Banner by Selene

Christmas Eve, 1998 

“She wants you to touch her. What are you waiting for?” the First, in the guise of Jenny Calendar, taunted. 

“No,” Angel denied. His hands fisted in his hair as he vigorously shook his head. “No!” 

“Angel?” Buffy soothed, cupping his face in her hands. “Angel, what is it?” 

“She wants you to taste her… think of the peace. You’ll never have to see us again.”

“No… please, no.” 

“Angel?” Buffy laid a calming hand on his chest. “What’s wrong?” 

“Buffy,” Angel whimpered. Then groaned and gave in, pulling the Slayer into his arms, burying his face in her neck. 

“Angel… I—” 

Words were cut off as Angel sealed his lips to hers. He wanted to escape. Escape the First’s taunting. Escape the pain. 

He poured everything he had, everything he was, into the kiss. Gave Buffy his soul, and sought peace. Cool fingers found the bottom of her dress and shoved it up to her waist. Ignoring her slight protestations, which weren’t really protestations so much as a half-hearted denial — she wanted it as much as he did — he had her underwear down her hips and off her legs. Short, concise movements saw his button and zipper undone. His own underwear was pushed down awkwardly with one hand, the other unable to stop touching her. Then he was seeking her heat. Swallowing her moan of being filled by him. 

The First encouraged his efforts.

“Take her. She wants it. Look at her. Drink her. Drink her now. Do it, Angel. Be at peace.”

Angel’s face shifted against Buffy’s neck. Fangs tore into her flesh. Slayer blood poured onto his tongue and he hummed his pleasure. Beneath him, she whimpered. This final act he made good for her. Gave her memories to cherish. Something to cling to when she finally did her duty and staked him. Buffy… sorry. I’m weak. Liam… he was weak. A drunkard and a layabout. Not what you needed. Never what you needed.

Her teeth latched onto his arm and bit down into cloth and skin to stifle her cry of completion. The demon, his demon that had been so hard to keep submerged of late, gloried in her surrender. Promised pain and death once it was free of its cage. Angel ignored its taunting laughter, its whispers of the things it was going to do to them all. 

He was done. Finished. Going to Hell, like he should have done over two hundred years ago. Leaving the beast behind to be destroyed. 

Trusting Buffy and her watcher to do what they had to do. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

March, 1999

“Your plan’s not working, Giles,” Xander argued, slamming shut the latest book in a long line of those he’d already read. Gone was the teasing “G-man” moniker. Angelus had seen to that. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument and disgust with their lack of progress made his voice especially harsh. 

“The Slayer—” the watcher began. 

“Was the third one killed in as many months,” Xander snapped back, cutting him off. 

“Xander!” Willow chided. 

“It’s the truth, Willow.” Not Wills, Willow. A grownup name for a grownup girl. His eyes pinned her with a look. Eyes wise beyond their years. “Buffy, Faith… Lisa. Everyone that’s gone up against him has died.” 

“Be that as it may, it is what they do, Xander. They’re the slayer. It’s their duty—” 

“To be killed at a tender age? Yeah, I get that. But how many more slayers are we gonna go through before they manage to take him down? Five? Ten ?” Xander’s anger at their situation made his voice unnaturally harsh. 

“As many as it takes,” Giles replied honestly, not rising to the youth’s bait. His voice was calm, resigned. “Or, until the prophecy is fulfilled and the First brings Hell on Earth. Then it won’t much matter, will it?” 

Xander slumped back into his chair, the fight going out of him. “So, two months then.” 

“Yes. Two months,” Giles confirmed. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Mr. Travers called. Nadine should be here by the end of the week. Until then, no one goes out after dark. And I mean no one. Angelus is just waiting for the opportunity to pick us apart. Now, it’s getting late. You all should get home.” His gaze lighted briefly on Xander, Willow, Oz, and Cordelia — teenagers who no longer were. “I need to speak with Joyce so she can make preparations for the new Slayer’s arrival.” 

The group nodded, gathered their things and shuffled out of the watcher’s home.

Oz and Willow parted ways amid hugs between the girls and firm handshakes for the two males.

“Be safe. Guard your back.” 

It had become the ritualistic parting among the group. 

“You too,” Oz replied. “See you tomorrow.” 

Xander nodded, then he put his hand on the small of Cordelia’s back and steered her towards her car. “Come on, Cordy. Drop me off, then go straight home.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

The relationship between the two had changed in the wake of Buffy’s death. While not together in the physical sense, they’d put aside their differences and become friends. Partly due to the fact of Xander having saved the girl from Angelus. That, and her desire to be kept in the know and wanting to stay alive.

