sorrow and heartache attacked his senses. He had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning in pleasure from her pain.
“Oh,” she said again. She kept her head down, somehow believing that she could hide her tears.
Silly Slayer, he thought. You should know by now there is nothing you can hide from me.
He cupped her chin, lifting her head so her glistening orbs met his. “You really are a pro, lover.”
Her lips trembled and her hot tears spilled onto his hand. Angelus laughed all the way to the factory. He circled back after hearing Spike and Drusilla entertaining each other. He went to Buffy’s house and waited until she fell into a fitful sleep. He scaled the side of her house and climbed through her window.
Misery, heartbreak, self-loathing and unfulfilled desire blended to create the most addictive cocktail of her emotions. Angelus took a moment to breathe in the Slayer’s despair. He truly wanted to keep her around if only to bathe in her sadness. He left her to her fitful sleep and decided he would pay her mother a visit.
Buffy continued to toss and turn in spite of Angelus’ fading presence. Her dreams were beginning to feel too real. She was in the Bronze on a night she was sure her friends wouldn’t be there. She wore a black lace-up leather dress that barely covered her ass.
The music was slow and moving.
~ You won’t cry for my absence, I know – you forgot me long ago ~
She swayed to the beat, ignoring the tremors in her belly and the piercing pain in her chest.
~ Am I that unimportant…? Am I so insignificant…? ~
Buffy’s senses twinged. He was there. Behind her. Watching. Waiting. She smiled in spite of herself. She moved her hips almost hypnotically. She liked when his possessiveness got the best of him. He would always growl as if staking an animalistic claim.
~ Isn’t something missing? Isn’t someone missing me? ~
His cool hands touched her arms and she willingly leaned back against his chest. “Angelus,” she breathed.
“Not quite, Buffy.”
She opened her eyes. Her heart nearly stopped from the sweet voice that held none of the familiar cruelty and mockery. He held her firmly, but not enough to hurt her. He turned her around and her eyes welled in both happiness and devastation.
“Angel,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”
But something was wrong. Angel stood impassively. His arms hung limply at his sides. Never in their relationship had he neglected to return her hugs.
“Have you?” he said almost coldly when she pulled back.
“Of course I have. Everyone told me that it was over. That you were gone and you would never come back to me. But I knew better,” she said, caressing his face. “I knew we would be together again.”
Quicker than her eyes could see, Angel grabbed her wrist and turned it over. The fang marks stood out against her golden skin. “Then explain these.” He watched her open and close her mouth several times before he leaned over and whispered, “I can smell him on you.”
“Angel,” she said, staring into his angry dark eyes. “I didn’t – it wasn’t – you don’t know what it was like when you were gone. I mourned you. I grieved for you. You were the love of my life.”
“And yet it did nothing to stop you from letting that demon have his way with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?”
“Yes! Don’t you know that I would take back everything I did with Angelus if I could?” she sobbed.
“No, you wouldn’t. You can lie to your mother. You can lie to all your friends. You can even lie to yourself, Buffy, but I know you. You could never lie to me.”
“I’m not lying, Angel! When you were gone, I wanted to die. I wanted to just crawl into a hole and die.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Until Angelus came along and fucked me right out of your memory.”
Buffy drew back, burned by her love’s harsh words. “It wasn’t like that.”
“No, it was exactly like that, Buffy.” He grabbed her arms, pulling her towards him. “You gave in to him because he had my body.”
“I –.”
“You let him take you because in your mind it brought you closer to me. That’s sick, Buffy.”
“Angel,” she whimpered.
“It’s sick and disgusting and do you know what that makes you, my love?” he laid his head against hers and whispered in her ear. “It makes you pathetic.”
“Please, please,” she cried. “Please tell me what I can do. Tell me what I can do to make this right again,” she said, pulling him closer.
Angel shoved her back onto the floor as everyone else danced as though they were invisible. Hurt filled her eyes as he looked down on her with dispassionate eyes. He looked more like Angelus in that moment than he ever did. “There is nothing you can do, Buffy. You are his now.”
“No!” she said, scrambling to her feet. “I’m not his! I’m yours! I’m yours!”
“You don’t get it, do you, Buffy?” he reached out, snatching his cross from around her neck. It sizzled in his hand, burning his flesh, but he didn’t even blink. “You willingly gave yourself over to the vilest vampire known to man. You don’t know how that disgusts me.”
