Title: Taming of the Demon

Author: Angel's blue eyed girl and Vixangel

Rating: M: Like we write anything else! :)

Disclaimer: Joss don't sue us—we're just borrowing them to have our wicked way with them!

Summary: This is an Alternate Reality fic: Angelus was never cursed with a soul. Angel never existed and Buffy has been the Slayer for five years in Sunnydale. She is in college and dating Riley, but with the help of her friends and Giles she's managed to be a somewhat normal girl, living a normal life. That is until the Master comes to town for the Harvest. I don't want to give anything more away, but to sum it up Angelus comes to Sunnydale to kill Buffy. He meets her, falls for her and well you can guess the rest...

A/N: As always thank you to Red—the worlds most incredible beta. I love you sweetie!!

Also me and vix want to dedicate this fic to the "Evil Twins" Summer and Roxy! You two are becoming infamous, you know?? lol! We love ya bunches and we all want to join your club! lol! :) :) :)

A/N 2: Okay and last, but not least…The pairing here is Angelus/Buffy. BUT there will be Angelus/others. Now before you go all psycho—remember this is an Angelus was never cursed fic—so he IS with others BEFORE Buffy…Of course, Darla is amongst those. She IS his Sire and they WERE together, so I just want to let you know—there are some scenes with Angelus/Darla as well as Angelus/others in this fic. It's for plot reasons and to show what he is and how bored he is with his un-life, plus... HE'S a demon and has a lusty appetite…okay?? BUT—this IS a Buffy/Angelus fic so bear with us, okay?

Thanks,

xoxo

Jen and Vix

Now on with the show..

Chappie 1

Sunnydale: Summer 2005

"Well, where is he?" Heinrich Nest asked the beautiful blond as she entered the throne room of the large Mansion he'd purchased upon arriving in Sunnydale.

Darla pouted prettily as she moved about the room, picking up tiny knick-knacks here and there as she decided how best to answer her sire's question; she decided on the truth. "Playing with another of his little obsessions I suppose—but he'll be here," she said assuredly, stopping to look out the window.

"And you're sure of this?" Nest demanded.

"Oh I'm not sure about a lot of things...the Stock Market—the rise of the Dow Jones…" She put the little figurine down and turned to face her Sire. "But one thing I AM sure of is the fact that Angelus will return to me. He always does," she said with a wicked little smile.

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Cut to an apartment in L.A.

The apartment's tastefully decorated living-room had a fantastic view of the city, down the dark hallway there was a huge bedroom decorated in fine Italian leather and an 18th century four poster bed. The two figures on the bed moved in a sensuous rhythm punctuated by growls and breathless cries of pleasure. The Gryphon on the man's back flexed as he braced himself above the woman and thrust into her willing body.

"Angelus," she whimpered, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. "I love you."

He put his hand over her mouth. "Don't," he told her, lifting her thigh higher on his hip and angling himself to drive deeper. His skin sizzled as he watched the blue licks of electric current pulse and spark from where they were joined. She cried out, her body tightening, and her electricity flowed sharper, more powerfully. "Don't love me, Gwen—I don't have it in me to love you back. I don't want your love," he grunted just as he felt her body explode around his own.

He growled in pleasure/pain. "Fuck!" he groaned, clenching his teeth as her electric current sizzled right up his spine to his heart, making it pound. He convulsed, his body shuddering and with a groan, he emptied himself inside her willing body.

He gave himself a few minutes to calm down before he rolled out of the luxurious bed and began to hunt for his clothes. It was time to end this affair. She loved him—he detested the emotion, maybe because he'd never felt it—even as a human. He sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled on his silk boxers.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she whispered.

"Yeah, you love me—I can't handle that…"

"B-but why? What's wrong? I won't say it again…please, Angel, talk to me."

"What's left to say? C'mon Gwen, you knew it had to end sometime," he said as he stood. "Hey, you were incredible—my heart even pounded, but you knew this wasn't permanent, lover…"He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. "You had me longer than most. Usually my affairs last a month—two tops, but you kept me for five months!" He sounded amazed as he sat on the bed again, his shirt in hand. He leaned over and kissed her. "Really, baby, you should be patting yourself on the back—not crying," he said huskily.

