Part 4
Sunnydale, October 2001
Sitting in a chair along side the bed, Djoser was keeping a close eye on Spike. There was no doubt that, despite his considerate caring, the younger vampire's body temperature was rising to a dangerous level. Hourly feedings of his blood had not staved off the delirium and high fever. It was Mexico all over again.
Sighing, Djoser stood up to look for some type of restraints. His brother would have to be tied down to the bed or what few possessions they owned would be trashed. Walking out to the main room of the crypt, he began to look through a bag of items that they had picked up at Nic's lair.
Pulling out a .38 special, he studied it a moment. Nice, heavy weapon but not as good as the 9-mm Beretta he had been using. The sound of the main crypt door opening had him spinning around, cocking the .38. Seeing the slight, blond figure standing in the doorway, the vampire expelled an unnecessary breath, lowering his weapon.
"Buffy." Djoser hissed softly. "Walking into a vampire lair without knocking could be hazardous to your health, even if you are the Slayer."
Looking at the vampire in surprise, the thought of knocking had never even crossed Buffy's mind. Shrugging slightly, she offered a quick but insincere apology. "Sorry, but I'm not in the habit of knocking before I enter any kind of demon lair. Kind of spoils the element of surprise."
Despite her rudeness, Djoser smiled. The Bloodline vampire understood that like himself, the Slayer was a superior being, and arrogance was her right. Tucking the gun into the waistband of his pants, he resumed his search. "So to what do I owe the honor of your presence? Is there some kind of weird Frankenstein monster that you need help with? Or a crazy goddess who's out to destroy the world?" Pulling out a hand full of long, leather straps, he turned back to face her.
"Actually. . . ." Buffy looked around the crypt, avoiding the vampire's eyes. Uncertainty now filled her. "I came. . . ." She paused again, trying to remember exactly why she had thought it so important to come see the vampires. "Giles is back, and I spoke to him about you and your situation. Told him about the deal you offered. Would you like to. . . ?" It was only a simple request to accompany her on patrol, but she was finding it hard to voice it.
"Would I like to what?" A lift of the eyebrows as Djoser gave her a suggestive look.
Now frowning, Buffy didn't like the vampire's provocative stare, even though she had been the one who had sought him out. "I thought you could come with me on patrol, and we could discuss what Giles told me."
"Normally I would consider it a privilege to patrol with you, but I can't leave William now."
"Why? What's up with him?" Now curious, Buffy followed Djoser to where Spike lay sleeping.
"He. . . ." Djoser considered a moment. Conscious of his brother's dignity, he decided not to tell the whole story. "He's ill. Running a fever. I need to tie him down." He held up the leather straps. "Or he'll destroy what little we own."
"What?" Buffy wrinkled her face in puzzlement. "Does a fever make him act crazy. . .crazier or something?"
"Something like that." Walking up to the bed, Djoser eyed Spike with worry. The younger vampire was thrashing around with violence, body covered with sweat, moaning and muttering under his breath. "Help me tie him down." He requested as he threw one end of a leather strap over his brother's body.
"Djoser." Buffy was shocked as she walked over to the sickened vampire. "He looks terrible!" She noticed the neck wound now scabbed over with dried blood. "Was he in a fight? Stupid question. He's always in some kind of scrap. Don't you think you should take him. . . ?" Breaking off, she realized that that her advice to take Spike to the hospital was both brainless and unhelpful.
"Take him where?" Bending down, Djoser was busy tying one end of the strap through the metal bed frame.
Thinking quickly, Buffy managed a feeble reply. "To some demon healer."
"He saw a demon healer both in LA and Mexico."
"And?" Buffy grabbed the strap to tie the other end down.
"And what?" Not wanting to discuss the subject, Djoser feigned obtuseness.
"And what did they say?" The word idiot hung in the air unsaid.
"That he's ill." Djoser's answer caused Buffy to sigh and roll her eyes. Now tying down the second strap, he knew that he couldn't evade the crucial issue anymore. "The demon healer in LA refused to see him because our Sire was not present. But the Shaman in Mexico saw him, and his diagnose was. . .Sire's blood." That was as much of an explanation as the dark vampire wanted to give as he stood and began to walk away.
"Angel." Buffy spoke the name that both Djoser and Spike refused to say. "He needs to go back to LA. Djoser." Stepping sideways, she blocked the vampire from leaving. "You have to take him back to Angel. You know that, don't you?"
Deep down a part of Djoser knew Buffy was right, but it was an issue he was not ready to face. Anger was his only defense as he irrationally lashed out at her. "This is none of your business, Slayer. Just keep your nose out of our affairs!"
**
"Just keep your nose out of our affairs." Repeating Djoser's words, Buffy angrily kicked a discarded soda can down the street, as she pushed down the feeling of rejection. "Brother's probably dying, and that's all he can say. Like I care if Spike croaks. Just one less vamp I have to slay."
"Hey Buff, been looking for you." An out of breath Xander came jogging up to her. "Got you a job working on my construction crew, starting tomorrow."
Stopping in her tracks, Buffy regretfully remembered her own problems. "A job? You mean a job equaling paycheck?"
"It's just a temp gig, Buff. Not sure how long it may or may not last. Since you're not union, I had to call in a few favors to get you on a crew."
"I appreciate it. Muchly. You saved me from having to accept Giles' offer to work at The Magic Box. I mean, retail? Yeee." Buffy shuddered. "I'd rather be dead. . .again."
"Not a problem. . .oh and there's one more thing." Xander reluctantly brought up the message he had been given by Willow to relay to Buffy.