“But –.”
“I could never love someone like you.”
She couldn’t believe him. She wouldn’t. Angel didn’t love her anymore? It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible. She looked up again, hoping to convince him that they still loved each other. But Angel no longer stood in front of her. He was briskly walking towards the door.
“Angel, wait!” she said, following him through the crowd that seemed to thicken as if purposely keeping them apart. “Angel!” one of the women in the club bumped her shoulder and Buffy’s gaze fell onto one of the windows. Sunlight shined brightly. “Angel!” she screamed, forcing her way through the throng of people.
“It’s over, Buffy,” he said, his hand already on the door’s handle.
“No, it’s not! We can talk about this, Angel.” Ignoring her, he pushed opened the door revealing that the sun had risen. “We can fix this. I know we can.” Tears blurred her eyes when he turned his back to the daylight. “We can get through this, but baby please, please get away from the sunlight.”
His wet eyes met hers and for a moment she saw the Angel she loved within their dark depths. “You were my only reason for living this long, Buffy.”
“Don’t.”
“Without you, there is nothing left in this world for me but loneliness and the constant pain of guilt that never, ever goes away. Without you, there is no me.” He stood too close to the light and smoke began rising from his back.
“You have me! You have me, Angel, but you have to come back. Please,” she held out her shaking hand. “Come back to me.”
“Buffy,” he said, holding his hand out to her.
She reached out to him. Their fingertips touched for only a moment when he grabbed her waist, drawing her back against his chest. “You wouldn’t be trying to leave me for your long lost Angel, now would you, lover?” Angelus snarled. Buffy didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that his fangs were out.
“Angelus, please. He’s going to kill himself.”
“Is that so?” he said, her pleas falling on deaf ears. “Well, I say, good riddance and don’t let the door hit you on the ass.”
Pure heartbreak filled Angel’s eyes as he watched them. He stepped back quickly into the sunlight. Buffy screamed as Angel burst into flames. Angelus wrapped his hand around her throat, holding her in place. Buffy wouldn’t turn away or close her eyes. It was her fault that her love was dying. She held his eyes until he disintegrated. She owed him that much.
Angelus spun her around, forcing her to meet his demonic gaze. “Now I can do the one thing I have wanted to do from the first time I saw you, little Slayer.” He wrenched her head back, biting into her neck as she screamed.
“No!” Buffy sat up, opening her eyes. She panted heavily. It took her a few moments to realize that it was all a dream, but that bit of knowledge did nothing to ease the heaviness of her heart. She brought her knees up to her chest. “It was just a dream. It was just a dream,” she chanted.
Still shaken, Buffy left her room and went downstairs. The kitchen was dark. She didn’t bother turning on the lights. Her Slayer instincts assisted her in navigating around the darkened room. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the tap. She downed half of it before he spoke.
“Bad dream?” he was pressing her into the sink before she could turn around.
“What are you doing here, Angelus?” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. But he still heard it.
“Oh, it was a bad dream!” he smirked in the darkness. “Angel leaving you again?” he guessed.
Buffy squeezed her eyes shut in spite of the surrounding darkness. “No,” she lied.
Angelus tsked in mock disappointment. “You can lie to everyone else, lover, but you can’t lie to me.”
Buffy’s blood ran cold as he mimicked Dream Angel’s words to near perfection. “I think you should leave,” she said, twisting out of his embrace.
“But that isn’t really what you want is it, lover?” he said, sitting on one of the chairs of the dining room’s table. He quickly pulled her down on to his lap, pressing her back against the edge of the table as she squirmed. “Answer me.” He spoke softly, but the silent threat was undeniable.
“No, and that’s exactly why you should leave. I can’t keep doing this with you, Angelus,” she confessed. “It’s going to hurt too many people if we’re found out.”
“I am all for hurting others, lover, however, if the wrong people did discover your unquenchable desires for me,” he said, slipping his hand down between them. Angelus watched her gasp and bite back moans as he slipped his hand underneath her soaked panties. “I can already envision you turning martyr on me and that would be unpleasant.”
A glimmer of hope flashed in the Slayer’s eyes. He slipped his fingers inside her tight, soaking passage and she began to ride his fingers. “You don’t want my friends to turn on me because it would bring me pain?”
