"Sire, we failed you," Daria choked out.  "We couldn't stop him." She tried to slide over to him but Angel had one hand wrapped around her tangled hair and he tightened his grip, dragging her head back to his knee.

"Angel," Spike began, his voice even yet submissive.  "Please, let her go.  She's done nothing."

"She's lovely, Spike.  Blonde. Not a surprise there, is it."  Angel's glittering eyes held icy amusement.  "Fought like a tigress, and dirty, too.  Just like you."  His hand patted the vampiress' upturned cheek and her whimper of fear made Spike's heart clench in his chest.

"What do you want here, sire?"

"I should have put a stop to this weeks ago."  Angel glanced around the room at the gathered and silent vampires.  "You've made some impressive moves, risen step by step up the demonic ladder.  Just like I taught you.  You want to rule Sunnydale."

Spike started to shake his head, then swallowed again and dropped his eyes.  "I...don't know why I did it."  As he said the words, he knew they were a lie and hoped Angel wouldn't pursue it.

"Because it comes naturally.  We're meant to rule.  It's in our blood."  Angel set aside the goblet he held and leaned forward slightly.  "But I can't let you rule, Spike."

"How do you propose to stop me?"  The defiant query slipped from Spike's mouth before he could stop it and he mentally groaned as Angel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Easily."  The dark vampire spread his free arm wide to encompass the entire room.  "This is all mine now, mine to control."

"...What?"  Shocked, Spike took an instinctive step forward, but Daria's cry of pain as Angel's hand tightened stopped him. "What the fuck are you going on about?"

"You are mine, right Spike?"

Spike scowled but slowly nodded.

"Thus everything that is yours is mine.  It's one of the oldest laws, boy, you know that."

"But, why would you want my clan?"

"Oh, I think you know why."

Buffy.  Spike managed to contain his groan, but slowly shook his head in dismay, his mind quickly turning over every option. Before he could begin to protest, Angel spoke again, his voice soft, almost gentle.

"I'm setting you free, Spike, free of all responsibilities."

"I'm a master vampire."

Angel nodded.  "That's something I can't take from you, but, all you need to be master of is yourself."

"This is nuts, Angel.  You don't want this responsibility.  You hate what you are.  You kill our people."

A low murmur ran through the crowd, and Spike bristled, his hands clenching into fists at his side.  "You'll kill my clan.  That's your plan, isn't it," he demanded harshly.

Angel's hand slipped from Daria's hair and she jerked her head up, scrambling away from the throne and the terrifying monster who sat upon it.  "I could probably do it over time, but that's not my plan.  There will be changes, compromises.  I'm not going to allow them to kill humans anymore."  The noise level in the room rose, but they ignored it.  "And we'll be leaving Sunnydale."

"What?"

"I'm thinking Los Angeles might fit me better.  I'll gradually disperse your clan amongst Aurelian allies, but if they obey me, none of them have to die."

Spike ignored the relief flowing through him.  He didn't feel particularly close to any of his minions, but that didn't mean he wanted to see them die needlessly.  "So you don't have any desire to rule?  To take control of Aurelius?"

"Hell no, and I doubt I'd survive the inevitable challenges.  The seat on the council will stay dormant as long as I live.  After my death, you can have it if you want.  Or Dru."  Angel's eyes narrowed craftily.  "Where *is* Drusilla, Spike?"

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Spike glowered at his sire. "Dunno."

Angel smirked and rose from his chair to address the minions. "Everyone go to bed.  We'll discuss the future tonight.  Anyone who tries to kill me will find themselves staked out for the next sunrise."  There was a loud scramble and the room emptied except for Angel, Spike and Daria.  The dark vampire's eyebrow arched towards the blonde vampiress who pulled herself to her feet and turned her back on him.  "The other two childer aren't yours."  It wasn't a question.

Spike shook his head.  "The male is broken, might as well be a minion.  The female, she's a crafty bitch, but not a fighter."

"Not like this one.  Did you turn her because of her resemblance?"

"I didn't turn her.  Daria was a minion of the first master I killed, but she had a spark.  I decided to make her my childe because I...wanted one.  I've never had a female childe."

"Because Dru wouldn't take it well, I remember."

Not wanting to talk about Drusilla, Spike turned his attention to the blonde vampiress who was looking from one vampire to the other with confused and pain-filled eyes.  "Go to bed, Daria," he said softly.

"No," Angel countered.  "Her fate needs to be decided now.  Her loyalty to you is unquestioned, but will she call me master?"

Daria stiffened and turned to look at Angel.  "If I must."

Angel nearly smiled at the strength in her--a proud reflection of her sire--but her rebellious nature, also gotten from Spike, could be a problem.  "You must.  I'll have your oath tonight."  He watched her give Spike a helpless look, saw Spike nod slowly, and then she turned to face him.

