Title: A Tale Of Pensive Hearts

Author: JINXwatcher

Feedback: Constructive comments always welcome: jinxascendant@hotmail.com

Pairing: Spike/Angel, Spike/Penn, Angel/Spike/Penn, mention of past instances of Spike/Dru and William/Angelus, Angelus/Penn, Darla/Angelus, and Angelus/Dru

Rating: R to a possible romantic NC-17’ish

Spoilers: Some scattered among Buffy Season four and one reference to Angel’s fifth season but then it goes AU, additionally the events of Angel Season One's Somnambulist Episode happened by instead of Penn being killed it’s Lawson (The vampire he sired in Why we fight, an episode from season five) who is dusted and Penn doesn’t appear at all until this story. His canon history has been changed to fit the circumstances of this story.

Warnings: Character deaths in this one, sorry! Adult language, situations, & Content, slash, violence, all that sort of stuff. Warning some Scooby bashing road signs ahead….

Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained by their owner and accredited license holders.

Writer’s Notes: This story takes place in an AU setting so some details have been changed to ensure continuity in the story so forgive me if it deviates too far from canon; I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. Please excuse any minor discrepancies or artist license. As always thanks are going out to GF, Myst, Salustra, Betsy, Sweet, Luba, Mandie, and Mera my most excellent group of Beta/Editors.

Writer’s Credits: A poem ‘The Auguries of Innocence’ by William Blake is used.

Writer Websites: JINXI’s Website: Shadows In A Mirror: Her Archive: FEVER DREAMS

JINXI’s LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/jinxwatcher

The Crypt: http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/crypt.htm#buffywatcher

Distribution: If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.

Summary:

Distribution: If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.

Summary: In the wake of Spike’s treatment at the hands of the Initiative and Buffy, Angel faces an unexpected challenge for the leadership of the Aurelius Order… and for Spike’s affections.

Prologue

The search is over at last. The endless years of his solitude are at last over; they will end in this small town with such a big secret. He should have thought to look here before now but somehow he never believed the rumours that his family could be here; that *he* was here. His precious and perfect family so close at hand and here on the Hellmouth of all places, it is inconceivable. He has heard all the stories, the vile tales of blasphemous degradation and unfathomable betrayals.

They were the paragons of the vampiric ranks, the most beautiful, the most vicious, the deadliest, the… most loving… of any Childer ever sired. The Master, aged and wise, whose blood was liquid history, gone to dust at the hands of a little snippet of a girl. Darla, the fiery Queen of Ice and decorum, gone to dust at the hands of her own Childe. As for himself, exiled and pariah for daring to covet that which was his Sire’s, forced to run or face destruction at the hands of the one that birthed him to his Demon life. Drusilla, sweet and utterly mad Princess Seer, to stake her would probably have been a mercy, so it’s needless to wonder why her Sire would be content to let her exist. Mercy was never a quality that Angelus had possessed in great abundance, even as a Human. He tried to find his Sister, knowing that if he did his true prize would be close at hand. Track her he did and drew close on several occasions but he was always just those few moments too late and the trail would grow cold for weeks, months, years, finally decades would fall away and still he hunted through the underbelly of the world. It was countless nights, each endless as he continued his fruitless search for his broken shell of a Sister and the treasure that guarded her. Then came the word of Angelus’ fate and for the second time his immortal world was shaken to its core. Angelus brought low… he could have never chosen so cruel a fate for his Once-Sire even though hatred for him burns in his heart he would not have consigned him to such a fate.

He supposes he’ll have to call that mockery walking around in his Sire’s body ‘Angel’ now like the rest of the deluded world around them that fails to see that Angelus is still as he was. The soul has only turned him from a Hunter into a Cannibal, feasting on the death of his kind while protecting the cows that mill around them in ever more suffocating numbers. It was sadly little surprise to learn that his once Sire had stood by and let a Human stake Lawson the youngest of his Childer and the only one unfortunate enough to have been sired by that souled mockery of a Vampire.

He wonders if Angelus… Angel… knew that it was *his* hand that trained Lawson; taught him how to survive when their own Sire turned him out to face a cruel world within only hours of his re-birth. None was more surprised then he to realise that the broken shell of a Demon he’d stumbled across one night, all but dust from neglect should turn out to be family. He even considered ending Lawson’s tortured existence, swift and mercifully, caught as he was between his Demon and the Humanity that had lingered in him… perhaps infected from their own twisted Sire’s souled condition. He stayed his hand however out of the desire to once more have that connection… that sure knowledge that he had family in the world. He was old and powerful and he had seen much of the world, enough to know that the evil that men do is comparable to any Demon. Secretly the lithe and deceptively weaker Vampire reminded him of a deeper loss, one that haunts him still and he decided to help.

He forced Lawson to learn, tutored his body and mind to fight, to reason, beat him until his Humanity was submerged behind a Demon’s need to survive. It was a hard lesson but he needed it to go on with his existence as he was too young to really be on his own. He gave him something to fight for, a cause that would give him a reason to keep fighting for his existence. He taught him the greatest of all lessons, he taught him how to hate their Sire with a hate so encompassing, so absolute that it became a reason to exist and go on. He was magnificent in his hatred but in the end he was dust in the wind like so many of their family. He felt Lawson’s loss as keenly as though the wood had pierced his own chest for in the end he had been more of a Sire then his true Sire had ever been.

The rite of vengeance called him to this festering boil of humanity that funnily enough was called the City of Angels. In truth he had rarely seen a city that hadn’t been more clearly abandoned by God and or his Angels servants in many years. It was ridiculously easy to find the foul Human that had killed his Brother and to lure her into a false sense of security. Despite knowing that such creatures existed, in the end she still fell for the deceptive humanity of his classic features and trim body. In the end she invited in the means of her death. He wonders briefly if they’ve found all the parts he’d scattered all over the city yet. It doesn’t matter so much now that he is at last so close to his goal.

Over a century of searching, of yearning, and it was his vengeance against an inconsequential Human whore that would bring him at last to the threshold of this accomplishment. The horrible rumours that have lead him here, too terrible to be believed and yet in his week here he has found every one of them to be true and worse then he could have ever imagined.

That the purest of them, the heart of the family, their beloved Little One, and the ringing pride of the Aurelius Order should be reduced to this travesty of existence is sacrilegious. William the Bloody, Spike, the Slayer of Slayers, the only Vampire in *HISTORY* to kill not one Slayer but two in single combat and he should be cursed with such a fate. Slayers had fallen to Vampires before of course but only twice in all recorded history had a single Vampire challenged them and won in one on one contest of survival. He was so proud when he heard the news, whispered and bandied about the Demon underworld of such a marvellous accomplishment. That such a strong Master should belong to his family, be the beloved of their bloodline, and the darling of their Order was very important to him. In the wake of the Master and Darla’s destruction and the appalling revelation that Angelus was souled, the few pitiful remnants of their once proud lineage were forced to react.

The call was sent out to assemble and for the first time since the conclave in Venice in 1893, the entirety of the Order arrived in San Francisco. From the oldest Masters to the newest minions old enough to feel the call responded. The souled travesty that is his Once-Sire was of course naturally omitted. Drusilla the sadly broken Princess was invited as well but as word came to them that Spike was missing, he knew that she wouldn’t attend the conclave. Without the vicious presence of their possessive Once-Sire or her dangerous and lovingly protective Spike, she would be too vulnerable amongst an assemblage of their own kind. She would have had little or no support from the few remaining Masters of their Order as her insanity and feebleminded devotion to Angelus had always left her rather isolated.

As an Order they are a line of passionate warriors known for their sheer strength and vicious skill in the killing arts. Drusilla’s talents of the mind, the unstable nature of her psyche, and obsessive childlike demeanour had always isolated her amongst their number and few looked on her with any great affection; well few that are still amongst the actively existing anyway. With the final deaths of the Master and Darla, the mysterious disappearance of Spike, and the lamentable condition of their Once-Sire, Drusilla was inevitably ostracized and labelled an outcast like Angel. Spike’s unusual talent in the arts of the Seducer too were very rare in their Order; he and his Great Grand-Sire Darla were the only ones known to possess the gift in many countless generations. Unlike Drusilla however Spike’s enviable skills as a fighter were as great as his other skills, as proven by his unprecedented accomplishment of defeating two Slayers, and he was held as the epitome of what the Aurelius Order was, is, and strives to be. His uncertain fate was a topic of much discussion as were their efforts to find him.

So it was that he; as the eldest remaining member of the ruling bloodline; ascended to the position of Master of the Aurelius Order and supplanting his own Sire as the head of the Order. If Spike had been found in time, he sometimes wonders if he would still have been elected their Master but he likes to think that his greater years and experience would count for something and he would still have been named. His first command was that the full resources of the Order be turned towards finding and reclaiming Spike or ascertaining the circumstances of his existence. As one of the few pure-blooded Masters, reared in the old ways, and as strong as he was, is, he would be invaluable in his efforts to rebuild their Order. Sadly it seems that Spike, much like himself, had yet to sire any Childer himself; though he had been credited with successfully raising several strong Childer sired by Drusilla. Lamentably they had all been destroyed through the years by Slayers. The Slayers did not survive for very long past their accomplishments however and it had long been whispered that had something to do with their demises, though that was never confirmed. Privately he’s always believed that Spike did take revenge for the slaughtered Childer and he has more Slayer kills under his belt then has been attributed to him.

Before their network could locate Spike, the tragic news of Lawson’s final death at the hands of a Human policewoman with the conspiratorial assistance of Angel arrived; and he was diverted from his search. It was only once his vengeance was visited on the worthless Human that the dark rumours reached him of Spike’s unconscionable fate.

They had heard the rumours of the vile experiments the Humans had been conducting though no one knew for sure where the base was located or it would likely have been swarmed by armies of enraged Demons long before now. That his… that Spike… could have been one of their captives… it was a horrifying prospect and unacceptable to him; he left immediately for the Hellmouth to find out if it was true. He’d left so fast that his planned revenge against his former Sire for his part in Lawson’s destruction was left unfulfilled. There would be time to mete out justice against Angel after Spike was safely recovered and once more protected by an Order that had been sadly lacking in its support up til then.

For a week he’d carefully hidden his presence in the moderately sized town with the misfortune to be built atop one of several Hellmouths that dot the planet. What he discovered was enough to break his undead heart; if it had still been beating that is. Spike was indeed a victim of the blight that called itself the Initiative and his beautiful, seductively compelling Nephew had indeed had their vile technological leash inflicted on him. It was little wonder that he’d all but disappeared from the underworld of Demons and he has no doubt that it was wholly deliberate on Spike’s part. Though it seemed that the leash only prevented his hunting and feeding on or hurting Humans not Demons, the open knowledge that he was so encumbered would have been seen as a vulnerability to other Demons. It would and does make him a target as he witnessed on several occasions with his own eyes. His pride in his fellow Aurelian was unshaken and in fact strengthened as he watched Spike defeat challenger after challenger that mistakenly believed him to be weak and easy prey. He knew however that it was only a matter of time until someone would be smart enough to use Spike’s only true weakness against him and hired Humans to do what they couldn’t manage. He wouldn’t stand idly by and let that happen so he began to make his plans in earnest. It was during this time that he learned of the Slayer’s abominable treatment of Spike, the endless abuses both physical and verbal and her ruthless emotional manipulations that were crueller then any technological leash could have ever been and all the more unnatural.

Sadly he could see how Spike fell into the trap spun by that deceptively delicate Slayer. He had spent much of his existence caring for the fragile Drusilla and in some way innocence was his greatest weakness. Abandoned by his Sire, Grand-sire, and the support of his kin and left vulnerable to his own kind it was unavoidable that he would seek comfort from those that he once hunted; what other choices did he have after all? He could even understand why he would allow the Slayer to abuse him in the ways that she had, after all Angelus’ affection was delivered at the end of a fist as often as an embrace. He doubts that any of their bloodline had escaped that unfortunate legacy from their rearing at Angelus’ hand. They were bred in violence and brought to heel at the foot of their Master by the same token.

So it was that he came to be silently observing the violent exchange between the Slayer and Spike. He has long held the belief that no good deed *does* go unpunished when it comes to Demons trying to help Humans and he watches it play out once more in the blooming of bruises and blood that riddle Spike’s beaten form. He is crying inside as she leaves him there broken and bleeding with no concern at all for his welfare. If anyone should understand the life expectancy of a wounded and weakened Demon in the Hellmouth it should have been a Slayer. Leaving Spike as she did was tantamount to a death sentence. Fortunately however someone that did care was nearby.

He slipped from the shadows and crouched beside the poor wounded Vampire at his feet. He couldn’t help the flush of pride as Spike attempted to rise despite his condition, unwilling to face destruction on anything less then his feet. He seems to sense something at the last moment however and he relaxes back against the unyielding ground silently. Perhaps it is the gentleness of his hand stroking his cheek or perhaps he recognizes him despite the wealth of years since their last meeting and the changes to them both.

“Shhhh, Little One, do you remember me? It has been so long I know and we have changed so much in that time but I hope that you haven’t forgotten me.” He keeps his voice soft and his tone as gentle as his touch against that marvellous cheekbone. “My name is Penn. I’m the eldest Childe of the Demon that was Angelus and the Master of the Aurelius Order and I am here for you Childe of Aurelius. I swear on our shared blood that no harm will come to you while you are in my care. Will you come with me William and let me help you?” He asks formally his tone soft and tender, leaning close as the sky makes good on the threat that has been looming all night and a slight drizzle of rain begins to fall. He angles his shoulders so that the injured Vampire is protected from the drizzle of rain as best he can.

The soft sound of a footfall has him surging to his feet until he’s crouching over the wounded Vampire under him, grey eyes flashing to amber and baring his fangs protectively. He blinks in surprise, his fangs retracting and his eyes softening back to their usual storm-tossed grey at the sight of a mousey looking young woman who is all too clearly human. He relaxes only marginally as he senses power in this little girl and he has learned to respect that at Angelus’ knee if he has learned little else.

“Get away from him!” She doesn’t look dangerous but the glint in her eye and the surprising strength in her voice make him wonder if his assessment is an accurate one. “Spike, are you hurt badly?” The warming of voice is distinct to his experienced ears and he realises that this young woman looks on Spike as a friend despite the fact that he’s a Demon.

“Calm down Human. I am not the one that did this to him, I want to help William, not hurt him.” He swears, trying to infuse his voice with his genuine concern. “I am… was… a Childe of Angelus, we’re… family. I can help him!”

“If y... yo… you didn’t do that to hi... him… then who did?” She demands her eyes flashing once more with power and suddenly he understands what she is.

“You can blame that blond whore masquerading as a Slayer for this night’s work little Witchling. I had no part in doing this to William nor would I ever do such a thing. I may be a Demon, a Vampire, but I am not a monster.”

“Oh god Spike, Buffy did *this* to you?” He’s somewhat surprised that the young woman accepts his word but from the sad look on her face and the tears she sheds she was halfway expecting this to happen eventually. He’s surprised still further as she seemingly pushes aside her fear and walks to kneel next to Spike and strokes his hair with a gentle hand. In that moment he can’t help but fall more then a little in like with the young human. “It’ll be okay Spike.” She turns her eyes to him and he’s taken aback as he notices how lovely they are. “You say you want to help him?”

“Yes, Witchling, I swear that my intentions are honourable. I’m going to do what I can to save Spike but that means getting him out of this bloody town before that Slayer kills him for good.”

“Good then pick up Spike, *carefully*, and let’s go.” She says quietly but with a thread of steel in her soft voice. “I’m Tara Maclay and I’ll be going with you to make sure Spike’s taken care of.”

“Why do you care so much what happens to *WILLIAM*?” He is careful to stress his use of Wil’s true name over that which he assumed due to Angelus’ cruelty. “I’m taking him and I’m *leaving*, not just this town but this whole cursed state. I’m taking him back to the Aurelius Order’s Chantry, where I can ensure his safety and that he’ll have the help he needs to recover. Hopefully I can find a way to get that damned chip out of his head these cursed Humans have foully leashed him with.”

“Can you ensure my safety there because otherwise we need to find somewhere else? I’m going with you to take care of Spike.” She crosses her arms doggedly.

“I asked before and you didn’t answer me. Why do you care about him when others fear and despise our kind? Why should I trust *you*girl; when it was one of your kind that did this to him?” He demands doggedly determined right back.

She uncrosses her arms to resume stroking Spike’s platinum locks once more. “Spike has been a true friend to me. He believed in me when everyone else doubted, he acted when everyone else was halfway ready to stand by and let me be convinced that I was something that I’m not. I’m not blinded by the past, I see things, I see *HIM* for what he is now. He’s trying to help them and all they’ve done is turn their backs on him or use him. Eventually they’ll use him up until they kill him for good. Willow loves her magic more then me, Buffy loves her friends and appearance’s sake more then she loves Spike… William. We belong together, I can help him and maybe then he can help me too and teach me how not to be a victim for everyone. He’s strong, truly the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

He kneels until his fingertips can brush Wil’s cheek again. “There was no other way he could be; only the strongest could hope to survive Angelus’ attentions much less thrive under his thumb.” He looks up and meets the gaze of the unusual human, letting the veil he usually keeps drawn over his emotions fall away. After a moment her eyes soften and she nods slightly. “My name is Penn and I can and will ensure your safety while you are among our number. You will come to no harm from me or any that walk under the auspices of the Aurelius Order. You have my word of honour; I swear it on the blood that soaks this ground. You will be as my own.”

“Do I have time to stop and get anything?” She asks in a quiet voice and with a gentle smile.

“It would probably be better if you didn’t Ms. Maclay.” He says with a gallant inclination of his head. “If we’re seen someone could well try and stop us and I won’t allow anything to stand between me and helping William. I can assume you would rather we left without having to kill anyone?” He asks dryly, carefully sliding his arms under William’s back and knees. He lifts him, trying to be as gentle as he can but it’s difficult since the Slayer hasn’t left much more than a few inches here or there unmarked.

“You know I thought Spike was rather unusual as Vampires go but you don’t seem that different.” Tara notes, sounding somewhat surprised.

“What most people know about Vampires is only what they’ve seen from those abominable films they make or that rot the Watchers like to spout off. Just between us Little Witchling, what they *don’t* know about Vampires far eclipses what tiny bit of knowledge they’ve accidentally garnered over the centuries. They like to believe that we’re animals. It makes it easier for them to kill us with no more regard then most humans show for a cow or a vegetable they’ve killed to feed themselves.”

“You called me that before too, ‘Little Witchling’. Can you really tell that I’m one?” Tara’s gaze floats over the very handsome man she’s walking beside. It hasn’t escaped her notice that his demeanour towards Sp… William, she corrects herself having picked up on Penn’s preference for his true name. His hands were almost lovingly reverent as they brushed over his injured form and his hold even now is as gentle as it can be while making sure that he’s holding the severely beaten Vampire securely.

“Can I tell that you’re a Witch?” Penn asks with a smile. “Yes I can tell, Demons have certain affinity for power and its forms and Vampires are sensitive to it as well. I can sense the power in you and I can tell that you were born a witch, rather rare in this day and age. I’m certain that William can sense your aura as well. It’s likely that any Master Vampire of sufficient age and experience could sense it if they were around you long enough.” Penn reveals conspiratorially. “Did you know that in times long gone now that some witches bonded to Vampires as their familiars? It’s why the darker legends of witches being in league with the Devil came about I expect. I’m sure the Watchers Council had more than a little to do with that bit of propaganda too. They have little tolerance for anyone different that refuses to allow their world views to be brainwashed by their false dogma.”

“I had no idea!” Tara breathes. “The oldest books the Watchers Council has on the subject speak about something they referred to as ‘dark communions’ but the accounts are all rather vague in their details. I did wonder just how ‘dark’ a communion it could be when it was white magic that was being worked. I wonder if that’s what they were referring to. I would love to talk to someone from back then that could teach me the true secrets, responsibilities, and legacy of magic.”

“I think that can be arranged Witchling.” Penn says with an enigmatic smile.

“Where are we going?” Tara finally thinks to ask. “Are you sure that I’ll be safe there? Will the others… there will be others… like you there right?” Penn nods regally. “Will they listen to you?”

“I am their Master, Witchling. I am the new Master of the Aurelius Order and they are to a last, one all, bound in blood to me willingly and my claim rests on them all. They will obey any directives that I set or they’ll be destroyed for their defiance.” Penn adds harshly. “We are a dying Order, less then six pure-blood Masters survive to this age. There are only a dozen Neonates that could ever hope to become true Masters in all of the Order and nearly every one has lost their Sire reducing their chances still further that they will survive long enough to achieve Master ranking. It is a sad state of affairs but one that I have hope can be changed with William’s help. He is one of the strongest Vampires ever produced by our Order, perhaps second only to Angelus and myself which is astonishing in one so young.”

“*YOUNG?* Spike is well over a century old and you call him young?” Tara sputters in shock.

“If you measured your life in the terms centuries rather then the decades Humans have been cursed with, you would learn that time is a very funny thing. The more of it that you think you have and the less that you actually care about its passing. William is one hundred and twenty-six years old Witchling. In times passed he would have only now have been considered to have sufficient years and experience to be considered a Master. Few of our Childer have even been formally ‘released’ from their Sire’s direct care before they have amassed four to six decades.” Penn explains. “I myself was reared by Angelus for nearly eighty.”

