(no subject)
TITLE: Visitation
RATING: PG at most. No kinks. Surprised? Me too! :D
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series. In order: Til The Moon Is Abed (Slash/Het), Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, the chapter immediately preceding this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Herbert/Spike, Buffy/the Immortal (ie. Vittorio) and miscellaneous implied ones.
WORDS: 9586
NOTES: Someone should give bwinter a cheerleader outfit and some pompoms. I've never been on such a roll with any fic series before, especially not with chapters as big as these and storylines in such dramatic arcs. *squishes* I quite adore you, m'darling!
___________________________
“So, what did I miss?”
Looking up from the screen he was studying, leaning over Willow’s shoulder, Giles didn’t alter his expression quickly enough for his head Slayer. “Ah, Buffy! How was the gathering?”
Buffy frowned, looking from one face to the other in consternation. “Okay... you look worried, Willow’s all frowny and you’re both using an actual computer instead of just doing the big mojo.”
“Busted,” Willow muttered, scooting the mouse across the desk.
Rubbing his brow, Giles removed his glasses “A... situation has arisen.”
“And this is a new thing because...?” Dropping her hefty shoulder-bag by the door, she walked into the large office space. “Come on. I go away for a week to the middle of nowhere. How bad can it be?”
“Quite bad, really,” Giles replied, sighing. “Dawn stole your car and now, we think she’s been eaten, turned or taken hostage by one of the most powerful vampire sorcerers of the eighteenth and nineteenth century somewhere in Romania.”
Staring at him, Buffy blinked several times. “Huh?”
“Dawn...”
“Which car?”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “You don’t mind the fact she may have been...”
Buffy made a dismissive gesture. “Dawnie isn’t dumb,” she said. “And with Will’s spells and everything working like they have been up until now, she’ll be fine and on her way back.” Willow and Giles exchanged worried looks. “What?”
“You did hear him say ‘most powerful vampire sorcerer’, right?”
“Yeah, but we have super-wicca,” Buffy said, frowning.
Willow’s expression was pained. “You’re not getting it,” she said, pushing strands of hair back behind her ears. “When we say most powerful, we mean, like, ever. No one ever beat this guy.” She looked apologetic. “I don’t even know if I could.”
Buffy stared at her, colour draining from her face. “And he’s got Dawn?”
“We think so,” Giles confirmed grimly. “And a wretched sense of humour.” he nodded towards the computer screen. “Since Dawn dropped off Willow’s sensors and the tracking device she carries has been blocked, we had no idea until we received this message.”
Approaching, Buffy leaned over Willow’s shoulder to read, her hands resting on the back of the witch’s chair. “What is this?”
“The conclusion of my rare book transaction with the Graf von Krolock,” Giles replied, glancing at her. “It is polite to leave feedback once deliveries are made.”
“‘Books perfect. Delivery rapid. Condition acceptable. Delivery agent delicious.’”
Under Buffy’s hands, the back of Willow’s chair cracked in half, the Slayer’s expression ugly with fury. “Find them,” she said tersely. “If they’ve done anything to Dawnie, I’ll kick their ass, super-mojo-guy or not.”
“This is where further problems arise,” Giles said quietly, carefully. He didn’t flinch back from the look on Buffy’s face, which was quite the feat. “Where ever they are, they are concealed.”
“Giles, find them,” Buffy’s voice was cold, hard. “I don’t care what it takes. She’s my baby sister, and no one hurts my baby sister.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Perhaps it would be prudent to wait until dawn.”
Standing beside the car, axe in one hand, sword in the other, Buffy didn’t look down at her lover. “It’s taken me long enough to find this place,” she said. “I want to know that Dawn’s okay.”
After two and a half weeks of driving in erratic circles in the area where Dawn had vanished, a house had appeared in the forest in front of them. Willow had baulked and confirmed that it was, indeed, the place.
Now, they had driven up the drive and were presently parked several metres from the front door with one very irate Slayer presently arming herself with an impressive arsenal and a fierce temper.
“That is understandable, mio tesoro,” Emerging from the car, Vittorio gazed up at the manor, his perfect brows drawing together. “But placing yourself in unnecessary danger would not be wise.”