"But I need you," she whimpered.

He shrugged her off and pulled his shirt on. "Lighten up. We had a good time—it's over. Let's not have a scene about it, okay?"

"Are you saying I'm never going to see you again?" she asked, clutching the sheet to her naked breast.

Angelus sighed. Years ago he would have drained her and left her nude, bloody and artfully arranged as a twisted monument to announce his utter lack of love. In the last fifty years he'd mellowed; the kill didn't hold the pleasure it once had. Leaving them alive and aching for him was better—made him feel more alive.

He pulled on his dark leather pants. "You really are at the back of the bus, aren't ya darlin'?" he said with a cruel smirk. "This wasn't some love thing—it was fucking—you know, flesh to flesh—fucking." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "It wasn't little birdies singing and fireworks." He chuckled, but his look was cold. "Get over it—I already am!"

Gwen clutched the sheet tighter as her heart broke. "Angelus…please…please don't do this!"

The sound of his zipper was loud in the silence of the room and his eyes began to glimmer with malicious pleasure as he watched the tears fill her eyes. The sweet scent of her heartbreak began to fill the room and he grinned. THIS was the only thing that made him feel anymore. Watching them cry when he left them…

"I have to, but seriously, babe, don't cry." He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on. He chuckled suddenly, but it was a cruel sound, not the husky laughter Gwen had fallen for over the last several months. "Nah, cry if you have to. I like your tears—so sad—so good. "Un-life was getting boring. I was looking for a distraction. You were it, something to keep me busy and to piss off my possessive Sire, nothing more."

"But, don't you care about me…at all?"

He grabbed her chin in a punishing grip. "Look at me, Gwen. I don't care—I never did." He got up and looked down at her, almost sympathetically. "Even as a man—I never loved anyone, but myself…maybe my sister—her name was Kathy—" He shrugged and began to button his shirt. "But I killed her the first night I was turned, so I guess I didn't love her enough, huh?"

Gwen bit her lip and crawled across the bed on her knees. "Angel, please don't leave me—we have something. I know you don't love me, but—"

"Jesus, Gwen, have some pride," he growled and finished buttoning his shirt. "It's not that I don't love you. It's that I don't love anyone. I don't love my childer, I don't love Darla. I don't love, period—I'm just NOT capable of it, I guess…The only thing that makes me feel is this…" He leaned down, cupped her cheek and kissed her gently. "Your pain—your need for me—it's wonderful…It makes me feel alive."

"Please," she cried, beyond pride. "Please d-d-don't l-leave."

He grimaced as she clung, trying to hold onto him. He grabbed her wrists and roughly un-wrapped her arms from his neck and shoved her back on the bed. "Get off me!" he growled.

He savored her sorrow as he moved around the room, methodically gathering his belongings. It was one of his rules; never leave anything behind—except the pain of his leaving, that is. He was already thinking on finding his 'next' project as the annoying task of hunting for his shit reminded him of how tedious his life had become. He hadn't lied to Gwen when he'd told her he was bored. Torture was still fun, especially with the new power tools invented in the last fifty years. But, then they died so quickly—it really didn't hold his interest like it had when he was younger. Sex was the same—especially with Darla, sometimes it even felt like a chore—a duty she demanded from him. He looked around for his hair gel and growled in frustration. He'd been fucking Gwen for months and his gel was always on her dresser—now it wasn't. He stomped into the bathroom, ignoring Gwen and her tears.

Tossing open cabinets and drawers, he crouched down and finally found it. 'Was the bitch hiding it?' he wondered, and for a moment he entertained the idea of torturing her after all. He sighed and dismissed the idea; she'd probably just beg him for more and he wasn't in the mood. Angelus rubbed some gel in his hair and wondered how he'd become so numb? Not even breaking a person held the thrill it once had. Well, really, 250 years and several disastrous attempts at perfect destruction had cured him of that—plus, he had enough Drusillas' to last him a lifetime. Four of them to be exact! 'I should've just staked the lot of 'em' he thought, 'what the fuck was I thinking, turning all of them?' he mused. He knew they were bound to show up any day now. Spike had called to tell him they were on their way. The younger vampire could only keep the girls away from 'Their Angel' for so long, and then they'd nag and cry to him until the whole brood would be on Angelus' doorstep. He rolled his eyes and wondered how he was going to put up with all the 'I love you, daddys'!

