Dark Kitten

TITLE: Dark Kitten
AUTHOR: Fyredansa
EMAIL: Fyredansa@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: My take on how things may have gone, if Xander hadn't been snatched from Drusilla by the screaming mob of girls during 'Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered.'
FEEDBACK: Hey, if you like it, please comment. If not, I'll go and sulk in the corner.
DISTRIBUTION: My Imoortal Beloved and anywhere else that wants it - just ask and you shall receive!
SPOILERS: Pretty much just 'B, B & B'.
COUPLE: Dru/Xander, Dru/Angelus, Dru/Spike, Xander/ Spike, Dru/Spike/Xander
RATING: R...maybe. I don't know.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. I never will own them. I'm poor. Don't sue me, please. Nuff said.BR> CLASSIFICATION: I could write more...I think...I like this Xander *drools*
NOTES: This was actually based on a challenge I saw on - Insanity -
Must have these things in the fic:
Keep Cordelia alive in the universe.
Must use these three lines
"Mummy just loves dark hair."
"Dru, sweetie, your insane and I love you"
Come here, kitten. I won't hurt you much."
Leather should be involved somehow.

DEDICATED: Anyone who actually reads it :-D

He couldn’t say how it happened.

One minute, he and Cordelia were running away from the mob of screaming girls at the school, the next moment, he was aware of a strange blackness creeping into his consciousness, a scream from Cordelia, then nothing.

Nothing until he woke.

Then he suddenly had the strangest urge to be unconscious again, the voices making his head feel like it was about to implode.

And not just any voices.

“I made you crazy, you stupid bitch.” Angel...or Angelus...or whoever. Xander’s mind vaguely registered the fact that he was cold and he could hear the voice of the vampire who wanted him dead. “But not that crazy!”

“Miss Edith tells me that you’re jealous.” An accented, young woman’s voice replied childishly. Not that she was actually acting like a child. She simply sounded like one. Wiggy.

“Me?” Angelus snarled. There was a loud crash beyond the teen’s awareness, but it still made his head throb unbearably. “Jealous of that pathetic, cowering, whining, useless piece of crap?”

Compliments all round in Deadboyland, huh? Xander’s mind wandered, his eyes refusing to co-operate with his desire to see.

There was a hiss, followed by a slapping sound and a growl from Angelus. “You leave my kitten alone.” The woman’s voice had sunk to a sultry, strangely erotic half-growl, half-purr. “You’ll scare him. Only I get to play.”

There was a long silence and the teen briefly wondered if his ‘saviour’ had been killed off by Angelus and if he was about to become an early lunch for the evil, blood-sucking fiend.

A low wail broke the silence, again the woman. A shiver ran down the brunette’s spine, the cry like that of a young child or an animal in pain, keening. It was as eerie as it was hauntingly beautiful...in a sick and twisted way.

Angelus’ voice broke in frantically, as the wail grew louder. “I’ll make a deal with you.” There was a temporary lull in the cry. “I’ll let you play with your kitten.” The vampire said resignedly. “But as soon as you’re bored...”

I become a nummy treat, Xander thought dryly. How reassuring.

In the distance, a door slammed and there was silence, but for the soft swish-swish-swish of long skirts brushing across a smooth wooden floor. The surface Xander was lying on shifted and he felt a body lie down alongside the left side of his body, one arm draping across his waist protectively.

“I’ll take care of you, my dear.” The voice whispered in the startled teen’s ear. “I won’t let ’im eat you all up.” The top of a head brshed against his chin. “My dark little kitten is safe now.”

Weakly raising his hand, his tentatively touched the fingers that trailed down his right side, long nails brushing across his skin, the chilly fingertips setting off alarm bells in his head.

His brown eyes fluttered open slowly to be met by wide, child-like – and yet not – smoky blue eyes, huge in their owner’s chalk-white face.

“Who-who are you?” Making his mouth move was the ultimate effort and all to no avail as one cold fingertip pressed to his lips, the striking woman kneeling over him.

“Sh! Hush now, luv.” The woman leaned forward, her dark hair tumbling around her familiar face, a enigmatic smile curling her lips. “You’re weak. You’re weak like I was. Like my Spike is. You need to rest. Mummy’ll take care of you.”

“Drusilla?” Oh gawd. Xander’s head fell back into the pillows, a weak moan of despair escaping him. Of all the girls in Sunnydale, he had to be caught by the only gorgeous female vampire.

And, he added wryly, there’s going to be a moral in this story about using magick for my own purposes, isn’t there, G-man?

“You remember mummy?” She sounded almost surprised, a bright smile crosing her face for less than a heartbeat. Leaning on his chest, she gazed down at him, one finger toying the kiss-curl on his forehead.

“How could I forget?” Through a dry throat, Xander spoke weakly, his eyes never left the vampiress’ face. Dangerous. Insane. Dangerous. Insane. Thundering through his mind, those two words repeated over and over. Dangerous. Insane. She’s not at all beautiful or adorable. She’s dangerous and insane. Dangerous and insane.

Lowering her head, she planted a butterfly’s kiss to his forehead, her fingers running through his tangled hair. “Mummy just loves dark hair.” She whispered softly, pushing it back from his eyes. “Soft and dark and pretty. Not like daddy’s. Daddy’s hair is like baby stakes all waiting for my heart.”

“I think that was a compliment.” Shakily sitting up, Xander moaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his throbbing forehead.

His eyes flitted around the room. Okay. We have four walls. A ceiling. Boarded-up windows. A bed. I think I must be in a vampire’s bedroom. With a beautiful female vampire. C’mon Xander, time for your regular, sharp-shooting joke. Okay, time to pee your pants, but I think we can skip that too.

A small bedside lamp lit the room and from what he could see, it was almost all decorated in blacks and grey. Chilling and stark and remarkably right for a vampire, although he prefered to think of her in a room of scarlets and plum shade...wait a freakin’ minute!