Under any other circumstances, Buffy would have listened to her immortal lover, but with her younger sister’s life at stake, his centuries of experience fell on deaf ears.
“I think he’s right,” Willow added. She was leaning against the side of the car, looking incredibly pale, her eyes half-closed. “There’s something way wiggy about this place.”
“Too much mojo?”
Shaking her head tightly, Willow drew a slow breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s not here,” she said, covering her eyes with a hand. “I... I can’t sense it, even though I can see it. Whatever is shielding it is way up the power chart.”
“And whatever the hell it is, it has Dawn.”
Vittorio glanced at Willow, then back at Buffy. “I expect that nothing we can say will dissuade you, bella?” he murmured.
“Damn straight.”
“Then perhaps, to catch them by surprise, you might knock at the door?” The Slayer gave him a look and he raised his hands. “It was but a suggestion.”
“You stay with Willow,” Buffy said. “I’m going in.”
Giving the red-haired witch an apologetic look as he slipped an arm loosely around her shoulder to hold her upright, Vittorio sighed. “Well, she cannot say that I did not give her warning,” he murmured.
“You know Buffy,” Willow mumbled, leaning against him. She was shivering as if she had been tossed into icy water, her hands tensed by her sides. “If something’s not worth doing dramatically, it’s not worth doing at all.”
Buffy threw a look over her shoulder at them, then stalked towards the door. With one deceptively small and dainty foot, she kicked the door wide open, leaving a notable dent in the heavy wood, and stepped into dark hall on the other side.
Somewhere in the darkness, she heard a shriek that made her spine freeze.
Giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, she heard a strange rushing noise as she moved further into the hall. Her hands tensed around her weapons and when she saw the blur of motion, she raised the sword.
The movement came closer and...
Dawn?
The tall, slim figure sped past. It looked like it was skidding across the floor, and was followed by two other speeding figures, but with several prominent differences.
Vampires!
Lifting the axe above her head to toss in an over-arm at one of them, Buffy narrowed her eyes. The vampire tackled the screaming Dawn, but as Buffy tried to throw her weapon, the shadows spread along the blade of the axe suddenly grasped and ripped it from her hand, sending it clattering across the floor.
And in the swirl of blackness, Buffy could have sworn she saw glittering dark eyes, boiling with rage.
Apparently alerted to the assault, both the vampires whirled around with hisses.
“SILENCE!”
The roar shook the building to the foundations.
Her heart racing, Buffy stared around wildly for the owner of the voice. Her spine prickled and she spun, launching a punch, which was caught against a broad palm, forcing her back. A face loomed from the shadows above her, and this time there could be no mistaking the thunderous rage in the black eyes.
Automatically, she struck out with her other hand, but the blade was batted aside as if she had hit him with nothing more than a feather. Not only was he impressively tall, but he seemed so much freakishly stronger than she remembered any vampire being recently.
“You dare to invade my home,” the voice was a rumble of a snarl. “You attack my guests and my family!”
“You attacked mine first!” Buffy exclaimed, trying to pull her fist free from the iron-tight grip.
From behind her, she heard the scuffle of feet, heard her sister’s voice, “Buffy?”
Black eyes gazed at her penetratingly then looked beyond her. “This is your sister, Miss Summers?” Apparently, the unspoken answer was enough. His hand released hers and he prowled past her, as if she were no longer of interest.
Turning, confused, Buffy saw Dawn standing between the two vampires that had been chasing her, looking equally bemused and totally alive. “Dawnie!” As she move to rush to her sister, long-fingered hand gripped her upper arm like a vice and she looked up angrily.
The vampire stared down at her coldly. “You believe I will allow you near my kin?”
“She’s my sister!”
“You have shown no reason that I should allow you near her.” The vampire circled her with the flare of a dark cloak, heavy silver hair sweeping around his face. “You have broken into and vandalised my home to say nothing of your attempt to attack those under my protection. Your violence and manners are deplorable.”
“Look, buddy...”
“Buffy...” Dawn’s voice sounded like she was wincing.