"I might just stake myself!" he muttered. The only thing that made it bearable was the amusement he got watching Spike try and maintain control the henhouse—that and pissing Darla off was always, good for a bit of fun. He left the bathroom and threw the last of his things in a bag.

He turned to leave, but Gwen's soft voice stopped him.

"Angel, why are you doing this to me?"

She was the perfect image of grief and he savored it before he noticed the clock and realized Darla had been waiting for him for almost two hours! 'Shit, she's gonna be furious!' he thought, but then shrugged it off, 'She'll forgive me…she always does…'

"Sorry, babe, no more time to talk—gotta go. I'd say I'll call you, but I won't, so this is goodbye," he said cruelly as he put on his jacket and headed for the door. He ignored her soft sobs and inhaled her pain one last time. It was intoxicating, almost as good as her orgasms. He opened the door. "If it makes you feel any better—I can't help it, I'm dead inside. You may have made my heart beat, but it's still dead. I just don't feel—anything," he added, meeting her eyes for a long cold second before he walked out of her life, taking with him the lovely aroma of her sorrow.

Gwen watched him go. She didn't know who she felt sorrier for, herself or the dark demon who could light up a room with his smile and make a woman fall head over heels for him, but had never experienced the joy of being in love himself. As deeply passionate as Angelus was, Gwen knew if he ever did—it just might consume him and the woman he loved.

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Sunnydale University:

Willow nudged Buffy and gave her a sly grin as they crossed the quad to their dorm room. "So it's your birthday tomorrow night, is that gonna be THE night?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I swear Wills YOU want me to sleep with Riley, more than I do! What's the deal?" she grumbled, shooting her red-headed friend an exasperated glance.

Willow had been trying to get her to take that final step in her relationship with Riley for months and Buffy just didn't really get why?

"I-It's not a deal Buffy it's just that you said you were thinking about—and well you haven't…? And we're all wondering why—you haven't? I mean me and Oz—we have and well…" the red head trailed off.

Buffy scowled. "So—my love life is like your water cooler conversation? Not really liking the visual here!"

Opening the door to their room, Willow hastened to reassure her friend. "No! I mean—it's not like that, you—well it's just…" she shrugged and trailed off. Willow tossed her back-pack on the bed and turned to her friend. "I don't know Buffy—in high school, you and Riley were so hot and heavy, I thought I'd be the last surviving virgin and yet here we are—college and it's you…" She saw Buffy scrunch up her face in disgust and sighed. "I mean, not that being a virgin is a bad thing—it's just—well Riley is a great guy and he loves you. You love him, so why haven't you—you know? Done the deed?"

Buffy dropped her book bag on the floor by her bed and pondered her friend's question for a moment. 'Why hadn't she and Riley made love?' Her mind immediately came up with several reasons—along with the fact that the one time they'd actually planned on making love it had turned out really, really bad!

She sat on her bed and gave Willow a sideways glance as she used her old tried and true excuse. "Um hello--you do remember my seventeenth birthday, don't you? The one and only time it actually felt right for me and Riley and it obviously wasn't, because look how that worked out for us!"

Willow nodded as she climbed a top her own bed. "Yeah, the Judge—I remember." She rolled her eyes. "As if any of us will ever forget an eight foot blue demon that tried to turn us into crispy critters!!" She gave Buffy a smile. "That was ages ago—what does it have to do with you and Riley now?"

"Well, it said something…" Buffy hedged. "Maybe it meant me and Riley just aren't right for each other—ever think about that?"

"Not really and seriously, how long are you going to use that as an excuse? I mean, besides ruining that one night, you still haven't explained how that ruins you're relationship in the here and now."