The oath was given in as grudging a fashion as she knew she could get away with, and Angel accepted it with grace as Spike smoldered, arms crossed, pout on his face.  When the formalities were over with, Daria went to Spike and placed her hand on his arm.

"It's not the way it works, pet," he said softly.

"I'll always be your childe first."

"As I'm his."  Spike nodded his head towards Angel.  "Go to bed. Everything will be okay."  He addressed Angel, "I want her to stay with you."

"Spike, I can't."  Angel shook his head.

"No other Aurelian would treat her right.  You know most of them.  Females are for bedding, they're not warriors," he mimicked.  "How we managed to the rule the vampire council for centuries is beyond me."

"Well, to be fair, the Master actually had other uses for females than simple bed mates or cannon fodder, and he ruled for half a millennia."

"Hideous old bat."

Angel snorted.  "True.  All right, I'll keep her with me for now, Spike."

Daria had listened to them deciding her fate for long enough and she spoke up sharply.  "I'll not be your bed mate.  I'm a fighter."

"Not to worry, luv.  He's a eunuch."

"I am not a eunuch," Angel stressed indignantly.

Laughing, Daria pressed a kiss to Spike's cheek and whispered, "thank you," before leaving the two males alone.

"She's like a female you," Angel groused.

Spike chuckled and snagged a wooden chair to straddle it backwards, facing Angel.  He lit a cigarette and drew on it deeply.  "I'm not going to thank you, you know."

Smiling, Angel nodded in acknowledgment.  "I'd lose all respect for you if you did."

"Since when did you ever respect me?" Spike replied lightly.

"You're supposed to be the bitter deposed one here."

"It's more bittersweet."  He sighed and took another drag on his cigarette.  "Shit, Angel, I can't believe you did this."

"It solves a lot of problems.  You're becoming too dangerous in this town.  It's only a matter of time before some of the more powerful clans formed an alliance to take you out.  More dangerous is Giles mounting  a charge to eliminate you.  I think that would destroy Buffy."

"He's not going to be happy, is he?"

"He never liked me all that much and I have a soul, and that was before Angelus.  "But he loves Buffy.  It helps that you have Joyce on your side.  What she sees in you, I don't know."

"You've never understood my charm with women."

Angel rolled his eyes and relaxed back in his seat.  "This is good all around.  I need to get away from Sunnydale.  I just don't have a place here anymore.  I can do some good in L.A."

"Plenty of demons there."

"And numerous Aurelian allies, the most in the States.   Once I've dispersed your clan, I can resume fighting the good fight."

"That's your purpose in life now?"

"It's a noble cause."

Spike snorted smoke from his nose and flicked away the butt of his cigarette.  "Don't expect me to do the noble thing."

Angel smiled and chuckled.  "Spike, being with Buffy will make you do things you never thought you'd do."

"No fucking kidding."

Buffy awoke feeling amazingly good.  No stiffness from the...event the night before, no headache or soreness from crying her eyes out.  A quick glance showed here Spike was gone, but that was to be expected as the sun was shining in her window.

Smiling to herself, relieved that everything was back on the right track, she bounced from the bed and took a quick shower, then dressed in a pretty Spring dress in pink and white stripes and white knee boots.  She headed downstairs and found her mother eating toast and reading the newspaper.

Joyce smiled at her daughter and then frowned at the boots. "White before Memorial Day?"

"Huh?" Buffy sailed past her to retrieve the juice from the refrigerator.  "Mom, it's California.  White is always in."

"...Spike spent the night."

Buffy stopped pouring juice into a glass and shot her mother a guilty look.  She didn't look mad.  "Um, yeah, I know we promised, but we had a fight and..."

"Spike explained it all to me.  Try not to make it a regular occurrence?" Joyce asked with a long-suffering sigh.

"Sure."  Amazed at how painless that had been, Buffy swigged her juice and grabbed a granola bar before heading out the door to school.

Arriving at Sunnydale High with time to spare, Buffy pushed open the library doors and found Giles with a book--what a shock--and Willow tapping away at her laptop.  "Hey."

Giles looked up blinking like a bat suddenly exposed to light. "Oh, Buffy.  Good, you're here.  I've discovered more about Feast of Devonnia."

"The what?"

He gave her a stern look and shook his head.  "I swear, Buffy, if it's not the latest fashion or pop hit, it leaves your brain as soon as it enters."

"Pop hit?" Buffy giggled in Willow's direction.  The redhead grinned back.

"The Feast of Devonnia.  I mentioned it yesterday morning."

"Oh...right, yesterday got kind of insane.  So, what's up on the eating?"

"It's a feast of forgiveness among vampires, usually given by a childe who has transgressed against its sire, but sometimes to make amends for other things.  There's a whole night of ritualistic slaughter, painting their bodies with blood, dancing on corpses, that sort of thing."