Abruptly, those dark eyes were inches from hers, cold and unwavering. “Do not dare to presume to speak to me thus, infant,” he growled. “My patience is wearing thin. It is only your sister’s presence that has thus far preserved you.”
A wash of light swept over them and the hands that had been gripping Buffy’s arms like pincers released her, leaving her to stagger. The vampire straightened up, a gesture snuffing out the light.
Around them, lamps seemed to light themselves, flooding the hall with a pale glow.
“A single witch and a Slayer? This is how you chose to assault me?”
Glancing over her shoulder at the swaying Willow, who was looking even whiter. Buffy’s expression tightened. “Dawn,” she said, ignoring the vampire between her and her sister. “Come on. We’ve come to take you home. You’re free now.”
Behind the chief vampire, one of the others started laughing aloud.
“Herbert,” Dawn’s voice was suddenly deadly serious. “I thought you said you were going to let them know I was okay.” The giggles intensified and were punctuated by the sound of a smack. “Herbert!”
“Your pardon, darling,” the vampire apparently called Herbert said around a burst of laughter. “I may have accidentally given them the impression that I ate you.”
“Accidentally, my arse!” the second unseen vampire said, laughing.
At that voice, Buffy recoiled as if struck, eyes wide. She felt like she had stepped onto thin ice and beneath her, it was starting to crack. “S...Spike?”
Between them, the looming presence of the chief vampire seemed to draw back from her and closer to the trio. He moved aside, allowing her to see those she had attacked so blindly, two of them familiar faces she knew as well as her own.
Waving faintly, Spike looked like he was trying to smile. “All right, Slayer?”
“But you... you died.”
The vampire shrugged. “Got better,” he replied. He looked it too. Apparently getting toasted did great things for the complexion. His hair, though free of bleach, was longer and shaggy around his ears, sandy in colour. “How’ve you been?”
“Uh... okay, I guess...” Buffy’s eyes darted to her sister, who met her gaze. “You knew he was here?”
“Got an anonymous letter,” Dawn replied, then looked towards the chief vampire, who had moved to stand behind his son, his hands on the vampire called Herbert’s shoulders. “The Graf said I could stay so I could catch up.”
Buffy wondered if it would be a bad time to have her ears checked. “Uh... what?”
“The Graf,” Dawn repeated. “The chief. He said I could stay for a while and I just kinda lost track of time.” She grinned weakly. “And no one has tried to eat me, except Herbert, but he won’t do it again.”
The blond-haired vampire standing to her left folded his hands in front of him and looked innocently up at the ceiling.
“Maybe my brain isn’t working, but huh?”
Dawn sighed. “Look, I’m not in trouble,” she said patiently. “I’m having a vacation.”
“They were chasing you!”
For a moment, Dawn looked sheepish. “We were playing tag,” she mumbled.
“But... but they’re vampires.”
“So was Angel,” Dawn replied evenly.
To her left, Herbert snorted and got an elbow to the ribs.
“But they don’t have souls!”
“Um...” Spike raised a hand.
“Okay, Spike, the undead souled vampire does,” Buffy snapped, pushing a hand through her hair. “Look, Dawn, this place isn’t safe!”
Dawn’s expression revealed nothing. “It’s safer than Sunnydale,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “And I don’t have crazy demons crashing in here, looking for a fight with the Slayer.”
“She makes a valid point, mi bella,” a soft, warm voice spoke from the door.
Turning sharply, Buffy was startled to see that Willow was sitting in the doorway, looking dazed and shaken, Vittorio squatted down beside her. His dark brown eyes rose to the Slayer, then slipped sideways and she saw the smile touch his face.
Straightening up, he approached Buffy, but his eyes were on the chief vampire. She followed his gaze and saw the smile reflected on the vampire’s lips.
“Vittorio,” the vampire murmured, slipping out from behind Herbert and gliding towards them.
Bowing his head politely, his dark hair sweeping against his brow, Vittorio closed the space between them with three paces. “It has been a long time, Johannes,” he murmured, lifting a hand to touch the vampire’s cheek.
A kiss was touched to one cheek, then the other and Buffy found herself staring as their lips brushed briefly, softly.