Buffy shrugged, she didn't know how to answer that really. "I dunno, but I do know that it hasn't felt right since then and if it doesn't feel right—I'm not doing it." She sat back against her wall and pouted. "Now can we leave my sex life or lack of one alone? Not wanting to be rude, but the phrase not your business is coming to mind!" Her grin softened her words, but Willow could see Buffy didn't want to talk about this any more.

Willow sighed and gave in. "Fine, but I swear I don't know what or maybe, I should be asking WHO you're saving yourself for, huh? I mean, Riley is—well he's great and—" Willow stopped and wondered if she should broach the subject regarding the real reason she thought Buffy hadn't gone further with Riley.

Taking the plunge Willow said, "Do you really think you're going to find your tall, dark and handsome prince here in Sunnydale?"

Buffy felt her cheeks flush hot pink as she stared at her roommate and best friend. "I don't know what you're talking about—prince? What prince would that be?" she asked, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt.

Willow sighed and motioned to Buffy's pillow, the same pillow Buffy was now leaning on as if protecting it. "Oh, I dunno—like maybe the gorgeous hunk in the picture you keep tucked under there…" the red head replied, hoping Buffy would open up to her about her thing she had for the guy in that picture. "I mean, sure he's like mucho hotness, but I just don't want you to be like disappointed—you know—waiting for someone like him to show up."

Buffy stared and Willow sighed. "But this IS Sunnydale," she shrugged. "Last I checked, nothing but big-bads flocked here."

Buffy looked away. "You don't know anything about it Will and I really I don't want to talk about it—him, okay?"

"Um—I'm just saying, I think you'd be happy with tall, blond and sweet…BUT that's just my opinion of course!"

Buffy rolled her eyes."Okay, color me bewildered, but what does me having a crush on a guy I'll never meet have to do with not wanting to sleep with Riley?"

Willow shrugged, "It's just that ever since you got that picture you've been obsessed with him. You like totally changed towards Riley is all I'm saying and I'd hoped you'd like gotten over HIM and all, but then I found the picture under your pillow and…"

Buffy glared at her. "Why are you looking through my things?"

The red head flushed. "I wasn't! I was doing a term paper last week and I went to borrow your pillow so I could sit on my bed and use my laptop and he just kind of—well fluttered to the ground and—I'm sorry Buffy. I wasn't snooping—I swear."

Buffy sighed, it wasn't Willow's fault and plus she was right in a way. Buffy was obsessed with the hottie in the picture. She remembered when she got the picture last year…

She'd come home one night from patrol and found an envelope addressed to her lying on the floor of her dorm room. Looking around the room Buffy hadn't seen anyone there so she realized it must have been slipped under the door. Inside was a folded piece of paper and a picture.

The photo was of a very handsome man, with short, dark, messy hair, piercing eyes and a smile that could be called playful and dangerous at the same time. In the picture he was reclining on a bed with his arms crossed behind his head, his pose was relaxed, teasing and sexually inviting. One look at his expression and Buffy just knew a woman had snapped this picture. His shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a hard muscled chest, rippling abs, with a line of dark hair that trailed into unbuttoned pants that rode low on lean hips. He was laughing in the picture, but his eyes were intense, Buffy could feel his power, the magnetic pull of his charm even through the one dimensional space of the photo. It reached out to her and just grabbed her.

"Oh my God…who are you?" she'd breathed, staring at the picture as shivers raced up her spine.

On the back of the picture was a name. "Angel." Turning the picture over again Buffy stared at his sensual face and had to agree; he was an angel. The note had said, "He will come for you." Really big on the cryptic and not so much with an explanation; Buffy had thought and had thrown the letter away, but she'd been unable to toss the picture aside. The man fascinated her and for once Buffy hoped this particular cryptic message would come true. That's when the dreams had started…She tried to pretend that the reason she'd soured towards Riley wasn't because every night she lay in bed and waited for her elusive angel to come for her, but she knew Wills was right, every night she lay in bed and dreamed of this man. Sometimes he was dark and dangerous…coming to her and sweeping her off her feet, kissing her, making love to her. It was so sexually satisfying; Buffy felt no urge to have sex with Riley. She had sex every night with 'Her Angel'

She gave her friend a small, but genuine smile. "Look, I get that you only want me to be happy, and Riley is a great guy—a normal, solid, terrific guy…" She sighed, "I know—everything I should want, but I'm just not sure he's the one for me and whether it has anything to do with a crush on—on—Angel…" She stopped and took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, that really doesn't matter because I just don't FEEL it with Riley—so I need you to stop with the buggin' me about this for now, okay?"