He didn’t prefer to think of her at all! She was a blood-sucking fiend, just like Angelus and she had kidnapped him and...

“The nasty girls were hunting you.” Her fingers traced patterns in the folds of the blacket on the bed, her eyes following the ripples in the material. “One of them tried to cut you down with an ax.” She looked up at him, almost shyly. “I stopped the little tree from making you fall.”

Willow. Willow had tried to kill him. She had been leading the pack of crazed females, armed with an ax.

Squinting at the vampiress, he felt her hand touch his and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I guess I should say thank you.” He tried to smile, but the fact she was a vampire and was insane and would probably kill him still made him a little jumpy.

Ducking her head, he was convinced he saw a flush of red spread across her pale cheeks. “I didn’t want anyone to hurt my kitten.” She whispered, pushing herself back and off the bed.

Drifting over to a small table on the other side of the room, she glanced back at him, her full-length white dress pooling around her feet as she walked, the lace and silk rustling in the silence that spread between the two.

Her palms spread on the cloth covering the table, smoothing the wrinkles out as she turned her attention to the large china bowl sitting there. Dipping a cloth into the water, she beckoned the dark-haired human over with a patient smile.

“Come here, kitten. I won't hurt you...much.” Her eyes flitted to the bruises and cuts that marred his face and neck. “You look all crusty and messy.” Tutting, she gestured again, smiling brightly as he stumbled to his feet and crossed the room, sinking down onto one of the leather-covered chairs.

The rough black leather felt surprisingly cool and good against his skin, his body aching from head to toe – head in particular.

Tilting his head back weakly against the back of the chair, he moaned as the dark vampiress ran one cool hand down his cheek, her other hand gently sponging the matted blood and dirt off his face.

“Is that better, kitten?” She cooed in his ear, her long, silken hair brushing across his shoulders as she moved behind him, drawing his head to rest against her breast.

Too comfortable for words, the teen nodded slowly. “Uh huh.”

Her fingers wound into his hair at his temples, gently massaging with those skilled, cool fingers, a soft purring sound thrumming through her chest, making Xander’s ears buzz ticklishly.

But he didn’t pull away.

“Do you remember what I told you, my dear?” Her lips were cool against his ear, light and soft.

Frantically searching his memory, he dredged up words that were spoken equally gently, as icy fingers swept lightly across his face. “My face is a poem?” He asked hopefully, praying the other part had just been imagination.

“That it is.” A smile lit up her face. “Such a beautiful poem.” Kissing his temple, she nuzzled his hair. “But I asked you something else, didn’t I, dear? Something that scares you. You don’t want to remember.” He felt her lips curve downwards. “Don’t you want to stay with mummy, kitten?”

The name Cordelia surged through his head. He had wanted Cordelia. That was why he had done the spell in the first place. He didn’t want to be stuck with a loony vampire for all eternity.

Did he?

He had seen the sensuality that all vampires seemed to possess. The triad being the most sexually appealing group he had ever laid eyes on. Like he had with Cordelia, he had seen a mysterious appeal in the thing he hated most.

As ashamed and mortified as he was, he had found himself fantasising about all of them, from the evil Angelus to the cool and cynical Spike to this mysterious, raven-haired woman who cleaned his wounds.

Even the way they held themselves, the way they walked and talked and moved…everything about them stirred something dark within him. Something that reminded him of the feelings he had felt during that incident with the hyenas. A kind of emotion he thought he had gotten rid of.

But, deep down, he knew it was there, always lurking, like a shadow, just waiting for the moment when it could emerge and possess his body, make him what he truly wanted to be. Not a pathetic little schoolboy, but a dangerous animal.

The wildness he craved was personified in these creatures of the night, the vampires that were human, but…not. It was a feeling and fire no normal human could ever hope to even mildly arouse in him. He wanted to be the hunter and the hunted. He wanted to fight for a mate and kill on a whim.

He wanted everything that he had been taught was wrong. Bad. Not good. Not at all acceptable for someone in the Slayer’s gang of groupies.

“Drusilla.” He tested her name on his tongue, slowly turning and rising to his feet, a dark, predatory smile curling his lips back from his teeth. It was time to give in to the darkness. “You are my Drusilla.”

“Kitten?” The vampiress’ head tilted in curiousity, her eyes widening in startled pleasure as he jerked her body into his arms, kissing with a savage hunger only usually reserved for Angelus, and then, only when he was in his darkest mood.

Her mind swam as the human’s tongue thrust rudely into her mouth, battling with her own. The moon and stars had argued and told her this would be silly, but she hadn’t listened to them. They couldn’t see into her kitten’s heart like she could. They thought the same way as her daddy, not looking passed the pretty kitten’s playact.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she felt his heartrate accelerate, his arousal more than apparent to her as she deepened the fierce kiss.

No longer clumsy and hesitant, he tore aside her skirts, his hands roming the sleek, smooth planes of her body roughly, his mouth trailing a path down her throat and chest as the tattered remains of her dress dropped to the wooden floor.

Backing her against the nearest wall, he pulled back to stare at her hungrily, one of his strong hands pinning her wrists against the panelling above her head as he spread her thighs.

“My dark little kitten.” She hissed, arching against his hand as it slipped between her legs, brushing over her sensitive nub.

Those dark brown eyes rose to meet hers, that sneer – so like Angelus’ – curling the corner of his mouth sardonically. “You are mine.” He growled gutturally, claiming her mouth again, thrusting a finger roughly into her opening that was already moist with anticipation. “Mine.” He repeated, grinning as she mewled and bucked against his probing fingers.

Drawing his hand away from her, he loosened his belt, thrusting into the vampiress eagerly, letting her coolness envelope him, long, pale legs twining around his waist, forcing him deeper and deeper.