"Something more? Please tell me it's not more trouble with the house. I still haven't figured out how I'm going to pay for my plumbing problems. And don't tell me that Anya found another unpaid bill."
"Angel called." Xander interrupted. "You know that Cordy is still the queen of the grapevine. Someone told someone who told someone who called Cordelia in LA. And she of course told Angel that you're. . .you're alive again." The two resumed walking slowly down the street. "Guess Deadboy still cares. . . ." He turned his head to look Buffy in the face. "A little."
"How strange." Buffy muttered more to herself. "We did agree that he's Angelus again, right?"
"I don't know." Xander found himself in the strange position of defending the vampire. "Word from LA this last summer is that he's been a model citizen."
"Except that he's reunited with Darla, and. . . ." Seeing the bafflement cross Xander's face, Buffy realized that he didn't know about the vampiress and her 'condition.' "Guess Cordelia is falling down on the job."
"What?"
"Never mind." Stopping, Buffy turned back in the direction in which she had come from. "I need to go and speak to someone again. You go on home." Heading back to the cemetery, she threw one last question back at a still puzzled Xander. "Pick me up bright and early tomorrow morning?"
**
Having forced more of his blood into Spike, Djoser was now wiping the sweat off his brother's shivering body. The blood combined with the cool sponge bath seemed to have brought the fever down.
Coming back to consciousness, Spike opened his eyes, vision blurry and distorted. Seeing a body looming over him, he addressed it. "Sire?"
"William, it's your brother Djoser." The vampire grimaced as he once again heard his brother asking for their Sire. "Do you remember where you are?"
Blinking his eyes, Spike tried to clear his vision and the cobwebs in his head. "I remember." He said flatly after a moment.
"Do you think you could try and feed again?" Djoser was interrupted by the sound of the main crypt door opening. "Goddamn it!" He swore while quickly picking up his Beretta. "I'm going to have to put a deadbolt on that. . . ." Stopping as once again Buffy came into view.
"I did knock this time." She quickly told him. "But you didn't hear."
"Slayer." Djoser couldn't hide the relief he was feeling. Demons had a knack of being able to smell out the weak and injured. He had half expected a company of hostile demons who, sensing a wounded vampire, had come for the kill.
"Hey, Buffy." Lifting his head, Spike made an effort to sound normal. Being sick in front of the Slayer was humiliating. "Still pissed off at your mates?"
"I am not pissed off at anyone" Pausing, Buffy realized that her lie did not sound real convincing. "They thought I was suffering in some hell dimension, so they saved me. They care. My friends care. It's just that. . . ." She struggled to put her feelings into words. "It seems like they're caring too much."
Too exhausted to keep his head up, Spike let it fall back down. "Don't think I followed you around that bend, luv."
"It's like. . . ." She groped for an explanation that would be semi reasonable. "I don't know. I just feel like I'm spending all of my time trying to be okay, so they don't worry. It's exhausting. And then. . . ."
"They just worry even more." On his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the perceptive vampire felt her frustration.
"Yeah." Smiling sadly, Buffy wondered how it was possible that two vampires understood her better than her Watcher and human friends. "Anyway, I came back because I just received a message. . .a message from Angel." Looking both at Djoser and Spike, she studied their reactions. "I'm supposed to call him. Someone told Cordelia about me being back, and. . . ."
"Don't you DARE tell Him that we're here!" Anger gave Spike the strength to lift his head up again. "Not that. . . ." He remembered Angel's indifference. "The bloody High Poofster gives a rat's arse about us anyway, but still. . . ."
"Listen." Buffy cut him off. "What if I went and met with him privately? Explained to him face to face about Darla and her plots. I'll make him pay attention, because I don't believe that he truly doesn't care about you. He's just. . .just unaware of what's going on."
"His unawareness has been going on for more than two hundred years now." Djoser stated quietly. "And we, his Childer, have suffered for it." Eyes narrowing, he stared at Buffy suspiciously. "Why are you so concerned if we reunite with our Sire? Thought you agreed that we could be some help to you here."
Sighing, Buffy sat down on a nearby packing crate. "I can't do this! My own life is. . .is. . . ." The word shambles stuck in her throat. "And you two being here just complicates everything. Giles just told me how the Council and the Ventrues have come to some kind of an agreement. They don't see Judelin and his Clan as a threat. The Council says. . . ."
"They're fools, Slayer." Djoser's body was motionless, but even so, his intensity was palpable. "Judelin takes over the other vampire clans, and now is just going to meekly submit to your Council? He's a wise, old vampire whose patience is infinite. He's been waiting for this opportunity, and now he's taking it."
"Waiting for his opportunity to do what?" Standing up, Buffy stepped closer to the vampire. "And I didn't say he was going to submit to the Council. I said that he and the Council have come to an agreement."
"Your Council is made up of pompous humans who can't see beyond their own egos." Djoser's tone was contemptuous. "They believe that they can control Judelin, but no one controls a Pure Blood, High Master like him. Don't underestimate him like your Council." He warned Buffy. "My GrandSire, Heinrich Nest feared no one. . .no one except Judelin, The Ventrue High Master."
**
Germany, 1810
"Ah, my favorite GrandChilde." Sitting on his throne, Heinrich Nest watched the young vampire kneel before him. "I just sent your Sire to begin important negotiations with our most dangerous enemy, the Ventrues. While he is gone, you will stay here at Court with me. I will protect and see to your training until Angelus returns."
"GrandSire." Still bending down, Djoser leaned forward to take Nest's hand and kiss it. "I am honored to be here with you."