Willow nodded contritely. "Kay—sorry, it's just I hate to see you just waiting for a guy you don't even know—"

Buffy forgave her friend and smiled. "I know, you just don't want me to die a virgin!" she teased.

Willow laughed, willing to let it go and relieved Buffy wasn't mad. "I wasn't gonna say that, but now that you mention it, I mean, what if that picture is years old? What if this Angel guy is all weird and old and…" She gasped. "Eeeew all wrinkly?!!"

Buffy grimaced. Somehow she couldn't see him that way. "Ya know what, let's just forget I said anything, okay?"

Willow laughed, "Yep, okay--already forgotten…not a clue as to what we were even talking about and I definitely have no memory of you whispering Angel last night in your sleep either!" She giggled, then sighed dramatically and flopped back on her bed, hands clutched to her heart. "Oh Angel, come to me, please don't let me die a virgin, my wicked dark prince!"

Buffy snorted. "Oh, whatever I know I didn't—" She stopped and her brows lowered, "Did I really…?" she asked as her face flamed red with embarrassment.

When Willow nodded and laughed Buffy's face scrunched up and she scowl/pouted, "Fine, so I dream about him. He's gorgeous, why shouldn't I?" she defended herself, praying that ALL her dreams about the delicious hunk hadn't been whispered out loud in her sleep! Her face turned crimson at that thought…

Willow rolled onto her back, laughing. "Oh you've had some doozies, but since you're still a virgin I won't embarrass you with the details."

Buffy threw a pillow at her. "Just because I haven't—well you know? It doesn't mean I don't know how…" she sputtered. Willow grinned and Buffy crossed her arms, glared, then smiled sarcastically."You know Willow, I have one watcher already, but I promise to let you know if I need another, okay?"

"Oh—so don't want to be your watcher."

"Then stop watching!" Buffy said and then giggled. "Well, at least stop nudging me towards Riley, okay?"

"Deal," Willow said and grabbed the pillow. She rolled on to her tummy, propping it under her. She was happy they were laughing again. She'd made her case and Buffy had rejected it. Oh well, she just wanted her friend to be as happy as she was, but Buffy was her own person and would find her own way to happiness. Who knew? Maybe she'd meet her prince here—after all, this WAS Sunnydale! Far weirder things had happened here!

With a mischievous grin, the red head changed the subject. "So—as much as I LOVE talking about your mystery man—what did you think of that new Psych Professor? Can I just say…Bee-yatch?"

Buffy relaxed, she definitely appreciated the topic change. "Oh that's a def," she agreed, as she leaned back against her bed again, grinning. "As a matter of fact, I'll see your bee-yatch and raise it to a Cruella!"

Willow giggled. "Cruella doesn't even cut it. I'd say more like the Wicked Witch of the West maybe..." Willow curled her hands into talons, "I'll get you my pretty and your little friends too!" she screeched, causing both girls to giggle.

With the previous conversation behind them, they fell back into their easy camaraderie as they began comparing Professor Walsh to every horrible storybook character known to man or child.

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Nest's Compound:

Darla paced in front of the terrace doors as she waited for her recalcitrant lover to return to the fold. The high walls surrounding the courtyard obstructed the view beyond and she sighed in disappointment as she let the heavy drapes fall back into place. She so dearly loved a view. Angelus always made sure their homes had impossibly beautiful views—not like her Sire, who'd lived most of his un-life in the sewers. Which reminded her, Angelus was supposed to be looking for a new home for them, but of course he was late. 'Probably had to get one last romp in,' she thought with a pout as she turned away from the window. "Damn Angelus—he always has to make a grand entrance. He can be insufferable at times…" she muttered.

The Master gave a short bark of laughter. "Which is precisely what I told you nearly 250 years ago my dear when you first brought the stallion home with you, is it not?"