“Exactly,” they were in complete darkness and even with her Slayer abilities, she was unable to perceive his mocking smirk until it was too late. “If anyone has the right to hurt you, lover, it’s me.”
Her expression crumbled to disappointment. He could feel the self-loathing rolling off her even as she panted and rode his fingers. “It stays between us then?” she gasped.
“As long as you play by the rules.”
“Meaning?”
“This,” he grabbed her hot, pulsing cunt. “Is mine whenever I want it. You belong to me to use for however I see fit, lover. If you piss me off and I decide to chain you to Spike’s bed so that he and Drusilla can have a three-way with you it will happen because you belong to me.” Truly, he would never share his Slayer with anyone. Not even his childer. But she didn’t need to know that just yet.
A disgusted shiver passed through her at the thought of being an unwilling participant in Angelus’ demented childer’s sex games. “I am yours,” she whispered, helplessly, biting down on her lip as she came to silence her moans.
Blood trailed down her chin from where she bit her lip. Angelus growled devouring her mouth and tasting her sweet Slayer’s blood. She felt his face shift and submissively pressed her tongue against his fangs. He obliged, biting down. Hard. Pained tears clouded her eyes and she felt her juices drip out onto Angelus’ pants.
“You’re so wet for me tonight, lover.” He smacked her thigh lightly, making her raise her hips. He quickly unzipped his pants, freed his aching cock and impaled her hot cunt. He tore open her shirt, ignoring the clattering buttons across the wood floors. Angelus gripped her hair, holding her in place as she tried to move. “Not until I say, lover.” He picked her up and laid her back on top of the table, relieved and a little disappointed that he thought to clear away the decorative plates and glasses on a whim. It would have been thrilling to hear the silverware rattle as they banged the table. Even with her mother upstairs sleeping. He started kneading her breasts and suckling her nipples to the point of delicious soreness as her little hands gripped his hair. He released her breasts and moved lower. Angelus dragged his fangs down her stomach, tearing apart her flawless skin. Her pained whimpers quickly became needy moans as his cool tongue lapped up the blood oozing from her shallow cuts.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me,” she said, still unable to move against the firm hold on her hips.
“The Chosen One begging to be fucked by the demon she swore to hate. Oh, the irony!” he taunted. Angelus tore off the remainder of her ruined clothing. He enjoyed the way her naked body seemed to glow within the darkness. Her haunting skin would look lovely drenched in blood. His cock gave an agonized twitch from the thought. He sat comfortably in the chair. His large hand wrapped around her small wrists binding them behind her back as he ordered, “ride me.”
Her pert little breasts bounced wildly as she rode him with the inexperienced skill suiting someone of her innocence. Angelus was grateful they were surrounded by darkness. It would not do for her to see the sheer bliss on his face or how he soundlessly chanted her name. Even in the midst of the unspeakable pleasure her tight little body gave him, he could not stop being the cruel monster she could never resist, anymore than she could stop being the sexually innocent Slayer begging to be corrupted.
“What would Angel say, lover?” he panted. “What would Angel say if he knew the love of his undead life was bouncing on my cock? His most hated enemy?”
Buffy whimpered, his harsh words cutting her deep. But she never faltered or hesitated in her movements. If anything, she went faster, squeezing him tighter. “Please, Angelus,” but this time she was begging for his mercy.
He laughed harshly. Mercy from him? Silly child. If she only knew that the guilt Angel felt for all of Angelus’ crimes against humanity was a mere wave in an ocean compared to the tsunami of pain drowning him as he watched Buffy ride Angelus as though he himself never had a place in her heart.
Angelus’ balls began to tighten. He slipped his hand between them rolling her engorged clit between his expert fingers. Buffy came apart instantly, reopening the bite on her lip.
Angelus marveled over her as she came. Her emotions filled with both despair and desire. Inconsolable tears fell from her eyes like a steady stream. Her skin was slick with from sweat. Blood flowed from her lip and dripped down lazily between her breasts. She was beautiful and distraught. Her misery served to him on a platter. And most of all, she was all his.
He took her again and again until her cunt was raw and would no longer open for him without splitting her in two. He laid beside her, fully dressed as her naked and exhausted body nestled against him to soak up his inhuman chill. She was even more helpless and vulnerable in her sleep. Watching her that way, so unrestrained and relaxed, he could almost see what it was that made Angel love her.