"Stand, Childe. Let me look at you." Heinrich ordered while scrutinizing the young vampire. "I would like more of your company, but your Sire finds many excuses to keep you all to himself. Why is that? Do you know?"
Standing ramrod straight, Djoser met his GrandSire's eyes. "I do not know." It was not a direct lie, as Angel had never discussed why he limited Djoser's time at Court to only the most necessary, but the young vampire had his suspicions.
"You are a beauty." The master vampire could barely keep the delight out of his voice. "Your Sire, a most vicious creature, has been one of the true pleasures of my existence. And that he, Angelus, blood of my blood has produced such a glorious Childe. . .well, it proves that our Bloodline is strong. Stronger even that that of. . . of. . . ." Breaking off, Heinrich stood up, turning away, pretending to look at a portrait on the far wall.
"Of whom?" Djoser couldn't help but ask when he realized that his GrandSire was not going to say more.
"Of him." The master vampire hissed out. "Judelin, the Ventrue High Master. My old enemy."
"The High Master who my Sire is having negotiations with?" Very protective of his Father, Djoser said this with some alarm.
"Do not worry, Childe." Heinrich turned back to Djoser, a reassuring smile on his face. "I gave Angelus specific instructions on what to watch for with Judelin. Your Sire is a smart boy. He will not fail me. And also, he is accompanied by your uncle Damon and one of my most faithful servants, Luke. Judelin would be a fool to try anything with those three. And believe me, Judelin is anything but a fool."
Like Angel a short time before, Djoser caught a hint of fear in Heinrich's voice when speaking about the Ventrue High Master. "This Judelin sounds. . . ." He carefully chose his words, so not to offend his GrandSire. "Like a formidable enemy."
"He is a very old, very powerful vampire." Nest used the same words to describe Judelin as he had with Angel. "He has experienced much in the lifetimes he has existed. His experience makes him dangerous. He likes to portray a deferential front to all his enemies, lulling them to believe he presents no danger. But trust me Childe when I say to you, he can be a most treacherous enemy. Never underestimate him."
**
Los Angeles, October 2001
"I can't believe that you're running off to see an old girlfriend while I'm sitting here in this. . . ." A very pregnant Darla motioned to her enormous stomach. "This condition."
"I'm not running off." Putting on his duster, Angel also grabbed a weapon. Although he was only meeting the Slayer, it never hurt to be extra careful nowadays, especially with what was happening with the Ventrues. "I need to speak with Buffy face-to-face. I need. . . ."
"Need to see your true love. Need to touch her to reassure yourself that she's alive again." Darla hid her hurt using a tone of sarcasm and derision.
Turning to face her, Angel held his temper. Making people lose control was one of the methods Darla used to manipulate, and he refused to have his strings pulled by her. "Yes, I would like to see for myself that Buffy is alive and well, but that's all. I loved her once, or thought I loved her, but that was a different time. I was a different person then."
"A different person?" Darla arched an eyebrow. "Oh, but of course. At that time you were a souled, spineless, sorry excuse for a vampire and a man. So pathetic that the only relationship you could handle was one with a teenage. A two hundred forty plus man screwing a high school girl."
"That's enough!" Good intentions forgotten, Angel felt his restraint slipping.
"Oh, but I don't think it is." The vampiress taunted him as she gave him a push. "A vampire cursed with a soul, atoning for his sins. That's how you atoned for them, falling into bed with the virgin Slayer, while forgetting your responsibilities to your family, your Bloodline? Trying to be such a moral man, but those acts weren't moral."
Standing stock still, Angel could say nothing. Darla had stripped away all pretenses, revealing the ugly truth. "You're right." He told her softly. "I've not only sinned against humans, but I've sinned against my only family, my blood. There is no redemption for one such as I."
Darla had won the argument but she felt no victory. "Don't go and see her." She pleaded. "Pretend for now that I'm the important one in your life. That I'm the only one who matters."
"Darla." Now understanding that the argument had been born from jealousy, Angel took the vampiress in his arms. "You are the only one who matters to me now. You and. . . ." He gently caressed her bulging stomach. "The baby. I'll call Buffy and explain to her that something came up, and I won't be able to meet her." Burying his face in Darla's soft hair, he held her tightly and dismissed the inner voices that had urged him to see the Slayer. Voices that had whispered that it was important that he meet with her.
****
Part 5
Sunnydale, October 2001
Closing his eyes, Spike enjoyed the feel of the cool cloth running down his body. "I think the worst is over." He told his brother who was washing him down for a second time. "You can release me now."
"Praise the gods." Djoser muttered in relief as he threw the damp rag on the bed stand and bent down to untie the straps.
"Your blood heals me just as well as. . .His does." Spike spat the word his out. "Guess we really don't need that poncy pillow biter."
"My blood isn't curing you." Straps untied, Djoser sat on the bed, slowly wrapping them around his fist. "You know that, don't you? It's only maintaining you. You're not right, and you can drink my blood until the apocalypse, but. . . ."
"And your point is?" Eyes quickly opening, Spike gave his brother a questioning look.
"Perhaps our Sire will listen to Buffy. She is the Slayer after all." Leaning over, Djoser ran a gentle hand down Spike's naked chest, reassuring himself again that the fever was indeed broken. "And if he hears her, perhaps we can. . . ." He paused a moment as his eyes met those of his brother's. "Go home again."
"I can't believe my frigging ears." Spike made a conscious effort to stop himself from feeling any kind of hope. "Weren't you the one who said he'd never listen to our side, that he'd always continue to believe Darla's lies? And that as long as he believes her, we're in danger? Never figured you for one to be indecisive. What caused this change of heart?"