Darla tamped down her anger, not wanting her sire to see she was upset. She knew he liked to rub her nose in Angelus' extracurricular activities, and she simply wasn't in the mood tonight. She laughed huskily, "Yes, as a matter of fact you did," she said with a smile. "But he's MY stallion, no matter where his eyes wander—he always comes home to me, so…" she shrugged. "I tolerate his obsessions. They never last…we, however, do."

The Master nodded and sighed in disappointment that she'd seen through his baiting. "Yes, you have, and a lot longer than I gave it, actually," he said with a frown. "Anyway," Nest waved a hand, "when he gets here, tell him to come see me, will you? I have a task for him." He smiled craftily. "One that requires his special brand of—skill."

Intrigued and more than a bit suspicious, Darla raised a finely arched brow. "Such as…?"

Nest tsked her. "Don't be jealous, my dear, it doesn't suit you. I'm not going to ask him for anything he hasn't already done several times before. I need him to get rid of the Slayer."

When Darla's eyes widened, then narrowed in anger, he spread his hands and chuckled. "Don't give me that look, my sweet…she's young, small and blond—right up his alley." "You know—just like the other Slayers he's taken, and just as susceptible to a charming rogue like your boy, I'm sure," he said, getting his dig in with the reminder that every tiny blond Slayer in the last two hundred years had eventually made it to Angelus' bed.

Darla suppressed a snarl; she knew it! She knew he was up to something when he'd asked for this meeting. "Are you mad? After what happened the last time?" she demanded hotly.

Nest sneered. "Why, Darla, do you doubt his ability to perform the task?"

Darla's tinkling laughter filled the room; she knew what her sire was up to. It was a win/win for him. Angelus takes out the Slayer, Nest has his Gathering. Angelus dies, Nest gets his darling girl back. She was determined NOT to see the latter happen! "On the contrary, I am 'quite' familiar with Angelus' appeal; believe me, my darling boy could charm a nun out of her habit," she said with a curve of her ruby red lips. "But what concerns me is the fact that those silly Watchers have finally started warning their Slayers about him. That last Slayer knew about him before he'd even met her, remember?" Darla paced. "If he wasn't so charming, she might have staked him," she exclaimed, warming to the argument.

"And we all would have mourned," he replied under his breath, sarcastically.

Darla's head lifted and she shot him an irate look. "You want him dead!"

Nest glowered at her; actually Angelus had NOT been his first choice for this mission. He didn't want to add to his overbearing Grand-childe's reputation, so he had sent some of the demon world's most efficient assassins after her first. When this Buffy had demolished the Three with barely a sweat, he knew he would need a more delicate approach. She was the strongest Slayer ever. If he wanted to destroy her, he had to get inside her head and heart, and only Angelus could do that, much to his disgust!

"Don't be ridiculous, Darla, I have no desire to see your boy dusted, but as you know, I have plans for the Hellmouth here in Sunnydale and I need the Slayer gone. This is just business, dear heart—don't make it personal," he said with a placating smile.

Darla narrowed her eyes. "Why do I not believe you?" she asked sweetly, but the steel in her voice was obvious.

Nest loved this childe of his above all others; he would do just about anything for her, but it was true— he detested her arrogant mate, but since he didn't want to fight with his beloved childe; he lied. "Nonsense, my darling—my only wish is for Angelus to add another notch to his already impressive reputation by taking out another Slayer. After all, if you recall, he ended up defeating the chit the last time, did he not?" When she wavered, he added, "Even though she knew him for what he was, your boy was still able to enchant her and she was a strong Slayer, lasted over three years, remember?" he said with a crafty grin.

Darla nodded, but wasn't fooled. "But this one's stronger they say. The strongest ever, as a matter of fact, and she's dangerous, no matter how tiny she is," she said with a pout. 'Not to mention much too pretty for my liking,' she thought. She crossed her arms over her chest as she faced her sire determinedly. "No, I will not have you put him in that kind of danger again."

"Darla, why don't ya let me decide the level of danger I feel comfortable with, hmmm?"