Splinters of wood scraped into her back, her cold blood flowing quickly, staining the dark walls, the friction of the rough, ancient panels of uncared-for pine against her skin tearing away the top layer of her flesh. Her demon face rose, a husky growl of pleasure rumbling through her body.

Xander’s eyes darkened hungrily, the scent of blood reminding him of running with the pack, all qualms about giving in to the darkness being forgotten as he rode on the waves of pleasure and desire for the sobbing, clawing, raputurous creature pinned between himself and the wall.

Grinding against her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, claiming her as his in the only way the remains of his hyena spirit knew how.

Drusilla threw back her head with a shrill howl of pleasure, the combination of his heat and his teeth tearing into her flesh too much, her orgasm rocking her as she felt a burning flow erupt deep inside her body.

“My Xander.” She growled, her fangs grazing his cheek, her tongue flicking out to catch the drops of blood that oozed from his split skin.

Crushing her cold mouth in a wild kiss, the teen sank to his knees, taking the crooning vampiress with him, her body sagging against his chest, one hand tangling through her mussed hair. Curled between his legs, she splayed one hand on his chest, her nails moving in elaborate circles.

Moving across her back, his fingertips were soaked with her chilled blood, a low snarl of pleasure breaking from his lips. Shifting her weight in his arms, he looked at his hand, stained crimson, a confused expression on his face.

“You let the darkness come out to play.” The vampiress whispered, her eyes never leaving his face. “It was the real you, not the silly puppy dog of the Slayer.” One nail traced down his cheek. “You like the darkness, don’t you, kitten?”

He shook his head, trying to deny the pleasure he had felt when he had drawn blood, when he had made her scream in a combination of pain and delight. “I don’t know, Drusilla.” He whispered.

The vampiress stared at him, her eyes emotionless. Lifting herself slightly, she smiled cruelly, raking her nails viciously down his bare chest with a questioning expression on her face.

“Bitch.” He growled, the scent of the blood stirring him, her hand sliding down his body and caressing him to a painful erection.

“Tell me you like it, kitten.” She purred, pushing him away from her, using her strength to her advantage. Xander snarled at her, trying to force his way closer. “Tell me, kitten, and mummy might let you play.”

“There’s no might, sweetheart.” Lunging at her, he pinned her down and savagely thrust into her, her shriek of pain music to his ears. “And. I. Like. It.” Punctuating each word with a vicious thrust, her blood coated both of them.

Drusilla grinned, grabbing his head and crushing his mouth to hers again. Her mental voice chattered triumphantly. I knew the moon and the stars and daddy were all wrong. I knew there was a dark part of my kitten. I told them. But no one listened and now I have a new kitten who will stay with me forever and ever. And this one won’t go to the Slayer. Not like daddy and my sweet Spike. They both stink of wanting her. But not my precious black kitten. He wants the darkness and badness. Not the goodness of the Slayer.

Her hands twined into his hair and jerked his head back, baring his throat to her, a low hiss escaping him as she plunged her fangs into his exposed neck, his heated blood pouring between her lips as his hips continued to thrust their savage motion between her thighs.

Shuddering with his final climax, the dark-haired teen’s body slumped down on the vampiress’, her mouth withdrawing from his throat reluctantly, as she rolled him onto his back, one arm supporting his shoulder and sank her fangs into her slender wrist.

“Drink up, kitten.” She whispered, lowering the cut to his mouth, smiling as he latched onto it. “Soon you’ll be big and strong, just like mummy.”

Somewhere deep in Xander’s mind, he registered the tang of blood on his lips, the memory of the shell that had once been all-around good guy, Xander Harris melting away, as he felt his system flooding with new sensations.

He was with his mistress now. And he planned on staying that way.


It’s lucky I’m not claustrophobic. Very lucky, in fact.

The last thing I remember is Dru telling me I should stay underground for a few extra days, just so that the Slayer doesn’t catch me when I decide the time is right to pop up and take over the world.

And I’ve always wanted to do that. Give the oh-so-scary Angelus a good ass kicking, take away everything that he held dear, ruin his unlife the way he ruined my mortal one and show him I’m not the goof anymore.

Soon, they’re all going to see how much they underestimated me. Me. Alexander Lavelle Harris.

Even at my funeral, there was all the usual ‘He was such a nice boy…he didn’t deserve it’ crap. How patronising does that sound when its about you? Well, I guess most people are never lucky enough to find out and to be able to laugh at the people who once cared about them.

To them, I’m maggot food now. Poor, poor pathetic Xander. He was useless and sweet, what a shame. Didn’t know how to fight a vampire. Got himself killed for doing a silly little spell.

Got himself laid and given a chance for freedom.

Even Angelus doesn’t know. He may be the big bad in Sunnydale now, but he’s gonna be taught a lesson. He deserves it after what he did. Not to me, but to Dru. My mate. My beautiful, mystical mate.

He found her, with my body. He went crazy. Crazier than anything I’d heard before, telling her she was a stupid useless piece of shit for ruining all of his plans. He even threatened to stake her for taking away his kill.

He’s going to regret that.

I may be just a fledgling. I’ve seen plenty of them before, but not many fledglings come equipped with the knowledge I do. The knowledge that is only held by the members of the Slayer’s gang.


Then we have my two demons. No one knew that a little of the hyena lived on inside me. To be honest – for once – there was a lot people didn’t know about me. I was stronger than I let on, I deliberately failed those tests. I didn’t want to be seen as anything more than a goof until the time was right.

Maybe it was my demon keeping me quiet. Maybe it knew what was coming. What I was destined to become. Whatever it was, I told no one that I was easily as strong as Buffy, that I could give them all solutions to situations that needed resolved. No one knew. Not even the soulbouy, which surprised me. He couldn’t sense one of my demons. I wonder how he’ll deal with both.