“How old was Spike when Angel let him ‘leave home’?” Tara asks curiously. She’s never read anything that recounting Spike’s history with any great detail and it seems that to the Watchers at least that he is still somewhat of a mystery.

“Angelus was our Sire, Witchling, Do not mistake that facsimile running around wearing his body for our Sire. *Angel* had only one Childe left and he stood by while a Human destroyed him. That Bastard has no Childer left now.” Penn growls but seeing the distress on Tara’s face he forces his hatred of Angel down and regains his charming manner. “Angelus never released William nor do I suspect did he ever plan to. Angelus kept him close to him always like a little boy jealously guarding his favourite toy. He always claimed that he did it because Wil was constantly getting in trouble but we all knew that it was because he was his favourite and he just wanted to protect him. Angelus even… sent… me away because he thought I threatened his relationship with William.”

“I… I don’t understand Penn. Every one of them has told me stories about how much Angel hates Spike… William… and… and… when Angel lost his soul again he was really cruel to him too!” Tara argues. “It doesn’t sound anything like you said it used to be.” She mumbles confused.

“I sincerely doubt that any of you have met the true Angelus Witchling. You’ve only met the version that has been locked inside a souled shell, denied the chance to *be* who he is. Could you imagine what you’d be like after a century locked up with only that souled bastard for company? You’d be loony as a dizzy flea too I assure you! Angelus is dead as surely as if he’d been staked, whatever is left of him now is surely insane and beyond any hope of restoration. I have heard the stories of Acathla and what he tried to do. The Angelus that I knew so long ago would never have even conceived of such a suicidal plan. Vampires are relatively low in the ranks of the true Demons of the kind he was courting in his insanity. We would have been prey as surely as the Humans would have been to some of those Dark Dwellers. There’s a reason that Vampires found a way to escape the hell dimensions for the worlds of humanity. An Angelus in his right mind wouldn’t have endangered William, I’m sure of that much, he loved him though I’m sure he never faced up to his feelings either then or any that linger now.”

“Angelus was in love with Spike? But… but Buffy and Giles said that Demons can’t love...? I always knew that they were wrong but they refused to even consider the possibility that it was true.”

“Well I’m proof that we can, as is this precious one in my arms.” Penn says fondly. “I’ve searched the world over for William since I heard of Angelus unfortunate fate and that he’s abandoned them to Darla’s not always tender ministrations. Not a day went by that I didn’t rage against Angelus’ edict that I leave the family and not return but it was his Sire’s right to command it. I was well into my own Master-ship and a dominate Sire will rarely allow an equal to remain for long once that happens. He forced me to leave but when I didn’t go he turned on me and almost destroyed William and I both in the process for defying him.” Penn explains. “Do not let their dogma cloud your instincts little Witchling, you have seen for yourself that what they think they know is by far eclipsed by what they *don’t* know.”

“Absolutely, I really have come to believe that.” Tara confides. “I knew that they were wrong about Spike so I had to wonder what else they were wrong about too.” She admits. She glances around them and notices that they’ve walked quite a distance and they’re heading into one of the most affluent sections of the town. “Where are we going?”

“I didn’t want to draw too much attention and who would expect a Vampire to be living in a neighbourhood like this one?” Penn motions towards a modest but lovely single story home with his shoulder.

Tara nods and follows him towards the home, her gaze notes the large brand new looking motor home sitting in the driveway and she hides a shudder at the memory of their flight from Glory. She pushes the feelings aside knowing that from a practical standpoint a motor home is the best option for transporting William and Penn safely away from the sunlight. The door opens at their approach and a quartet of surprising characters pours through the door and flow around them silently.

Two of the pair is obviously twin brothers, being perfectly matched mirror images of dark haired perfection. Both are attired flawlessly in classically tailored Italian silk suits and highly polished shoes. She notices that their attention seems to be focused on their surroundings and she figures that they’re probably some sort of bodyguards or the like.

Their companions are two very different women and as alike as their male companions are is how different they are from each other. The shortest of the pair is attired in an intricate draping of silk that form the graceful folds of an airy Indian Sari. Her long dark hair is coiled neatly at her nape and the highlights of a few grey strands dart among the neatly coiffed strands. Like many women of ethnic origin her age is rather indeterminate and while she suspects that they are to a last, Vampires, physically the woman could be anywhere between thirty and forty-five. Her eyes are lovely a curious mixture of dark brown irises surrounded by a thin ring of almost golden brown. They’re truly lovely and quite compelling and the peaceful aura surrounding her is almost tangible in the still night air.

The other woman appears to be physically at that transitional age from young adulthood to maturity that isn’t that far removed from her own age. She is wearing a simple tank dress in a warm shade of clover honey gold and a hip length black sweater with three-quarter sleeves and a shawl collar that matches the black shade of her stylish sling-back high-heeled shoes. Her dark auburn hair curls just below her jaw in an impeccably styled page boy, the ends curling up just a bit in a hint of playful flare. Her gaze is considering and direct, her dark blue eyes gathering information silently with a seemingly cursory sweep that betrays a formidable intelligence. Her hand holds a large leather briefcase with obvious familiarity in one hand and an electronic organizer in her other one. She is the very image of the modern career woman. All in all Tara has to admit that they are quite a striking looking group.

“The young Master needs tending urgently; let us be away from this accursed place so that I may attend to his care.” The sari-draped woman declares with little patience for formalities, running a light hand over William’s blood matted hair. Her voice is pleasantly accented and it reminds Tara of the chiming of bells.

“Are we ready to leave?” Penn asks, nodding to the twins and watching them nod in unison and jogging ahead to the motor home and opening the door for him.

“Yes Master, we attended to the packing as you instructed.” The other woman replies in a softly accented voice heavy with the French flavoured tones of Louisiana.

Penn nods pleased as the twins gently assist him by lifting Spike into the motor home and settle him carefully onto one of the plump cushioned black leather sofas in the sitting area. Penn takes Tara’s hand and assists her inside silently displaying his regard for her to his companions, as the women file in after them.

“This is Ms. Tara Maclay and she will be our most honoured guest while she resides with us; for her devotion to William she has earned our respect. Hear me and mark my words and let it be known what I have said here tonight. As William, out of Drusilla, Childe of Angelus stands in my regard as my own blood so too does Tara Maclay and a disrespect offered is as given unto me. Introduce yourselves.” Penn prompts them formally but an affectionate smile steals the sting from the vaguely threatening speech.

“Greetings, young Mistress Tara, I am Ravali Simran.” The sari-draped woman announces as she makes an elaborate by gracefully lovely gesture of obeisance that ends with her palms pressed together and pressed tightly to her abdomen and pointing downward. “I have served the Aurelius Order proudly for three hundred and twenty-seven years as their Healer, Medium, and the Keeper of their History. When I am not needed in those ways, I serve as the steward of the Order’s Chantry. I am a Rakshasi Matron of the Ravanna Pride and I will serve you and the young Master well Mistress Tara.”

“The Rakshasa is a curious Demon species remotely related to Vampires and found almost exclusively in India. In their pure form they resemble a furred human with the head and claws of a Tiger. They are known to interbreed with weretigers usually the Rakshasa is male and the mother is a Rakshasi, their female counterpart, or a female weretigress. Ravali is the daughter of Punjari Simran, a very prominent Rakshasa who is believed to be the patron of the Ravanna Pride, the largest of the weretiger prides still in existence.” Penn whispers to her quietly. “Ravali is a mixture of her heritage. She can be either woman or Tigress as she wills and she can feed of the positive emotions of the people around her as easily as she can read their emotions and she is an empath of extraordinary ability.”

“It is an honour to meet you Ravali but I am no one’s Mistress. I am just Tara Maclay.” Tara stutters faintly as her shyness comes to the fore.

“I think that perhaps you are much more Mistress but I shall leave that to my Jacob to determine I think.” Ravali replies enigmatically before moving past them to kneel beside the by now unconscious William.

“My name is Genevra Dumont-Lawson.” The other woman pronounces in a slightly stilted tone before she turns away to set her briefcase and organizer down on the nearby dining table and appearing to put all other thoughts or pleasantries out of her mind.

“Please excuse her manner Tara. She is not overly fond of Humans since one recently destroyed her Mate and Sire, Lawson, with Angel’s help.” Penn whispers sadly. “She is a neonate of the Aurelius Order, a Vampire that is too old and too strong to be a considered a fledgling but not yet strong enough or old enough to be considered a Master Vampire. Lawson however was strong so too has that strength shown in her and she will be a Master one of these nights I suspect.”

“Oh no that’s a horrible thing to have to live through and to lose both her Sire and her Mate in one blow must have been devastating.” Tara says mournfully. Making a rash decision she walks over and keeping a respectful and prudent distance she stops well out of the Vampire’s personal space. “I am sorry for your loss.” She says quietly with genuine remorse before returning to her former place beside Penn.

She misses the flare of surprise in Genevra’s eyes or the look of faint respect and consideration that she shoots towards her before opening her briefcase and removing a folder and a cell phone.

“Genevra attends to the Order’s financial matters and very well at that. We have grown quite obscenely rich under her guidance.” Penn praises loudly, smiling as Genevra proves that being a Vampire doesn’t negate the ability to blush.

“The twins are Erick and Aaron Logan, Masters of the Order and my self-appointed bodyguards.” Penn says dryly. Each man raises his hand in silent greeting as Penn says their name and she can see the subtle differences that differentiate them. He looks at them with an affectionate gaze and leans over to whispers in her ear. “They rarely speak unless they have something important to say, so don’t take it personally if they’re very quiet around you, it’s just their way.” He informs her quietly. He straightens and raises his voice to its normal level. “I would sincerely love to get out of this cursed town Gentlemen if one of you wouldn’t mind?”

One of the twins, Aaron she thinks, immediately makes his way to the driver seat and within a few seconds they’re smoothly on their way out of Sunnydale with little fanfare but a feeling of hope and camaraderie prevails among the little group.

“Master, do you think this is wise?” Erick says quietly, glancing briefly towards Tara, who blushes shyly and looks away from his observant eyes.

Tara can’t help but notice his voice is very pleasant with its soft Scottish brogue. She feels sadly very plain and normal among this exotic gathering of colourful and strong personalities.

“Tara was willing to face me down to protect William and she is defying the Slayer to be here now out of concern for him. Such selflessness deserves our consideration don’t you think Erick?” Penn replies.

“Indeed it does Master Penn.” Erick agrees subtly impressed by the strength he can sense hiding beneath what appears to be a calm human veneer. “Is it the Slayer who is responsible for Master William’s condition, Milord?”

“These most recent injuries yes but I think that many people and factors had a hand in hurting William. There will be a reckoning, this I assure you will not pass by unnoticed, unspoken of, and we will have our recompense for the ills visited upon William.” Penn swears vehemently. “How is he doing Ravali? Is he injured severely?” He walks over to join Ravali in her silent examination of an unconscious William. One by one everyone but Aaron who is busy driving clusters around them.

Ravali lowers her hands and opens her eyes to reveal that they are glistening with unshed tears. “The physical injuries will heal in time, quite some time, he has been sadly used Milord. He is undernourished, his reserves are the lowest that I have seen in many a time. That he could survive a fight with a Slayer and a beating of this magnitude and remain mostly whole is indeed most impressive. He will be a long time healing though Milord. She has done him considerable injury, there are many broken bones and his larynx has been shattered. He will be unable to speak until that heals but it will make his feedings most difficult for a time but it is essential that he be fed well and often. We should find a donor as quickly as we can, it is best that he feed from the source; it will replenish him more quickly and hold him stable until I can attend to him properly in more prepared surroundings.” Ravali reports with a sad gleam in her eyes. “There is evidence of older injuries in various stages of healing; his inability to feed has severely impacted his body’s ability to heal. I sense injuries upon injuries in him. And Milord;” a grim expression crosses her face, “he was staked at least once, I do not know what was used but as he remains among us it cannot have been wood.” She pulls aside the tattered remnants of William’s T-shirt and there it is, the tell-tale slightly protruding circular scar marring his chest.

“Who would do something like that to him? It’s pointless torture!” Penn demands, looking at Tara who has stooped to kneel beside Ravali and is running her palm over the obscene scar as though she could rub it away.

“Riley, it was Riley Finn. Sp… William told me about it and asked me to keep his secret and I have. He was…. Riley was a member of the Initiative, William didn’t know whether he as one of the ones that captured him or not but I know he did his best to torment him while they held him prisoner.” Tara replies looking ill. “He tried to tell Buffy… the Slayer… about what he’d done but she used to be in love with him and she accused him of lying and William let it go realizing it was pointless to argue when she refused to believe him.”

Penn turns and catches Genevra’s eye and silently communicates his wishes and a slight nod tells him that she understands what he wants her to do and she goes back to the table and her briefcase. Within moments the open briefcase has disgorged a state of the art notebook style laptop and she is on her way to learning everything there is to know about Riley Finn.

“I can heal the damage done to his outside and help him to reconcile that which lies within but I can do nothing with this travesty of technology the Humans have forced upon him.” Ravali confides quietly. “I do not believe that it could be removed Milord without possibly causing a fatal injury. We must find another way for I do not think that any medicine of this plane or any other will avail him.”

“What about magic Ravali? Do you think that Jacob could help him?” Penn asks quietly.

“If anyone will know if it is possible and how it can be done it will be Jacob, Milord. It will be some length of time until it can even be considered. Master William’s condition is grave and his body must be able to withstand the procedure to remove it.” Ravali advises in a somber tone.

“We’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure William’s safety and happiness. Erick, I want you and Aaron to concentrate on William’s safety until we can secure him a suitable guard. I won’t have William left vulnerable and while he can hold his own against Demons he’s still vulnerable to Humans so until we can remove that weakness he will be protected.” Penn issues the order.

“Understood, Milord, we will proudly serve the future of the Order.” Erick swears sincerely.

Penn nods satisfied and issues a series of orders before he carefully picks up William and cradling him tenderly he carries him through into the luxurious bedroom that dominates the rear of the vehicle. The others will be sleeping in the overhead loft above or on one of the matched pair of sofas that border the dining table.

Ravali stands and takes Tara’s hand and pulls her after her as she follows Penn and his precious burden. “You are a child of the Earth are you not young one?” Ravali asks respectfully, she smiles maternally as she notices Tara seems a little confused. “You know herbs, the working of magic?”

The light of understanding brightens Tara’s eyes. “Oh, yes I am a witch but I am still learning….”

“You will help me attend to the Young Master and then when we return to the Vieux Carre I will take you to meet my man Jacob. He is a very powerful and you will be well pleased in him.” Ravali says happily, releasing the hold on her hand and moving toward William; whom Penn has carefully laid out on the bed while Tara blushes.

Penn takes pity on her and leans over to whisper. “Ravali’s Mate is Jacob Chenault, he is a very powerful Warlock and she is offering to introduce you to him. He has been known to accept apprentices if they interest him and I think that you will.”

“Jacob Chenault….” Tara breathes in awe. There are truly few true devotees of magic that do not know his name. It has been long whispered that he is the most powerful natural Warlock in fifty generations and it is a dream of every wielder of magic to meet the reclusive man. It had long been a personal dream of hers to be able to meet him, even if it was only for a few minutes. That thought is followed closely by a silent sigh. It was a dream that Willow once shared before she became obsessed with developing her powers as much and as fast as possible by any means at hand.

She knew that Willow had been ‘cutting corners’ in regards to her magic and its use ethically speaking for quite some time. She had tried to speak to her about it but Willow managed to talk her way out of everything and somehow by the end she felt badly for thinking the worst of her at all. Spike had spoken up in support of her worries but as usual anything he may have said was dismissed out of hand as unimportant. Every attempt to discuss her concerns with Giles or Buffy met similar disappointing results and soon the last lone voice of reason was silenced.

Penn gently urges the shy young woman forward, trusting Ravali’s instincts implicitly. If she feels that this young woman can help William then she must be guided to do so.

Feeling the gentle nudge and seeing that Ravali has begun the laborious task of beginning William’s long road back to health, Tara snaps out of the fog of memories clouding her eyes. She moves forward to help, ignoring her burning cheeks as she helps Ravali cut away the tattered remains of William’s T-shirt. She tackles his boots and socks as Ravali carefully cuts away his jeans with Penn’s assistance.

It takes the three of them over six hours to piece William back together, the internal damage inflicted on his body is more severe then they first believed. Ravali silently retreats to the other room and leaves Tara and Penn sitting on opposite sides of the bed, bracketing the still and sleeping William between them.

Tara silently grieves knowing that it is almost certain that some of the injuries were inflicted by Buffy’s hands and all were aggravated by her refusal to see that he was, despite being a Vampire, still worthy of care and concern. Spike…. Her thoughts trail off and then she has to stifle a chuckle as she admits that to her he’ll always be ‘Spike’ and she gives in to the inevitability. Spike has risked his existence, his *life* time and again and he is no more a part of the gang then a stranger on the street. Then *she* is, she admits to herself. They accept her only because of her place in Willow’s life. If their relationship ended they would probably have no use for her unless they needed something from her. She realizes in that moment the enormity of what she has embarked on by coming along. Her relationship with Willow *is* over and it was by her choice. She finds that she is sadly not as upset as she would have thought she’d be. Maybe this is where her life was leading all along. If she had stayed in Sunnydale and with Willow it would have only been a matter of time until her heart would be in shreds from the pain of it all. She’s made a choice and when Willow and the others find out; and she knows that one day they will; she knows she’ll be damned for it. She chooses to leave with Spike and his… friends… for friends are what they are she’s sure and she chooses *life.*

Penn smoothes the thick down comforter over William, making sure that the chill of the midwinter night is kept at bay. Despite his condition he can’t help but be impressed by William’s accomplishments. He’s done something that few Vampires have ever managed to do. He was a young Childe and he survived being abandoned by his Sire at a young age that was almost unheard of in the annals of history. He was barely twenty when Angelus was souled and he abandoned him and left him to take care of Drusilla. He’s disappointed in his Sister, she should have been caring for her Childe not letting him take care of her but he blames Angelus for Drusilla’s failure as a Sire.

His entire existence has been one display of survival after another. Unlike the rest of his family who only took an interest in William after Angelus’ cruelty had transformed him into a ‘suitable’ Vampire, he was interested in him from the beginning. Angelus was always bristling at his presence in those long ago days and he rarely let him interact with the family. He demanded that he remain nearby with the typical possessiveness of a Sire but he rarely allowed him to share quarters with the family. Several minions would be sent along with him to make a smaller lair nearby. Despite Angelus’ pathological possessiveness and protectiveness towards William there were many nights that either he or young William would sneak out to meet up. Those nights were endless to him and over a hundred years later, they still top his list of favourite memories.

So it was that he is the only one that knows the trials of William’s Human life. His Father was a nobleman and while he was a good man by William’s account, his love of his social standing forbid him from ever marrying his Mother. Despite that his Father did provide well for his lover and first-born son, they wanted for nothing. William’s tuition to the finest schools was paid in full and their home and a generous pension were arranged to take care of them and his future would have been a bright one. Unfortunately his Father was killed in a carriage accident and his greedy younger son who would inherit both his estates and his funds, had no love for the Bradley family. William was a threat to his position and his shy good looks and charming manner often showed him to be a boorish and unintelligent man. The pension was cut off abruptly but fortunately their comfortable home was theirs outright and the new Duke could do nothing about that. Instead of breaking young William however he once again shone in adversity.

He had his honours from Oxford and it wasn’t long before he found a job working at a prestigious investment and legal firm that handled the most exclusive accounts for the town. Despite the stigma of being ‘in trade’ unlike the others of his social ilk William was still accepted among them. He imagines that had as much to do with sound investment and legal advice, as it did with William’s quiet and charming manner. He has little doubt that if William’s life had been left to run its natural course that he would have succeeded in business as he had survived in life. But his fate was to cross paths with the Aurelius Order and his life was sacrificed to altar of their egos and he would be forever changed.

To this very moment he is still not convinced that Angelus didn’t have more to do with Drusilla’s turning of William then he’s admitted to. Drusilla, then as now, exists only for Angelus’ will, he was truly the architect of her destruction and the broken doll that she is now is solely his responsibility. It’s almost impossible for him to imagine Drusilla being independent enough to not only find William but to turn him as her Childe without consulting Angelus or seeking his help. He’s asked William what he remembers of his turning but as is typical, the details are fuzzy and he remembers very little of the circumstances of his siring. He is similarly afflicted having almost no recollections of the events that lead to Angelus siring him either. However Angelus always seemed to be unusually involved with William from the very first moment; yet at no point did he formally take him away from Drusilla.

Usually when a Sire assumes responsibility for the Childe or Childer of one of their Childer that has proven unable to raise them successfully, a formal change of Sireship soon follows. Angelus never did that making sure that ‘officially’ Drusilla was still acknowledged as William’s Sire. Perhaps some attempt on his part to insolate William from the often destructive tendencies of Darla in some way?

A soft sound snaps him out of his reverie and his eyes flicker towards the center of the bed and he inhales sharply as his gaze is caught by the fathomless depths of William’s enigmatic blue eyes. He can see the silent questions in his eyes and he leans forward to stroke the wavy locks off his forehead with tender sweeps of his hand.

“You’re safe William. Do you remember me Little One? I know it’s been a long time and we’ve changed a lot from who we were….” Penn starts to say.