Buffy made a face.  "Ewww."

"It's rarely performed, as it tends to bring down a lot of attention. Usually only the most powerful vampires with the largest clans can get away with it.  There are a few cases of minor vampires holding the feast who have been killed by more powerful clans just for risking all of them."

"And you think Spike's going to do this why?"

"I don't know.  Have you consulted with Angel?"

"Um...no, but I don't think Spike's transwhatevered against Angel.  Mostly they avoid each other."

"I can't see any other reason for Spike to be building such a powerful clan so quickly.  He's never been known to play politics, and, in fact there are references to him going out of his way to avoid being an active clan member.  With the Master trapped and no other true leader of the Aurelians, he and Drusilla mostly went their own way for the past one hundred years."

Buffy frowned at the mention of Spike's former girlfriend, and, for the first time in a long time wondered where the dingbat was, but Giles' continued babbling about this feast quickly drew her away from those thoughts.

"Okay, okay, I'll talk to Angel and do some recon of Spike's lair to see what's up, but first I have to flunk an algebra test."

"I thought you were going to study last night after...you know, patrol," Willow chimed in.

"Patrol took longer than I expected," Buffy said with a shrug. "Help me cram for ten minutes?"

"Sure."  Willow gathered up her laptop and bookbag and the two girls headed for the stacks where Buffy proceeded to tell her best friend what had really happened the night before and no studying was done.

After dinner that night Buffy headed out to patrol and find Angel. Just as the sun was setting she made a quick pass through Restfield Cemetery, the one closest to the eastern edge of town, then walked the quick two blocks to the mansion.  It was probably too early for anyone but Angel to be stirring, so she'd talk to him first just so she could tell Giles she had, and then do a more serious patrol before looking for Spike.

A quiver of anticipation went through her and she shook her head in amazement that she wanted him so much.  Had it really only been the night before that everything had gone so wrong? Break-up and make-up in a dozen hours.  Must be a record. She smiled to herself and turned up the walkway to the mansion. Knocking, she waited a moment, then used her key to let herself inside.

It was dark and silent, but it was still early.  Dumping her bag on the credenza, she took the stairs two at a time, then went down the hallway to Angel's room.  The door was open and the room was empty.

Puzzled, Buffy called his name and waited a minute, then retraced her steps back down the stairs.  A quick search told her the house was empty.  Sighing in frustration, she turned to leave and the front door opened.

Angel stepped into the house and stopped when he saw her. "Buffy."

"Hey.  Bit early for you to be out.  You run out of blood or something?"

"Um, no."  Closing the door behind him, he gestured for her to proceed him into the living room, and switched on the lights as she did so.  "I'm glad you're here.  I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, me, too.  Giles is all freaked over something."  She plopped down into a chair and watched as he sat more precisely on the edge of the couch, hands on his knees.  "But that can wait."  She frowned and leaned forward slightly.  "What's up with you, Angel?  You look like you ran over my puppy."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.  He hadn't slept at all, not trusting any of his new clan not to try to stake him in his sleep.  And Spike had provided much alcohol as he informed his sire of how he and Buffy were back on the right track.  Much alcohol had been needed to deal with that, though Angel was relieved to see that Buffy looked happier than she had the night before.

"Angel?"

"Oh, right.  Well...What did Giles want?"

Rolling her eyes, Buffy capitulated for the moment.  "Fine.  Giles' stuff first.  There's some feast of Devon or something coming up and he's used graphs and charts to figure out that if Spike keeps building his clan at this rate it'll be huge by the time this feast thing comes around, so, naturally, my Watcher has linked the two."

Angel frowned and settled back against the cushions, crossing one leg over the other.  "He may be on to something.  That's a rarely held feast.  Too much of a danger of exposure."

"So he said.  Anything you can think of that Spike might need forgiveness for?"  At Angel's pointed look, she shook her head. "Nope, because he's already done what he needed to do where I'm concerned, plus I don't think he wants our relationship made public to his clan any more than I do."

"He wouldn't perform that ritual for me, any way, because he doesn't feel any guilt over anything he's done to me."  Angel shrugged.  "Giles' theory sounds rather farfetched, but I've never gotten a straight answer out of Spike about why he came back here and why he's been building a clan.  He and Dru went around for a hundred years never having more than a few minions.  Of course, there's Drusilla, too.  I can't get a straight answer out of him about her, either."

"Yeah, me neither."  Buffy frowned in growing suspicion.  "He's kind of known for his grand gestures, right?  Maybe this is about Dru."

"That's more likely, though, still, holding the Feast of Devonnia on the Hellmouth with the Slayer present is tantamount to suicide."