“I fully plan to graduate and move away from this hellhole,” she’d told him a day after ‘the incident.’ 

“Hellmouth,” Xander had corrected. 

“Whatever. And, if I have to disregard the whole kissage scene between you and Willow—” 

“Where we quickly decided ours was a ‘just friends’ relationship,” he’d interjected. 

“And again with the whatever. Look.” Hand on hip, she’d given him ‘that’ look. “You guys are my best chance of staying alive, so if I have to hang out with you, well… I’ll suffer the loss of some cool points. Besides, I’ll never see these losers again once I’m gone.” 

And that had been that. Cordelia had shown surprising resilience at research and was an apt pupil to Willow’s computer learning. Oz and Xander helped with the book stuff at times, but their primary duties were geared towards weapon stocking and maintenance. Giles saw to the Slayer, alone now that Wesley was dead. The Watcher’s Council thought it best that Giles, already in place on the Hellmouth, resume his duties – especially given that he had first hand experience with the vampire in question. 

“Remember, Cordy. Straight home,” Xander warned as he stepped out of the car now idling at the curb next to his house. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice, mister. So, pick you up tomorrow morning?” 

“Yeah. Tomorrow,” Xander agreed. “Be safe—” 

“I know, watch my back. Got it. You too.” 

Xander shut the door and stood on the sidewalk until Cordelia’s car was out of sight. Then he went inside, ignored his parents’ drunken conversation – man, they were hitting the bottle earlier and earlier every day – and trudged up the stairs to his room.

He had a letter to write, and a lawyer to see. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“I’m in the middle of something here,” Angelus growled, though he’d not bothered to stop fucking the girl’s ass who was bound to the bed beneath him. His rage at not being able to get to the rest of the Slayer’s – Buffy’s – friends made him especially brutal. Not even the girl’s muted screams were enough to appease him, and he finished quickly then drained her dry. Leaving her carcass for the minions to dispose of after he went out. 

“What do you want?” he finally asked once he was garbed in shirt and pants. “And can you lose the dead teacher already?” 

The image of Jenny Calendar morphed into Darla, his dead sire. 

“This better?” she purred. 

Angelus grunted. Finally quirked his brow and waited. 

“Oh! You want to know why I’m here.” She sidled up to the vampire and ghosted a hand down over the hard stomach revealed where the two edges of the shirt had yet to meet. “You look a little tense, lover. The Slayer’s friends still giving you trouble.” 

Angelus snarled and snapped, moving away from the image of his sire. “Like I care one whit about a coupla brats and some overwrought watcher.” 

“Hmmm…” she purred. “I figured you’d want to do away with any reminder of the Soul. Guess I was mistaken…” Darla made to walk out of the room but was stopped by the vampire who was now blocking the door – not that it would have really stopped her if she wanted to leave, she was noncorporeal after all and could just disappear. But, having intrigued the vampire, she couldn’t help but tease him a little bit more. 

“Well?” he demanded when she just stood there. 

“Well what?” 

“You didn’t come all this way to interrupt my fun for nothing. What do you want?” 

“Fine. I just thought I’d drop by to mention that a little birdie is out after dark.” 

Angelus kept his cool, smirking at the figment of his sire in front of him. “So? What? I’m supposed to drop what I’m doing and rush right off to go look?” 

“Of course not. This is merely a courtesy visit. Nothing more.” 

“Uh huh.” Angelus’ tone was skeptical. 

“Look. The longer you stand there questioning my motives the less likely he’ll be wandering the streets of Sunnydale.” 

“He?” 

“Oh, didn’t I say? It was Xander who is out without a Slayer escort.” 

Darla chuckled as Angelus toed into some shoes and raced out of the mansion.

~*~*~*~*~ 

As weeks had turned into months without Angelus being able to exact his revenge on the boy, his rage had slowly festered. Ever since Xander had stood up to him and managed to free the girl, Cordelia, from his clutches, he’d vowed he’d one day break him. And break him good. 

Now he had his chance. The boy had finally been lured into a false sense of security and made a mistake.

He was out after dark. Wandering the streets of Sunnydale all alone. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Even knowing that he was going to go through with it, part of him wished that he’d make it home safe. That he and Giles would find another way to defeat Angelus and stop the First. 

Xander rounded the corner and saw his home in the distance. No one was out on the streets. As if the inhabitants of Sunnydale had suddenly gotten wise to the things that went bump in the night and were tucked safely behind closed doors once the sun went down.

He gripped the stake he held in his hand a bit tighter and strode purposely towards his house. Up the steps and onto the porch. His head fell forward, his chin resting on his chest, and he let out a weary sigh of relief. He’d made it. 