I can’t even say why, but when my twin demons willingly combined, the surge of power was incredible. I feel more alive than I ever did as a human. I know I can act without being chastised for my behaviour and if anyone tries to chastise me…well, I’m always hungry, as usual.

Now, I just have to wait for the moment, until I know it is safe, then I’ll be up and about and wreaking havoc before you can say uncle.

And a fun time should be had by all.


Rocking herself back and forward, the dark vampiress stared blankly at the wall, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, the marblesque flesh of her back criss-crossed with livid weals, the remains of the lashing that Angelus’ had given her, not for pleasure, but for sheer punishment.

“Dru,” Spike touched her head gently, frowning when she cringed away from his hand. “Are you all right, pet?”

Raising her eyes, she stared at him. “I want my dark kitten.” She whispered hoarsely, her toes curling and uncurling on the floor, her fingernails sinking into the flesh of her upper arms. “My black kitten will cuddle me and make me all better and make daddy stop being mean.”

“Yeah…” Turning to Angelus’ back, Spike enquired. “Hey, daddy, you know anything about a black kitten?”

His hands folded behind his back, Angelus growled deep in his throat and Drusilla scrambled backwards hastily, cowering in a corner, her arms folded over her head in sheer terror.

“What did she get the whippin’ for anyway?” The wheelchair-bound blonde asked, remembering the last time he had been at the receiving end with a shudder of pain.

Turning, in full game-face, the elder vampire glared at his elder childe furiously, her body seeming to shrink before his eyes. “My Drusilla here,” He said coldly. “Screwed the Slayer’s friend and then killed him.”

“And that’s bad because…?” Spike quirked his scarred eyebrow.

“Because it completely ruined my plans and she has been stinking of the whiny little bastard for the last week and a half.” Slamming his fist against the wall, the dark vampire hissed. “He had such a vile stench, I can’t stand to be near her.”

“So you whip the skin off her back.” His younger childe remarked dryly. “Very good work, old man.”

Grabbing the insolent British vampire by the front of his shirt, Angelus jerked him upwards, their faces inches apart. “She was a bad girl.” He growled dangerously, a hidden threat luring in his voice. “She had to be taught a lesson.”

“And you were the one to do that?” A new voice interupted from the doorway.

Both the vampires turned, not noticing Drusilla’s luminous face rising, a smile curving her lips.

Leaning against the doorframe, the newcomer was barely recognisable, his lower body encased on painted-on, black leather trousers, a thick chain swinging from the waistband. A skin-tight red t-shirt covered his torso, the entire ensemble topped off by a thigh-length, leather jacket.

“Oh God,” Throwing his hands up in a combination of despair and disbelief, Angelus shook his head. “I don’t believe it. You turned that pathetic little prick? What the hell were you thinking, Dru?”

“So she screwed ‘that’ Slayer’s friend.” Spike’s disbelief matched his Sire’s. “And I thought the chit had semi-decent taste!”

“Oh, she does.” Lazily examining his nails, the vampire raised his brown eyes to his grandsire and Spike, a mischievous smile on his face. “Only some people around this hellhole were just to damn stupid to notice.”

Angelus stalked towards the boy. “You,” He growled dangerously. “Get out of my lair and stay away from my childe or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Whoa!” Holding up his hands in submission, Xander laughed. “Cool it, grandad. I just came to take what’s mine.”

Gleaming gold, Angelus’ eyes blazed, his lips curling back to bare his fangs at his grandchilde who non-chalantly grinned.

“Nice set of ivories you got there, pops.”

“Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean I won’t still kill you.” Grabbing the young vampire by the throat, Angelus slammed him against the doorframe, his claws digging into the fledgling’s flesh.

Xander feigned a struggle, jutting out his lower lip. “Now that’s just mean!” he whined indignantly, before ramming his foot viciously into the eldest vampire’s stomach, sending him careening across the room. Brushing his shirt down, he shrugged. “But permit me not to give a flying fuck.”

“What the hell…?” Spike stared at his junior in disbelief. Never had he seen a fledgling able to reach such a strength in such a short time.

Straightening his jacket, Xander tilted his head at the blonde vampire. “Hey, uncle Spike, do you want to go one-on-one with me?” Leaning close, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, he grinned like a naughty child. “I mean, you can roll with the punches and everything.”

“What is the deal with this?” Spike groaned. “Is there a sign above my head that says ‘Every bloody wanker can come and make a prick out of me!’ over my head or something?”

“If only it was that simple.” Xander patted him on the head. “Sorry, ‘mate’, but you are just a prick. You don’t need any sign to say it for you.”

Spike’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury. “First Angelus, now my nephew. This is just fan-bleedin-tastic!” He feigned a note of humour, scowling at the younger, dark-haired vampire.

“That it is.” Extending his hand to the vampiress, Xander smiled, drawing her into his arms. “You look better than ever, my mistress.” He murmured, kissing her silky, white throat.

“And you smell full of power, my black kitten.” She growled, playfully snapping at his bared neck. “Such power and strength.”

Smiling, he glanced beyond her at Angelus. “And your daddy doesn’t know, does he?” She shook her head with a secretive smile. “But he hurt you too, didn’t he?” His hand moved across her scarred back slowly, his brown eyes flecked with gold.

“I kept a secret.” She whispered, nuzzling the sensitive spot below his ear. “He didn’t believe me when I said you would be a good boy.” Draping her arms round her childe, she nipped his earlobe. “They never listen to me.”

“Didn’t you ask why?” Angelus finally managed to stumble to his feet, clutching his ribs painfully. “You are insane. Completely loony. I mean, you made that useless pillock into a vampire…that’s insanity.”