“Penn.” William mouths silently, the corner of his mouth turning up in a weak smile. Penn smiles touched and excited that over a century later he’s still remembered fondly. Movement on his other side draws his eyes and the blue pools flash with surprise. Tara leans forward with a gentle smile, letting her hand rest lightly on his chest, careful of his injuries. “Tara?” He mouths, his throat still too damaged to allow him to speak. His gaze flickers towards Penn and then back to Tara and then back again. “Safe?”

“Yes William, she is safe with us. I have told everyone that they’re to treat her as she was my own and none of them will dare to defy me.” Penn soothes his fears. “I have been named as Angelus’ successor, in light of his… unfortunate… circumstances. The Aurelius Order is no longer the disjointed and warring clan that once we were. I have… removed… the more… militant… members that demanded we adhere to the ancient ways that made us a dying Order.” Penn says proudly.

William lifts his hand and with a grimace of pain he lightly taps his chest and then nods towards Tara, turning his head and managing a weak smile for her before she looks back.

“What do we want with you two?” Penn translates with a quirked brow and William nods. “You are very important to me William, to the Order, and to the future. You are strong, a survivor, brave, intelligent, and you could fight the Devil in Hell and win. You’ve always been more then the sum of your disparate selves. Those are traits that we need to preserve and cultivate in the future generations of the Order. I want you to rule the Order beside me William and before you ask, yes we know about the chip. We’ll try and help you with that but whether or not it can ever be deactivated or removed you will always have a place with us. Tara came along because she cares about you and wanted to help you too. She will have a place of honour among us I promise you.”

Both William and Tara look touched and pleased and Penn smiles at his accomplishment. “We are headed for the new Chantry of the Order. Venice is lovely but I much prefer New Orleans so I ordered it moved.” Penn grins, knowing from his years trying to track William, that he has a certain fondness for the Crescent City and he’s visited often through the years. What better city to make their new home in then in a city well-accustomed to the things that are outside the ‘normal vein’ and that they both love?

“Together we will mentor the future generation of the Aurelius Order. It is time William, time for you to be acknowledged before your Order for your accomplishments and for you to take your place. I am sorry that we have been so blind but it’s over now. A new Aurelius Order for a new millennium is a necessity. All of the Orders are nearly extinct, there are less then sixty pure-blood Masters left and several Orders are totally gone, the Tepes, the Vincenza, the Pherran, the Heinn, and more, are all gone. Centuries of their legacy are gone because they were living in the past and it was the destruction of all. It will not happen to us, I won’t allow it but for that I need *you* to show us the way to thrive in the present day. The Humans have grown too numerous, their position too securely entrenched and we can’t hope to beat them so we’re going to have to learn to co-exist with them. No one has found a way to do that better then you have.” Penn says quietly, stroking his hair.

“I’ll be staying with you Spike, if you don’t mind?” Tara says softly. “Sunnydale isn’t where I want to be anymore. I never fit in there but you always took the time to talk to me and you always made sure everyone tried to include me even while they did their best to ignore that you were even there too.” She lowers her voice even more, reaching under the covers and holding his hand. “I know that Buff… the Slayer… is the one that did this to you.” She reaches out and lightly traces a fingertip over a particularly nasty bruise marring one of his cheeks. “It’s not the first time is it?” She breathes, remembering other marks and times that Spike made a clearly false excuse for not meeting them on some of the nights he’d promised to help them. She could weep for the pain he’s endured. “I’m sorry, Spike. I think she did come back wrong. I can’t apologize for what she’s done but I can be a friend to you if that’s what you want. You helped me and I want to help you now, will you let me?”

Seeing the indecision in William’s eyes Penn moves to comfort him. “I can claim her. With my mark on her no one would dare to touch her.”

“Claim me? What does that mean?” Tara asks confused.

“Things weren’t always as they are now. There was a time when it wasn’t unusual for a Master Vampire, especially the Master of an Order, to have Human attendants and functionaries. After all we’re somewhat limited when it comes to operating in the daytime hours when the majority of the world does business. Humans and other Demon species without our limitations were often employed to handle our affairs. That is where the stories about Human servants first originated one could assume. However even back then finding even so much as a single Human that could be trusted was not an easy prospect so when one was found their Master took steps to protect them. Each bore the mark of the Master they served and to interfere with or injure them was to raise a hand against the Master.” Penn explains. He curls his fingertips under William’s jaw and tenderly guides his head back and to the side, baring his throat. His fingertips brush over the scar displayed prominently on his throat.

He then tilts his head back and to the side displaying a similar scar on his neck as well. “These are the marks of our Sires. Another Vampire could tell who sired us by these marks. When a Human is so marked it tells Vampires and other Demons who their patron, and hence protector, is.”

“So it’s like the demonic version of a coat of arms or the colours that a squire would wear to identify which Knight they were apprenticed to?” Tara questions.

“Yes vaguely I suppose. It’s more like a King’s seal though since I’m the Master of the Aurelius Order. You would be something in-between a steward, vassal, and a member of my, our, family. Since Angelus has been declared outcast for his part in the destruction of three members of his bloodline and Drusilla because she is quite mad and unreliable has been also made an outcast, William and I are the last of our bloodline. At least until we sire Childer of our own.” Penn replies.

“So you would need to bite me? Will you turn me?” Tara asks with uncharacteristic boldness.

“Eventually most trusted Humans are turned but usually at their request and out of genuine affection for their Master. They would rather die temporarily and be reborn then to face growing old and dying so almost all will usually ask for the turning. The servant would of course be a Childe and not a Minion for there is hardly any reward but slavery waiting for a Minion. It is their lot in existence to always serve the whimsy of those stronger then themselves.” Penn answers, being just as bluntly honest. “There may and likely will come a time when being what we are will cease to frighten you and you’ll come to want eternity if you choose to remain with us. However you have my word that the decision will be yours, totally and completely, in all decisions regarding your person. You will not be passed around like a living blood bank or made to do anything that you don’t wish to do. If you choose to live and die as a Human then that is what will happen and we will mourn a lost friend but we will not force you.”

“Do you want me to stay with you Spike?” Tara asks quietly. A peaceful smile curves her lips as Spike hesitates for only a moment and then nods, letting his eyes speak the words that his injured throat cannot. “Then I would like to stay and I accept the necessities and responsibilities that come with it. I have only three requests if I may? I do not want to be turned, at least not at this point in my life; I want to stay as I am.” Penn nods and Spike tries to also but he is still weak and in pain from his injuries so he squeezes her hand gently instead. “Secondly, I wish to remain with Spike, where he goes, I go.” Tara makes it clear that her second request is non-negotiable. “Lastly, I wish to continue my study of magic. I want to help defend my friends and myself and be able to help Spike.”

“I am positive that Jacob will be glad to help you with your magical studies Tara. I could not have chosen anyone better to be his companion. I may not know you well Witchling but I sense that I can trust you and that William does as well. I think that we will deal well together in caring for our stubborn charge here.” Penn agrees with a nod. “You shall be with us whenever it is possible but I must ask if you have truly considered what it is you’re going to be living with. We may walk as men but we are not. We are Vampires and we must be true to what we are and live according to our natures. That means that you’ll be seeing us feed and be living along side us and see things that no living being has seen in over one hundred generations.”

“Is it possible to feed without killing?” Tara asks hesitantly, afraid of upsetting her host.

“Yes it is possible for a Master but few Fledglings have the necessary control over their Demons to make it easy for them. Most Childer are able to gain the necessary control over their Demons within their initial years as a Fledgling but few if any Minions have the strength and control required to make it possible for them to learn to feed without killing. The Masters of the Order rarely have to bother with hunting down a meal when it so often comes to us.”

“What do you mean Penn?” Tara asks genuinely intrigued.

“There are those that seek us out and that are willing to exchange a pint of blood every so often for the few moments of ecstasy that our bite can bring.” Penn says with a wink. “A true Master can make the process of bloodletting quite enjoyable for both parties. I have handed down an edict against the termination of innocents. There are enough ‘donors’ around to keep the Masters and their Childer hale and hearty and there is no need to kill them. If they are left alive then in a few weeks their reserves will have been restored and we can once again feed and it is mutually beneficial and renewable. The donors will fulfil the necessity we have for the ‘living’ blood that keeps us healthy and there is always the blood bank to feed our physical hunger. They are constantly disposing of pints for one reason or another and it is a simple matter to ensure we receive the discards rather then the disposal furnaces. The city is full of enough evil that the minions and the young can hunt and at least then their depredations will serve some other more altruistic concerns. I can’t promise you that they will only hunt evil or wicked humans that deserve to meet an unkind fate but I have commanded that it be so.”

“I understand what you’re saying and I never thought that I would hear such concessions from you. I made my choices understanding that I would be living among Demons and I stand by it. The decisions rest more easily on my heart now that I have heard that though.” Tara admits.

“This is no longer an age when we can live as we have in times passed. If we plan to survive among Humanity we must learn to camouflage ourselves among their number. If Humanity should learn the truth of our existence now… we couldn’t hope to win an all out war and all we would gain is extinction. The time has come for us to learn new ways and blend them with the legacy and heritage of the old. Your analogy about a feudal system was a very apt one. We can learn to exist alongside Humans rather then being run over and trampled by them. You two can show us how to do that. It won’t be easy but we have the full support of all of the pure-blood Masters and what Childer they have.”

“You’ve said that word before too, pure-blood, what does it mean? I mean Vampires don’t procreate in the traditional sense… right?” Tara inquires.

“Well not without a lot of ‘help’ or maybe I should call it interference from someone or something with the power to make it happen but it would be a freakish occurrence. I could foresee little else but trouble should that have ever occurred. A sign of an apocalypse or the machinations of some larger chess game I’d imagine. It would mean nothing but pain for the Vampire so ‘gifted’ though because again while we walk like men, we’re Vampires. Our Demons see weakness, vulnerability, and innocence as qualities inherent in our *prey* not our offspring. I imagine the Demon and what remains of their human instinct would war constantly. When I say pure-blood it refers to the circumstances involved in how one becomes a Master.” Penn explains.

“A pure-blood Master is one that was sired as a Childe, nurtured, trained, and raised by a Master that was created in the same way by their Sire. Such Masters are the strongest of our kind but there are other ways to achieve Mastery, darker and less desirable ways. Contrary to popular belief if a minion survives long enough it is possible in time for them to amass a degree of power that cannot surpass a pure-blood Master’s strength but can in some be comparable. A minion can also become a Master through betrayal. If they can defeat, trick, or betray enough pure-blood Masters and drain them, they’ll eventually become Masters themselves but of course the unfortunate Masters who helped them to become one are forever destroyed. Such Masters are rarely acknowledged openly and there were times when they were hunted and destroyed as the abominations they were but with the ranks of the pure-bloods dwindling as it is….” Penn trails off.

“Some of the Bastard-Blood, as they’ve come to be called, have managed to secure positions of power in Vampire Society. Entire Orders have been usurped in such a fashion though the bloodlines are rarely sustainable and they degenerate to the point that their Childer can no longer achieve Master ranking and they begin to produce minions once more. The only way for their Childer to raise their status is to repeat the vile acts that transformed their Sires into Masters. I have declared such cannibalistic practices as being forbidden, those found to have done it are destroyed unless it was done willingly.” Penn states with a dark expression.

“There is a pure-blood Master that would choose such a fate?!” Tara exclaims, surprised by the notion.

“Some of the ancients that were the last of their bloodlines or Orders will occasionally choose a minion they’ve created to succeed them and give up their essence as they surrender their existence. It’s rare but it has been known to happen in our history. The transfer of blood changes the minion into a Childe of a sort and they will in time become Masters through the old ways if they survive long enough. Few Childer do survive without their Sire when so young however. It is more common for the Master of an Order to choose one who is already a Childe of a pure-blood Master; one perhaps exiled by their Sire or out of favour for whatever reason, and then sires them as their own Childe.”

“It’s possible to… adopt… another Vampire’s Childer? I didn’t think that was possible.” Tara is amazed by what she *doesn’t* know about Vampires.

“Well adopt is perhaps not a very accurate word for it. It is much more involved and serious then the process one goes through to adopt. The one to be sired or re-sired in this case, must first be drained of their life-blood. This is the most dangerous part of the process for it is a very delicate matter to drain the Childe to the necessary point without unintentionally destroying them. If it is done correctly and the Childe is willing, they enter into a coma-like state, trapped between destruction and existence. Their new Sire-to-be then feeds them their blood, mirroring the act that initially transformed them. The act severs the tie to their previous Sire and during the next week they… sleep and transform. Their new Sire must then guard and tend to them while they… are waiting to be reborn, feeding the evolving Childe solely from their bodies. The more blood they feed their Childe-to-be the stronger their Childe/Sire bond will be when they awaken. It is a very time consuming process and not one without its dangers. Many Childer AND their would-be Sires have been destroyed attempting it.” Penn reveals in a conspiratorial tone.

“The Sires are killed as well?” Tara asks aghast.

“Creating a Childe is a deeply intimate act and it requires the lowering of certain mental, emotional, and physical barriers as the psychic bonds between Childe and Sire form, both are vulnerable. The Sire can do little but care for and feed their Childe during their week long sleep and rarely leave their side during the entire process. That means depending on others to ensure their safety and to attend to them as they attend to their Childe. The possibility that something could go wrong is legion and bound as they are the destruction of one could cause the destruction of the other.”

“I had… absolutely no idea. None of Giles’ books said anything even remotely like that. Everything they believe really is built on lies and half truths.” Tara says and she can’t help but feel disappointed in the man she once admired so much. Giles always seemed so wise but now she wonders how much of that is just smoke and mirrors.

“It’s easier to kill what you can’t really understand. Humans are a rather curious lot as a species. You hunt for sport, kill other species for food or just for convenience because they’re in your way, rape the very planet that sustains you without giving anything back. You fight amongst yourselves constantly and few things come as cheaply as human lives to your own kind. You kill each other over material things, religions, beliefs and ideals without understanding *why* you’re fighting. We hunt because we must to survive. We don’t have the option of choosing to be vegetarian or to eat beef or fish as opposed to chicken. We can subsist on animal blood but to be HEALTHY we need to feed on Human blood, occasionally from the well-spring or we grow progressively weaker. It becomes harder to control the Demon and eventually we become… less then we were… and eventually we reach the point where we become prey to our own kind. Or a punching bag for a mentally damaged Slayer.” Penn growls angrily. “Humans destroy anything and everything that is not patterned after them. It’s like a virus or cancer attacking cells and destroying them or remaking them in their own image. We are reviled because we feed on humanity, as wolves cull the sheep or deer herds but those we take over our existence amounts to only a handful compared to your billions. I imagine cows and sheep and the other animals Humans feed on take exception at it but what do their lives matter to Humans? They see them only as the means to their survival not as living beings they’re preying upon. Seeing those neatly packaged meats and foods make it so easy for them to forget they’re predators too. We are destroyed… humans just go to the market for another steak.” Penn’s voice trails off as he realizes he’s preaching and he blushes and looks away.

A gentle nudge against his hand brings his head back up and he smiles at William as he rubs the tousled curls and waves of his riotous hair against his hand in silent comfort. “There are of course compensations for the risk. There are few things that can top the feeling of being part of another person and sharing that level of intimacy. It’s a spiritual communion that is… indescribable.” Penn’s voice sounds both reverent and a little melancholy at the same time.

William catches his attention by nudging his hand with his head again and as Penn turns his attention to him, he weakly raises his free hand and taps his chest, a pleading expression in his eyes.

Penn’s brow furrows as he tries to figure out what William is trying to communicate to him and he wishes; and it is far from the first time; that they had the Childe-Sire bond that would allow them to share their thoughts. “Do you need something Wil? Are you hungry?” He questions gently.

Tara’s eyes widen as Spike repeats the gestures, his eyes desperately trying to plead as his voice cannot and she silently reviews the conversation and it suddenly hits her just what he’s hoping for and her eyes widen in surprise. “You want that don’t you, you miss feeling that?” She sighs sadly as she feels his hand weakly squeezing hers under the comforter. She turns her head to meet Penn’s curious gaze. “He’s asking you if you want him, want that bond with him. I think that he’s trying to tell you that it’s what he wants.” Tara says hesitantly, unsure she’s got it just right. The gentle squeeze on her hand lets her know that she did interpret his wishes correctly and she relaxes and watches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want Wil? You have to be sure, it can’t be undone once it’s done and Drusilla will never forgive us, not that I care what that mad bird does but there is a slim chance that Angel will also feel it happen. What Angel knows somewhere locked up inside him, Angelus will also know and he will probably try to destroy us both if he ever escapes that cage. You have to be sure. I will cherish you and care for you as a Sire should for all my endless nights; that I swear to you on the blood which made us.” Penn says with a serious expression but his eyes are lit from within by pleasure and it’s clear that he does want to have that bond with him.

William’s chest expands as he takes a deep breath and they can feel his muscles tensing beneath their hands and then it comes; the simple and eloquent nod proclaiming his decision as loudly as any shout could have done.

“Then it will be so but it cannot be now or soon I fear. You must heal and we must make you well once more before we can even attempt it as I will not lose you now or ever because I was impatient. A year or two at the most and we’ll do it then alright?” Penn says happily. He has his family back and for the first time in a very long time the nights stretching out ahead of him are full of possibilities rather then loss.

“What about me? I think it would be easier and safer if I were already marked when we arrive.” Tara muses.

“Yes, it would be safest and it is something that all Vampires understand instinctively so we wouldn’t have to give any long winded explanations.” Penn agrees.

“Ravali said that it would be best if Spike fed soon and from a human and I qualify I believe? If you were to… pierce the skin during the claiming, he could feed from the wound?” Tara asks bluntly.

“I don’t know how his chip functions but since I would be inflicting that initial moment of pain as the fangs pierce, it is possible that he could then feed without causing you pain. I know William has the ability to make his bite quite pleasurable under the right circumstances. With his more… exotic….”

Tara can’t help but blush as she imagines that Penn at first intended to say something different then ‘exotic’.

“…Talents I think that William could still manage to feed despite the chip. If he hasn’t tried then it’s by choice. He is the most formidable Seducer I’ve ever known. He could beguile the sun not to rise or a new moon to shine full if he put a mind to it I think. Angelus had little respect for Seducers and their powers. He prided himself on having strong warriors as Childer and we bled until we were. He was always fond of making us bleed….” Penn’s voice trails off again. After several seconds he snaps out of it. “We learned to be fighters. It’s what the Aurelius Order is known for and Angelus always had to be the best at everything he did. He treated his Childer like accessories there to make *him* look better.”

“Then he was a fool.” Tara snaps, inexplicably angry at Angelus and Angel both for the wounds both accidentally and purposefully inflicted on his Childer. “I am ready.” Even as she says it she realizes that she means it. If the day comes that she does want to be turned then she knows that her fate will rest easily in Spike’s hands and she will be loved regardless of what she is, Human or Demon. She deliberately sweeps her hair aside and tilts her head, baring her throat and smiling a peaceful smile.

The strike when it comes isn’t an invasion but a slow, sensual taking that leaves her breathless. There is a moment of sharp pain as Penn predicted but it quickly fades as the fire rushes through her in a moment of orgasmic pleasure. She is floating in a world of sensation and she is barely aware as gentle hands tenderly shift her to rest along side a hard, muscled form that is pleasant against her heated skin. She sighs at the feel of a silken tongue sweeping over his sensitive neck in a delicate sweep. Lost in the sensation, she isn’t aware of the fangs slipping into the neat punctures that bleed sluggishly on her throat and sinking deeper. When the second set slip into her throat on the other side she only shudders and writhes at the hot sensation.

Penn takes only a sip or two before retracting his fangs and leaning back to watch over the pair. Tara will bear both of their marks proudly and no one will dare to defile what is theirs. He keeps a close eye on William as he feeds but he can see that he is being careful and tender with the young witch and he soon retracts his fangs and licks the wounds closed. Tara should have no ill effects from this feeding as she has been drained nowhere near to the point of danger. He quakes faintly as William’s tongue seeks the mark that he sunk deep into her flesh. Under that skilfully tender tongue every trace of blood is swept away and soon a fully healed Vampire claim mark emerges glistening bright and new. Only then does William let his head fall back to the pillow, still too weak to do much else. Penn nods, satisfied by the night’s accomplishments. He never let himself believe that this would ever come to pass and he feared that having William as his own would only be a dream that tormented his sleeping mind with its myriad of visions.

Yet here he sits in a dream turned reality. William will be his own. He has spent the more then a century since he first saw him wishing that he had seen the shy, young poet first and sired him instead of Drusilla. It will happen and he suspects that some day the quiet but powerful young witch one day will join them in eternity too. Perhaps she will even be the first of their Childer and maybe they can even sire her in tandem and raise her together as the Humans do their children. He tucks the comforter around William’s shoulders and stands crossing around the end of the bed and kneeling beside Tara, who is dozing sleepily.

It takes him only a few moments to remove her jacket, skirt, and gauzy peasant style blouse leaving her in the comfortable scoop-necked bodysuit to preserve her modesty. Within a couple of minutes Tara is settled under the comforter beside William and Penn smiles as she turns on her side and instinctively cuddles against his side. He slips his coat off and undresses quickly and quietly, slipping into a stormy grey-blue velvet robe and matching suede soled moccasins before he quietly leaves the bedroom for the other compartment.