Drawing back, fingertips trailing against the vampire’s cheek, Vittorio sighed. “You should have come to Milan, Eccellenza.”
Whatever the vampire replied, it was muffled when Dawn’s sudden giggle echoed off the walls. From what Buffy could see, it looked like the blond vampire had fainted into Dawn’s arms, fanning himself with one hand, while Spike was grinning and shaking his head.
“Buffy,” Willow murmured vaguely from the doorway. She had managed to rise, leaning in the frame. “Maybe I’m seeing things cos my magic is all kindsa kahblooey, but did your boyfriend just hit on the guy you came here to dust?”
Glancing over Vittorio’s shoulder, the vampire’s eyebrow rose. “Boyfriend?” he murmured, his lips twitching.
Vittorio turned towards her, offering a hand, which Buffy - bemused beyond the reckoning of it - took, letting him pull her forward. “Miss Summers consented to be my consort,” he said fondly.
“What?” Herbert’s squeal of indignation set Dawn giggling again. “But he... but I never... and he...”
With a lamentable wail, Herbert threw himself into Dawn’s arms. Her legs buckled and she sat down heavily on the polished floor, still laughing, the vampire wailing on her shoulder.
“Children,” the chief vampire murmured, with a subtle gesture of one hand.
Sniffing pointedly and pouting, Herbert got to his feet and dusted himself down. He offered Dawn a hand and hauled her upright. “What does your sister have that I don’t?” he mumbled to her.
Dawn shrugged. “Boobage?” she offered in an undertone. Turning her attention back to her sister, she gave Buffy a look. “See,” she said. “I’m okay. No one is trying to eat me or turn me or anything.”
“You should have told us before you ran off,” Buffy mumbled, groping for the familiar among the madness that seemed to be going on. “You don’t know the danger you could be putting yourself in.”
The smile that had been on Dawn’s face seemed to fade a little. “What part of me being okay here are you not getting?” she said, her voice sharp. “You know I can defend myself if I have to.”
“You don’t need to prove anything, Dawnie,” Buffy said. “C’mon. We’ll go home and you can get ready for college.”
Shaking her head, Dawn stepped back. “I’m staying here,” she said. “I want to stay with Spike for a while.”
“Dawnie...”
“Buffy, I’m nineteen years old! I can decide what I want to do!”
“Dawnie, sweetie, I know,” Raising her hand in a calming manner, Buffy couldn’t help noticing the way the three vampires drifted closer to her sister, almost like they were defending her. “But you don’t want to get stuck in this kind of life again. I didn’t.”
Dawn stared at her. “I’m not you,” she said softly, quietly. “And I know what I want to do. I’m staying.”
Turning, without another word, she walked up the stairs. Spike threw a helpless look at the Slayer, before hurrying after her, but Herbert remained, standing just shy of the chief vampire, leaning casually against the banister.
Buffy frowned.
What was wrong with her sister? Had the vampires done something to her?
Dawn had a chance to be normal, going to school and being around regular people and being regular herself and she wanted to hang out here? With a crazy vampire, Spike and that big, scary looming one, who was watching her deliberately, gravely.
“Bella, perhaps you should let her remain,” Vittorio murmured, kissing her temple gently. “The Graf is not so terrible as some.”
“You flatter, Vittorio,” the vampire murmured. “But I must admit I would be loath to have you believe she was under some kind of spell.” He unfolded his arms and moved closer. “Remain for a time and see that this is her choice alone, Slayer.”
“She would never...”
“She would, Miss Summers,” the vampire said quietly. “I only hope you are not blinded so much that you will not allow yourself to see it.”
Turning away from her, he simply seemed to fade before her vision as he ascended the staircase.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“What the devil are you doing?”
Scowling at the door, Spike fiddled with the two pieces of wire that were presently stuck in the lock of Dawn’s door. “Bit kicked me out,” he said. “Thought I better try and get back in before she does something silly.”
Squatting down beside him, Herbert peered at the wires. “Do you honestly think that will work if she doesn’t want you in there?”