"You." Standing up, Djoser threw the leather straps on the floor. "Last year when I brought you to Sunnydale, you were ill and in need of our Sire. I ignored that need, and you almost died. I don't want to make that same mistake twice."
"I was the one who decided not to go back with Him, even though I was ill. It wasn't you mate. You're not responsible for me." Eyes still closed, Spike wanted to reassure Djoser. His brother had no reason to feel guilty.
"But you're wrong, Will." Unbuttoning his shirt, Djoser began undressing. "I've been bound to you, since you were born. I felt your birth even though I was not there." Clothes off, he slid into bed alongside his brother. "You were created from our Sire's loins, but in spirit you've been more my Childe than His."
**
England, 1860
Despite the danger of running into Penn and Lucien, William wandered around the mansion, trying to find out any information about his absent Master. Not hearing anything useful inside, he went out to the stables. There, the young vampire picked up a currycomb, making a pretense of brushing down a horse while trying to tune his ears to the whisperings of the minions. Seeing him, the minions immediately stopped their gossip. Although William had no formal rank in the household, everyone knew he was more than a common minion.
Hearing only silence, William heaved a quiet sigh. It was maddening. He had no standing within the ranked members of the family, yet he was not accepted by the minions either. Dropping the currycomb, his frustration turned to anger, as he approached the minions, attitude belligerent. "I need ter know sumthing, and yer gits are gonna tell me."
"My. . . ." Stepping up, one of the minions began to speak to William, but not knowing how to address the young vampire, he stopped and exchanged puzzled looks with the other minions. "And wot can we do for yer?"
"I want. . . ." Pausing a moment, William realized how humiliating it was for him to have to ask the minions where Angelus was. But he had to know. "Where's our Master?"
Seeing William's embarrassment, the vampires exchanged smirks. Demon or human, inferiors always liked to see their betters shamed. "I dinnah 'ave a clue, but. . . ." The minion began but was cut off as William grabbed him around the throat.
"I don't like your attitude, mate." Tone and speech changing, as William's pride took over. "Tell your mates to wipe those grins off their faces, or I'll wipe them. . . ."
"What the hell is going on here?" Entering the stables, Djoser had been searching the mansion and the grounds for his younger brother.
Throwing the minion down to the ground, William turned to face the Master's heir. "Nuthin', just 'avin' a mately conversation."
A quick examination told Djoser nothing, but he was no fool. Grabbing William by the back of his clothes, he pulled the younger vampire with him, while barking at the minions to finish cleaning the stable.
"Wotch the shirt!" Flailing around, William tried to escape Djoser's grasp.
"You are such a fool!" Stopping, Djoser kept a tight grip on his brother. "You know that when the Master is not here, Lucien and Penn torment you. So why are you wandering around outside, presenting them with such an easy target?"
"Was just. . . ." William realized he had no excuse for his stupidity. "Just tryin' ter find out where the Master is." He finally admitted with some embarrassment.
Releasing William, Djoser sensed his younger brother's longing. When their Sire was gone, it always felt like a part of them was missing. "He's in London. . . ." He prevaricated. "On business."
"Wot sort of business?" Eyes narrowing, William looked suspiciously at Djoser.
"I'll answer your question when you can ask it in a language I understand." Using William's native accent as an excuse to change the subject, the older vampire began to walk back to the house.
"Poof." William couldn't help but mumble as the two made their way back to the mansion, when out of the darkness a lean figure suddenly appeared.
"So you found him?" The vampire Ramose gave William a long, hard look. "Good, because Penn and Lucien are now out looking for trouble."
Muttering curses against the two sired Childer of Angelus, Djoser led the way into the mansion. "You will come and stay in my room until the Master returns." He told William in a rigid tone. "And you won't leave, until I tell you."
"Right, mate." William agreed quickly. Djoser was his only protection against Penn and Lucien when Angelus was gone. "And the Master?" He asked tentatively.
Leading the way up the stairs, Djoser turned slightly, first looking at Ramose, before answering. "He probably won't be back for some time. A new woman has caught his attention. Darla pointed her out to him a couple of weeks ago in London. He's been obsessed with her ever since."
"I heard she's special, has the sight." Ramose added. "When he returns, I don't doubt that he'll have her with him. His new Childe."
"Another Childe!" Djoser groaned. "Another Childe that he'll soon tire of and that I will have to care of."
With a heavy heart, William silently followed Djoser into the older vampire's bedroom. First brushed aside by his Sire, and now the cold, hard truth that his brother, the only one in his family who had shown him some bit of kindness, found him a burden.
**
Sunnydale, October 2001
Sitting on the sarcophagus in the vampire's crypt, Buffy quickly downed the shot glass of whiskey. Shaking her head, she couldn't help but pull a face as the alcohol burned down her throat. "Blaahh!"
Exchanging smirks, Djoser and Spike followed her lead, slamming down their shots of whiskey.
"Life is stupid." She muttered, thinking back on the horrible day she just had.
"And sometimes unlife isn't any better." One leg over the arm, Spike slouched back into his chair. Neck wound still painful, he felt tired and drained.
"Yeah, life and unlife sucks. . .err, that's probably not the word I should have used." Buffy held her shot glass out, signaling that Djoser should pour her another. "Anyway, just to let you know, I never ended up meeting with Angel. He called up at the last minute and cancelled. Said he couldn't leave LA."
"Did you tell him about us?" Spike asked, his body tensing at the mention of his Sire's name.