Three eager faces look up at his approach and the large grin that curves his mouth upward has them all breathing a sigh of relief.

“Ms. Maclay has given herself over to us, she bears the claim mark of not only me but; with a bit of help on my part and her willingness to allow it; she bears William’s as well. She was willing to feed William herself and they are both sleeping and recovering. He will be healing for a long time though I fear.” Aaron and Genevra look shocked but accepting while Ravali beams, proud that her instincts about the young witch have proven to be right.

“I knew that the young one would stay with the young Master. My Jacob will be so pleased.” Ravali promises with a clap of her hands. “The power is strong in her and my Jacob has long desired a new apprentice who is worthy of *all* his teachings. I think he will be well pleased in the young one.”

“That is excellent news Ravali! Tara has expressed an interest in continuing her magical studies and I’m sure that she would appreciate a mentor of Jacob’s ability. Genevra, are you going to have a problem with Tara? If so speak up now.” Penn pours a wine glass of blood from a warmer carafe sitting on the table and has a seat.

“No Milord, if she has given herself to us and allowed herself to be claimed and thereby bound to your service that makes her one of our own and not a ‘Human.’ I must admit she seems a most atypical Human from what I have experienced.” Genevra admits.

“I think she is a most unusual woman nevermind human.” Penn admits. “I sense remarkable depths in her. She will be an asset to us. She accompanied me with no more assurance then my word that she would be safe in order to help William whom she counts as a true friend. She gave herself to us with little more then trust and good will to protect her and we will honour that. She left with nothing more then the clothes on her back, could you please attend to getting her a wardrobe suitable for her new station in life Genevra?”

“I’ll take her to see Lilia when we return Milord; she’ll adore outfitting Ms. Maclay with a complete wardrobe and her designs will make the most of that glorious figure.” Genevra agrees.

“Aaron, do we have someone good to assign to Tara as an escort? I would rather your Brother and yourself concentrate on William’s security exclusively.” Penn asks, as he sips from his glass.

“Grady or Ian would be my suggestion. They’re personable and charming but proficient and their loyalty to the Order is unquestioning and absolute. Once they realize she is bound to both of the Masters of the Order she will be as Royalty to them. They will protect her with their existences.” Aaron assures him after a few moments of pondering his response.

“Grady would be an excellent choice, I agree. He’s very calm and level-headed in a crisis but Ian is the better fighter.” Erick calls back from the driver’s seat, having replaced his twin for this leg of their journey.

“Assign them both.” Penn orders definitively. “It would be a wise precaution until the presence of a bound Human sinks into the members of our Order. It has been many years since the last one walked among us and some of the Fledglings and Neonates may be unaware of how to treat one. Be sure that the word spreads quickly about Tara. She is bound to William and I and *only* to us, she is not chattel here to service the Vampire race. She is answerable only to William and I as his companion; in any matter that will not lead to her injury or that of the Order, her will shall be her own. I will have her protected however, so if her life is at risk, they will act, am I understood? I don’t think that I would have William if it were not for the kindness she has shown him and the loyalty she has shown for him. She saved his sanity and the least we can do is safeguard her life.”

“What of her housing Milord? She will be living in the Chantry correct?” Ravali asks professionally. “I must arrange suitable quarters for the young one when we arrive.”

“William has asked that I take Angelus’ place as his Sire.” Ravali opens her mouth to argue but closes it as Penn holds up his hand forestalling her. “I know that it would be foolhardy to try it while he is so weak and I have accepted but told him it must wait a year or two for him to be well and fully recovered. He’s agreed to wait but I see no reason to wait for the ceremony to begin acting as his Sire. To that end William will be with me, he’ll share my quarters as he shares my bed now. I would have him be close at hand. There are six suites on the floor that houses my own correct?”

“Yes, Milord, there are six suites, each with two bedrooms, as well as an equal number of smaller rooms suitable for attendants and valets and such. Henri, your valet, can manage to attend to you both for a time but it would be proper for the Young Master to have a valet of his own. I believe Henri has Childer does he not?” Ravali muses.

“Yes, he has one Childe, Paxton as last I recall.” Genevra supplies after she thinks for a moment. “He has Grand-Childer though, two as I remember. Micah is the elder, a Neonate out of Maya his first-sired and now dust. The other is barely ten years a Fledgling, out of Paxton. Jillian, I believe she is called. What about Murielle, she is only two years a Fledgling but she is quiet and very sweet natured but competent from my experience.”

“Murielle’s Sire was destroyed by the Watchers last year and she has no one to raise her. She will never make Master but she is quite sweet as Genevra said. She has no talent for fighting but her skill at caring for a charge cannot be denied. She is quite popular among the Elders who visit the Chantry; some of them even request her attendance to their needs personally.” Ravali relays to them.

“I have met Paxton and no disrespect to Henri but he is a feebleminded jackass who is more interested in his appearance then anything else. Ask Henri if Micah is willing to attend to William and Murielle sounds like an ideal Lady’s Maid for Tara.” Penn decides finally after musing over the choices.

“Henri will try to suggest Paxton instead, thinking to improve his Childe’s prospects by service to the Master’s favourite.” Ravali points out with a grimace.

“That is of little concern as I will not have that strutting peacock near my William. Micah struck me as sensible and responsible when I met him and he will do an admirable job as Wil’s valet.” Penn says implacably. “Henri will not push the issue too greatly, fearing for his own position.”

“Very well Milord, Micah for the young Master and Murielle for the Witchling.” Ravali agrees. “I will order two of the smaller rooms be prepared for them. The young Master has a suite prepared already in the suite next to your own as you ordered. Why not let the Witchling occupy that suite? It connects to your own so it is like one suite but she shall have the privacy and space that a young woman of quality deserves. The second bedroom could easily be converted to a ritual room for her studies.”

“That’s an excellent idea Ravali. Could you arrange to have the convert our suite as well since we won’t need two bedrooms? Perhaps as a study or library for Wil or some other space he’ll enjoy and can make his own? The office in the suite is cluttered with my things so he might enjoy a personal space of his own. I know that he enjoys his books and writing, or once he did at least.” Penn proposes. “Aaron, I know that you two have rooms on another floor but would you mind moving up to the penthouse floor with Erick? I’d feel much more comfortable if you two were nearby.”

Aaron is shocked and he can feel that his twin shares his surprise through the link that connects them. To be offered suites on the same floor as the Master of their Order is a tremendous honour and their status among the Masters of the Order will be elevated considerably. Only Ravali by virtue of her centuries of loyal and capable service to the Order, William and Penn, would be afforded more respect. When he answers he knows that he is answering for them both. “It would be an honour to serve you.”

“There are two suites on the other side of the Master’s suite and that the young Witchling will have, I will have the minions prepare them immediately and move your possessions. Two suitable valets will be secured to your service.” Ravali claps, happy for the twin Brothers’ elevation in status.

Genevra smiles happily as well. As the Childe/Mate of Penn’s adopted Childe Lawson and her place as Penn’s assistant and handler of the Guild’s business affairs her own status is considerable. No other Neonate of the Order outranks her in status. She will have Master ranking by the time Penn or William have Childer of their own reach Neonate rank and she is happy with her place in the bloodline.

“Is the shielding spell Jacob cast still working Ravali? I don’t want anyone tracking us down before we’re ready.” Penn inquires.

“It is still working; I can feel it tingling like ants on my skin. Only Jacob could break the spell, no other could cast the divination spells to find us.” Ravali assures him. “He will have layered an army of protection and shield spells over to reinforce the spells already protecting the Chantry. We shall not be discovered until we wish to be.”

“Excellent! I have a job for you Genevra. I want to know everything there is to know about the current Slayer, her family, her friends, *everything*. We are owed recompense and I will have justice for William’s pain. Find me something I can use to hurt her but I don’t want her dead, not yet at least, just in pain.”

“And what of this Initiative Bastard that Ravali told us about?” Aaron demands.

“There will be no mercy for that one. Spread the word throughout the Order, to *every* Order. One million pounds sterling, for every head of an Initiative member that they bring us shall be the bounty. If they can capture one of their doctors alive, that can tell us about that abomination they’ve implanted in William’s head, I’ll give them ten million pounds sterling. If they can bring me information that leads to a way of freeing William from that bloody leash, ten million pounds sterling as a *bonus* and the gratitude and good will of the Aurelius Order is their reward for their service to me.”

“Deaths on the scale of what we can expect will number into the hundreds will likely attract the attention of the Watchers.” Erick calls back.

“Place the bounty on the network, soon every Demon in a hundred countries will be hunting down Initiative members and they will be unable to place the source of the bounty. If we use the off-shore and Swiss accounts, they will not be able to connect them to us directly until it is too late to stop us.” Penn states with a cold smile, draining the last of the contents in his glass and carefully setting the delicate crystal down. “No one touches Finn! I want to take care of him personally.”

“Some of the other Orders have detailed records on the Initiative that may prove helpful added to our own. Do I have permission to negotiate for access to them? The price could be dear.” Genevra asks.

“Deal only with the Orders that we are allied with. If you need information from any of the others talk to me about it first. I won’t have us beholden to the Bastard Orders.” Penn growls menacingly.

“Yes Milord. I doubt those upstarts would have much worth negotiating for or that we could trust to be accurate even if they did.” Genevra agrees with a sniff of disdain. “Is there anything else Milord?”

Penn hesitates for a minute. “Yes.” He says finally. “Compile a report on Angelus as well.” He frowns sadly before standing and making his way back to the bedroom compartment. Right now sleeping next to William and surrounded by the Human warmth of their new friend Tara sounds very appealing.

The others watch him go and then shooting quiet looks at each other they separate to attend to their varied tasks as the motor home rumbles along the road to home.

Chapter One (Six Months Later)

The front door slams on the sound of angry voices and Dawn takes a deep breath and jogs towards the curb side mailbox to grab the mail. She briefly wonders if she can leave the mail and just keep walking. Anything would be better then another night in that house.

It’s been four months since Tara disappeared and Willow hasn’t been handling it well. Her magic use has become dangerous, as has her ‘association’ with the restored Amy, freed from her life as a rat by Willow’s magic. If you ask her, but of course none of them do, Amy is still a rat; she just doesn’t look like one anymore. Giles has flown back from London no less then six times to deal with messes either caused or exacerbated by Willow’s misuse of magic. None of them would dare to say it to Willow’s face but they’ve talked quietly among themselves and they all believe that Tara was finally fed up with Willow’s increasing abuses of magic and the strain it was placing on their relationship. All of Willow’s attempts to use her magic to locate Tara have failed spectacularly and Giles’ belief that Tara has somehow shielded herself from Willow’s magic is laughable to the ever increasingly arrogant red haired witch. All they’ve been able to discover is that Tara requested a refund of her dorm room rental fees, tuition, and copies of her transcripts mailed to an address in Venice, Italy of all places. The trail grew cold from there however and it is the prevalent opinion that Tara has gone abroad to get away from Sunnydale and memories of Willow.

Buffy’s temper has been little better in light of what they all assume was Spike’s departure from Sunnydale. Why she’s so positive that Spike would have chosen to leave rather then meeting a darker fate, she’s never explained nor has she answered any of their questions. It’s clear however that despite her very vocal desire for Spike to leave, she never really believed that he would.

With tempers so frayed every little incident between Willow and Buffy is magnified a thousand times over and results in loud shouting matches and fights that can last for days. It was only once they were gone that the contributions Tara and Spike made to the fight for Sunnydale were seen for what they were. Giles even went so far as to contact Angel about possibly finding Tara to hopefully restore peace to the household and spare the incessant calls for help that bring him from London constantly. His inquiries about Spike’s whereabouts were voiced much more quietly but in the end Angel was unable to get even a hint of where either of them could be, a fact that Angel admitted that he found highly suspicious but not so much so that he was alarmed.

She sighs and gives into the inevitable and slowly turns around for the walk back to the house while she absentmindedly thumbs through the mail. Her steps falter and stop as she stares at a thick envelope addressed to her with a familiar handwriting. She would know the lilting, elegant script anywhere as Spike’s incredibly lovely penmanship. There isn’t a return address but she didn’t honestly expect there to be one nor will be tell her where he is; just in the off chance that the letter should find it’s way into Buffy’s hands. Her heart speeds up and she quickly tucks the thick fine linen paper envelope in the waistband and pulls her thick sweater over it and she hurries inside with a light step.

She dodges the minefield of the on-going argument flying between Buffy and Willow and spares a moment’s pity for a harried Xander who is trying his best to calm down his furious friends but his effort is nothing compared to their ire. She barely pauses long enough to throw the mail down on the entrance table before she darts up the stairs to her room. She grabs her backpack and hurriedly stuffs all but one of her school books inside. She opens the book she left out and carefully places the letter inside its concealing pages before she closes it and pushes it into the bag with the others. She puts in her notebooks and several pens and pencils before she closes it tightly and leaves the room.

She makes her way down the stairs quietly and clears her throat loudly to get the attention at the trio trying to stare holes through each other. “Buffy you promised to drop me off at the library so that I could research my report.” She reminds her sister quietly, actually glad for once that she *has* homework.

“I don’t have time to be running you all over town Dawn, I’ll take you later.” Buffy says huffily.

“The library closes early mid-week Buffy and you said you’d take me. I need at least a ‘B’ on this report or my grades will slip. The social worker is coming next month and you know she’ll ask to see my report card, she always does, and you told me I’d be in trouble if it wasn’t as good if not better then the last one. I’m trying but you have to help me, you said that’d you’d take me and pick me up.” Dawn argues but Buffy ignores her in favour of launching another verbal volley at Willow and Xander. After a minute or two she just shoulders her backpack and walks out. It’s less then three blocks if she cuts through the Galleria, the lengthening spring day should make the walk safe enough and she’ll be there well before the sun goes down in a few hours.

Her prediction is true and she arrives at the Library unmolested and well before sunset. She nods at the librarian on duty and gestures towards the main staircase that dominates the library’s lobby and the woman waves her on with an absentminded sweeping gesture. With a shrug she jogs up the main stairs and hangs a right and heads for the farthest corner and a lovely wrought iron spiral staircase. She emerges in the reading loft area. The carpeting is thick and well padded and no tables clutter up the floor space. There are some thickly padded sofas along the rear wall and a matching chintz covered chair dotted here or there around the space. Pillows of every size and shape are piled carelessly in various stages of neatness all over the carpet. There are a few people milling about the loft, mostly in pairs or little groups of three or four. Nearby a woman is reading to a little boy curled up in her lap but from the sleepily blinking eyes, it’s only a matter of time before he’s napping.

Dawn feels a pang of regret squeeze her heart as she remembers the more then one night that Spike sat with her in much the same position. He would hold her and soothe her out of her nightmares or the bouts of insomnia that the fear of having one caused by reading to her from various classic works of literature. His patience with her was limitless when everyone else just seemed uncomfortable to be around her in those days following Buffy’s death. She misses him and she misses Tara’s gentle maternal embraces and unconditional love. It was almost like having parents again… well what her memories say that it was like anyway, since she was never truly ‘born’ to begin with. That didn’t matter to Spike or Tara though, key or not she’s a young woman now and that’s how they always treated her.

It takes her only a few moments and a bit of effort to make a nest of several of the largest pillows and curl up with her backpack sitting neatly beside her. She opens the backpack and carefully pulls out and opens several books and spreads them out around her, flipping through them to find the pages she needs. She opens her notebook and sets a pen atop it. She has enough research to do her report but she just wanted a respite from all the fighting. The stage set in case Buffy or one of the others should come looking for her, she pulls out the book concealing her letter from Spike and eagerly pulls out the thick envelope.

She carefully works the flap open, trying not to tear the thick old-fashioned linen paper. It takes her a couple of minutes but she manages to do it without ripping it and she eagerly tips the envelope to shake out the later but the glint of gold that slithers out to rest in her laps catches her eye. She sets the letter down and lifts the chain in front of her eyes and they widen in startled appreciation.

The chain is actually made from loops of the tiniest gold links she’s every seen braided together to form rope. The clasp is shaped like the head of a Dragon clasping its tail in its mouth. The necklace is long enough though that she could just slip it over her head without undoing the clasp at all and it would still dip down a fair distance down her chest. An oval charm hangs from the chain and it bears a curious embossed symbol that looks like the artwork she’s seen in some of the oldest books that Spike used to read to her. A Gryphon; she suddenly remembers Spike telling her it was a Gryphon design from the Book of Kells, the symbol of the Vampire Clan that he belonged to. The mythical hybrid of a Lion and an Eagle has adorned the Coat of Arms for many Kings and Houses of Royalty throughout history. The design has been carefully worked into the precious metal in bas relief and she reaches out to brush her thumb over it when she feels something on the reverse side. She flips it so that it’s resting on her cupped palm and displaying the opposite side. She smiles at the expertly rendered design but is curious about what it represents. There is a large cross; rendered in the Christian style; dominating the back of the oval pendant. A beautiful single Rose on a thorn filled stem is coiled around its support, clingingly delicately but with strength of purpose. Dawn smiles and brushes the pad of her thumb over the tiny, expertly rendered, miniature spike that is resting at the base of the cross at an angle and draped by the rose stem. It’s truly a lovely necklace and she slips it over her head adjusting it over her shirt.

She looks down at it and smiles at how it looks against the black fabric of her t-shirt… well Spike’s t-shirt really, though she’s the only one that knows that. Clem kindly let her take the things that Spike left behind in his Crypt. She managed to hide the depressingly small box in the attic crawlspace on day while Buffy and Willow were out but she couldn’t help herself and kept a couple of Spike’s t-shirts for herself. She hopes to one day return Spike’s things to him or that he’ll return to Sunnydale and she can give them to him personally. She knows that Buffy had something to do with his leaving despite her refusal to discuss him at all and she can’t help but feel angry at her for it or at Willow for driving Tara away.

Shaking away her maudlin thoughts she picks up the envelope again and using her index finger and thumb she eases out the letter. It opens and drops several pictures, a thin plastic mini-disk case and a very thin cardboard-bound booklet into her lap and she pounces on them eagerly. She stares at the first picture in amazement. It’s clearly Spike but she’s never seen her protective caretaker in quite this light before.

He looks amazing but very different from when she last saw him. His hair is still moonlight pale but it’s longer and brushes his shoulders. It has been gathered into a low ponytail, the tip flipped over his shoulder to curl against his collarbone. He’s dressed in a pair of worn and faded blue jeans that have turned white with age and wear and frayed at the knees showing hints of skin peeking through the worn threads. The soft looking sweater that he’s wearing, with the sleeves pushed up to the elbow, is that curious colour that is so dark that it appears to change from dark purple or black depending on how the light hits it. Dark Indian style moccasins and his usual jewellery complete the casual but stylish look.

Physically he looks well, his hair is almost glowing, and not because of the colour, but with the shine of good health and his pale skin has that perfect suede like finish that women would kill for. For a man not much taller then average height, Spike’s always cut an imposing figure with his perfectly sculpted muscles and intimidating presence. Apparently his sheer personality is very much a part of him as it shines through even in a simple two dimensional photo. He’s gained some weight and that gaunt edge to his musculature has faded but she traces her fingertips over some dark smudges dotting his skin here or there.

She’s not sure how or why she’s so sure but she knows that those still healing bruises have something to do with why he left. It is the deep pain that those marvellous eyes of his can’t hide that speaks to her the loudest. She flips the picture over and reads the words printed neatly on the back which says ‘William’ and a date only four days before. Spike has been deeply wounded and she hates to imagine how much he must have suffered to still have visible marks six months later; because she knows from the look of betrayal and pain lurking in his eyes that Buffy inflicted them.

“Oh Buffy what have you done?” She moans under her breath. “Was Spike right? Did you come back wrong? We should have listened to him….”

She sets that picture carefully back into the envelope before she picks up the next one. She stares at the picture of a pretty young woman in confusion for several seconds and then she starts to grin as she realizes she’s looking at a picture of Tara! Like Spike she’s both changed yet managed to keep herself recognizable at the same time. Her long hair has been cut several inches shorter and it barely brushes the tops of her shoulder blades. Long layers of increasing length have been expertly styled into her thick hair, the shortest layers brushing forward to frame her beautiful face before the longer layers sweep backward to frame her neck and shoulders. Without the extra weight of length the natural curls and waves in her hair are emphasized. Her hair is darker then she remembers too, the honey blond giving way to a darker mane of golden brown shades with red and gold highlights. The darker shades complement her honey skin tones and her eyes making them glow with vibrancy.

Tara looks stylish and sophisticated in a sleeveless black dress. The polo-collared front zipping bodice frames her impressive cleavage and graceful neck. The zip is lowered to just above the swell of her breasts and the straight skirt of the classic little black dress flares slightly to a mid-thigh length finish. A simple black belt with silver hardware rests low on her abdomen reflecting Tara’s newly displayed trim body. She has lost none of her soft curves but it’s clear to see that her musculature is more developed and she’s lost a little weight. The look is classical and tasteful; its tailored lines so clearly suited for showing off her spectacular body without looking cheap or overtly sexual. It’s a clean fresh look that shows how beautiful Tara really is. A white jacket is tossed casually over her arm and black and white sling back pumps with two inch heels complete her transformation. Tara left Sunnydale a broken girl but this picture shows a mature and happy young woman with the glow of confidence around her that is very approachable and appealing. Her expression is confident and peaceful and the smile curving her lips is reflected in her eyes.