Sighing, Spike shook his head, but continued to wiggle the wires. “Dunno,” he said. “Never seen her get this way before.” Looking up at Herbert, he frowned. “Weren’t you meant to be looking after Red?”
“The young witch?” Herbert grinned slightly. “Oh, yes. Once fed and watered, she seemed to recover quite nicely.”
“And you’re grinning like you just found a pretty little choirboy because…?”
“I let her into the library.”
Spike groaned. “Lemme guess; spontaneous orgasm?”
“Several, unless I was sorely mistaken,” Herbert’s smirk was thoroughly lecherous, his grey eyes glimmering. “Of course, I have little experience on that front, but one would assume that some sounds are universal.”
“You’re a pig,” Spike said succinctly.
“Mm,” Herbert acknowledged. He leaned over the younger vampires and rapped on the door, tilting his head. “Dawn?” he inquired. “Darling, are you going to sulk in there all day or may I come in and discuss your sister’s boyfriend?” There was no reply and Herbert’s eyebrows rose. “What did you say to her to make her so angry, William?”
The younger vampire shrugged. “I was just saying maybe she should go back for the college thing, like Buffy said,” he replied. “And she kicked me out!”
“Oh, William,” Herbert sighed woefully. “You really have no understanding of the minds of women, do you?” Spike blinked at him mutely. “By agreeing with her sister, you have only supported her belief that she thinks she is seen as a child.”
“But she is!”
Herbert rolled his eyes, an expression that froze on his face.
“What?”
Following Herbert’s line of sight, Spike turned his head to look behind him and promptly dropped his lockpick.
“Leave the door, William,” von Krolock said quietly.
“Just want to check on her,” Spike mumbled, lowering his eyes.
“If she wished for that, she would have let you in,” the Graf murmured. “She does not desire your company.” His eyes lingered on Spike. “And I believe you had words with her sister several hours ago.”
Spike went rigid. “We... she thought I forced Dawn to stay.”
“Mm.” Von Krolock lifted his eyes to the door. He gazed at it for a moment, then nodded, as if he had been made aware of something. “It makes no difference now. The child is not within.”
“What?” Spike scrambled to his feet. “Where is she?”
“Somewhere that you cannot harass her further.” Von Krolock’s hand caught Spike’s shoulder as he tried to hurry away. “William, leave her.”
“But...”
“I will not say it again, William.”
Lowering his eyes, Spike nodded, chewing on his lower lip. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”
“I shall tend her,” von Krolock replied, his other hand lifting Spike’s chin, forcing the younger vampire to meet his eyes. “She will make her own decisions, William, whether they are to your approval or not. I would suggest you accept them.”
“Yes, sir,” Spike mumbled.
“Very good.” Von Krolock said, brushing a brief kiss against Spike’s lips. “Trust me.”
With a prickle of some kind unease running down his spine, Spike nodded, lowering his eyes meekly and when next he looked up, von Krolock was gone.
Behind him, he felt Herbert rise a moment before an arm slipped around his waist. “He did not look very pleased,” Herbert murmured against Spike’s ear, idly stroking Spike’s stomach.
“Stating the obvious your gift, then?” Spike said more sharply than he intended.
Herbert drew back a little, as if subdued, then spun Spike to face him, gripping the younger vampire’s wrists in a steely hold. “It was friendly observation,” he said quietly, eyes glittering. “He will take care of her, you know.”
“I know!” Spike tried to pull his hands free. “D’you think I need to be told? But if he turns the Bit, so help me…”
Slowly, Herbert started to grin. “It’ll be interesting to see him try it,” he said, then pulled Spike bodily against him. “I think she can play this game as well as he.”
“The Niblet?” Spike stared at the elder vampire incredulously.
“Mm,” Herbert leaned in to claim a chaste kiss then smiled slowly against Spike’s lips. “Why do you think she and I did not kill one another while father was otherwise occupied with you?”
“You wouldn’t have dared!”
Herbert grinned slowly, wickedly. “I did,” he purred. “And she managed to outwit me. A clever girl you have there, and one who does not object to using tricks and cunning where the obvious is not enough.”
Blue eyes blinked several times. “Niblet outdid you?”