Her lower lip trembled, a pinkish tear breaking from the corner of her eye and trickling down her cheek,a low wail rising from her throat.

Xander’s voice brought her back, her fingers gently tilting her chin. “Dru,” He murmured, kissing her lips gently. “Sweetie, you’re insane.” He gazed into her eyes with a smile, his finger touching her lips and stifling her protests. “And I love you.”

“Really?” Filled with hysteria and hope, her smoky eyes stared longingly at him.

“Would I lie to you, mistress?” Quirking an eyebrow, he kissed her again, seemingly oblivious to the threat from Angelus, his arms winding tightly around her body.

Abruptly, one fist jerked upwards, smashing into Angelus’ face, just beyond his mate’s shoulder, the elder vampire stumbling back with a hoarse bellow of pain, blood spurting from his shattered nose and the gap where his front teeth were missing.

“You know, sweetheart.” Pushing Drusilla behind him gently, Xander frowned. “I just remembered that I really, really don’t like your Sire.” Stepping closer to the taller vampire, he glanced back at his mate. “Can I kill him?”

She made no response, simply smiling and lifting herself to sit on the edge of the small table.

“You can’t kill your Sire.” Angelus spat, his blood spraying across Xander’s face.

The young vampire looked at him skeptically. “That didn’t stop you.” He remarked, driving his fist into Angelus’ gut. “Anyway, you’re not my Sire so you can’t tell me what to do. If I kill you, it was for the right to take Drusilla as my mate.” Kicking the older vampire viciously in the groin, he grinned as Angelus folded, slumping to his knees with a groan. “Although I already did that against a wall in your bedroom.”

“I’ll tear you apart.” Angelus’ demon visage rose, his expression as black as thunder. “With my bare hands.”

Xander yawned, giving the elder vampire a bored look. “I doubt that, deadboy.” He remarked. “I’ve got something that you don’t.”

Playing into his grandchilde’s hands, the dark vampire narrowed his eyes. “And what’s that?”

“These!” In the blink of an eye, Angelus was flat on his back on the floor, four stakes protruding neatly from his shoulders and hips, a fifth aimed above his groin. Xander smirked, dipping his finger in his grandsire’s spreading pool of blood. “And the stunningly good looks.” He added, licking his fingertips.

Stifling a yowl of pain, Angelus growled, reaching up and tugging the stakes out of his body with a grunt of pain, the wounds starting to heal immediately.

“You know, deadboy, you’re dumber than I thought.” Xander kicked him down again, his foot locking across Angelus’ throat. “I mean, two hundred years plus and you don’t even notice. How is it possible for anyone to be so blind?”

The young vampire’s unique scent washed over his victim, still tainted with his mortal scent that was only ever him. Angelus sniffed again, his eyes widening in shocked understanding.

“The hyena.”

Making a drumroll noise, Xander put on a gameshow host’s voice. “And what does he win, Frankie?”

“What did I miss?” Spike demanded, his eyes flitting from one vampire to the other.

Xander grinned wickedly, a demented chuckle erupting from his lips. “I’m bigger and badder than any old vamp.” He replied, moving to Drusilla’s side and gathering her in his arms. “My mistress knew it. No one else could see it, but my precious did and helped me to accept it.”

“Uh…that explained bugger all.”

The youngest of the four vampire’s sighed, whirling in a circle as his mate giggled happily in his arms. “I thought he was meant to be smart, beautiful.” He murmured to Drusilla, before smiling brightly at Spike. “What it means,” He stated coolly. “Is that I have two demons. And not just any two demons. Two nasty, hungry, big-ol'-bitey demons who seem to like each other too much to vacate the premises.”

“And I think now is a good time to say ‘Oh shit!’.” Spike wheeled back as Xander let his demon faces rise.

The boy’s vampire visage was – in general – like any other, but his eyes gleamed a luminous green, his fangs longer and sharper than any vampire’s, his face shifting shape and elongating to a more animalistic form.

“Whatddya say, sweetheart?” He grinned wickedly down at Drusilla, crushing her mouth in a kiss. “Ain’t I just a cutie?” “You’re beautiful, my darling.” She cooed, nestling against him. “Perfect.”

“Dead.” Angelus spat, grabbing the younger vampire from behind, Drusilla tumbling to the floor from his embrace.

Shrieking, she watched in anticipation, as the two demons circled one another, growling and snarling, both crouching in their favoured fighting positions, burning green eyes meeting demonic gold.

“You know, Angelus.” Xander remarked conversationally, lunging for the older vampire, easily pinning him face first on the floor, his speed and agility surpassing that of the older vampire. “If we had taken the time to get to know each other, I’m sure we would have been friends.” Slamming his fist through the downed vampire’s back, the fledgling tugged out his grandsire’s heart, grinning crazily as both it and Angelus’ body crumbled to dust. “Oh well, looks like we’ll never know.”

Spike looked from the pile of dust that had been his Sire to the young fledgling who had taken him out, a sudden jolt of fear squirming inside him. If Angelus – the scourge of Europe – was taken out so easily by this fledgling, what chance did he – Spike – have?

“I think I made my point.” His face melted back into his human planes, a goofy grin lighting up his features. “Don’t you, sweet?”

Drusilla nodded, drifting over and draping her arms around him. “We’ll be a new family, my dear.” She purred, running her tongue up his cheek. “We’ll feed and play together like we have never done before.”

“So, Spike, old man.” Xander’s arm slid around Drusilla’s waist, a cocky grin on his face. “Will you be joining us?”

“Gee.” The blonde vampire stood up. “Let me think about this…” He looked at the pile of dust that was his Sire, then grinned at the two dark-haired vampires. “Well, why the Hell not?”


Kneeling by the graveside, Cordelia bowed her head, leaning forward to place the small bouquet of flowers of the pile of earth, amid the tiny shoots of grass that were emerging from the damp soil.