She returns the second picture to the envelope and looks at the last one. As she looks at the picture Dawn smiles. It is Spike and Tara, this time dressed formally and joined by a third man that she doesn’t know.

Spike looks extremely handsome in a tailored black suit and steel grey-blue dress shirt. He is sitting on a large old-fashioned looking chair and behind him she can see a tapestry bearing the same Gryphon symbol that adorns the front of her necklace. The man that she doesn’t recognize is sitting in an identical chair about a foot away and dressed almost exactly the same only his dress shirt is a soft shade of emerald green. He’s quite handsome but she thinks that Spike is still the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. Tara is standing between the chairs, a hand resting familiar on each of the men’s shoulders. She looks lovely in a full length long-sleeved velvet gown in a beautiful jewel-toned shade of amber gold. The bodice is tailored and a gently sweeping scoop neckline bares her throat where a lovely cameo hangs from a black velvet ribbon. A black velvet bolero cut vest is laced from just below her breasts to a point over her belly button drawing the eye to the swell of her bosom as they’re cupped and lifted by the velvet. The skirt of the dress falls to sweep the floor in gentle folds and pleats and Tara looks incredibly lovely, both complimented by and complimenting her very handsome escorts. All three look happy and make for quite an impressive sight and it’s impossible not to notice the genuine affection all three seem to have towards each other as they lean towards one another.

Dawn smiles and slips the photo into the envelope with the others and picks up the small plastic case. She opens it and her brow furrows in confusion at the sight of the mini compact disk looking back at her from the protective shell of its case. She closes and case and sets it aside and looks at the slender cardboard-bound booklet recognizing it as a bank passbook. She reads the name of a well-known bank on the front cover and opens it, catching a slender leather card holder as it falls out. She sets the passbook in her lap and gingerly pulls the card partly out of the leather case and sees that it holds a pair of cards. One is a platinum coloured debit card and the other is a matching Visa© platinum credit card. She replaces the cards and slips them into the front pocket of her backpack before zipping it up securely. She opens the passbook and stares. She’s never seen so many zeroes in her life and all in her name. She tucks the passbook back into the envelope before she replaces it in the book and returns the book to her backpack.

She fingers the fine linen paper of the letter for several seconds before taking a deep breath. She unfolds the letter with shaking hands and starts to read.

Dearest Lil Bit,

I’m sorry that I haven’t written to you before now but as you can see from the pictures, I’m doing well. I’m happy and I wish that I could tell you where but forgive me for not being able to but I can’t take the chance that your Sister or Red should find this letter or take it from you. I would have said goodbye when I left but the circumstances of my departure were such that it was impossible. If I know you, and I think I do better than anyone else, I know that you looked at the pictures first so you know that Tara is well and with me. We both had to get away and we saw an opportunity to go together and we took it.

The man that you don’t recognize in one of the pictures is Penn and he’s a Vampire like me and a Childe of Angelus’ bloodline like I am. In fact he’s Angelus’ first-sired which I guess in Vampiric terms that would make him my Uncle but one day soon he will be my Sire if all goes well….”

Dawn reads the two page letter almost a dozen times before she folds it neatly and zips it into a compartment of her backpack. Her hands are shaking with barely suppressed rage. Buffy and Willow have a lot to answer for but she can’t let on that she knows without telling them how she knows. All she can do for Spike and Tara now is to keep the fact that they’ve contacted her secret. Wherever they are, it’s obvious that they’re happy and safe and she’ll do her best to keep her stupid sister and Willow away from them. They’ve earned some peace and happiness.

She spends nearly an hour completing her research notes but she is only partially aware of the passage of time as she mulls over what Spike had to say. She knew that Spike wouldn’t forget her but it’s nice to have proof in the form of the ‘trust fund’ he’s gifted her with to ensure that she’ll always be taken care no matter how many times Buffy screws up their finances. He’s made sure that every Demon in Sunnydale will know that she has a powerful protector looking out for her and her hand finds the pendant of her new necklace without looking. She repeats the phrase he’d written to her in the phonetically in the letter and it sounds like little more then an odd collection of syllables but the language is oddly musical. She has no idea what it means since Spike didn’t translate it but if he says that it, along with her new necklace, will protect her then she believes it and she’ll memorize it as soon as she possibly can.

She repacks her things and leaves. If she goes now she’ll have just enough time to stop at the electronics store in the Galleria mall and buy an MP3 player like Spike told her to so that she can listen to the disk that he sent her. He was a bit mysterious in the letter and all that he’d say about the disk is that he hoped that it would comfort her when she needed it to.

She stops at the Galleria and buys the player and she’s home only an hour after sunset and she walks into the same scene she left over three hours ago. She sighs and adjusts the weight of her backpack and sighs loudly.

“Don’t whine Dawn, I said I’d take you to the Library later.” Buffy snaps, shooting visual daggers at Willow who is shooting them right back. Xander is just alternating which one he’s staring holes through.

Dawn feels the pricking of unshed tears in her eyes and turns away quickly. They didn’t even notice that she’d left and come back! “I’ll just finish my report without the research.” She calls back as she hurries up the stairs. “I have those encyclopaedias Mom gave me, I can use those.”

“Then you shouldn’t have bothered me about a ride to the Library. Go to your room and finish your report and don’t come down before it’s finished!” Buffy yells back at her.

Her only answer is the soft sound of a closing door that gets lost in the cacophony of renewed yelling from downstairs.

Chapter Two

Dawn fires up her computer and it doesn’t take her very long at all to finish her report and returning to the brawl downstairs seems a dark prospect for the evening. She cleans up the clutter of books, notepads, and other scattered school supplies. She takes out the pictures and things that Spike sent her and hides everything but the necklace under her mattress and repacks her backpack. She sets it in her closet on the floor ready for school on Monday. She looks up at the trap door in the ceiling of her closet and then back at her door before darting over and locking it. She drags her desk chair into the small walk-in closet and carefully opens the trap door, pushing it aside and out of the way. She retrieves the letter, passbook, cards, and pictures that Spike sent her and places them in the box of Spike’s things; that she has nestled securely on the intersection of three joists. It’ll be safe there from Buffy and Willow’s prying eyes.

She replaces the trapdoor and wrestles her chair back to the desk and breathes a sigh of relief. She opens her new Player and reads the directions. When she’s sure that she understands the instructions she plugs in the batteries and then the AC adapter that came with it and plugs it into the outlet behind her night table. Since she has an outlet handy, there’s no reason to waste the batteries before she has to, right? She plugs in the headphones and finally loads the disk that Spike sent her and lying down on her bed, she settles the earphones over her ears and hits the play button.

“Auguries of Innocence by William Blake as read by William Faulkner-Bradley.” Dawn starts to smile as her eyes slip closed on the soothing sound of Spike’s voice reciting the classic poetry that he favours.

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage

Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons

Shudders hell thro' all its regions.

A dog starv'd at his master's gate

Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road

Calls to heaven for human blood.

Each outcry of the hunted hare

A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,

A cherubim does cease to sing.

The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight

Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl

Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,

Keeps the human soul from care.

The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,

And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve

Has left the brain that won't believe.

The owl that calls upon the night

Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren

Shall never be belov'd by men.

He who the ox to wrath has mov'd

Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the fly

Shall feel the spider's enmity.

He who torments the chafer's sprite

Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf

Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.

Kill not the moth nor butterfly,

For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war

Shall never pass the polar bar.

The beggar's dog and widow's cat,

Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's song

Poison gets from slander's tongue.

The poison of the snake and newt

Is the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee

Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags

Are toadstools on the miser's bags.

A truth that's told with bad intent

Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;

Man was made for joy and woe;

And when this we rightly know,

Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,

A clothing for the soul divine.

Under every grief and pine

Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;

Every farmer understands.

Every tear from every eye

Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,

And return'd to its own delight.

The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,

Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath

Writes revenge in realms of death.

The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,

Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,

Palsied strikes the summer's sun.

The poor man's farthing is worth more

Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands

Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;

Or, if protected from on high,

Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith

Shall be mock'd in age and death.

He who shall teach the child to doubt

The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith

Triumphs over hell and death.

The child's toys and the old man's reasons

Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,

Shall never know how to reply.

He who replies to words of doubt

Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known

Came from Caesar's laurel crown.

Nought can deform the human race

Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,

To peaceful arts shall envy bow.

A riddle, or the cricket's cry,

Is to doubt a fit reply.

The Emmett’s inch and eagle's mile

Make lame philosophy to smile.

He who doubts from what he sees

Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,

They'd immediately go out.

To be in a passion you good may do,

But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state

Licensed, build that nation's fate.

The harlot's cry from street to street

Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,

Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn

Some to misery are born,

Every morn and every night

Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,

Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie

When we see not thro' the eye,

Which was born in a night to perish in a night,

When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,

To those poor souls who dwell in night;

But does a human form display

To those who dwell in realms of day.

She is lulled into peaceful slumber by the sound of her Vampire-Brother’s voice in her ear. If the fight continues on downstairs she could not be called upon to say as the whiskey husky sound of Spike’s voice surrounds her in a bubble of comfort.

Chapter Three (Two years later)

Angel pulls into the High School parking lot and turns off the engine. He looks around at his friends and sees that they’re all wearing similar expressions of disbelief and discomfort. It’s hard to believe that Buffy’s little sister Dawn is graduating from High School already. It seems like it was only yesterday that she was just a little girl and one who’s made no secret of the fact that she dislikes him. He’s sure that Buffy had more then a little to do with their invitations to this evening’s graduation services.

The others get out, Cordelia checking to make sure that Gunn and Wesley have the gifts that she picked out for Dawn. Nodding satisfied she takes Fred’s hand and leads the way to the auditorium while he gets out more slowly and trails them at some distance.

He sees Buffy waiting at the steps of the auditorium, looking nervous and a little self-conscious. She’s dressed in an unbuttoned white cardigan, over a cropped pink top and a white miniskirt and a pair of dainty white sandals. The look is very youthful and fresh but it seems a little young looking but then Buffy is Dawn’s sister and not her Mother so it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to dress like a parent he supposes. He looks down at his neatly pressed Armani suit and grimaces; he’ll look like her Father rather then her on again- off again boyfriend. It can’t be helped he supposes, he’s old enough to be her Father many times over and that’s a fact that he can’t deny or change. At least he fits in with the rest of his friends, all sporting the ‘office-chic’ that is de rigueur for the corporate life.

Since they accepted the offer to work for Wolfram & Hart, the separation in his life and the one that Buffy is living seems as divided as the Grand Canyon. No one knows the truth of why he manipulated his friends into accepting the offer and if he has anything to say about it, no one ever will.

“Oh you dressed up.” Buffy says, sounding both disappointed and a little angry. “I told you that it was casual Angel! I’m going to look ridiculous sitting next to you.”

“We had to come here straight from the Office to get here in time. I told you that Buffy. You know we can’t run around in jeans and t-shirts at the office, we have a certain appearance to maintain.” He reminds her for what seems like the thousandth time. Buffy’s always made her ambivalent feelings about his job at Wolfram & Hart perfectly clear and it remains a bone of contention between them. They’ve been trying to work on their relationship but it seems with every passing day they’re growing father apart. He’s begun to notice other women are starting to catch his eye. He glances at Cordelia and Fred and then quickly away in embarrassed shame.

“You won’t be sitting with us anyway; you’ll be in the family section up front won’t you?” Cordelia asks in a hurry, seeing the dark cloud of an argument starting to form and trying to avoid a scene she interrupts. “You get ten seats in that section don’t you?”

“No, I’ll be sitting with you. Dawn said she invited some special guests and she wants them to sit there. I think she wanted Xander and Anya to sit there too. I think it may be Dad that she invited but I’m not sure. She’s been very close-mouthed about it. I guess she doesn’t want to make a scene if my Dad actually shows up… for once.” Buffy looks slightly ashamed and she quickly looks away and they all assume that Buffy and Dawn are fighting again and Dawn doesn’t want her to sit in the family section. It’s a bit drastic but they all know that Dawn has had a hellacious time with Buffy, Willow, and everything that has been going on for the last two years or so.

“Your Father is coming? Wow, he didn’t come to our graduation….” Cordy’s voice trails off at a stormy look from Buffy and she realizes she’s said too much. “Well that’s nice.” She says more quietly. “So where are Xander and Willow?” She hopes the change of subject will dig her out of the verbal hole she’s duh but judging from the wince Angel just gave her, she may have only dug herself deeper.

“Willow isn’t here yet and may not come at all since Dawn doesn’t want Amy here and refused to give her a ticket for the ceremony or the reception afterward. Xander and Anya are picking up Giles at the airport and they should be here soon.” Buffy snaps handing each of them two tickets. “The blue one is for the ceremony and the purple is for the dinner reception afterward.”

Just then a taxi drives up and disgorges a harried looking Willow and a smug looking Amy. They’re wearing matching outfits of fuzzy sweaters over crinkly flower print broomstick style skirts and sandals. Willow is wearing green and Amy is in purple, both of them have their shoulder-length hair neatly French braided.

“Oh my God, Dawn you look terrific!” Cordelia exclaims having caught sight of the youngest Summers walking down the steps of the auditorium towards them. She really does look lovely in an ankle length Amethyst slip dress that drifts around her in gossamer layers. A pair of simple ballerina-style slippers dyed in the exact shade of her dress peek from beneath the hem as she holds the folds of the skirt up and to the side slightly as she walks. A royal purple cashmere scarf is draped around her shoulders artfully, the only concession to the chill of the evening wind. Her long dark hair is neatly coiled at her nape and she looks like a lovely and stylish young lady. “Good lord, is that a Lilia Original?! Those cost an arm and a leg and have to be custom-fitted at her shop in the French Quarter.” Cordy is very impressed and slightly envious.

Dawn’s smile is gracious and welcoming as she accepts a hug from Cordy and an excited Fred. “Yes it is; I just love it. It was a gift from….” Dawn trails off and looks toward Willow and Buffy uneasily. “…It was a gift from some very good friends.” She says finally.

“Dad took Dawn on a trip with him for Spring Break and she came back with a lot of new clothes and things.” Buffy can’t hide the bitterness in her voice, obviously attributing Dawn’s good fortune to their Father and feeling the tension building Fred interrupts this time to prevent a scene.

“That must have been fun, where did you go?” She asks shyly.

“My Father’s company has an important client in New Orleans and they gave him a free trip for four people as a bonus for closing a real estate deal ahead of schedule. Naturally my Stepmother and her son went and since there was an extra spot, he asked me to go too. I had a wonderful time, I just fell in love with the City, and it is so beautiful!” Dawn says happily with a dreamy sigh. “My application has been accepted and I’ll be going to Tulane University in New Orleans. I leave this weekend. That should give me time to get settled into my new apartment and at my new job.”

“WHAT?!” Buffy and Willow exclaim and then scowling at each other before noticeably looking away with disdain.

“It’s all been arranged. I’ve got a job offer to work for Lilia Logan as her personal assistant while I go to college. Father’s client happens to own a lot of real estate in and around New Orleans and they’ve offered me a place to live in the French Quarter. They’re also paying my tuition and college expenses. I’m the first recipient of a new college funding program they’re implementing. The only condition is that the recipient attends college in Louisiana and I’ve accepted the scholarship. Dad’s also set up a trust fund for me since I’ll be living so far away. I’ll be leaving this weekend. I’ve made arrangements with some… friends… to help me move my things.” Dawn smiles proudly.

Buffy is furious that Dawn seems to be getting all of the advantages that she lacked, including the attentions of their Father who is more then content to ignore her. Willow is jealous that Dawn is going to go to a University on a full scholarship, an opportunity she gave up when choosing to remain in Sunnydale and help Buffy.

“Who are these ‘friends’ and when were you planning to tell me you’ve made all these plans?!” Buffy demands furiously, leaping towards her little sister with fire in her eyes and a scowl on her face. She angrily shoves at Angel pushing his hands away as he tries to pull her away from Dawn’s personal space. “You’ll be staying and going to college here in Sunnydale and we can use that money for bills!”

“I’ll be going to New Orleans and you can sell the house to pay off the bills. You won’t need all that space anyway. We don’t need it now as it is and I know that Giles has told you that already” Dawn says implacably.

Her heart is set on moving to New Orleans. No one could have been more surprised then she was when her Father’s billionaire client turned out to be Monsieur Penn Ramsay, one of New Orleans’ most prominent and reclusive entrepreneurs. She couldn’t believe it when they were shown into the converted hotel that served as the home and office of Mr. Ramsay and she saw a beaming Spike and Tara waiting there to greet them. Her Father must have thought she was insane when she was laughing and crying as she hugged her long-lost friends. Penn stepped in to explain that they were old friends from Sunnydale and that they were just excited to be reunited again. Hank Summers was very understanding, though she suspects that had more than a little to do with Penn offering his brokerage firm a multi-million dollar contract to handle a portion of their investment portfolio.

Penn was nice enough to entertain her Father, Stepmother, and half-brother; really impressing her family with his charm and business acumen while he was doing it; and giving her a chance to visit with Spike and Tara. They explained that it was Penn’s idea to hire her Father’s firm and since her Father handles new clients, it was a simple matter of engineering a reason for him to visit New Orleans with his family. It was a lovely speech from Tara about her experiences attending college in the city as a young woman and how much she’d grown from the experience that got her Father talking about his youngest daughter. Once that topic was broached Spike’s casual mention of their new scholarship and a desire to help young people from less fortunate circumstances and within the month her Father arranged for her to join them on their trip back to New Orleans. It was a little manipulative and a bit underhanded and utterly brilliant! They couldn’t safely reveal their location to her so they used a very legitimate business trip that her Father was taking as the perfect cover to bring her to them instead.

They asked her how things were going in Sunnydale and she had to be honest and by the end of her story Spike was so angry that he had to excuse himself for a while. Penn followed at a gesture from Tara as escorted her back to her Father and took over the entertainment duties. When they returned it was with their good friend Lilia Logan, who just ‘happened’ to be looking for a personal assistant that could do some part time work for her. Within an hour everything was set up and her move to New Orleans not only supported by her Father but he was also ‘convinced’ to set up a modest trust fund for her. Of course the trust fund Spike and Tara had already set up for her was more then sufficient to take care of her needs even if she never worked a day in her life.

They offered to find her an apartment or to renovate one the former presidential suites on the penthouse floor for her use. Having just found Tara and Spike again she chose the suite and spent many an hour with Tara, Lilia, and a wonderful older woman named Ravali choosing the décor for her new home. Tara promised to have it ready for her before she arrived for the summer term at Tulane University. It was located fairly close to the French Quarter where she’d be living and its programs widely varied but considered very progressive and at the cutting edge of upper education. Public transportation is widely available in the area when she didn’t choose to be chauffeured by a member of the Order or one of their functionaries.

By the end of their visit her Father was convinced that she would be cared for as if she were their own daughter by Penn, Spike, and Tara and one hundred percent in support of her moving. Truthfully he seemed glad that the opportunity to separate Dawn from Buffy without causing any embarrassing legalities had been presented. By the time they left for California her Father had managed to convince himself that it was all his idea and his doing!

“…Doing but you aren’t getting away with it Dawn. We’ll discuss this later.” Buffy snaps yanking her arm out of Angel’s hold.

“I rather think that you won’t be discussing anything Buffy.” A frosty English-accented voice snaps coolly from behind them and they turn to see Giles climbing the steps with Xander and Anya following behind him and looking vaguely embarrassed.

It’s only then that everyone notices that they’ve become the center of attention for everyone milling about on the steps or the landings and they all look self-conscious.

“Giles, you’re here!” Dawn cries happily and skips down the steps and throws her arms around the flustered older man but the smile she gets from him is a genuine one. “How was your flight?”

“Well I think they left part of their landing gear behind when we landed but landed we did so I’ll have to give that a good show.” Giles says dryly. He lowers his voice to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Giles. I’m used to her getting emotional over the littlest things anymore and she didn’t know that I’m moving away to college next week til just a few minutes ago.” She whispers back, clinging to Giles. “I have a confession to make Giles.” She takes a deep breath and confesses in a rush, “IknowwhereSpikeandTarahavebeenfortwoyearsandImettheminNewOrleansduringmydad’sbusinesstripandthey’recomingtomygraduationceremonyandreceptiontonight.”

Giles blinks his eyes owlishly and grows pale not sure that he’s heard her right. “Could you maybe say that more slowly?” He whispers back shaking his head as though to settle some loose bits running around in there.

Dawn responds by taking his hand and pulling him up the steps and away from the others until she thinks that they’ve gone far enough away that Angel or Buffy can’t overhear their conversation.

“I said that I’ve known where Spike and Tara have been, well not exactly where til recently but I’ve been talking to them regularly for the past two and a half years or so give or take a month. I asked them to come tonight and they both promised that they’d be here and Spike never breaks a promise.” She whispers quietly, still not sure if Angel can hear them from here.

“Good Lord, does anyone else know?” Giles asks in a low whisper as he pulls off his glasses and cleans the already pristine lens nervously.

“I told Anya earlier this afternoon and she told Xander and at first he wasn’t happy about it but I think that was habit more then how he really feels. After he calmed down a bit and I swore that Spike wasn’t coming back here for Buffy or to cause trouble, he actually seemed glad that he’d be coming back and bringing Tara with him.” She admits in a sounding relieved. “I had to tell them and you because I want you to sit with them in the family section. I haven’t gotten along with Buffy or Willow since Spike and Tara left and I’m not going to be a hypocrite and play happy family because it’s my graduation.”