"Not if...not if the one holding the feast has neutralized the Slayer by seducing her," she whispered, suddenly horrified and thinking that everything Spike had said and done had been a lie.

"No, Buffy, don't think that," Angel replied quickly.  "Spike also wears his heart on his sleeve and he truly cares for you.  He's not distracting you with sex.  I wouldn't put it past him, but...no, I've talked to him and seen his real feelings for you."

"We made up last night.  God I hope you're right.  I don't think I could bear it if this was a lie."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but trust him and that he really wants to be with you."  At her waivery smile, he nodded and sighed softly.  "It's all rather moot, as he no longer has a clan."

"Huh?"

"It's where I've been.  I knew he was up to something with building the clan so fast, though the Feast of Devonnia hadn't crossed my mind.  I also knew you couldn't take him killing any longer, so I took the clan out of the equation."

"Again, huh?"

Angel smiled sadly.  "I took it from him.  Right of the sire, and as the nominal head of Aurelius."

Buffy gaped at him.  "Why?  Why would you do that?"

"Because I want you to be happy and his clan ties would just get in the way."

"You...you really believe I'll be happy with Spike?  You want that?"

"I want you to be happy," he reiterated.  "I believe you can be with him, even if it nearly guts me to say it."  He snorted lightly and shook his head.  "I don't know what it is with him."

"Me neither.  Don't think I haven't racked my brain trying to figure out what I see in him.  But, back to the clan thing.  What are you going to do with it?"

"Disperse it amongst Aurelian septs and allies.  I promised not to kill any of them."  He shrugged.  "They're under orders not to kill while we're in Sunnydale, but..."  He paused for a moment. "Buffy, I'm moving to Los Angeles."

"...What?"

"I...I'm not needed here."  He held up a hand as she started to protest.  "Not enough.  Since I came back I've felt out-of-sorts, and it's just not just because we can't be together.  I need a place I can be useful, and L.A. is full of demons and people needing help. I'll move the clan there and get them out of your hair.  It's not like I'm moving to Tibet," he added as he noticed the stricken look on her face.  "Any time you need me, I'm just a few hours away."

"I'll always need you.  I wish you wouldn't go."

"You have Spike at your side now, Buffy."

"Oh, like he's going to fight alongside me," she replied sarcastically.

Angel gave her a gentle smile and cocked eyebrow.  "Are you so sure?"

She just shook her head in disbelief and smiled sadly back.  "So, when are you leaving?"

"In a week or two, though if Spike is up to something with the Feast of Devonnia, I may hang around longer if I can't get a straight answer out of him.  I just came back here to get a few things.  I've moved into Spike's lair.  He'll need to find somewhere else to stay.  I offered him this place, but I know he has bad memories of the last time he lived here."

"I'll take him apartment hunting before he starts sizing up crypts. I may be dating the evil undead, but I have some standards and I'm not doing it in a crypt."

Angel groaned.  "Please, bad mental image."

Buffy giggled, then slid off the chair and onto the couch to hug him.  "I demand you get a cell phone before you leave with my number programmed into it, and you have to call me at least once a week."

Tucking her head under his chin, Angel hugged her back.  "I promise."

Duffle bag over his shoulder, cigarette drooping between his lips, Spike strolled through Shady Lawns Cemetery, feeling lighter emotionally than he had in ages.  He glanced from crypt to crypt, shaking his head at each one of them--too small, too ugly, already occupied--looking for a place to lay his head.

Angel had offered him the mansion but there was no way in hell he was going to take him up on it.  He hated that place.

No, he'd find a cozy crypt near the edges of a cemetery so he could hook up cable and electricity, get himself a television, a fridge and a bed, and be set.

Turning a corner he nearly ran into Buffy and bounced back a step.

Buffy smiled at him, nodded at the duffle bag, and shook her head.  "No crypts, no factories, and definitely no sewers."

"Huh?"

She pulled a folded up newspaper section--swiped from Angel-- out of the back pocket of her jeans and waved it at him. "Apartment listings."

"Huh?"

"I'm not doing it in any of the places you're thinking of living, so we're going to go back to my place and check out the classifieds and make some appointments to see some apartments."

"...How do you know..."

"I saw Angel," she said matter-of-factly.  "He's just the sweetest..." She chuckled as Spike made gagging noises.  "Come on, he's sacrificing his own happiness for us."

"For you," Spike clarified, flicking away his cigarette butt as he shook his head in bemusement.

"Well, since you aren't a heap of dust, I figure he must be doing this for you, too."  She slipped her arm through his and spun him around.  "Come on, Spike.  Mom'll make you cocoa," she wheedled.

"An apartment?  Vampires don't live in apartments," he muttered in horror as he let her lead him towards the street.

"My vampire does."

At that sweet possessive, he stopped and kissed her, then wrapped his arm around her waist as they headed home.

The End

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