Love. A growl rumbled through his chest at the thought of the weak human emotion. Buffy shifted in response to his growl moving herself even closer to him. He smiled darkly. Even subconsciously, she sought to appease him. In tradition of his history, this usually was the time when Angelus would end his intimacies with companions like her. The clingy obsessive ones looking to tame him. But as he looked down at Buffy’s open, innocent face he knew she was nothing like the women of his past and probably would be nothing like the women of his future. Ignoring her desire to defend every defenseless being on earth or the grating love she has for all those around her, Angelus could see a worthy companion in her. She would defend him if he wanted. She would fight beside him if he asked. She would bow to no other will but his.
Angelus was already beginning to see his counterpart’s love walking beside him in eternal darkness. The only thing that prevented Angelus from ripping Buffy’s throat out for making him think such a ridiculous thought was Angel suddenly roaring to life.
“Well, well, I was beginning to hope that you had suddenly died on me, Peaches,” he said, borrowing Spike’s favorite nickname for his aforementioned soul. “Don’t worry, the little Slayer won’t be taking the plunge into eternity anytime soon.”
Angelus felt the threats that Angel had no voice to speak. The silent threats he could tolerate, but his impressions of Angelus’ hatred for Buffy growing into something more pushed his limit. Before Angel could attempt to rectify his mistake, Angelus’ face shifted. He grabbed Buffy’s wrist and bit down hard enough to make her moan and thrash in pain. Angelus was careful to stare at Buffy’s pinched face so that his counterpart could see what his carelessness had caused. He greedily sucked on Buffy’s wrist. Not to drain her, but to leave her weakened for the next couple of days. She slipped into unconsciousness and Angelus sealed the bite leaving behind two angry red marks.
“Imply again that I have feelings for Buffy and I guarantee the next time you see her it will be when I’m setting up her naked, bloody and dead body for her little friends to find,” he warned. Getting nothing but silence from his counterpart, Angelus allowed his face to shift back. It was true that he would miss her when she was gone. His counterpart wasn’t wrong about that. But he would have his memories of her on her hands and knees. Her face wet with tears as she begged him for the death that she so justly deserved. The vivid fantasy brought forth a frightening smile on Angelus’ face and although unconscious, Buffy shivered.
~…*…~
She was sick. Dream Angel was right. She needed help. She was the last person Buffy ever wanted to go to for help, especially when she was partly to blame for the situation they were in, but who else was there for Buffy to turn to?
It was early. It would be at least an hour before the students began trickling in to await the first bell. Buffy spotted Ms. Calendar’s car in the parking lot. The attractive gypsy was grabbing her bag from the backseat when Buffy approached her.
“Hi,” she said.
“Oh, Buffy,” she said, startled. “I didn’t see you there. You’re here very early.” The woman swept her wise and all-seeing gypsy eyes over her. “Is everything all right?” she asked, although she knew it wasn’t.
“No,” she gave a pained smile. “It really isn’t. I know I’ve been horrible to you lately, but I really need your help,” she said, embarrassedly wiping away her tears.
Jenny led the distraught girl to her classroom. “Here,” she said, passing Buffy a Starbucks cup. “Something told me I may need two instead of one,” she shrugged at her questioning eyes. “It’s decaf.”
“Thank you,” Buffy said, sipping the coffee.
“What’s been going on?” she asked after a moment of silence.
Buffy tensed again and began to tell her teacher and ex-ally everything. “I know that it’s wrong and I feel so weak and disgusted with myself afterwards, but I can’t stop. And I know you might think that it’s because I’m desperate to be close to Angel, but I never feel close to him with Angelus.”
“This explains so much,” Jenny said, trying unsuccessfully to remove the stunned expression from her face.
“It’s not getting any easier to hide it from everyone else.” Buffy held her tears at bay as she clutched the cup between her hands. “Is there…some kind of spell you can perform on me? Something to stop me from slowly killing myself with him?” she pleaded.
Jenny sighed, placing her hands on top of Buffy’s. “Buffy, nothing short of erasing Angel from your memory completely will help you. And I know you don’t want that.”
Her heart clenched painfully at the thought. “God, no. But there has to be something you can do to help me.”