Once Amy’s spell had worn off and the truth about the raging mob had been explained, the cheerleader’s guilt had doubled.

It was her fault that he had gone to get a spell. It was her fault the spell had gone wrong and a seething mob of crazed, hormonally-charged females had been trying to kill him. It was her fault that the vampires had captured him when they were trying to make their escape.

It was her fault that he was dead.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks, her shoulder shaking with unheard sobs, her hands bunching in fists on the ground.

“Are you...okay, Cordy?” Willow stood behind her, her hands crossed in front of her body. She – too – felt horribly guilty.

Although the two girls had never gotten along, their mutual love’s death had drawn them closer in their grief. Rising, Cordelia accepted a hug from the slight red-head, both weeping softly.

“I never told him, Will.” The brunette whispered painfully, turning back to the grave, her eyes tracing the words etched in the cold stone. “I’d never felt that way about anyone and now I’ll never be able to tell him.”

Squeezing her companion’s hand gently, Willow murmured, “He knew. I’m sure he knew.” They exchanged tragic smiles. “I never told him either, but he knew.”

“Now, this is just to cute!” A cheerful voice laughingly commented from the deepening shadows around them.

Willow stiffened, recognising the voice before Cordelia had a chance to. “No.” Her voice caught in her throat as she whirled round, suddenly reminded just why it was so bad to be caught in a cemetary, even if the sun had barely set. “It can’t be...”

“What?” Cordelia’s eyes flitted around the darkness trying to pinpoint the location of the owner of the voice, screaming as an icy hand dropped on her shoulder.

Both girls spun round, their faces paling as they took in the nightmarish creature that stood before him, green eyes gleaming ferally in the twilight.


The vampire grinned wickedly, his lips curling back to reveal razor-sharp fangs. “I am so touched.” Inclining his head towards the grave, he chuckled. “I mean, both of you, together, all touchy and stuff...God, it’s like my biggest sexual fantasy...except that you’re both dressed and I’m not screwing you senseless.”

“Who did this to you?” Backing away from him, Willow grasped for a cross she had hidden beneath her clothing, her hands trembling.

“And I though you were the smart scooby.” Shaking his head, he laughed. “Gee, Will, I’d say it was obvious!” Lowering his voice, he gasped, as if scared. “It was vampires! Big, bad, nasty blood-sucking fiends!”

“You’re not you.” Cordelia whispered shakily, her fingers fumbling for the small bottle of holy water she usually carried in her purse.

Xander leered at her. “Oh, but I am, Cordy.” Tilting his head – as if he had a crick in his neck – his face shifted back to the familiar human planes, only paler, leaner and crueller than either of the girls remembered. “And I brought you something to take to the Buffster for me.”

Holding out a ten-inch-cubed wooden box with a thick black ribbow tied around it in a bow, he batted his eyes sweetly.

“Wh-what is it?” Willow suspiciously took the bundle, stepping back from the vampire that had once been her best friend.

He grinned engagingly. “It’s a present.” He replied. “Call it a belated birthday gift. I wanted to give her something really special, you know.” He continued wistfully. “I hope she likes it...I know I had fun getting it.”

Turning, he melted away into the shadows, leaving the two girls staring at it each, unable to believe what they had just seen.


“Do you think this is-is wise, Buffy?” Giles looked down at the box on the table suspiciously, touching the gleaming wood uneasily. “It may be a-a trap or weapon.”

The blonde Slayer nodded slowly, untying the three-inch-wide band of ribbon. “I have to know.” She replied unhappily, still trying to fight passed the news that one of her best and closest friends was not only dead, but a vampire.

Under the band of material, there was a card in a small, black envelope, silver lettering scrawled across the front, in Xander’s lazy, sprawling script.

Opening the card, she started to read falteringly, a lump forming in her throat, tears brimming up and spilling over her eyelids and down her pale cheeks, until she dropped the card and jerked the lid off the box.

With a paiful sob, she turned and fled from the room, the library doors swinging softly back and forth in her wake, her friends staring blankly after her.

“What on earth...?” The watcher retrieved the card from the pace that it had fallen on the floor, slowly starting to read the message aloud.

‘Hey Buffster!
Bet this is a bit of a surprise, huh? What with me being a member of the evil and nasty undead. Just thought I’d send you a nice little present. Since he ruined your birthday, I thought you might like to have him. In a box. Saved you a bit of time and effort, didn’t it? Well, now you don’t need to worry about dear old Angelus. He’s gone. Never to return. No more excuses from you about him. But if you still feel up to humping a corpse, I’ll be waiting. Always there. You know me, Buff. I always get what I want. Always. Even if I have to wait a lifetime. Watch your back, Slayer. I’ll be there.’

Laying the card face-down on the table, Giles peered uneasily into the box, his breath escaping him in a long, slow sigh.

“What is it?” Willow whispered, toying with a crucifix in one hand and a stake in the other, her face gaunt and tragic.

“Xander. He-he killed Angelus.” Gesturing to the box, the Watcher took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. “He threatened Buffy. If he was strong enough to-to kill Angelus, he could...”

Trailing off, he turned to the door, meeting the Slayer’s tear-filled eyes, her hand pressed against the wood. “Kill me?” She asked softly, not needing to hear his words, his expression saying enough.

“I’d say that much was obvious.” A voice floated down from the stacks, a shadow flitting between the shelves and stepping out, silhouetted by the windows, two figures moving in on either side of him.


Tilting his face to the light, the vampire grinned. “Well, gee, Summers.” He whined mournfully. “I thought you would be happy to see me.”

Clapping his hands sharply, the swinging doors behind Buffy flew inwards, several vampires bursting in and taking their positions around the library, around twenty altogether, in addition to the shadowy trio at the top of the stairs, too many for them to take out.