"I-I thought about it." Buffy admitted, still holding her shot glass up. "But he. . .he just said he couldn't come and then hung up. Never really gave me a chance to say anything." Shrugging her shoulders, she tried to act indifferent to her ex-boyfriend's dismissal of her, but inside the rebuff still stung. "Ah hum." Clearing her throat loudly, she waved her glass in front of Djoser. "Need a refill here."
"You sure you want another one?" Djoser questioned her. "Thought you wanted to do a patrol."
"A patrol? So someone can do more stuff to me? Conjure up new illusionary demons or make time stop and start again. Forget it." She watched as the vampire poured her some more whiskey. "I'd rather stay here and drink. . .fortify myself for tomorrow and my new career, retail at The Magic Box."
"You know, I don't get it." Head rested against the back of the chair, Spike gave Buffy a curious look. "You're the Slayer. You slay demons and bad guys for Mr. Watcher and The Council. In exchange, shouldn't they be paying you a ton of money? Why the bleeding hell do you have to work as shop girl too?"
"Giles just gave me a big check. Paid for new pipes and all my outstanding bills, but I still need some kind of income. And since I'm too dumb for college, and too strong for construction work. . .well, that leaves my only other choice. . .retail." Buffy shuddered, as the whiskey ran down her throat. "Blaahh."
"Frigging Giles!" Spike held up his shot glass for a fill up. "Gets a Slayer and a shop girl all rolled into one, for bloody minimum wage."
"You know Slayer, there is another option." Djoser stood up to refill both Spike's and Buffy's glasses. "Take out a couple of drug dealers. Steal their money, and both yours and our financial problems are over."
"You call that an option? You have had so too much to drink at this point, and I'm cutting you off." Drinking her third shot, her speech was beginning to slur.
"Slay. . . ." Djoser wanted to push his point some more, but Buffy wouldn't hear any more.
"No humans! That was the agreement. Now. . . ." She again held up her shot glass. "How about one for the road?"
**
"Do you mind if we walk?" Slightly tipsy, Buffy was blinking her eyes, trying to make the world around her stop spinning. "The fresh air might make me feel better."
"Feeling ill, Slayer?" Djoser asked, managing to keep a straight face.
"If everything doesn't stop whirling soon, I'm going to hurl my dinner." She proclaimed while stumbling her way through the cemetery.
Stopping, Djoser let Buffy walk ahead of him. If the Slayer was going to start vomiting, he wanted to have some space between them.
"Sucky night. Sucky day. Sucky life." Buffy grumbled as she found her way out of the graveyard, not noticing that Djoser was following her at a discreet distance. "My whole life is just one suckfe. . . ." Stopping suddenly, she noticed a black van parked ahead on the street. "That van."
"What about it?" Catching up to Buffy, Djoser made sure he didn't stand too close to her.
"I've seen it before." Starting to walk again, she slowly approached the van. "It was at the construction site this morning."
"There's probably a lot of black vans here in Sunny. . . ." Djoser broke off as a large, red demon jumped out from behind the van.
Hands on hips, the demon growled fiercely. "You have discovered me! But do not try to defeat me, for I have been testing you and I know your weaknesses. Ha ha ha."
"Okay." Buffy tried to focus her eyes on the enemy. "Know what kind of demon that is? Where should I hit him?" She asked Djoser.
"Never seen anything like that in my existence." The vampire couldn't believe that he was seeing a red demon with horns and wings. "Looks like the devil with angel wings."
The van starting up caught everyone's attention. The demon couldn't help but look dismayed as it began to drive away. Seeing him distracted, Buffy took the opportunity to attack. Alcohol affecting her coordination, her round house right missed, but her second attempt, a kick to the groin connected, causing him to double down in pain and her to lose her balance and fall to the pavement. Helping Buffy to her feet kept Djoser from immediately attacking, so the demon had time to maneuver his escape.
"I am well struck!" He announced. "I call on the misty portal to my demon dimension, where I will lay my head and gently die." Raising an arm, he threw something unknown on the ground, causing a shower of sparks and a cloud of smoke, which camouflaged his getaway.
Coughing and waving the smoke away, Buffy turned to Djoser. "Did you see that? He blew up."
"Yes." Peering into the darkness, Djoser swore he saw a short figure dressed only in a pair of jockey shorts running down the street. "I saw. He's gone."
Buffy too was staring into the darkness, but still half-drunk, she saw nothing unusual. "Gotta love it, you know." She shrugged with puzzlement. "One kick and he blows up. Makes me feel all-powerful. Strong and. . . ." Turning quickly away as her churning stomach finally got the best of her. "And kinda sick."
She managed to make it over to some bushes before losing her dinner.
**
"Mate, you are a life or should I say unlife saver." Opening the door, Spike welcomed his new friend Clem into the crypt.
"Not a problem." Clem entered the vampire lair, carrying a couple bags of snacks and rented videos.
"Still not myself. Feel too gippy to leave the crypt and my brother. . . ." Spike was happily pulling out the bags of junk food. "My brother doesn't approve of human food. Git doesn't know what he's missing." He muttered the last part more to himself.
"I need to ask you about him." Clem was enjoying his new friendship with the vampire, but he still wondered about Spike's 'mark.' "Now I've been thinking. You call Djoser brother, and he carries the mark of a Blood-Childe, so if the two of you are brothers, then you too must be a Blood-Childe. And where is his father because there's always talk among the demons here about a Bloodline vampire who used to make his home in Sunnydale. A vamp named Angelus. He wouldn't be by chance Djoser's. . . ?"