Jenny sighed, wracking her brain. “I suppose I could try the Stone of Satyriasis.”
“Stone of Satyriasis?”
“It stems from the Greek myth of Satyr. The vampires first targeted my people because they feared what we could do. Most of them chose the direct route and went straight for the jugular, but others, like Angelus, employed other methods. They used sex and when their victims were at their weakest, they drained them.”
Buffy stared at Jenny wide-eyed. The thought of Angelus using sex as a weapon was nothing that she hadn’t already experienced. But knowing he used it on other women hurt her in a way she was not ready to come to terms with.
Jenny saw the look of betrayal that quickly flashed before Buffy’s eyes. She frowned, realizing that Angelus’ hold on Buffy was even stronger than she wanted to believe. She had to do something. Angelus was not named the Scourge of Europe for nothing. If Buffy became blinded enough by her feelings for him for one moment too long, he could destroy the world and they would be powerless to stop it.
“Anyway, the Stone of Satyriasis is a necklace made of a regular diamond dipped in the blood of the one you wish to keep out of here,” she said, placing her hand over her heart.
“Great. I’m sure if I just ask my demonic lover nicely for half a cupful of his blood he’ll give it to me. He’s very helpful when it comes to things like that, you know,” she quipped tiredly. “What happens once you have the blood?”
“The diamond turns black after the incantation and whatever…feelings you have for him will stop, but…” she hesitated.
“But what?”
“But because you feel so deeply for Angel who is as much a part of Angelus as he is Angel, you may feel numb to them both or –.”
“Or?” Buffy prompted.
“Or your love for Angel may die altogether.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Buffy ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “And it has to be blood?”
“It’s the only guaranteed method. The diamond won’t work without it.”
“Then blood it is,” she said, resolving herself.
“Buffy, are you sure this is the only way? Prolonged exposure to the stone could lead to being numb, sexually and emotionally I mean. Indefinitely.”
Buffy met her eyes briefly before reaching inside her bag. With shaking hands, she gave her the folded drawing. “He left it on my pillow. I found it this morning.”
Jenny opened the paper and drew in a shaky breath. It was a chillingly accurate drawing of Buffy’s mother asleep in bed. “He’s threatening you.”
“By threatening her.”
“You should really put protection over your house, Buffy.”
“Not until I have his blood. Then you all can secure it like it’s Fort Knox for all I care,” she sighed.
Jenny took the time to look over the usually lighthearted and levelheaded girl before her. Nothing could ever break Buffy’s spirit, but now she was only a shell of her former self. Angel didn’t just lose his soul. He took Buffy’s heart along with him.
“There’s something else.”
“What?” Jenny didn’t think she could handle any more of her confessions.
“I had a dream last night. I was at the Bronze. I had on this leather dress and I was waiting for Angelus. I was dancing and then, I felt him. I was so happy, stupid as it sounds. He put his arms around me and I called him Angelus.”
Jenny noticed the tears in the young girl’s eyes. “But it was Angel. Not Angelus.”
Buffy sniffled and nodded. “I couldn’t believe it. For the first time since I realized he was gone, it felt like I could breathe again. But the way Angel looked at me…he knew about Angelus. He was so cold. He told me it was over and then…then he opened the door and tried to walk out in the sunlight. I went to stop him, but Angelus appeared and held me back. I watched him burn.”
“What are you asking me, Buffy?” but Jenny already knew what she would say.
“My dreams about Angel have this strange knack for coming true. Do you think…do you think he can see me? Do you think Angel knows how badly I’ve betrayed him?”
“Honestly, Buffy,” she was going to tell her that most vampire souls ended up in the ether. Their own view of what heaven would be for them. But then there are the exceptionally powerful vampires like Angelus who can retain their soul without allowing it to possess them. Jenny was sure Angelus had done this just so Angel would have a front row seat, helpless only to watch as he destroyed his lover’s life. Buffy noticed her hesitation. Her lips trembled and tears welled in her eyes. “Angel’s in the ether. He’s experiencing his own personal heaven. Free from the guilt. Free from the torment. Free from everything in this world that hurt him. And if I know Angel, he’s experiencing it with you.”
Jenny watched the girl leave. Her shoulders lightened from sharing the burden of her secrets. Jenny decided then and there that she would do whatever was necessary to restore Angel’s soul. Even if it killed her.