“Well… yes of course… it’d be an honour Dawn but it is Buffy’s place or your Father’s….”

“Giles, I don’t have a Father… I’m a KEY … remember? All I have, all any of us has are the memories implanted by a bunch of monks to manipulate us all into believing something that wasn’t true. I know, I know, Joyce loved me and maybe in a way Buffy does too but I’m not her sister, I’m just one more burden to her. She’s been hell to live with Giles and it’s her fault that Spike and ultimately Tara left me. Tara was almost like a Mom to me and Spike… Spike is like my brother, an older very protective one. I won’t forgive her for what she did then Giles and please don’t ask me to do it now.”

“You know what happened to make them leave don’t you?” Giles realizes and the bleak expression on Dawn’s face only confirms what he already knew.

“Yes, I know, but you don’t want to know everything she did Giles, trust me on that. You’ll never be able to look at her the same way if you knew. There are days that I can barely stand to look at her knowing what she did.” Dawn admits in a whisper so low that he can barely hear her.

“Dawn she’s a Slayer, my Slayer, and if she’s done something… I need to know about it.” Giles says earnestly. He’s always realized that whatever it is that had happened to Spike must have been horrible if he finally left. A man could say a lot of things about Spike but his loyalty to the one that he believes he loves is as resolute as the strongest mountain. Spike’s built for being in love, not for falling out of it and it’s lead to a unique if somewhat amazing code of ethics that is all but unheard of in Demons.

Dawn covers her eyes with her hands and Giles wraps his arms around her and pulls her close as the words wrench and wiggle their way from between her lips at first in a forced trickle and then in a torrent as she relays the whole ugly story for Giles.

Giles is trembling by the time the words dry up and Dawn is left shaking and snuffling against the fine mohair of his sweater, limp in the wake of the emotional release. “I’m sure that Spike wanted you to believe that Dawn… and from his point of view that was probably what happened….”

“You don’t understand Giles.” Dawn sniffs again and gratefully accepts the handkerchief Giles holds out for her and she carefully dabs at her eyes and blows her nose so that she doesn’t muss her makeup. “Spike has never said anything negative about Buffy to me, even after everything she did… to him. All he told me in his first letter is that he’d finally gotten Buffy’s message that there’d never be anything between them so that he’d chosen to leave. It was Tara who told me what really happened in that alley not Spike. If Penn hadn’t been here looking for Spike, he’d have still been there when the sun rose Giles. For all Buffy knew he did dust in that alley and she’s never even owned up to having seen him at all that night. Tara found Spike but only after Penn was already trying to help him. Penn told her that he was taking Spike home with him to care for him and Tara decided to go with them. She’s still with them and tonight they’re coming back. I expect Penn will come with them, he never lets Spike out of his sight, I think he likes him a lot.”

“Who is Penn?” Giles asks and then his brow furrows because that name nibbles at his memory but he can’t quite recall the context that would allow him to identify where or how he heard the name. ‘You’ve actually seen them haven’t you?” Giles breathes in surprise.

“Yes but I’m sorry Giles I won’t tell you exactly where they are. I met them on a business trip that my Father took to New Orleans and that’s all that I can say about it, so please don’t ask me for anything more specific. I met them all, Penn, the Twins, Ravali and Jacob… oh they were all so nice and not at all like the other Vampires I‘ve seen. They adore Spike, Giles! You should see it; they treat him like he’s the Crowned Prince or something. He still has the chip but they don’t hate him or abuse him because of it, they protect him and look after him. He’s so different now Giles and Buffy can be blamed for a lot of that. He’s so still and quiet but there’s something about him that just…. Well you’ll see when he gets here, it’s hard to explain.” Dawn trails off.

Giles listens in growing alarm but then his eyes fly out to goggle in amazement. “Bloody hell, I can’t believe that I actually forgot! Penn, the Engraver, the first Vampire ever Sired by Angelus but the histories and Diaries list him as destroyed over a century ago. You say he still exists and that he came here to help Spike?” He inhales sharply and makes several aborted attempts to speak.

Dawn shifts restlessly; not sure what she can do to help him and casts nervous glances back towards the others. It’s then that he notices the deep rich lustre of real gold gleaming around her neck, He watches in silent observation as her movements cause the chain and its pendant to slip from the concealing drape of her neckline and scarf. His eyes widen as he realizes that he’s staring at the Gryphon symbol of the Aurelius Order, the sacred coat of arms that is only gifted to the most precious of their number and that marks them as persons of very high renown.

“Where….” Giles clears his throat several times. “Where did you get this Dawn?” He reaches out with a reverent hand and runs his thumb over the raised symbol and feeling something on the back, he flips it over and stares with his mouth open. The railroad spike is he knows the personal mark of William the Bloody. He doesn’t know who the Cross or the Thorny stemmed-Rose could represent. He realizes the significance of what he’s seeing in that moment. Dawn may well be the single most treasured and well-protected young woman on the planet right now.

“It’s beautiful isn’t? Spike sent it to me. He made me memorize a phrase in another language and if I’m ever attacked by a Vampire I’m supposed to show them the necklace and repeat it.” Dawn brushes her hand over the pendant and smiles fondly. “I’ve never had to say it though; I haven’t been bothered by so much as a single Vampire in years.”

Giles clears his throat again. “Could you say it for me now by any chance?” Dawn smiles and nods and does just that. He stares at her in amazement as the young woman flawlessly speaks a phrase in the oldest known Vampiric dialect. “Bloody hell, that’s just astounding!” He breathes in awe.

“Can you tell me what it means Giles? I asked Spike but he just smiled at me and said that it was just something to keep me safe.”

“Well… he’s right, it would. I’m paraphrasing here a bit but it basically says something like this. ‘The bearer of this pendant is a daughter of high renown and protectorate of the Aurelius Order. It is so noted by the word of Penn, Master of Aurelius, William, Consort of Aurelius, and Tara, Lady-Witch of Aurelius.’ You’ve been adopted basically into their Order and any Vampire that so much as bruises you will be answerable to them; Penn, Spike, and Tara; and I highly doubt that there is a Vampire anywhere that would cross not only one but two Master Vampires and a Witch with the might of one of the most ancient Order behind them. That’s why you haven’t been attacked by a Vampire since you’ve had it; none of them are that stupid. I imagine there are few Demons powerful or stupid enough of any species to chance their wrath. He’s not even here and Spike found a way to protect you, astonishing.”

“It’s not really you know, astonishing I mean. Buffy made him promise that he’d always look after me and protect me and he swore that he would until the end of the world. Spike always keeps his promises Giles.” Dawn’s voice has a slight tone of censure and he drops his eyes knowing that he deserves the chiding comment. All of them, except Dawn, Anya, and of course Tara, have seriously underestimated Spike and the strength they could have had on their side had they treated him better.

Giles repeats the phrase to himself once more. ‘The bearer of this pendant is a daughter of high renown and protectorate of the Aurelius Order. It is so noted by the word of Penn, Master of Aurelius, William, Consort of Aurelius, and Tara, Lady-Witch of Aurelius.’ His eyes widen and his gaze shoots to linger on Angel for a moment before he looks away, a truly wicked smile curving his lips upward.

“Dawn, think carefully for a moment. You say that you actually met Penn and several other Vampires?” Dawn nods. “Do you remember how the others addressed Penn, Spike, and Tara when they spoke to them or about them?”

“Well it depends on who was talking Giles. Tara calls Penn by his name and she calls Spike by his name, though she called him William when we were at dinner with my Dad and his family. The Twins usually call him Milord or occasionally Master. Ravali calls him either by name or Milord. As I recall no one else uses Penn’s name, they all called him Milord occasionally Master. Almost all of them address Spike as Milord or Master William. Ravali calls him the ‘Young Master’ or Milord. Penn calls him Wil or occasionally he calls him Childe and there’s something else that he called him but it was in another language and I don’t think that I can repeat it. Jacob Chenault usually calls Spike William or Milord if mixed company is around. The Twins call him either Milord or William and everyone else calls him Milord or Master William. They all call Tara Milady or Mistress except for Penn, Spike, and Jacob who use her name freely. Ravali, Penn, and Spike sometimes call her Witchling as a nickname.”

“J… j… Jacob Chenault?” Giles stammers in shock.

“Yes, he’s a very nice man. He’s Ravali’s Mate or husband I guess we’d call him? Tara is very fond of him and he’s taught her a lot about magic and using it safely.”

“He’s teaching Tara?!” Giles is both stunned and delighted. Jacob Chenault is a name renowned in the magic community and his ethical use of magic and the sheer strength of his talent is known by all.

“Yes for over two years now. He told me that he’s very impressed with Tara’s gifts and something he called ‘balance’ and said she’s one of the strongest natural ‘white’ witches that he’s ever met. I invited him and Ravali but he rarely leaves New Orleans so I don’t know if he’s coming or not. Ravali probably will though.”

“Ravali Simran?” Dawn nods and Giles is just amazed. These names are well known to him from his study of the Watchers Diaries and the various histories he’s read through the years but he never would have thought to hear them in these circumstances.

“She’s the Steward of the Aurelius Order and she’s very, very, old Spike told me.” Dawn confides.

“Spike is right. This will certainly be an interesting night Dawn.” Giles pulls off his glasses and cleans the pristine lenses before replacing the glasses, an amused expression on his face.

“What do you mean Giles?” Dawn is confused by the strange smile on Giles’ face.

“Penn is the first Vampire Angelus sired, his first-born of a sort and he’s not much younger then Angelus himself which makes him very old and powerful. From what you’ve said it seems that the Aurelius Order has replaced Angelus as the Master of the Order in favour of Penn. I don’t think that Angel is aware of that fact and he’s certainly not aware that Penn came to Sunnydale for Spike.” Giles glances at Angel who is still trying to calm down Buffy and he almost snickers as he wonders who is going to calm them both down when the guests Dawn invited arrive.

“Do you remember that phrase Spike told you to memorize and that I translated for you?” Dawn nods. “Spike identified himself as the Consort of Aurelius but do you understand what that means?”

“If you mean do I know that Penn is in love with Spike then yes I do know that and I know that Spike loves him too. They told me how they felt and what it meant when they made their offer. They haven’t kept anything from Giles. Tara talked to me too and I thought about it for almost a week before I accepted their offer. I’ll be living in a beautiful city that I love, I’ll be going to Tulane University on a full scholarship provided by Spike and Penn and they’ve even arranged a terrific job for me. I’ll be working for Lilia Logan and it’s a wonderful opportunity. I saw a lot of things while I was there Giles and I’ve seen things differently then you and Buffy have always told me that they were.”

“Perhaps you should tell me everything Dawn.” Giles prompts her and for the next few minutes he listens to her recounting the things that she’d seen on her Father’s business trip. Before he can comment the sound of a large motor gets his attention and a large motor home pulls up at the lower curve of the drive followed by a limo that pulls up behind it.

Before the limo has even pulled to a complete stop Angel is loping down the stairs towards it, his face rippling from Demon and back. The opening of the motor home’s door draws his eye and the sight of the gracefully petite Sari draped woman has him stumbling to a stop.

“Ravali…?” He staggers backward shaking his head an expression of utter disbelief on his face.

The deceptively fragile looking Hindi woman gives him a cool glance and gestures to the two attractive men who exited the motor home after her. The dark-haired Twins move off in unison towards the limo while several more people have exited the motor home and arrayed themselves in a line to either side of the pretty Hindi lady. A pair of attractive women both dressed in neatly tailored cocktail dresses and trench coats, one with dark brown hair and the other with dark auburn, step up into place. A distinguished looking middle aged gentleman in a three pieced suit and a tailored evening coat steps up behind the trio and cups the shoulders of the Hindi woman.

Dawn claps and yells happily blasting past everyone, easily evading Angel as he tries to grab her and pull her behind him.

“Oh you came, I’m so happy!” Dawn leaps and the quartet laughingly sweeps her into a group hug while also stopping her headlong flight down the stairs.

Angel stares as Dawn is welcomed with obvious affection by the surprising assemblage and all the more shocked by their clearly protective attitude as they shuffle position to surround Dawn. He feels the heavy gaze of the auburn-haired woman and he pales at the weight of the sheer hatred in her eyes and can’t hold her gaze and looks away.

A happy squeal from Dawn draws all their eyes and she skips over to the twins and laughs as they pick her up off her feet in a tandem and noticeably tender bear hug. They set her down gently and urge her backward as one of them leans down and opens the rear door of the limo.

The crowd takes several steps forward in anticipation as though drawn by invisible strings.

The man that gracefully alights from the back of the limo is a sight to behold in his tailored Italian-cut black silk suit. A long trailing scarf and handkerchief of red silk are the only spots of colour in his tasteful and elegant attire. His thick hair is that indeterminate shade of darkness that lies somewhere between dark brown and black. The thick mane of hair is expertly styled in short layers on the top and the sides that taper back to slightly longer waves that curl under slightly against his nape in a short but fashionable cut. His facial features are just a little too strong to be considered typically handsome but that he is attractive is a fact that couldn’t be denied. His eyes are a light shade that seems to vary between silver and dark grey as they sweep over them dismissingly only to warm noticeably as they land on a beaming Dawn who skips over to give him a hug. He smiles as she darts passed him and into the limo with a chorus of happy squeals.

Buffy stares at the stranger and wonders who he could be and who could be in the limo that has Dawn so excited. It’s obvious that Dawn knows him but where her little sister could have met such an obviously wealthy and powerful man is beyond her. She looks at the man and her brow furrows as her stomach makes nervous flip-flops in her belly. He is attractive but she has seen men that were much more so. Her gaze flickers to Angel and then back to the man. She finds her eyes drawn to the dark haired stranger that is standing there like he owns the very air they’re breathing. She takes an unconscious step forward only to find her progress halted by Angel who pulls her back until she is standing behind him again. She looks at him, her mouth opening to argue but the words die unspoken as she sees that his attention is firmly fixed on the newest arrival. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls in displeasure.

“Penn….” Angel breaths raggedly, his eyes locked on the Childe he hasn’t seen in over a century. He starts forward but his progress is abruptly impeded by one of the Twins who plants himself firmly in his path. He scowls at him and motions for him to move aside with an imperious motion of his hand and his brow furrows as the younger Vampire merely smiles and makes no move to obey. He starts to move around him only to find that his path is blocked once more and he reluctantly backs up a few steps.

Satisfied that Angel has gotten the point Erick drops back to stand with his Sire/Brother; nodding in response to a questioning glance from Penn; who smiles faintly and nods back.

Penn catches Ravali’s eye and makes a silent gesture and she nods, saying something to her companions quietly and they’ve soon moved to array themselves like a human wall along the bottom-most step. Once they’re all in place they move forward in unison slowly climbing the stairs and one by one Angel and the rest of the assemblage back up keeping pace with their advance until they’re on the landing.

Giles works his way through the others and looks down at the petite woman standing at the center of the wall of bodies. “My name is Rupert Giles….” He starts to say.

“We are aware of who you are Watcher.” Ravali interjects smoothly, sounding distinctly unimpressed. She smiles lovingly at her Mate and gestures towards Giles and the others. “Le charme si vous, Mari?” She asks with a smile.

“Naturellement épouse aimée.” Jacob leans over and kisses her shoulder with a gentle smile as he murmurs quietly in French.

He steps forward and raises his arms and makes an elaborate gesture and his eyes begin to glow with a pulsing white light that soon becomes blinding and forces all but Angel to look away. “By my will, you be so bound! Let no lie sound, or harm be done, from moonlight’s grace til rising sun! By this spell be so enchained, be magic, be sword, be fang, or be blade, all by my spell be so constrained!” The energy explodes outward washing over all of them and vanishes as swiftly as it appeared as Jacob staggers faintly before Ravali catches hold of his arm and steadies him.

After a moment he regains his strength and stands proudly, nodding at his concerned Mate to let her know that he’s alright. “I am fine, My Love, it is wearisome to bind Darkling and Chaos magic but it is done.” He says proudly. “They cannot harm any of us, use their magic, or lie as long as the spell is active.”

Ravali smiles and gestures to Genevra and Lilia; who separate and step around the silently staring Sunnydale and LA contingents and walk inside talking quietly. Ravali and Jacob turn and walk gracefully down the steps.

“Giles, what’s going on and what was with the Mr. Wizard bit there?” Xander complains, ignoring Anya’s efforts as she tries to shush him.

“It was a protective spell Xander. It binds us from doing any harm to anyone, lying or using magic until sunrise tomorrow.” Giles glances at Angel then Buffy and a disappointed look crosses his face. “It was, I believe, a preventative measure. They seem to have prepared for this rather well.”

“Who are they Giles? What’s going on?” Willow snaps. “Who are these people?!”

“My Childe Penn has brought the Aurelius Order to Sunnydale.” Angel says flatly, his eyes locked on Penn who is smiling patiently.

“They’re people that you shouldn’t be insulting.” Giles growls startling Willow. “In case it escaped your notices that spell wasn’t cast just to make a showy entrance.”

“It was a simple binding spell; I can snap it like that!” Willow snaps her fingers and sniffs with disdain.

“You think that was a simple binding spell?” Giles asks incredulously. “You do realize that the spell wasn’t cast on only we few don’t you? It’s been cast on the TOWN.”

“That’s impossible; no one could cast a spell that large without drawing power!” Amy denies with a sneer.

“Jacob Chenault can.” Giles growls angrily. Willow and Amy pale and take several instinctive steps back before clinging to each other. “I don’t know why the most powerful White Warlock on the planet is helping Vampires but he is and you would all be wise to learn some manners while they’re here.”

“They’re Demons; we should stake them all and anyone helping them.” Buffy mutters bitterly, a look of disgust on her face that shocks all of them. She doesn’t see the hurt look that Angel shoots at her or the angry looks Cordelia, Fred, and Wes send her way.

“Let’s go find our seats.” Cordelia mutters, taking Fred’s hand and towing the upset young woman after her, who in turn grabs Wes’s sleeve, who then grabs Gunn by the wrist and the quartet looks like a train engine and its cars as they walk inside.

Xander looks at Anya with a sad look of resignation and then sends a disappointed glance towards Buffy before he holds his hand out to his wife. Anya smiles lovingly as she takes his hand and sweeps her long velvet skirt to the side as they start down the steps towards the limo. Giles shakes his head silently and follows and after a moment Angel follows him down the steps ignoring Buffy’s clumsy attempts to apologize.

Amy grabs Willow’s hands and pulls her after her down the steps eager to make up for their less than good impression on Jacob Chenault. It could be beneficial to them both to cultivate such a powerful and influential contact.

Having been abandoned to stand alone on the landing Buffy finally reluctantly follows Willow and Amy down the stairs and toward the limo.

Chapter Four

Penn watches the debacle taking place on the landing, the loud voices easily carrying the conversation to his sensitive ears and shakes his head in amazement. The soft sound of nervously stirring silk and leather draws his eyes to the shadowed interior of the limo and he makes a low purring sound deep in his chest. He smiles after a moment as the comforting purr is echoed and the stirring settles.

“There is no danger here, My Precious. Jacob’s spell will protect us while we’re here and we’ll be home before you know it and this will all be behind us.” He says quietly, stepping forward to block the open door of the limo with his body. A gentle smile curves his lips as he feels the ghost of a caress sliding up his back and he reaches back with his hand and another hand is soon laced with his. He feels the squeeze of support and he’s relaxed and confident as he awaits his Once-Sire.

A gentle tap on the small of his back has him stepping aside momentarily as Dawn slips passed him to bounce over to Ravali and Jacob, chattering happily and hugging them both.

Penn smiles as Ravali and Jacob close ranks around Dawn making sure that she is protected between them and the Twins step in unison to the head of the group and plant their feet. Angel and the Sunnydale alumni are forced to stop several feet from the limo by the intimidating presence of the Twin Master Vampires. Their once fractured and floundering Order has truly started to pull together and they are once more the powerful and united front that made the Vampiric Orders such formidable foes in times past.

Angel glares at the impudent younger Vampires but neither Twin gives any ground, only crossing their arms over their chests and watching him silently. He decides to ignore their disrespect and turns his attention to Penn. “Why are you here Penn? I didn’t send for the Order and we have no business here.”

“The Aurelius Order does not move to your whims Angel.” Aaron informs him coolly.

Angel is taken aback by the obvious dislike and disrespect being directed at him. He looks at Ravali and he flinches as she pointedly looks away to direct a fond glance towards Penn.

“Milord, the Ceremony is due to begin within the hour and we should escort the young mistress inside to her companions so that she may prepare and we can take our seats.” Ravali reminds Penn gently, not hiding a faint smirk of pleasure as Angel flinches.

“Thank you Ravali. Erick, please escort Dawn inside and make sure she has everything she needs.” Penn asks with a smile at the picture of the blushing young woman who looks flustered as Erick bows gallantly and holds out his elbow.

“Yes, Milord, shall we depart for yon Hall fair maiden?” Erick says with a flourish and escorts the proudly smiling Dawn up the stairs and towards the auditorium hall.

“What are you doing with Dawn, Penn? What business is she of yours?” Angel demands.

“She is the concern of Aurelius because she is a matter of concern for my Consort, Angel. That is all that you need to know.” Penn says in a cold tone. He turns a slender hand clasped in his. “Come, Love, we have a ceremony and a dinner to attend.” Penn steps back pulling gently and assisting someone from the back of the limo.