"His old man is dead." Spike lied quickly. "Dusted by that traitor Snow." Concentrating on ripping open a bag of cheetos, he wouldn't look at Clem. "And we call each other brothers, cause I was 'made' by his father."
"So your Sire was a Bloodline vampire? That's impressive." Clem mulled that fact over for a moment. "Now, Djoser isn't your Sire, is he? Because he acts like he is."
"Nah, he's just my brother, but he does take care of me. Has for a long time." Spike popped a couple of cheetos in his mouth. "So what kind of flicks did you rent us?"
"Rented different kinds, so you could have your pick." Looking around the crypt, Clem had one more reservation. "Speaking of your brother, is he around?" The loose skin demon was more than a little frightened by Djoser and hoped that the dark vampire was not in residence.
"Took the Slayer home because she had a few." Spike was now checking out the videos that Clem had brought. "Girl just can't hold her booze." He shook his head sadly at Buffy's inability to imbibe large quantities of alcohol.
"So we've got the place to ourselves." Clem smiled in relief. "Cool!"
**
"Fast forward through this. Don't care to watch all of this crap." Waving his hand at the television set, Spike wasn't interested in the commercials and previews.
"So how much longer do you think your brother will be gone?" Pushing the fast forward button on the remote control, Clem had already sat through one video and was starting to get antsy to leave. The less he saw of Djoser, the better.
"If he had his way, the whole night." Spike couldn't help the wicked grin that crossed his face. "He's got the hots for the Slayer, so I'm thinking he's going to stretch it out as long as possible."
"He likes the Slayer!" Clem was flabbergasted. "But he's a vampire, and she's. . .she's the Slayer."
"Yeah, go figure." Eyes glued to the fast forwarding video, Spike couldn't help but mumble. "Like Father, like son."
"What?" Clem heard what the vampire had said but didn't understand.
"Nothing. There. . . ." He pointed to the TV. "Hit the play button."
Hitting the play and then the pause, Clem still wanted to know what Spike had said. "What did you mean, like father, like son?"
"Nothing to concern yourself about, mate." Turning to look at the other demon, Spike realized he had said too much. His new friend still had his suspicions about him and Djoser. "By the way." He quickly changed the subject. "I've been wanting to ask your advice on something. Me and my brother are running low on funds. Know anyway we can make a quick packet?"
Flattered that the vampire would ask his advice about anything, Clem thought carefully. "I don't know anything specific, but I do know of a guy in town. He's a dealer, calls himself the Doctor. Guess he has odd jobs for anyone looking for a quick buck. Want me to introduce you to him?"
****
Author's Note: After writing this part, I realized that I was not following
the laws of physiology. Loss of blood would have a negative affect on being
able to have an erection. But after considering it for a while, I decided that
vampires aren't subject to the same laws of physiology that humans are. . .err
maybe I'm thinking about this too much. <g>
Part 6
Sitting on the floor, head resting on the seat of a chair, Spike had fallen asleep in front of the television. The sound of the front door banging open woke him with a start.
"Were you asleep?" Stepping down into the crypt, Djoser was surprised. His brother was not one to sleep during the night.
"Was, until you and that herd of elephants came stomping in here." Spike griped, noticing that Clem was no longer present. "What are you doing home so early?" He asked between yawns. "Thought you and Buffy were going to make it a night."
"A night of what? Me watching her be ill?" Although slightly disappointed that no progress was made in the 'relationship' department, Djoser wasn't totally dissatisfied with how the evening had turned out. It wasn't every day that one got to see the Slayer in the undignified position of being on her hands and knees, retching her guts out.
"Being sick? You can't mean. . .she didn't drink that much?" Spike was dumbfounded. He couldn't imagine anyone having to throw up after drinking a measly four shots.
"Well, now we know the Slayer's weak point. Ply her with alcohol, and she'd be ours for the taking." Smiling over at his brother, Djoser was busy picking up empty bags, bottles, and discarded wrappers.
"Couldn't have told me that a few years ago." Grumbling, Spike struggled to stand. "Would have bought her a couple of drinks at the Bronze, and my troubles would have been over. . .hey, leave that shit. It's my mess; I'll clean it up."
"Go to bed." Looking over his shoulder, Djoser dumped a handful of trash in a wastebasket. "You're still unwell."
"Come with me." Spike tried to sound commanding, but failed miserably as everything he said was punctuated by yawns. " I'll scrub this place up tomorrow."
"Just go!" Djoser couldn't stand the thought of going to bed with such untidiness.
"Can't leave a little clutter? You're just like *Him*, you know, an anal retentive poof." Turning his back to his brother, Spike began a slow shuffle to the bed, sly smile on his face. He knew his insult would have an effect.
Standing up quickly, the dark vampire dropped the garbage in his hands back on the floor. "Stop saying that!" Following Spike, he was half angry, half worried. "I'm NOTHING like Him!"
**
Walking back from the kitchen, Giles returned with a glass of water. "Feeling any better?" He asked Buffy, handing it to her.
Sitting on the couch, Buffy looked pale and pitiful. "You know, I think there was a point when I actually turned completely inside out." Taking the water, she took a sip. "But yeah, better."
"So explain to me again." Taking off his glasses, Giles held them loosely in his right hand. "You were drinking with Spike and Djoser in their crypt, and afterward when you were walking home some unknown demon attacked you. It was red with horns and wings?"
"Err. . .yeah, that's pretty much how he looked." Wincing a little, Buffy didn't doubt that Giles thought a red demon with horns and wings was a figment of an alcoholic imagination. "I kicked him, and then he. . .blew up." She trailed off meekly, realizing that what she was saying sounded like the ravings of a drunk.