“How long are you bloody well going to drag this thing out?” Spike questioned.
Angelus laid back on one of the factory’s conveyor belts twirling his favorite ruby encrusted Irish dagger. He won it in a gambling game two nights before he became a vampire. “For as long as I like.”
“You know,” he began, ignoring his grandsire’s irritable groan as he prepared for what was sure to be a long tirade on his methods in handling the Slayer. “The Angelus I knew would keep the bloody bint alive for a few hours, five tops, before he broke every bone in her body, drained her dry and left her strung up somewhere like a celebratory banner for her family to find! But you,” he gestured to Angelus’ smirking form. “You’re like a bleeding cat dangling a piece of cheese in front of a mouse.”
“My cock’s been called a lot of things, but I don’t believe a piece of cheese has ever made the cut.”
Spike gnashed his teeth. “The point I’m trying to make –.”
“The point you’re trying to make is that our free reign of Sunnydale is long overdue and as long as I keep the Slayer alive as my pet, we will never have it. Does that about sum it up?”
“In a nutshell,” he grumbled.
“Spike, Spike, Spike,” he sighed. “My fretful childe, must we go over this every single day? Simply killing the Slayer is not enough. She is the strongest of her kind. And a quick, random death would be a waste and a terrible insult to what she is. When I kill the Slayer it will be done in the most brutal, horrific and meticulous manner. The Council may even pack up their toys and leave the sandbox for good.” In one quick and nimble movement, he flipped off the conveyor belt. “I want her name to be spoken in reverence and fear. I want her death to be spoken of for centuries to come.” He kneeled in front of Spike so that they were on eyelevel. “I want the Slayers of the present and the future to dread ever answering to the Call. I want every Watcher to look at their Slayer in fear. Fear that she could fall as low as our girl has. Her execution will be center stage, my childe, and even as history ages and time degrades the human memory, no one, no one, shall forget their Slayer, their champion, crawling on her hands and knees. Naked. Shivering. Tears in her eyes with nothing left to fight for. She will look to me, Spike. She will look to me and beg, ‘eviscerate me, my love!’ I will take all that she has and more when there is nothing left to take. She will die, oh die she will, and no one will dare to accuse the Scourge of Europe of feeling anything but malice and vengeance ever again.”
Spike swallowed as he stared into his grandsire’s hardened eyes. “A simple ‘she’ll be dead soon’ would have sufficed,” he mumbled.
Drusilla trailed into the room with Sunshine clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pulled down into a frown. “What’s wrong, love?” Spike asked, holding his arms open for her.
“Daddy,” she ignored him and turned to Angelus, missing the flash of pain in her mate’s eyes.
“What is it, princess?” Angelus said, hugging her to him.
“She doesn’t want you to play with Kitten anymore,” she pouted.
Angelus knew she was talking about the Slayer. “Who doesn’t want me to play with Kitten, princess?”
“The Mean Teacher. She wants Kitten to get her claws back and use Daddy’s strength against him.”
It took only seconds for Angelus to work out Drusilla’s vision. “The Stone of Satyriasis.”
Spike’s pouting went away and his eyes stretched. “The Stone of Satyriasis?” he said, incredulously. “The Slayer must be all kinds of desperate to go through those lengths.”
“She is very desperate, Spike,” he smirked. “Did you see anything else, princess?”
“The Mean Teacher wants to hurt you, Daddy. She has all kinds of bad intentions. She wants to destroy our happy home,” she moaned.
“Oh, hush, hush,” he consoled. “Daddy will take care of everything.”
“Promise?” she said in her childlike voice.
“I promise.” He kissed the top of her head and deposited her onto Spike’s waiting lap. “Leave me,” he ordered. Angelus resumed his position on top of the conveyor belt after they were gone. So little Janna wanted to play with him? Angelus knew many games they could play. But he would wait. Killing her would be no problem. But he had to do it in a way that his little Slayer and her faithful Watcher would feel it the most. Who knows? If he planned it just right, he could have them all ready to stone their faithful Buffy for her sins by the end of the week.
Yes, Angelus would wait before he killed the little teacher. But he would not wait to punish Buffy.

A/N: Song Lyrics: Evanescence - Missing
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Eviscerate Me, My Love