The woman steps out gracefully smiling at Penn with obvious affection. Her feet are protected by dainty high-heeled sandals held on by a clever collection of thin black velvet straps cleverly threaded through golden hoops and buckles. The dress she is wearing is lovely; the stretch velvet fabric is poured like liquid over her form, accentuating her willowy and graceful lines and falling in a long sweep to her ankles. The bodice is tailored precisely and clings tastefully to an impressively displayed cleavage that manages to be both sensual and mature, not revealing as much as it conceals. They don’t have a chance to get a good look at her face as she pivots to look back towards the limo. The deep royal purple colour deepens to almost black in places as she moves turning her back to them as she reaches inside to accept something someone inside hands to her. They can see that the gown has a dramatic keyhole back that closes with a lovely golden charm and leaves most of her back bare. The dress is an example of fashion at its best, not too revealing with classical styling and meant to show off the woman wearing it. The woman is wearing the dress, not the dress wearing the woman.

Penn reaches around the elegantly gowned woman with a smile and shakes out a large royal purple silk-lined black velvet shawl. He holds it up for her as her skilful hands soon have it arranged and wrapped to her satisfaction. She drapes a length of the rich fabric over her head and tucks the end around to effectively cover the areas bared by the fabric of her dress. She turns around slowly to face them and Aaron is stepping forward with his hand extended toward her as they register that it’s Tara!

“Tara… baby!” Willow darts forward ignoring the furious look on Amy’s face but Aaron and Tara casually side step the headlong rush in a graceful sweep to the side.

The pair continues to the stairs without missing a step, Aaron’s manner towards Tara is obviously one of fondness and protective regard. He stops at the base of the stairs and motions to a pair of men that they hadn’t noticed before, both attired in neatly pressed evening suits. Each of the men offers their elbow and Tara accepts with a graceful nod of her head as she is escorted up the stairs between them, each man bracing a hand protectively against the small of her back.

Aaron returns to stand beside Penn as their eyes turn to the pair now back by the limo. Penn kneels and holds his hand inside the limo and a smile, it can only be called loving by everyone watching, transforms his face into one of joyful delight and pride.

“Shall we Childe?” His voice is soft but authoritative, the subtle edge softened by love and caring. A graceful hand emerges from the darkness and the sudden inhalation of the air could have drained a hot air balloon as the beauty steps out of the limo.

Angel stares at Spike as Penn assists him out of the vehicle and wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him against his side as Aaron reaches passed them to close the door.

His hair is still the unnatural shade of white-blond that for some strange reason, he’s come to appreciate as it emphasizes the eldritch wonder of his marvellous eyes that never seem to be the same shade of blue twice in a row. His previously harsh haircut and merciless gelling has given way to soft waves and curls that frame his neck and shoulders and looks like the rich mane that he remembers from Spike’s brief fledgling years.

He is wearing a pair of low heeled black suede boots in a more fashionable design then the heavy chunkier boots he preferred before. A midnight blue silk dress shirt peeks from beneath the lacings of the black suede waistcoat. The classical styled coat flows smoothly over his lithely muscled form and sweeps in a slight flare to brush around his knees and merging neatly with the matching black suede pants.

A classic gold watch chain and fob are tucked neatly into the pocket designed specifically for them. The glint of gold sparkles from his left ear lobe and the upper curve of his ear in the form of simple stud piercings, the darkly rich patina on the pieces speaking of their antique origins. A slender Black Gold collar, inset with oval-cut Sapphires of the darkest blue, hugs his throat and dips to a low vee in front. A Gryphon charm fashioned expertly of the same Black Hills Gold that makes up the collar hangs from the lowest point of the vee to rest against his collarbone. Rather then the single ‘A’ in it’s talons that makes up the Aurelius Order’s coat of arms the charm is subtly different. The talons have been angled and one holds a small ‘A’ while the other holds what looks like a small Celtic cross, both fashioned out of the same Sapphires that decorate the collar.

The look is both classically old fashioned in design yet fresh and modern in the detailing, tailoring, and fabrics. It isn’t a look that just anyone could carry off without looking foppish but the style only enhances Spike’s unusual blend of masculinity, beauty, sensuality, and danger. His striking appearance is the perfect foil for Penn’s classically elegant features, powerful presence, and old-world manners.

Angel’s eyes narrow as his nose twitches as the scent of the pair reaches his sensitive nose and a low growl starts in his chest. His boys have been playing without Daddy.

Penn’s smile becomes a grin as he motions to Aaron, who taps the roof of the limo. It immediately starts up as the minion Chauffeur pulls out into the flow of cars coming and going, with practiced skill. The Motor home pulls out after it, silently following the departing limo. Penn drops his arm from around William’s shoulders and holds out his hand and he bows low and elegantly before rising with William’s hand held firmly in his. “Come beloved or your Lil Bit will graduate without us being there to witness it and we will have travelled to this….” Penn runs his eyes over his surroundings and the people that choose to call it home and he looks less then impressed. “…Place, for nothing.”

Giles watches somewhat amazed as Spike nods his head elegantly, allowing himself to be guided forward towards the stairs without uttering a single protest. He pauses only once as he passes Anya and Xander, leaning down to kiss her cheek and shake the bemused Xander’s hand before nodding to Penn and allowing himself to be lead forward once more.

“I’ll say this once and it would behove you not to make me repeat it again.” Aaron’s chilly voice grabs their attention but Angel and Buffy still have their eyes locked on the elegant couple walking up the stairs. “Penn is the Master of the Aurelius Order and Master William stands as his Childe and Consort. If you don’t understand what that means then I can see why Slayers die so young typically. Mistress Tara is the Lady-Witch of the Aurelius Order, Apprentice to Jacob Chenault and Protectorate of Aurelius by order of our Masters. The Masters and Mistress will be leaving after the festivities; Master Penn will not subject them to a stay in this cursed town for any longer then necessary. If you behave yourselves then there will be no need for further hostilities but I assure you, we who serve Aurelius will defend our own by any means necessary. Milord Penn has declared that you are not to be harmed unless it is unavoidable so I suggest you do whatever you must to make sure that is unavoidable.” Aaron’s distrust and dislike for them is all too clearly ringing in his voice and many of them look uncomfortable.

His eyes warm noticeably as they pass over Anya and Xander and though they chill slightly as they land on Giles standing next to them his voice is polite. “Mr. and Mrs. Harris, Mr. Giles, if you will accompany me, I will escort you to your seats for the evening. You will I believe be sitting with the Masters and Mistress Tara for the graduation ceremony? I will be joining you also as I am charged with the protection of Master William.” He bows and gestures toward the stairs with a wave of his arm.

“Would it be rude to ask who you are, Sir?” Giles asks politely.

“Who cares if it’s rude or not Giles, who are you?” Anya asks bluntly.

Aaron chuckles, delighted by the candour of the question. “I am Aaron Logan, Aurelius Master out of Juliet, out of Darla. It is my honour to serve the Masters of the Order as their Master-At-Arms. It is my responsibility to see to the safety of the Master, his, heir, and their Protectorates as well as the general security issues of the Aurelius Order.” Aaron introduces himself. “Master William is my special charge and you need have no fear of me. He has told me many stories about his time… here… and he has never spoken of you with anything less than kindness Anyanka. In truth I think he is rather fond of you. He was pleased to hear that you and the… ‘Whelp’… I believe he said, had worked out your differences and gotten married. He arranged for a gift to be delivered I believe when the news reached us.” Aaron adds.

“That’s who sent the money that we bought the house with!” Xander exclaims in amazement. “Remember that envelope Anya, the one that didn’t have a return address and wasn’t signed?”

“Oh yes that was a lovely card and the poem was really beautiful. All it had inside was that nice big, fat check made out to us. The card said that we should use it to buy a house with a lot of windows. We thought it was a strange request but that the gift was very generous.” Anya agrees. “We love our house.” Anya adds happily.

Xander looks up the stairs where they can see Spike is waiting, held securely against the side of his protective companion. He opens and closes the hand he’d stopped to shake, it’s tingling faintly and it’s not an unpleasant feeling. “What happened to him?” He hears himself asking.

Aaron’s green eyes ice over as he looks at Buffy and she flinches but then she squares her shoulders and stares back arrogantly. “Why don’t you tell them what you did to William Slayer?” He asks quietly. “Not feeling like having a chat I see.” He comments as Buffy remains stubbornly silent. “Why don’t we just tell them how you left him the last time shall we?” His voice hardens and Buffy starts to look frightened. “And you still have nothing to say; that’s rather strange from the stories I’ve heard about Sunnydale’s chatty little Slayer. Maybe they would like to hear about how it took William four months until he was healed enough to be able to talk and almost eleven months for all the bruises to fade? Maybe they’d like to hear about the nightmares that wake him up even still?” Aaron takes several steps closer and leans down until barely six inches separate them. “That was a fine thank you that you gave him Slayer. The next time you’re going to do something stupid like turning yourself in for a murder you didn’t commit, please feel free to do it; preferably as soon as possible. I’d love nothing more then to be in the gallery when they flip the switch. It would have been a kinder fate then the beating you gave William. Did it make you feel better to leave him there, wounded and vulnerable on the ground in that alley Slayer?” Aaron straightens to his full height and looks down at the now crying Slayer. “You could cry an ocean and it will never be enough to wash the guilt of what you’ve done away. We’re Demons that’s true but you… Slayer… you’re a Monster.”

“Don’t… don’t you talk to her like that, you’re lying! You’re a big… handsome… lying guy!” Willow darts forward to defend Buffy but she falls back as she notices the black looks being aimed at her by Giles, Angel and Anya. She looks at Xander hoping for his support but the expression on his face is one of disappointed sadness and he looks away from Buffy and tightens his grip on Anya’s hand. She looks at Amy but the blond is looking distinctly bored with the whole proceedings and she knows there’s going to be no help from that direction either.

Aaron walks away and after a sad glance at Buffy, Xander follows him, Anya wrapping her arms around his bicep and clinging to her husband, walks with him.

“Deny it Buffy, please tell me it’s not true. You didn’t do that to Spike, he did something to you right?” Angel begs earnestly. “Buffy tell me it’s a lie!”

“She can’t do that Angel; Jacob’s spell won’t let her lie.” Giles states in a too-quiet voice as he turns and follows Xander and Anya without saying a word to Buffy. Angel sighs sadly and follows shaking off Buffy’s desperate clutch on his arm and ignoring her expression silently begging him to understand and forgive her.

“Oh Buffy….” Willow sighs sadly. She opens her arms and Buffy rushes to her and the old friends embrace and cry for old mistakes that have come home to roost. Neither notices Amy shooting them a dark look and wandering off into the night away from the school and into the darkness. Willow waits til Buffy’s cried herself out and using her shawl she dries her tears and gently turns them toward the auditorium Hall.

Chapter Five

Xander guides Anya down the aisle, following Spike, walking between his companions Penn and Aaron, his hand held securely by Penn. Dawn waves at them from one of the rows and they file past her and towards the row, each of them stopping to kiss her cheek or give her a hug as they pass to gather at the head of the row.

Aaron notes the layout and his keen eyes quickly identify and memorize the emergency exits and the various approaches to their row and he puts his hand on William’s shoulder and silently stops them in place. He motions to the quietly waiting Ian who nods and walks the row checking each seat thoroughly before stationing himself at the end of the row, leaning on the wall beside the emergency exit. He motions again and Grady starts down the row and checks the floor and seats ahead and behind as he walks through the row and then back again, nodding silently as he steps clear of the row. Erick slips down the row to the last chair as Aaron taps Giles’ shoulder sending him after him. He nods to Anya who starts down the row with Xander following her. He smiles at Wil and nods and he starts down the row hand in hand with Penn. Wil sits next to Xander and Penn takes the chair next to him, their hands reaching out and threading their fingers together and resting them on the arm rest between them. Tara starts down the row after Penn and Ravali and then Jacob after her. He takes the seat at the end of the row. Genevra melts silently into the crowd at a silent nod from Penn as he responds to the questioning glance she sends his way.

A silent gesture from the seated Aaron sends Grady out of the aisle and he bows and takes the giggling Dawn’s hand and leads her down to the student row she’s assigned to sit in and takes up a quiet position hovering nearby, accepting the large black leather bag that Lilia hands him with a smile. Within seconds he has the bag open and the camcorder set up and running. He films the spectacle as the smiling Lilia gives Dawn’s hair and makeup a final touch-up and makes a few last minute adjustments to her dress before helping her into her graduation gown. Dawn smiles proudly at the slightly envious look her female classmates are sending her way. She whispers to Lilia who smiles and nods and moves down the row helping some of the other young girls get ready for their big day.

Grady moves into position kneeling at the front of the row where the other cameramen and video recorders have been directed to set up. Who knew that his Human past as one of the first motion picture cameramen in Hollywood would come in handy now? He’s glad that it is though because if it will make Dawn happy then it will make William happy too; and a happy William makes for a happy Penn and a happy Aurelius Order. He pans the camera slowly with a steady hand, carefully freezing for several moments on each member of Dawn’s family and extended family in the form of her friends and acquaintances.

He stops when William and the ever-possessively attentive Penn are centered on the screen. He sweeps over enough to add Tara to the shot. He marvels at the trio that have changed what it means to be a Vampire in the Aurelius Order. Before Penn they were fragmented and argumentative and it was that very real sense of isolation that doomed many of the remaining Masters. Without the support of their kin the weaker but more numerous bastard breeds had begun to pull them down and no one likes to think just how close they came to overtaking their Order too. Penn put a stop to it when no one else even knew the first halting steps to take. The killing began in earnest and soon every bastard blood that dared to call themselves Aurelius was left as dust clinging to their boots.

In the two and a half years since Penn brought William back the fold, things have completely turned around for the Order. Two new Masters have joined their ranks, newly promoted from the ranks of the Neonates and he knows that Genevra and he will soon rank among them as well. Nearly a dozen Fledglings will soon be making their entrance to the Neonate ranks and seven more Childer have blessed the Order with their youthful exuberance and knowledge of this modern world. All of them have been teachers to their Elders even as they are being taught of their true heritage.

William’s lengthy recovery and retraining has had an added benefit as they’ve all become better fighters learning from him and Penn. Tara’s deep sensitivity and endless empathy has instilled a certain Humanity into them all that has served them well in adapting rather then fighting the modern world they find themselves a part of. They have the adaptability of their humanity now fused with the strength and passion of their Demon halves, what was disjointed and weakened has fused to become stronger then the sum of the parts.

An Order of pure-blood Masters, their Childer, backed up by strong minions and the ability to live in the modern world rather then raging against it, they’ll soon be the power that they once were. Two of the Bastard Clans have already fallen to them and it will only be the blink of an immortal’s eye until they’ll be too strong to worry about even the strongest of the Bastard Orders. They may be fewer numerically; but their sheer strength makes them count for easily five or six times their number. In learning to make peace with their humanity their Demons have found a new wellspring of strength from which to draw as there is no longer the endless internal battles to be fought. Who needs a soul when you have something that even some Humans lack; humanity and being humane is a lesson more than a few Humans could stand to learn. They’re by far kinder to those that choose to give of themselves so that they may survive then humans are to the poor animals they prey upon.

Their networks of donors all have their room and board paid for and receive a generous check for each ‘donation’ that they offer. When the urge to sink their fangs into soft, hot flesh becomes unbearable the hot-running blood of the criminal element is still there waiting. Their end is quick and nearly painless, ending on an orgasmic rush that many have walked willingly to their deaths to receive. Knowing that the lure of living blood is all but overpowering to all but the oldest and strongest Penn has issued a decree all but unheard of among their kind. Only the Masters of the Order may feed from a living and willing Donor for only their control over their Demons has developed to the point where they can control the bloodlust rather then it controlling them. Nearly every Master of the Order has at least one Donor willingly bound to their service that serves many functions; valet, confidant, secretaries, and other functionary roles.

Sires are gently encouraged to let their Childer feed from them regularly, a practice that had become increasingly rare in recent memory. Penn leads by example, letting his care of and for William show the way and the changes have been remarkable. Their Childer are strong, healthy, and many are exhibiting the gifts of their Vampiric heritage that had become all but extinct.

William was the first to exhibit signs of the gifts, as his inability to fight during his lengthy recuperation somehow fostered the development of his secondary gifts. The strength of his Seducer powers added to his sheer skill and deadliness as a fighter has made him incredibly strong. As William’s Seducer powers have developed and grown through use, so too has Penn’s rather unique psychic talent. The degree to which he has bonded to William is all but unheard of allowing them to speak telepathically and sense and project their emotions even separated by hundreds of miles. It could be much farther but that has yet to be tested as they’ve never been farther then three or four hours distant from each other and then when only necessary. Ravali has theorized that it’s a combination of Penn’s psychic gifts and the unique empathy that William possesses as a Seducer that has fostered such a strong link between them. She believes it will deepen once their mating Ceremony is performed as it deepened when Penn performed the Ancient Rite that formally severed William’s ties to Drusilla and replaced her as his Sire. According to their ancient laws the Ceremony cannot be performed until William has served as Penn’s consort for one hundred years but all of them know that it is merely a technicality. Penn and William are mates and mated.

Grady’s viewfinder shifts and soon Angel is its center of attention. Dawn informed them all that Angel would be here but he wonders if either Penn or William was really prepared to see him. It’s clear from the way he’s watching them as opposed to the Graduation preparations in progress that he wasn’t prepared to see them.

“It’s almost time, Amour.” Lilia’s softly accented voice precedes the arms slipping around his waist by a few seconds and he takes his finger off the tape button and smiles at his lover. “Le Petite Soleil looks lovely; this will be a good night I think.” She says happily.

Grady can’t help but lean over and kiss her gently. Their ‘Little Sun’ is indeed shining brightly and he has to agree that it will be a good night thanks to Jacob’s magic and the special magic that is all Dawn’s gift to them all. Shadows have no place around the sunny, bubbly young woman that has wormed her way into all of their supposedly ‘unloving’ hearts. Yes it will be a good night. He shoulders his camera as the lights lower and the graduation ceremony begins.

Chapter Six

Angel studiously ignores Buffy’s attempts to talk to him and finally she stops trying. He only has eyes for his boys, his two beautiful boys. They are so very different yet they’ve always complemented each other. Penn has always been very much the responsible Elder of the two. His form is built along powerful lines; the formidable strength engendered by his Puritan upbringing was only increased and honed by his transformation into a Demon. He stumbled on the headstrong young man on the eve of his wedding to a proper and well-to-do young woman who was as prim and proper as he. Naturally it amused him to see how much he could subvert and pervert the faith of his human life and it wasn’t long before looking at Penn was like looking in a mirror. The cold silvered glass may no longer reflect his image but what need had he for that illusion of light and appearance when he had his lovely Penn to look at?

He delighted in the slow corruption of what had once been a pure, God-fearing man into his Vampire Childe and the bane of those he once lived among. Penn’s strength of body was matched only by the unassailable solidity of his will and the sheer brilliance of his mind. He was very proud of his First-born even though he was barely thirty and a half years into his own rebirth and he knew little about raising a Childe. Penn had been his Childe but also his equal and he suspects that is in that fact that the trouble between them has its roots.

As his Childe grew stronger he began to see the coolly brilliant, aggressive, and powerful younger Vampire as a rival rather then as his Childe. It is that to that jealousy that Drusilla owes her less than auspicious entrée into their family. He had something to prove, though he was too blinded by jealousy to see that the only one that needed the validation was himself and that Penn adored his Sire with a depth few could have believed existed among Demons. He found the delicate flower that was so like his Penn, pious and inviolate, but so much more fragile. She was a masterpiece of human destruction, so much so that not even the power of the Demon he forced into her could overcome the madness that resulted. Drusilla was exactly what he envisioned her to be, a broken doll that would look on him with the adoration of madness and that would never be strong enough to challenge him directly.

Looking at Penn now is almost painful in the intensity of emotions it raises in him. He is every inch the coolly brilliant Vampire that he’s always been and as he always feared, his Childe has replaced him. His eyes seek out the platinum prize sitting so regally beside his First-sired and he knows that he’s been replaced in more ways then one.

Where Penn’s siring was the result of some deep seated need for an equal and partner and Drusilla’s siring the result of petty jealousy and a longing to be someone’s God made flesh, William's siring was different. He’s never revealed the dark secret he’s carried for well over one hundred and twenty years. William’s siring was Drusilla’s response to his well-hidden, or so he’d thought, desire for a lover, a conduit for the emotions he’d rejected. William died and was reborn because of him. Drusilla may have been his Sire physically but his mad broken Childe was only obeying some unexpressed desire on his part. Drusilla sired William but it was never for herself, in some fractured part of her mind she brought him to their lair as a gift for him. It may not have been his fangs that drew the life from William’s body or his blood that initially began his transformation into a Vampire but it was done in his name.

From the first few minutes in his company he knew that this Childe was radically different, unique among their kind. Had humanity so loved the perfectly formed features and loving heart that they were bound to him even in death and rebirth to darkness? He knew from the first moment he’d seen the barely risen fledgling that he was in love with him and desired to chain him to him in any and all ways that were to do it so naturally he hated him at first sight too. He did his very best to destroy the very qualities that made William so unique, telling himself that humanity in a Demon was abhorrent. He set to scour it from his Grand-childe and instead he’d created only a stronger and more resilient and deadly armour around that part of him. Spike was born of torments that would have broken a thousand Demons yet failed to break the only one that mattered. In trying to destroy William he had only driven him away and driven himself into a mad angry obsession with the vivacious Vampire that has never truly faded.