"He blew up?" Giles' question made Buffy wince again.
"You know. . . ." A thought occurred to her. "Djoser was there. He saw the whole thing. Ask him, and he'll confirm what I'm telling you."
"Buffy." Just saying her name, the Council Watcher was able to convey a quiet reprimand. "I don't need to verify what you told me. I'm just trying to get all the facts. I'm not familiar with the demon you just described. I'll need to research this, but let me ask you." Giles had not missed the fact that Djoser's name had come up a couple times in their conversation. "Was Djoser familiar with this. . .red demon at all?"
"No, he said he'd never seen anything like it." Looking up at her Watcher, Buffy didn't miss his intent stare but misinterpreted it. "He was telling the truth. He had no reason to lie about the demon."
"I don't doubt that he was telling the truth." Putting his glasses back on, Giles sat down in a chair, remembering all his suspicions about the warrior vampire. "So you say that Djoser and Spike ran away from Angel because Darla was threatening their. . .their lives. And what exactly are their intentions? Are they planning to stay here in Sunnydale? Because I would think that here would be the first place Angel would look for them."
"Err. . .they've actually been gone from Angel for some months now. Didn't I mention that?" Frowning, Buffy tried to remember what she had exactly told Giles, but it was hard to think with the throbbing in her head. "Which only proves that Angel doesn't seem to care about them. He hasn't made much of an effort to get them back."
"For some months now?" Giles was puzzled. Pondering over the information, he thought out loud. "But they're his Blood-Childer, and Blood-Childer are always cared for and protected. . .especially now. How strange."
"Now?" Buffy interrupted his musings.
"Yes. Yes." Turning back to Buffy, Giles had been remembering conversations he had had with the Council back in England. "Elder Snow and. . .and the Council were fairly successful in their attempt to eliminate all Bloodline vampires. The estimate is that at least two thirds of them were destroyed, which of course means that the ones remaining are now even more valuable. So valuable that Judelin, the Ventrue High Master, has demanded that the Council consider all Bloodline vampires to be protected. They are not to be killed."
"Not to be killed?" Buffy couldn't help but give Giles a you've-got-to-be-kidding look. "So if I'm fighting a vamp, and I notice a Bloodline mark, I'm suppose to what? Say, oh sorry, my mistake, you're a protected vamp, and let him walk away?"
"Judelin has demanded this as part of a treaty, but nothing has been totally agreed upon yet."
Sighing, Buffy stood up. "I can't make any sense out of anything right now. I need an aspirin and bed. You will research that demon, won't you?"
"Of course." Standing up as well, Giles watched her head for the staircase. "I'll get right on it. Good night, Buffy." He muttered after her softly. Turning to gather his books, the Watcher couldn't help but puzzle over the odd situation with Angel and his Blood-Childer. He wondered if he should talk to someone in the Council about it.
**
Waking up the next day, Spike's vampiric inner clock sensed the beginning of sunset. "Damn!" He whispered softly to himself. "Slept the whole frigging day away. I'm missing my shows. . .hey!" He tried to move out of the strong arms and legs that imprisoned him. "Djoser! Wake the fuck up. 'Passions' is over, but I can still catch. . . ."
"Will you lie still!" The rude awakening put the dark vampire in a bad mood. "The sun's not yet set. We're vampires, and vampires don't get out of bed until it's nighttime."
"We've been in this bed more than twelve hours now. My arse has bedsores on it." Spike struggled to break Djoser's hold. "You want to sleep your unlife away, that's fine with me, but I've got things to do, places to be, telly to watch."
"William!" Djoser tightened his hold on his brother. "Just lie here with me a few minutes longer."
The request was more of a plea, and it immediately stopped Spike's struggles. "What's wrong?" He didn't remember Djoser ever asking him for anything.
A grunt was the only answer given, as Spike turned his head to see his brother, now relaxed, eyes closed. "Hey." He poked Djoser with his elbow. "Talk to me. What's the problem?"
"What are we doing, William?" The vampire whispered. "Living in a crypt in Sunnydale. Asking the Slayer for sanctuary. That's not how vampires live, especially us, Blood-Childer of Angelus, descendants of Heinrich Nest. This is madness."
"And this surprises you?" Twisting his body, Spiked faced his brother. "We've lived in madness most of our. . .well, I have for most of my existence. What about you?"
"My life and then my unlife were orderly, until. . . ." Pulling himself away from his brother, Djoser turned onto his back. "Until the gypsies."
"I think your memory's gone bad, pet." Sitting up, Spike looked down at Djoser. "Even before the gypsies, our unlives were shaky. Remember being ostracized from the Clan? Remember trying to keep the household together while *He* was flitting around Europe with Darla?" Lying back down again, his shoulder touched his brother's. "I think madness is our normal way of life."
Reaching over, Djoser stroked Spike's cheek gently. "You're right. My memory is faulty. Our Sire was never a paragon of stability, but when he was exiled . . . ." He stopped abruptly, remembering that his brother had been the reason for their banishment.
"He became even more loony?" Spike helpfully finished Djoser's sentence.
"Yes." Djoser couldn't help but let out a short laugh. For the moment his brother made him forget all the black doubts that plagued him. "Did you know?" He asked, head now propped up on a bent elbow. "That I thank the gods that our Father had you. Without you now, I would be lost."
Wordless with surprise, Spike could only stare at Djoser. He never expected such a speech to fall from his brother's lips.