Cordelia, Oz, Willow, Giles and buffy stared around at their captors, then up at the lead vampire, half-terrified, half-confused.

The vampires on the lower floor were known minions of Angelus and the Master, many of them at least a good few years old. All of them, older than the vampire Xander, who had only been dead two weeks.

To add to the confusion, the two vampires that flanked the youngest were familiar too: a peroxide blonde man and a dark, mysterious-looking female. Both were officially more powerful than their junior, and yet they followed him.

“So what are you going to do with us now, Xander?” Plucking up her courage, the Slayer straightened her back, glaring at the dark-haired vampire, as he dropped lightly over the railing and landed in front of her. “Try and scare us?”

Xander laughed softly. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. Then he snapped his fingers, her friends being dragged aside by the minions, leaving her facing the vampire. “You know, Buffy.” He sighed, walking around her slowly. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to kill me. You had such a problem doing Angel...well...not doing. Killing.” he leered at her. "You did the 'doing' just fine, didn't you?"

“Was it you? Did you kill him?” She yelled, smashing her foot into his face in a vicious, roundhouse kick that almost knocked him flat.

But only almost.

“Yeah.” Grinning at her, he rubbed his jaw, catching her ankle and twisting as she aimed another kick at his head. With a jerk, he floored her. “And I did it by ripping his heart out of his body.”

“It was beautiful.” A female voice drew Buffy’s attention briefly away from the dark vampire, a pale face drifting into vision beyond his shoulder. “One minute he was there, then he exploded, filling the sky like little grey stars.”

“Nice imagery.” Xander purred as the vampiress’ tongue curled playfully around his earlobe. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again if it means that you go all poetic on me.” He glanced down at Buffy who was gradually sliding herself backwards across the floor, away from him. His face started to shift, lengthening. “But later...”

“Oh God...” Cordelia pulled back in the grip of the vampire that held her. “What the hell are you?”

“No ordinary vampire, sweetheart.” He grinned, still leaning over Buffy, his green eyes flashing fire.

Trying to gain enough leverage to get to her feet, the Slayer twisted her body swiftly, when the vampire turned his attention to his former-girlfriend, but she didn’t move fast enough, his foot slamming down on her neck, forcing her down – face-first – on the floor.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He tutted, bending and running his tongue over her neck. “that was silly, Buff. I know how you fight remember...”

“You can kill me.” She gasped, his booted foot pressing harder. “But another slayer will be sent...”

Xander laughed. “But they won’t get here in the five minutes it takes for me to kill all your friends, burn the school to the ground and open the Hellmouth...” His hand speared through her back, emerging with the Slayer’s still-pulsing heart gripped between his fingers, as he finished. “Will they?”

“Is dat so?” Two of the minions in the doorway exploded into dust, another two following suite as twin arrows hurtled through the air, inbedding themselves in the backs of the vampires holding the Oz and the Watcher.

Draining the blood from the heart in his hand, the young vampire watched in amusement at the battle that was playing out before him, a careless expression on his face as another wave of minions poured in the doors.

“Damn, I’m good!” He grinned, licking a dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth, watching the Jamaican Slayer and the two men trying to fight their way to the girls, a few clumsy vampires finding themselves on the receiving ends of stakes. “Spike?”

The blonde nodded down. “Whatcha wantin’, mate?”

Standing, Xander dusted his hands down his trousers. “Take Dru home.” He gently directed the vampiress back up the stairs. “I’ll see you back there.”

“If you say so, mate.” Glancing at the fight, Spike grinned.

“I say so.” Xander nodded, tossing the Slayer’s heart aside lazily. “I want to have some fun while I’m still young enough to remember these people.”

Taking Drusilla by the hand, Spike melted into the shadows, as Xander made his way down to face the other Slayer, her swirling cloud of dark hair reminding him of a swarm of flies.

He grinned at the image, as he twisted her hand into the flies, like a greedy spider in the middle of a feast, jerking her back against his chest. “You shouldn’t have come back, Kendra.” He purred, his claws sliding across her neck.

“You tink you can kill de Slayer?” She hissed, twisting around, leaving clumps of her hair caught between his fingers as she stabbed up at his chest with the stake.

“I’ve done it once before, pet.” Coining one of Spike’s favourite phrases, he caught her wrist, chuckling at her terrified expression as the crushed stake fell out of her trembling hand.

“How...?” She looked up at him.

“I watched too many Westerns.” He remarked casually, tapping his chest, a hollow, metallic ringing sounding from it. “Bullet-proof vests...or stake-proof in my case.” Running one hand down her face, he sighed. “I wish it didn’t have to come to this.”

With a savage jerk, the sound of her neck cracking stilled the futile fighting, her head lolling against her shoulder as he plunged his fangs into her throat, draining her barely-living body.

Letting her drop to the floor, her brown eyes glazed, he smiled around at the horrified mortal faces. “Hey man,” He grinned, imitating her Jamaican accent. “I tink I can kill de Slayer.”

“Why are you doing this, Xander?” Willow managed to whisper tearfully.

The vampire regarded her quizzically. “Cos I want to.” He frowned, looking at one of the older minions. “That is the right answer, isn’t it?” Shrugging, he looked at the four faces before him, a cock-sure grin on his lips. “I could kill you all, you know.”

“Tell us something we don’t know, Harris.” Cordelia – her face stained with tears – winced as the vampire holding her tightened its grip, snarling.

Xander tutted and immediately punched the vampire holding her in the face, downing him. “But I’m not going to.” He finished, gently cupping Cordelia’s chin, his demon visage melting away. Unable to fight as his lips covered hers, she shivered at the chill. “I’m what I am because of you. All of you.”

“But Xander...” Another of the minions snapped.

There was a flash of metal, then the familiar explosion of dust showered the youngest vampire’s clothing. "No respect." The brunette vampire sighed. "They never just take orders anymore."