Nest chuckled as Darla whirled around. Angelus was leaning against the entryway of the throne room. He was dressed in low slung, snug fitting leather pants and a deep, dark green silk shirt halfway unbuttoned down his muscular chest. The shirt was so dark it appeared black, but when the light hit it a certain way, brilliant green highlights danced off the hand woven silk. The color suited Angelus perfectly, it made you stare and once you stared…once you met those eyes—you were lost.

Darla scowled. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, with his mussed hair, bedroom eyes and lascivious smile. Darla noticed how the supple leather of his pants hugged his groin and thighs, and when he crossed his arms across his broad, half naked muscled chest, she licked her lips hungrily. He looked wicked, arrogant and far too scrumptious.

"Angelus, how long have you been eavesdropping?!" she scolded, but her voice had taken on that breathless tone that only he inspired. She forced herself to saunter over to him, tamping down the urge to throw herself at him or drag him immediately to their bedroom. "About time—I was beginning to think I'd lost your attentions for good this time," she told him coquettishly, pouting for effect.

Angelus quirked a brow at the tiny note of insecurity he heard in her seductive voice. "Come on, Darla, you know I'll always come back to you, lover. No one can ever take yer place, lass," he said softly as he pushed away from the wall.

He flashed a roguish grin as he met her halfway across the room and took her hand in his much larger one. He kissed her wrist, using a bit of tongue as his smoldering dark eyes met and held hers. "Yer my lover and my sire, who else would I come home to?" He wrapped a brawny arm around her slender waist and pulled her flush against his body. "You still fascinate me, darlin'," he whispered huskily. "250 years together and no one pleases me as you do, love, you know that, so why the pout, hmm?" he teased in the lilting Irish accent he'd never gotten rid of. He nibbled at her full lower lip.

Darla's anger began to dissipate as soon as his lips touched hers. "I do NOT pout, Angelus," she replied, but disproved the statement by stomping a tiny foot as she glared up at him.

Miffed at the other woman she could smell all over him, Darla refused to let him waltz right back into her bed without getting a taste of her anger. Pulling away, she gave him a haughty glance. "I am simply not willing to spend my eternity with your ashes if this plan backfires. You know the Watcher's Council would love to see you dusted, and no matter how angry you make me—I don't want to see you floating in the wind!"

Angelus saw through her display and wrapped his arms around her curvy hips and pulled her to him again. "We've gone over this, lover, I was careless with that last Slayer. Got a wee bit arrogant, I guess you could say," he placated, nuzzling her neck. "But ye know it as well as I do, no one has a better record at taking out Slayers—not even Will, though the boy tries!"

Nest snorted and Angelus winked at him, before tipping Darla's chin and holding her gaze with his own. "Don't think about that last Slayer—she took me by surprise when she knew me by name before I'd even said a word to her, but now I'm aware of the danger—I know ta be more cautious, more discreet, so why are ye so worried about this one, hmm?"

Darla sniffed and tried to pull away. "Well, this one's different…she's…"

His blood was already humming at the thought of taking on a Slayer again. It was just what he needed to pull him out of this funk. He was doing this whether Darla wanted him to or not, but he didn't want to do this without Darla by his side. He chuckled as it hit him suddenly—she was jealous! "Aaah, so she's a bonnie lass then," he murmured, already licking his lips in anticipation at seeing the woman that could make his delectable Sire jealous!

"She's passably pretty, in a gauche, teenage kind of way." Darla shrugged, realizing too late she'd only whetted his appetite with her jealousy. "But if you want to have your un-life ended cavorting with a Slayer, then please, by all means, don't let me stop you,"she said, waving an elegant hand towards the door.

"Just passably pretty, huh?" He suppressed a grin. He wasn't fooled by her about face; she didn't want him within a hundred yards of the Slayer. If he hadn't already decided to do it, Darla's intense jealousy would have made up his mind for him. Confident of her own beauty and allure, Darla was never jealous like this. Angelus had to see this girl for himself.

He studied her for a moment before he smiled. "Why am I thinking you might be lyin' to me, darlin'?"