“Hello, Xander…”

~*~*~*~*~ 

Xander woke to feel Angelus push inside him again. His mind began to drift to shield himself from the pain, then stopped abruptly. If the vamp sensed in the slightest his mental departure, it would only earn him a cuff to the head, or a bite to the neck – anything to bring him back to the present. And the pain.

Angelus wanted him to feel the pain. Wanted him to feel everything done to him. Feel it, and get off on it.

Xander had counted on that aspect of the vampire’s nature to keep him alive after the first day of his capture. 

What scared him was how much he was coming to enjoy it. Each little hit with whatever toy Angelus had handy at the time. Every single bite into his flesh. He craved the hurt, sick bastard that he was becoming. 

After more than a week – at least he thought it had been a week, the days having begun to blur together – of Angelus’ personal, and constant, attention, he was unable to do anything less. The vampire was a master at exploiting weakness. Either that, or Angelus’ mind games were enough to make you believe the weakness. 

“How’s my whore this morning, Xander?” Angelus’ husky purr sounded in his ear, coupled with a groan at the end as he thrust all the way in.

Hearing his name on the vampire’s lips was worse than all the other crude names he was called put together. Angelus knew it too. Saying it with just the right inflection that made him arch helplessly beneath his larger frame. Begging without words for the tenderness promised in that single word.

False promises always. 

For he’d no sooner react than the vamp would snarl and hiss and unleash his fury onto his body. Then it was hard fucking with no end in sight, until he was begging. Please, please, no more. Whatever you want, Angelus. Just… Sorry, so sorry. Forgive me. Apologizing for whatever perceived slight he’d committed. 

Laughter then. Cold and without emotion. Then the vamp’s cool release flooding his ass. A harsh hand at his cock, stripping it hard. Making Xander come – whether he wanted to or not. He wasn’t sure if he knew which was worse.

Xander could feel himself slipping. Craving the perverted touch of the vampire who he called Master. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he forgot his reason for being there in the first place, instead becoming the docile human pet Angelus was molding him into. Begging for every scrap of attention Angelus deemed to give.

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Why don’t you kill him already?” Darla complained, mouth pursed in disgust at the boy lying quietly at the vampire’s feet. She didn’t trust the human – once a white hat, always a white hat in her book. Well, as far as the Slayer’s groupies were concerned. They’d been impervious to her special brand of corruption to date, continuing their search to kill Angelus and preventing her return. 

“Now what do you want?” Angelus growled. Personally, he was getting tired of the thing that had taken the form of his sire. Like the First was mocking him somehow. If he’d not been physically unable to leave the Hellmouth, he would have taken his boy and disappeared. Perhaps visited the land of his birth for awhile. 

It was a revelation, his wanting to keep Xander with him when it was over. But in the month since Xander’s capture, Angelus had come to appreciate the constant warmth the boy provided. Then there were the sounds he made when he was being fucked. How he arched into each blow of the whip that landed on his flesh. How he now bared his throat so eagerly, begging to be bitten.

“Angelus, please… I need…” 

“I know what you need, boy. I always know. Don’t I?” 

“Yes… master…” 

“You love this. Love how I make you feel. Love the pain.” 

“Yes. Love… Angelus… please…” 

“Shhh… I’ve got you. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t I always?” Knowing chuckles echoed around the room, causing the boy beneath him to shiver.

Yes, the boy had been a surprise. Who knew what a treasure Buffy had kept hidden. A natural sub. It was no wonder the Soul was disgusted by the boy. He could sense his potential. Yet he’d wanted no part in corrupting Xander. 

Angelus smirked. Corruption was right up his alley.

“If you can take your mind off the human for a minute, I need you to do something for me,” Darla snapped. 

“I told you before, I’m not your lapdog. Go find someone else to do your dirty work.” 

Darla’s eyes gleamed red, proof that the vampiress was merely an illusion.

“You’d do well to respect your betters, Vampire.” 

“Please. Batface couldn’t beat it into me. Neither could… you.” A slow perusal of the body in front of him indicated he meant his sire. “I do what I please, when I please. Don’t you remember?” He laughed when Darla went through a rapid change of characters as she attempted to get control of her emotions. “Tsk. Tsk,” he chided with amusement when the image solidified and stepped towards him with deadly intent. “I’m your ticket out of Hell. Can’t hurt the little gate keeper, now can you?” he mocked. 

Darla growled and Angelus rolled his eyes. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, done teasing the specter before him; anything to get her to leave. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Kill the mayor,” she demanded immediately. “He no longer serves any purpose to my plan. The power he’s been given has gone to his head.” 