"You're the only family I have left. Everyone else is dead." The images of his deceased family members flashed through his mind: Ramose, Nic, Anton, Luc, Iltik, Victor, and even the departed High Master, Heinrich Nest. "And our Sire. He might as well be dead for all the good He ever did us." Bitterness tinged Djoser's voice.
Starting with a hard chest, Spike ran his hand over Djoser's body. "Is no one else left? You think that our uncle Damon is also dead?"
"Probably. The Ventrues most likely got to him too." Rolling up, Djoser held himself above Spike. "Do you want to eat? You didn't eat anything earlier."
"Is that all you can ask me? I swear you sound just like the Po. . .Him." Voice lowering to a whisper as Spike realized that telling Djoser he was similar to Angel was no longer humorous.
Taking no offense, Djoser just smiled. "We ask you that because you don't eat what you're suppose to. You never feed properly, just always eating that human garbage. No wonder you're always sick." Tilting his head, he offered his neck to Spike. "Take my blood, my brother. It's the same as yours, of the Bloodline. It will make you stronger."
**
Northern California, October 2001
"Sire." The fledgling vampire approached his father. "The scouts have returned. They say that our quarry has fled into Nevada."
"The hunters have become the hunted." The vampire Damon mumbled softly. Turning, he eyed his son affectionately. "Then we too will go to Nevada."
"And what of our High Master?" The young vampire who in life had gone by the name Christian shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Although only six months as a vampire, he knew that they were guilty of a serious breech of protocol by not reporting to their High Master that they had returned from Germany.
"Angelus has reunited with Darla. I don't trust her; I never have. I want to find out what she's up to before I go back to LA. In the meantime. . . ." A serious man, Damon did not smile often, but he couldn't help a small grin at his only Blood-Childe. "I can take out that bastard, vampire hunter Hawkins. As long as he lives, I fear for you, my Childe, and as your Sire, it is my duty to assure your safety. Hawkins must die, and I will see that he dies an ugly death."
"Won't Angelus be angry that we didn't at least tell him we've returned?"
"Possibly." Damon looked away, shrugging his shoulders. "But if he truly is back with Darla, then perhaps a change of allegiance is called for. My Sire forced me to bow down to her years ago, but he's dead. And there is no one on this earth, including Angelus, who can make me bow down to her again."
**
Fangs and fingers digging into Djoser's cool flesh, Spike held onto his brother tightly. The dark, rich blood flowed into his mouth, warming and nourishing him. Drinking deeply, the vampire pressed his body closer, using his weight to flip himself over on top. Rocking his hips, he rubbed their groins together. Pleasurable sensations ran from his cock to his brain and from his fangs to his brain, producing an euphoric high that ended all too soon when his brother's voice commanded him to stop. Reluctantly he withdrew his fangs from the bleeding artery but continued lapping at the blood until the flow stopped, and the wound began to heal over.
"First you don't feed, and then you almost drink me into a coma." Djoser whispered this into Spike's ear who was still nuzzling his neck. "Everything with you is always to an extreme."
"Never do something half-arsed is my motto." Raising his head, familial blood still coated his tongue and lips. "And since I can feel that I've started something. . . ." Spike once again rocked his hips, feeling Djoser stiffen against him. "I better practice what I preach and finish it."
Pulling a pillow partially over his face, Djoser groaned. "You've already drained me. I can barely move. I'm not up to any. . . ."
"Hate to break this to you, but you're up, mate." Grinning wickedly, Spike began to kiss and nip his way down the body under him. "Don't move. Just lie there, and I'll take care of you."
"You don't need to take care of . . . ." Brain disconnecting as Djoser felt his cock gripped firmly, and a cool tongue running around the crown and then flicking at the frenulum, the Y shaped web of skin on the underside of the head. "Ohhh, fuck." He groaned, stretching his arms above his head.
Tasting precum, Spike took just the cockhead in his mouth, sucking gently. Feeling the body beneath him begin to buck, he backed off, once again just using his tongue, prolonging the sensual torture.
"Goddamn!" The need to thrust was overwhelming, and Djoser couldn't help but grab Spike by the head, while pushing up with his hips.
"Have you no self-control?" Spike teased before giving in and taking the full length of Djoser's cock in his mouth.
A cool wetness engulfed him as Djoser slid in across a tongue to a back of a throat. Mouth and throat muscles tightened around him causing him to groan again, as he thrust up and down, his fingers clutching at Spike's hair and scalp.
Spike increased his suction, massaging the base of Djoser's cock with one hand, while fondling his balls with the other. Another moment or two, and he felt the body beneath him tense and the balls in his hand throb.
Djoser could feel his orgasm beginning. Hips raised off the bed, he thrust himself in as far as he could, feeling his cum boiling in his testicles, and then passing through and spewing out into the cool mouth that surrounded him. For a moment all troubles were forgotten as he lost himself in his sexual release.
Licking Djoser's cock clean, Spike was also contented. It gave him pleasure to relax his uptight brother. "You're breathing, pet. Guess you're not such a perfect vampire after all."
"I DO NOT bre. . . ." Djoser immediately began to argue, when he realized that indeed his chest was moving up and down with unnecessary breaths.
"You don't what?" Moving off his brother, Spike flopped down on the bed. "I didn't quite catch what you said cause you're panting too hard."
"You are. . . ." Djoser gasped out. "Such a fucking smart-ass."
Lying on his back, Spike stared up at the ceiling. "I think you've been living with me too long now. You're starting to have my foul mouth." He grinned widely. " Pretty soon, people will be saying how much alike we are."
****