Nest chuckled as he watched their exchange. In the end, his grand-childe would win the argument--he always did. Usually he detested that fact, but this time he was counting on it. He settled back to watch the fireworks. Their confrontations were always entertaining.

"I'm sure I don't know why you suddenly find me a liar, Angelus!" Darla glared. "All I know is I feel this is a bad thing and if you choose to go ahead with it—if you BOTH choose to go ahead with it, you do so without me!"

Realizing she was almost beyond reasoning with, Angelus put his plans for the Slayer on the back burner for a moment and played to her vanity instead. He took a step back to get a look at the outfit Darla was wearing. Allowing his constant desire for her to show in his eyes, he grinned as he looked her up and down. "Catholic schoolgirl?" he asked, raising a brow as his lips twitched in amusement. "Only you would have the audacity to wear this outfit." He licked his lips in lusty arousal. She knew he had a thing for Churches and Catholic girls, too. "You look good enough to eat, lover!" he whispered huskily, pulling her flush against his erection.

Pleased he'd FINALLY noticed, Darla giggled as she pulled away from him and spun in a circle. "You like?"

He nodded as his eyes roamed the tiny blue plaid skirt and his cock throbbed with wicked need. "I like—a lot," he replied, running his hands along her figure. He fingered the blue sweater with distaste. "Lose the sweater though," he demanded, "it takes away the "naughty" in the outfit."

Heat raced through her at the look in his eyes. Eyes locked with his, she gripped the hem of the blue pullover and pulled it over her head. Tossing it aside with a flourish, she posed, "Better?".

Angelus gave a soft growl and reached out to flick open the first four or five buttons of her shirt, exposing her white lace bra and a generous amount of cleavage. "Now it is…" he said, his voice rough with lust. "Now you look like MY kind of schoolgirl, lover." He pulled her towards him slowly as a lazy smile curled his sensual lips.

Darla whimpered softly as her whole body clenched with desire. That look of his never failed to do her in. "Angelus…" she moaned softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

They ate at each other's mouths for several minutes. When Angelus broke the kiss, his eyes met his Grand-sire's and he grinned conceitedly, loving the old bat face's veiled hatred of him. Angelus wasn't a fool, he knew there was nothing old Nest would like more than to have him dusted and Darla back under his control…he winked at his grandsire, enjoying the rage he saw there. "How about we take this back to our room and you let me punish you for bein' such a naughty little lass, hmmm?" He nuzzled her neck as his eyes held his Grand-sire's angry gaze.

Darla moaned softly as she turned her head to give him better access to her throat. "Mmmm—sounds like fun, darling—as long as I get to punish you later?" she murmured, hot and hungry for him, but unwilling to just give in.

Angelus laughed. "As if we've ever done anything else, baby…" he purred, hauling her up against him. "I'd be right disappointed if ya didn't fight back!" he teased as he tossed her over his shoulder. He gave Nest another smirk as he smacked Darla's upturned bottom and headed out of the room, grumbling with the pleasure of having Darla under his control, and besting his Grand-sire in this little battle. Angelus knew the Master was plotting his demise, but he was ready for it. The line had been drawn years ago… the time had come to find out who would hold that line.

The eldest member of The Order of Aurelious grumbled as he watched the cock-sure whelp head off with his favorite over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He couldn't deny the jealousy he felt at how easily this young whelp wound Darla around his finger. Maybe he'd get very lucky and the Slayer and Angelus would kill each other, then the thorn in his side that was his grand-childe would be gone...finally!

'Hmmm…' he thought with a feral grin. "One could certainly hope…" he growled as Darla's giggles and Angelus' grumbles of lust faded as they headed upstairs to their rooms.

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Okay guys, click the little blue button to feed musie. Do you like it? hate it? Let us know...Musie is a review junkie and she thrives on your feedback!! :) :)

Oh and BTW: I posted this without having Red beta the Buffy/Willow scene...so any mistakes in that are all mine. Sorry...too impatient and after I sent her the chappie, I realized--I had NO Buffy in it. Since I knew that would never do--I tried my own hand at killing my children...lol! So, I hope it's not too bad!! ;) :) :P Anyhow, if it is...it's my bad.

Jen