“You don’t have any other acolytes running around to handle that? I thought you were the First Evil.” 

“You try my patience, Vampire.” 

“The name’s Angelus, and yeah, I tend to do that. Was the bane o’ m’ Da’s existence, I was,” he smirked, affecting an Irish brogue. “Seriously, why me?” 

“Because you are the conduit of my return and the only one that can kill him presently. Your power is as limitless as his.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can do you this favor.” 

“Thank you,” Darla grumbled and disappeared. 

“Thing took the right image,” he muttered, sitting up to ruffle Xander’s hair. “Has the bitchy whine down to an art form. Something my sire excelled at.”

~*~*~*~*~ 

Still high off the kill – the mayor’s blood had tasted so sweet – Angelus rounded the corner and started up Crawford Street. Though the street was deserted, he knew immediately that something was wrong. With a burst of vampiric speed, he raced up the walk and burst inside the mansion.

Xander was struggling against the attempts of the watcher to get him covered and out of the room. The Slayer, a new girl he’d yet to come across, was busy fighting off minions determined to keep the boy there.

Angelus’ growl was loud enough to be heard over the din. 

The action seemed to come to a comedic standstill as he stood in the open doorway taking in the scene before him. Then the room erupted with activity. The minions renewed their attempt to get at Xander, with the Slayer battling – successfully – to hold them back. 

“Come, Xander,” Giles urged, drawing the boy back towards the side exit, a crossbow held out in front of him for protection. 

Xander fought against the man, kicking and screaming, and finally sunk his teeth into Giles’ arm hard enough to break the skin. He gained his immediate release and ran across the room, oblivious to the danger, to reach Angelus’ side. 

“I’m sorry,” Xander cried, falling at the feet of the vampire. “I didn’t want to go. I told them I didn’t want to go. Please, Ang— master. It’s not my fault. I didn’t want to go.” He began to sob hysterically, knowing what was to come. The vampire would see it only as an attempt to escape, not that he had any part in it. That he truly didn’t want to leave. 

“Shhh…” Angelus soothed as he crouched down beside the boy, one cool hand running over his bare shoulder and drawing the blanket from Xander’s body. “Hear that, Watcher?” he called out as he stood. “Xander likes it here. Looks like you’ve wasted a trip.” He laughed, seeing the man’s expression – a mixture of shock, revulsion, and resignation. 

“Come on, Nadine. We’re leaving.” 

Angelus watched, arms akimbo, as the Slayer and watcher disappeared out the side exit. 

“Don’t make it easy for them,” he told the minions standing by waiting for his command. “Just don’t kill them. Gotta make sure they deliver the news to their friends. Let them all wallow together in their misery.” 

The minions left and Angelus looked down at the boy who’d yet to move. “Come, Xander. Let’s bleed away the watcher’s scent, shall we?” 

Xander rose and followed obediently behind the vampire, head bowed in resignation. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Two more weeks passed without another visit from either the watcher or the Slayer, and Angelus finally relaxed his vigilance. The betrayal of Xander must have been the final blow for the group of do-gooders, he thought. Either that or they were going to make one last concerted effort to destroy him on the night of the ritual. 

He had his money on the night of the ritual. The watcher was predictable if nothing else. Were he to swing by the man’s flat and peek in through the window, he’d no doubt find the group clustered around the man’s living room with books scattered everywhere. 

Too bad it wasn’t going to work. 

Smiling, he climbed out of bed and walked towards the shower. He was suddenly feeling generous, so let the boy sleep while he cleaned up, and even afterwards while he dressed, rather than cuff the side of his head and knock him out of bed. 

Letting Xander wake on his own was a surprising revelation to Angelus. He stood at the end of the bed and watched as the boy squirmed beneath the covers, one arm reaching out and encountering nothing but emptiness. 

“Angelus?” the boy mumbled, and he felt a shiver of pleasure at that single word. Need, confusion, fear, all rolled into one. 

“Right here.” 

“Did I oversleep? I’m sorry…” 

“It’s fine. Go get cleaned up and meet me downstairs.” 

Xander nodded warily and climbed out of bed as Angelus left the room. In the shower, tears fell silently to mix with the shower spray as he leaned his face against the cool tiles.

Until today, he’d not once doubted what he had to do. Or why. The fate of the world rested in his hands. 

But all he wanted was to curl up against the demon he called master and bask in the brief kindness he’d been shown. 

Which was why it had to be today. If he didn’t do it now, he knew he never would. He’d let Angelus bring back the First. Then follow the vampire wherever he led. 