The rest of their family had varying reactions to the strange but powerful changeling in their midst. He was to Drusilla her wicked and beautiful boy, her black knight and champion and it wasn’t long until he became exactly that. Where Drusilla was vulnerable William would not be and he embraced the caring violence his Grand-sire heaped upon him and used it to become a fighter that few could equal. Give him a cause worth fighting for and it’s just possible that he could well be unbeatable. He saw it time and again in his violence defence of Drusilla and in truth of them all at some time or another. He’d seen entire squads of would-be Vampire hunters decimated by the force brought to bear by William protecting his family. From the first his strength was unusual, even as a Fledgling his power was more akin to a much older and experienced Neonate and it contributed to his exemplary accomplishment of achieving Master rank in an unheard of twenty years.

Darla’s regard for the youngest member of the family was as changeable as the sea. Some nights it was the calm pride of a family Matron that knew she was the envy of many for the calibre of her bloodline. Some nights it was the raging storm of jealousy and hatred. Those were the weeks that William would bleed. Some nights she found him charming and amusing and those were the nights that she would laugh until her sides ached and they would all bask in serenity of a happy Darla. Some nights she would rush the shore with flood of waters as she would actually look at William and see how beautiful and seductively compelling he was. Those were the nights that she would command him to her bed and William would bleed.

Touched by his Sire’s madness; his regard for their youngest was just as mercurial but always tinged with the violence of obsession, guilt, love, and the war inside him. He was a Demon but yet he loved as a MAN and that was unacceptable. That he should want William on a level beyond the mere pleasure to be found in their bodies was to him a travesty a betrayal of all it was to be a Demon. So he loved and he hated and William bleed until he’d bled so much that William became Spike and Spike became in every way his nemesis.

From the first it became clear that Penn’s regard for his ‘nephew’ was not so conflicted and that only angered him more as no matter when he seemed to look at them they were together. To find Penn you had only to find William for it was assured his First-sired would be nearby. It was the last challenge to his authority and dominance in the family that he could accept and he forced Penn out, commanding him to leave yet unable to bear sending him completely away. A separate lair was always set up for Penn nearby yet far enough away that he could almost pretend that he was gone yet with the knowledge that he was still close by. Yet not even that was enough to part the companions and William; for his was always William with Penn not Spike; began to spend more and more time at Penn’s lair until at last the week came that William failed to return at all.

A rage unlike any he’d ever known had come over him and to this very night he doesn’t recall everything that transpired but he awakens sometimes in the night with the scent of blood and the sound of screams in his ears. He’d truly believed Penn had been destroyed that black night a victim of his fury and the uncontrollably obsessive desire to possess William, Spike, or whatever other name he chose to call himself or would ever bear as his own. It was the first time that Spike would raise arms against him trying to defend Penn from the enraged fury of his Sire and it was an utter wreck of a Vampire that he would so tenderly carry from Penn’s destroyed lair that night. Behind in the now smouldering rubble of his first-sired’s lair, Penn was left to the benediction of the gathering flames. Or so he believed then.

When he returned to his lair it was to Darla’s horror and Drusilla’s grief as she grieved for the remains of her Childe being cradled so tenderly in her Sire’s arms. Darla immediately fled from the sight and out into the night and he knew that somehow the stench of his abominable act had clung to him as tightly as any Hangman’s noose would have. She could say nothing however for as Penn’s Sire it was his right to end his Childe’s existence and he believed that he had.

He carried the wreck that was once William to his room and informed Drusilla that from this night on he would be Sire to them both and that they would belong to him always. He set about healing and rebuilding the mass of broken bones and flesh; working his dark machinations unopposed on the healing Vampire. By the end of the many months it had taken for him to heal he believed that it was the Watchers Council that took Penn from them and caused his own injuries. It was with a dark glee that the devotion once shown to Drusilla and Penn began to be turned to him and in Spike he found that which he’d always wanted. He had a true partner, a Vampire that would change the face of what it meant to be a Vampire with his strength, cruelty, and with sheer talent for anarchical chaos that was unequalled and a lover unlike any before or since.

He had everything he’d ever wanted, unspoken or not. He would lose it thanks to Darla’s last attempt to win back his favour in the form of a Kalderash gypsy girl. He lost it all in gaining his soul and he languished in despair alone. He tried to return to his beloved, to the family he’d left but seeing his beautiful bloodstained William, flush with the blood of a slain Slayer and held in Drusilla’s arm was a torture of a kind he could not withstand. It was his lies that engendered the hatred for Slayers that doomed that girl as she paid for a crime that he’d committed. He turned William into Spike, the Slayer of Slayers and it was a sin that haunts him still. Of all the deaths that he lays at his feet, it is his premeditated and willing transformation of his William into the bane that is Spike that has haunted him the most. So he left and abandoned his Sire and Childer to whatever fates awaited them.

His eyes seek out Penn and Spike… no he thinks; watching as that moonlight pale head slowly lowers to rest on Penn’s shoulder with a little nuzzle. It’s William, still his William there inside the veneer of Spike that sits beside his protective older… Sibling… Uncle… Lover… Sire… MATE? NO those are HIS boys. He should be sitting there between them, a pale-mane resting on one of his shoulder so trustingly and a darker one on the other like the perfectly complimentary book ends they’ve always been. His smart, coolly logical, powerful, and imminently capable Penn and the mercurial, ferocious, sexually sensual beast in the feline package that makes up his passionately human Spike, they belong to him. They always have.

If he has to face the united front of Penn and Spike and defeat them both again, if blood must once more flow between them like wine in order for him to reclaim them than that is what he will do.

“…do? I mean that’s SPIKE, we have to do something right? So what are we going to do Angel?” Cordelia demands.

“In case it escaped your notice Cordelia, that isn’t just Spike.” Wesley snaps, glancing at Angel’s closed expression with some worry. He doesn’t know everything that’s going on but he’s recognized several of those people from accounts he’s read in the Council’s records and he knows that what he’s seeing now is a situation with a very dangerous potential to get them all killed if they make the wrong move. “That is the inner circle of the Aurelius Order and it’s obvious that Spike holds an important place among them from the security measures they’ve taken. That dark haired fellow is obviously very attached to him from the looks of it.” A dark thought occurs to him. “Or he’s being held against his will or manipulated… perhaps as insurance against….”

“He’s not being held prisoner, he’s being protected.” Angel interjects quietly in a voice that brooks no arguments. “The chip must still be active, the guards aren’t to keep him under control or from escaping, and they’re there to keep the Humans away from him.”

“How can you know that for sure? You didn’t even know that you’d been deposed as the Master of the Order. They could be using Spike to get to you somehow for all you know.” Wesley’s rebuttal is bluntly stated and he doesn’t quell beneath the dark glare that has everyone else hurriedly finding something else to focus on.

“Penn would never hurt Spike… William. He’s always… cared… about him.” Angel’s voice is flat and unemotional on the surface but the expression in his eyes worries Wesley so much that he barely manages to listen to what he’d replied rather then just hearing it.

“Penn… that’s Penn… but the Council has him listed as destroyed.” Wesley stammers, realizing just how deadly Angelus’ first-sired must be especially if he’s allied himself with Spike of all Vampires. Chipped or not Spike is highly dangerous and he’s never been as foolish as Giles and the other Sunnydale alumni to have thought otherwise. He glances over towards where Penn and Spike are sitting but regretfully his eyes aren’t as sharp as a Vampires and he can’t see much detail. “Angel what are you going to do?” He reiterates Cordelia’s demanding question.

“I’m going to be very polite Wesley, very, very, very polite.” Angel sounds out slowly syllable by syllable like he’s talking to a small boy. “I’m not about to piss off five Master Vampires, two Neonates, a Rakshasi closer to four hundred then she is three hundred, one of the most powerful Warlocks ever known, and someone that I believe to be nearly as formidable a Witch, Wesley. I may as well go dance in the sun, my chances of surviving that is higher.” Angel adds dryly.

Wesley looks quite amusing as a landed fish, his mouth opens and closes uselessly drawing the not unkind laughter of their friends.

“Why do you think they’re here?” Fred asks quietly after the twitter of laughter fades.

“I don’t know why the others are here but Spike and Tara came because Dawn invited them.” Buffy’s voice supplies quietly, almost too quietly for all of them to hear as though she were afraid to speak at all. As they see the flash of anger cross Angel’s features they wonder if maybe that’s more accurate they know. “Spike loves Dawn and she’s graduating, he’d have fought his way out of Hell to be here if he’d had to.”

“He did fight his way out of Hell to be here.” Angel growls and Buffy pales and falls silent. “As for the ‘others’, Penn wasn’t about to let him come back here alone and where he goes the Aurelius Order follows. They aren’t here to cause trouble they’re here because Dawn is FAMILY and this is a special night for her. They’ll leave after the reception dinner. If Spike does still have the chip then Penn will consider Sunnydale too dangerous for them to remain here for any extended stays. They’re probably staying in one of the neighbouring towns.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Gunn asks looking bored.

“Because it’s what I would do and I raised Penn to be my mirror image.” Angel replies flatly and several of his friends are startled. “Penn is protecting Spike, taking care of him.”

“You mean like Angelus would have been if he was here.” Fred says guilelessly revealing a truth that Angel would probably rather have not spoken out loud.

“Angelus isn’t here and we can all be thankful for that.” Wes says hurriedly.

Angel feels the slow boil deep inside of his core, the slow seductive heat spreading slowly through his body one cell at a time ever since his first sighting of his Beautiful Boys. He wonders if Angelus is really that far away after all. “Yes, be thankful for that because you’d all be a pile of bodies he’d lay at their feet like paving stones.” Angel says flatly, sounding distracted and irritable.

“Lay us at whose feet?” Cordelia asks with a frown only half listening to Angel as she wonders if she can get a few moments to talk to Lilia Logan about fashion.

“I assume he means Spike and Penn.” Wesley says gruffly adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat quietly.

“Why would Angelus care about those two whack-jobs enough to kill us for them? Get your facts straight Wes, Angelus hates Spike with a passion, just like Angel does. I don’t know about that Penn guy but if he’s hanging out with Blondie then he can’t be all that either.” Cordelia waves her hand dismissingly.

“Angelus loves Spike with a passion; that’s why he hates him.” Angel says quietly, almost in a breath but to the listeners it’s as loud as a shout and all eyes turn to stare at him in various stages of shock, dismay, or in Buffy’s case, hurt. “William was and is Angelus’ Favourite. You would have had proof of that if he’d been free when Spike was taken by the Initiative and the bodies started piling up. Out of curiosity Buffy, have you heard from that corn-fed Bastard Finn lately?”

“No… well… not lately at least; he came back to Sunnydale but only briefly, he’s married now.” Buffy replies quietly. “He thought Spike was involved in some scheme but it turns out that he wasn’t after all… at least not what he thought anyway. He left with his Wife.”

“He staked Spike.” Willow blurts out in a rush before she looks distressed and slaps a hand over her mouth.

“He did what?” Angel and Buffy growl together.

“T… T… Tara told me about it. Riley stabbed Spike through the heart with a plastic stake for no reason; just to hurt him because he could. She… she… he went to her for help and she helped clean the wound and took care of him while he was healing. She thinks that part of it must have been wood though because she thought that it was going to scar. She told me about it one night, asked me to help her do some research on poultices and unguents that could possibly help reduce the scarring. He was gone and since he hasn’t come back… I never told anyone what he’d done. Tara won’t betray Spike’s trust by ever saying anything about it since he hasn’t.”

“He’s very close to her isn’t he? Spike I mean… and Tara.” Buffy asks in a small voice.

“He loves her and trusts her; though for Spike that’s always been the same thing. He was hurt, vulnerable, and he went to her because he knew that he could trust her implicitly to help him and not to make use of his weakness as another Demon may have. She’s family to him that much is clear by his actions.” Everyone looks fascinated, their expressions silently begging him to explain further. “Demons, Vampires in particular are rather… isolated in some respects. Vampires as individuals recognize very few ties that act on their natures. The strongest is the tie between Sire and blood Childer. It’s not a parental relationship in the classic sense of the term. It’s like being a… god, in a lot of ways. Minions are disposable, easily turned and just as easily discarded but Childer are a very special case. Childer are never turned unwillingly… did you know that?” Everyone looks startled.

“That means that you wanted to be turned by Darla and Spike wanted to be turned by Drusilla.” Buffy’s voice sounds faintly accusing and more then a little disillusioned.

“Don’t judge me until you’ve been in my place long enough to understand me Buffy.” Angel replies gruffly. “Darla was a beautiful woman, exotic and worldly, I thought at the time and there she was, wanting me out of everyone she could have had. When someone wants you enough to offer you eternity so that you never have to be parted, an immortal body that will never know the ravages of time, and the power that most humans will never know; then we’ll discuss the matter. As for Drusilla she probably used her gifts to place William under her thrall since he was turned so quickly. For most Sires, finding one they wish to make a Childe is a very momentous occasion and it’s not that different then love at first sight. Drusilla however always had little patience for seduction or games. She turned William within minutes of first seeing him and that’s almost unheard of but her psychic gifts are some of the strongest I’ve ever seen. I doubt that William had much free will to defy her if she was truly bent on turning him; which she was.” Angel shakes his head as though coming to his senses. “None of that really matters all that does is that Spike went to Tara when he couldn’t fight or defend himself. That’s a level of trust that is very rare for a Vampire to show and it’s rarely extended outside their direct bloodline so Spike, at least his Demon, has adopted Tara as his family. You won’t see Mr. Finn again I can tell you that much.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy demands. It’s not that she wants to ever see Riley again knowing what he did to Spike but it’s the principle of the thing. Suddenly her heart clenches in her chest as she realizes that she’s just as guilty in the ‘hurting Spike’ department. She doesn’t know if any of the pain she inflicted left any visible scars but from her brief glimpse of him it’s clear that the most painful ones are the ones that can’t be seen. Spike didn’t even spare her a glance and it’s the first and only time he’s ignored her, having him yell at her or try to kill her would have been preferable to that awful lack of anything at all.

“Finn staked Spike, apparently for no other reason that he could. Penn won’t let him live to do it again.” Angel’s voice is flat but there’s an unholy gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Riley’s dead? He killed Riley?” Buffy breathes in shock but she finds it difficult in that moment not to wonder if she’s next.

“Finn was one of the ones responsible for Spike’s capture and what… happened… to him while he was a captive there. I’m sure whatever you think happened to him during that time isn’t even a fraction of what he actually went through. I hope that you never know what it’s like being helpless among a bunch of military bully boys that don’t believe you have the right to exist. No degradation, no pain, no torture is too great. Then he stakes Spike, knowing that he can’t fight back… Penn wouldn’t let that go without addressing it. Finn’s death would be the only recompense for his actions that Penn would find acceptable. Of course that’s not to say that Finn stayed dead necessarily.” The gleam of approval shines in Angel’s eyes.

“Oh god Riley could be a Vampire?” Buffy’s heart clenches painfully.

“Don’t worry I doubt that he had to suffer the indignity for long Slayer.” A cold voice replies and they all spin around in their seat and look towards the dark corner several feet away and two rows back. The coolly elegant auburn haired woman from early leans just far enough forward for her cold smile to be seen in the half light of the corner’s gloom.

Angel flinches as her eyes lock on him and the hatred in her eyes flares. “Who are you?” He snaps.

“My name is Genevra, Grand-sire but you may call me Lawson, in honour of my Sire and Mate.” Angel flinches and looks away. “I have long waited for this day, to have you and your little group of do-gooders in my sights and wondered what I would say to you. You stood by while a Human destroyed my Mate, my Sire, and my Love; what punishment would be enough to thank you for your part in that hmm?” She muses in a sing-song voice. “Perhaps the Human’s bible has the answer; a life for a life perhaps or maybe two?”

“They had nothing to do with what happened, leave them out of this.” Angel demands.

“It so happens that I agree with you. That’s why they’re all still alive… well minus one at least.” Genevra replies with a chillingly macabre smile. “Detective Locksley’s screams were quite gratifying. It took her days to die and I danced to her cries for mercy.” Her gaze hardens as she looks at Angel. “I want you to know that you are here only because Penn wishes it to be so or your screams would be a waltz in my ears too Angel.” The ways she sneers his name, it sounds like the foulest of insults and Angel’s countenance darkens stormily. “As for you Slayer… the reason your life is not forfeit is on the stage.”

They all turn to look at the stage out of habit and they watch as Dawn crosses the stage gracefully, happily waving her diploma and blowing kisses to a proudly beaming row of standing observers clapping for her. They all scramble to their feet and clap ashamed that they practically missed Dawn’s celebratory moment. They sit as she leaves the stage and returns to her seat and turn around to continue their conversation with Genevra only to be confronted by a now vacant seat.

“Angel, what did she mean?” Willow asks, wrapping an arm around Buffy’s shaking shoulders.

“Penn won’t allow the rite of vengeance to be visited on us. I’m not sure what’s staying his hand in my case, probably the fact that he’s always had a greater concern for what it means to be family. Your life is safe because it would hurt Dawn if anything happened to you and that would upset Spike and Tara and Penn too I think. They all seem to be fond of Dawn so they won’t take steps against you.”

“What crime did you commit? So you let Kate kill that Lawson guy so what?” Cordelia asks drearily, holding the quietly sobbing Fred, both women grieving anew for their friend Kate’s fate. “Vampires kill each other all the time.”

“I didn’t destroy a Vampire, that’s not what my crime is in their eyes. No my crime is so much worse in their eyes. If I had destroyed Lawson, they would grieve but they could not call for the Rite of Vengeance on me. As his Sire it was my right to take his immortal existence back; as I once bestowed it so it is my mine to reclaim. No, my crime was allowing Kate to destroy Lawson without protecting him. He was my Childe and I allowed a Human to destroy him, encouraged it even. Kate has paid a horrible price for my allowance. I staked my own Sire over a Slayer. I was part of the Master’s demise. I abandoned Drusilla and William, many times over. My crimes are legion in their eyes.” Angel recites sadly. “If Penn hadn’t stepped in to protect me I would have met the same fate I consigned Lawson to.”

“Why did he do that?” Wesley asks confused and suddenly realizing that he sounds less than supportive quickly adds. “I mean it sounds like there’s little love lost there….”

Angel doesn’t answer as his eyes find his boys once more down on the main floor of the dark auditorium and his eyes trace the contours of those precious heads, leaning together, one dark and the other light. Maybe Wesley is more right then he knows and somehow, in some way, there is still some feeling for him there locked inside the Childer he has abused so horribly. Maybe there is little love lost there and what has been lost can be regained. All he needs is a chance and it looks like he’s getting one; deserved or not; by virtue of Penn’s protecting him from the wrath of a grieving Mate. It must be due at least in part to William’s influence as he has little doubt that he’d be a pile of dust if that’s what he wanted and Sire or not Penn would grant it. With the magnitude of the crimes against his own bloodline and Order, none would deny it was their right to seek redress in the form of his destruction.

He casts a pensive glance at his boys as he leans back in his chair, his fingertips forming a steeple under his chin. He watches as Penn lifts his left hand, fingers splayed, his palm vertical to the floor. William’s right hand lifts to press his palm to Penn’s, aligning their fingers so that their hands are aligned. Angel smiles knowing that Penn’s powerful hands will make Spike’s more delicately built hands look almost feminine by comparison. He watches those fingers move millimetre by millimetre until they’re weaved together bending down to lock over strong knuckles. His smile widens as Penn uses their joint hold to pull William’s hand over to his side of the seat so that he can press a gentle kiss to the back of it before settling their hands back onto their shared arm rest.

He remembers his habit of doing the same thing back in the days before his possessive jealousy sent him into a whirlwind of madness. Those nights attending the theatre with his beautiful boys flanking him, his hands held by each and those darling heads resting on his shoulder as they watched the dramas unfold.

Penn was an aficionado of the spoken word, the grand epics of the legitimate theatre and the modest spectacles to be found in the multitude of small theatre houses that sprang up like weeds in every town and on almost every corner. William was always about the music, the sweeping arias and the rousing instrumentals to be found in the Opera and concert houses.

As for him… well the true show was watching his boys lost in their own enjoyment and watching the crowd watching and wanting his boys and knowing that all they wanted was the touch of their Sire’s hands in theirs and the companionship to be found together. How he loved watching the pitiful masses showing off for his boys trying to catch their eyes with no understanding that they belonged unbeating hearts, supernatural bodies, and lack of souls to their Creator-God Angelus. How sweet they tasted as he drained them down and cast their useless shells aside to watch his boys delighting in the Demons he by one means or another, had given to them.

If anyone had been looking at him then, they would have shivered at the chilling smile dashing fleetingly across Angel’s features before being carefully wiped into impassivity. Wesley was wrong; very, very wrong; Angelus is here and it isn’t their lucky day at all. He’s been all wrong-headed about this. What he’s seen here tonight is proof of that. He can be a Vampire without being a monster, he can be Angelus with his soul if he wants it bad enough and right now, and he has something he wants just that badly.

He’ll be sitting between his boys again. Soul or no soul; Daddy’s home and it’s time to get his boys back; even if it kills them all…. again.

TBC In Part Two