“You killed Buffy...and Kendra...” Giles stared at the once-clumsy boy, sickened by his apparent ease and skill with violence and death. “I don’t understand why you don’t kill us too.”

“Giles, old man...” Shaking his head, the vampire exhaled an unneeded breath, clapping the Watcher on the shoulder. “If it would make you feel better if I killed you, I will. Don’t worry.” Gesturing to the bodies of the two girls on the floor of the library, he shrugged. “As for them, it couldn’t be helped.”

“What are you talking about?” Oz gasped in pain as the young vampire twisted his arm behind his back.

“You’re lucky I don’t drain you too, wolfboy.” He snarled, before dropping the teen and pacing back across the the Slayers corpses. “You see, being a vampire gives me a right to murder the people who murder my kind...a sort of poetic justice.” He prodded Kendra’s body with the toe of his boot. “They were the only ones to pose a true threat to me, so they had to be...disposed of.”

“We don’t pose a threat?” Willow seemed almost offended, in spite of her heartbroken state. Seeing one best friend killed by another definitely wasn’t her idea of fun.

Xander chuckled, walking back up the flight of stairs. “Hell, no.” He grinned, brushing a speck of non-existant dust off his jacket. “I’m the new Master of the Hellmouth and if you leave me alone, me and my crew won’t open it.”

“You’re the new master?” Giles echoed skeptically, with a shudder of fear, as Xander’s demon features rose again.

“That’s right, G-Man...oh! I can’t call you that?” He smirked. “Or can I? No big. I killed the last master on my first outing. Poor old Angelus. Didn’t know what had hit him. Tore his heart right out of his body. Twin demons can do that...give you that little bit more...stamina.”

It took the Watcher a moment to work through the boy’s words. “Wh-what do you mean?” He asked falteringly. “Twin demons?”

“I must be the first.” Xander released a peal of demented laughter. “I’ve been possessed before...remember...” He grinned toothily at the watcher. “Apparently, I was never fully...exorcised.” He started cackling again, the laughter bringing a surge of memories back to all but Oz. “Me and my two demons seem to get on so well that we’re going to unlive happily ever after.”

The silence between the people he had once called friends was deafening, until Giles finally spoke. “You won’t open the Hellmouth if we leave you alone?”

“Me, my Mistress and Spike.” He shrugged. “I don’t care about the others. Mostly they were Soulboy’s property.” Quirking his head, he raised an eyebrow. “Do we have a deal, Watcher?”

“I’ll be fired for this, but yes.” Sighing, the Englishman nodded.

“Spiffy!” Xander’s face split in a grin. Winking, he blew a kiss at them. “Remember, I know where you all live, I know how you think and I can tell when you’re up to something, so I’d advise you not to piss me off.”

With those words, he jauntily leapt up the stairs and disappeared through the cellar behind the stacks, his crew following in his wake, leaving the four humans standing in the deserted library, the bloodied corpses of two young girls sprawled on the floor.


“My dark kitten!” On stepping into the mansion, Xander promptly found himself with an armful of Drusilla, his face covered in kisses. “You killed them both, didn’t you? No more Slayers!”

Crushing her mouth to his, her fangs sank into his lip, drawing blood swiftly. “That’s right, my Mistress.” He growled, nibbling his way down her throat and plunging his teeth into the swell of her breast that peeped over the bodice of her dress.

Drusilla gave a happy gasp, pushing his mouth harder against her, her fingers running through the tangled curls of his black hair.

“Ahem.” Both raised their eyes to see Spike watching them from the top of the stairs with apparent amusement. “I was just wondering if there’s anything you need done, oh master of the Hellmouth.”

“Aren’t you a cocky one.” Xander scooped his mate up in his arms, ascending the stairs swiftly to stop in front of the blond vampire, lowering Drusilla to her feet. “I think I’ll have to find some way to keep that wicked mouth of yours busy.”

Before the bleached vampire had a chance to react or move, Xander pulled him into a savage kiss, his tongue forcing Spike’s lips apart and tackling his tongue into a battle for domination.

Pulling away, Spike was convinced his legs had taken leave and that he was about to sink to the floor in a puddle. If he had known the whelp could kiss like that, he probably would have turned him as well.

“Bloody hell...” He mumbled under his non-existant breath, shaking from unfulfilled lust, as Xander’s tongue ran along his fangs, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.

“I’ve heard a saying,” The dark-haired vampire remarked, tracing the outline of Spike’s lips with his thumb, then repeating the action with Drusilla using his other hand, her eyes widening in anticipation. “That two’s company...three’s a crowd...”

“Fuck that!” Spike gasped, as Xander’s hand rudely grabbed his crotch, his erection swelling against the boy’s hand. "Three sounds bloody good to me!"

Taking him by the hand, Drusilla pulled Xander towards the bedroom, his powerful hand assuring that Spike followed – if he wanted his family jewels to remain intact.


Lying amid the tangle of the two century-old vampires’ limbs, Xander felt a cool smile curling his lips.

He was the Master of Sunnydale, the hellmouth – El Boco del Infierno. He was the newest, biggest bad in the town. He had killed two Slayers in one night, which had to be some kind of record.

Rolling his hips lazily, he felt Drusilla’s slender hand latch onto his half-erect cock again, Spike’s own erection pressing firmly against his backside already, rubbing against the bare skin.

Two of the oldest vampires he had met had accepted him as the dominant one in their relationship, when he had one of their kind for less than a month.

For that to happen, he knew he had to be powerful. He had to be stronger and more vicious than any they had met before. And they had met vicious, violent vampires before, being in the elite squad known as the Scourge of Europe.

And still, they accepted him as dominator without question. He was the boss.

Death suddenly looked like it was going to be a whole lot of fun.

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