It was amazing how calm he became once he knew that today would be the last one he’d ever see. For there was no doubt that Angelus would kill him once he revealed what he’d done; he’d known going in that it was unlikely he’d survive.

What he hadn’t known was how much it was going to hurt. Already he could feel the ache the vampire’s absence was going to cause. Maybe it was a good thing he was going to die. 

They might meet up together in Hell. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Mmm…” Angelus murmured his thanks as he took the goblet from Xander. He drained the blood in a handful of swallows, then set it aside and yanked the boy onto his lap, intent on a chaser. 

Xander trembled in the vampire’s arms, adrenaline running rampant through his veins; he’d been so sure that Angelus would have sensed the holy water mixed in with the blood. Would knock it from his hand and punish him. As Angelus suckled at his throat, he clung to the vampire’s neck. That connection, that sense of belonging, was about to be lost to him forever. 

“Sorry… so sorry. I’ll look for you in Hell…” he mumbled against the silk beneath his lips, tears falling once again. “I promise…” 

“Xander,” the vampire growled, having torn his mouth away to stare down at the boy. “What— Argh!” 

Angelus flung the boy off his lap and staggered to his feet. 

“What did you do to me?” he demanded, eyes boring into the teary-eyed boy on the ground. 

“I’m sorry!” He crab-walked away from the vampire slowly advancing on him. Not since that first night had he seen Angelus so angry. 

“What. Did. You. Do?” Angelus bent down and picked the boy up by the throat. 

Xander didn’t even struggle. “Holy water— in your cup—” 

Angelus backhanded him with his free hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Xander apologized around the blood in his mouth. 

“I know you are. Tell me, Xander. Just how sorry are you?” 

It took four hours for the holy water to do its job. Four hours in which Xander bled for his master.

It took another hour before Xander joined him in death. 

Darla glared down at the mangled body of the boy at her feet and the dust littering the ground beside him. She’d known that Xander was too much of a white hat to give his loyalty to Angelus, and she’d been right.

With a snarl of rage, she disappeared. 

Forever denied her return. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Two weeks later… 

The knock on the door took the watcher by surprise; he wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Yes?” he called out from the other side. 

“Delivery for Mr. Rupert Giles.” 

“Delivery?” he asked, opening the door. 

“Sign here please,” the man in brown said. 

Giles scrawled his name then took the overnight package from the driver’s hand. “Uh— thank you.” 

“Have a nice day…” 

“Erm— yes. I’ll endeavor to do that.” 

He stepped inside and shut the door. 

“What is it, Giles?” Willow asked. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Well, duh! Open it already,” Cordelia snapped. She was on edge since tonight was the night. Either they killed Angelus, or they’d all be killed. 

Giles pulled the tab and dumped the contents out on the table. A single envelope with a post-it attached was the only thing inside. He picked it up and read aloud. 

“My client instructed me to have this sent via overnight delivery in the event I’d not heard from him by May 9^th, 1999. Respectfully, James Marshall, Attorney-at-Law.” 

“What else does it say?” Willow asked. 

“That’s it, I’m afraid.” 

Giles opened the sealed envelope, and as the first few words jumped out at him, sank wearily into a seat.

Hey G-man! 

If you’re reading this, I guess I’m dead. But, hey, at least I got to save the world. Right? 

I told you our plan wasn’t working. It wasn’t, no matter how much you continually disagreed with me. Angelus was just too strong, and throwing slayers at him wasn’t going to get the job done. 

He wanted us. Couldn’t have the humans that had witnessed his humanity living, now could he? I took a chance that he’d settle for just me. Man, I pray he does. I wouldn’t wish what I know he’s going to do to me on anyone.

Anyway, I have a plan. It came to me one day in English Lit. Are you surprised I actually paid attention in class? I am. Anyway, the play’s called Hamlet. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Of course you’ve heard of it, you’re British.

I’ve hidden holy water outside the mansion and when the time is right, I’ll use it, if you get my meaning. No weapons for me, though. Gonna have to stick it in the glass. I’ve got my fingers crossed that he’ll actually drink blood out of one occasionally.

I just have to hope Angelus will want to keep me alive for awhile. If I can convince him that I want to stay, he’s got to relax his guard at some point. Please forgive me for whatever I might do to make sure that happens.

If you can do me one favor, I can go into this with a clear conscience. Don’t take the girls with you to the mansion after you read this. Whatever you find, I’m sure it’s not going to be pretty and I’d rather everyone hate me than see what has become of me. 

Take care of everyone, Giles. They’re going to need you. 

Alexander Lavelle Harris

The End  

Want to leave a REVIEW?