“Several times,” Herbert admitted freely. “I underestimated her.” He glanced upwards, as if seeing something beyond the stone of the ceiling and walls then looked back at Spike. “Do you think she likes chains?”
“I don’t need to think about that!” Spike exclaimed, voice rising in pitch.
Herbert laughed wickedly. “Oh, really?” he murmured.
Suddenly, Spike found himself thrown over Herbert’s shoulder. Giving the younger vampire a firm pat on the buttock, Herbert smiled. “Let us remedy that.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Standing on the balcony, arms folded over her chest, Dawn stared unseeing at the sun-washed landscape in front of her. Her hair was ripping free from her ponytail, whipping against her cheeks, which were rosy from the cold. It was getting closer to evening, and she could feel the chill in the air as the sky started to change colours.
Behind her, in the shelter of the room, she knew he was watching her. She knew he had allowed her to hear the whisper of his cloak moments earlier, letting her know that he was present, watching her from the shadows. Something told her he had been watching her in ways she didn’t understand since the minute she arrived.
“They will find you,” he murmured finally.
“Been here a month,” Dawn replied, shivering slightly. “I think I can find more places to hide than they can look.”
“But do you wish to go on hiding?”
Dawn sighed, looking down at the balustrade in front of her. She reached out to flick a loose piece of stone away. “I... I just want to have some time away from them,” she said quietly. “Didn’t realise it until I got here.”
“You feel smothered by them,” the Graf’s voice was quiet, mellifluous.
“And you keep on sticking your nose in my head,” Dawn retorted with half-hearted annoyance. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I know I’m the baby, I’m not a kid anymore.” She saw him nod. Her fingertips pressed against the worn stone. “Haven’t been since I saw Buffy die.”
Standing on the edge of the slice of daylight that cut across the floor of the room, von Krolock gazed at her. “Have you told her?”
“What? That seeing my big sister and the only family had left killing herself to save me, her non-sister’s life, messed me up a bit?” Laughing bitterly, Dawn shook her head and looked away. “How do you say that?” She shuddered a little, as if seeing something replay behind her eyes. “Seeing anyone die is enough to make you grow up real fast, but when it’s your fault...”
“It was a decision she made,” von Krolock observed quietly, skirting the daylight and approaching the anti-solar glass. “Would you have done the same, were you in her place?”
Reluctantly, Dawn nodded, looking away from him. “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t still have nightmares about it,” she said quietly. “Mom was bad enough, then Buffy... Tara... Spike too.” Her smile was fainter. “Started to wonder if it was me. Wondered if people died because I loved them.”
Von Krolock didn’t move and, on the opposite side of the glass, his grave expression didn’t change, but something... felt different about the way he was looking at her.
Looking away from him, trying to push down the emotion she had been trying to fight since Buffy had arrived, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I must sound like such a kid,” she muttered, “Sulking about how people kept dying around me and leaving me. Not like they wanted to.”
“It was no more your fault than the sun’s rising,” His voice washed over her in a soothing wave and she felt the heat of tears on her cheeks. Covering her face with her hand, she bit down on her lip to stifle any sound. “Miss Summers...”
“I’m good,” she whispered, the lie sour in her throat.
“You need not pretend, dear child.”
Dawn laughed weakly. “Why not? Everyone else does.” She turned to look at him, uncaring of the faint streaks of mascara she knew she had smeared. “Thanks to them, I’m just a normal kid now, working at a normal institute and have a normal life.”
His dark eyes gazed solemnly at her. “You should not be forced to live their lies,” he said quietly. “Your life is your own.”
“They don’t think so,” Dawn’s voice was tense, shaking. “I heard them yelling at each other outside my door. They still think I’m the same little girl I was, back in Sunnydale. They still think I can’t hear what they’re saying when I’m right there. They think I don’t care enough to listen.”
Von Krolock nodded, his hands folded before him. “Then to be kind, you must be cruel,” he said softly. “If you cannot break free with gentleness and prove yourself to them, then you must show them that you are strong enough to stand alone.”
“What am I meant to do?” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Refuse to go back with them and stay here, just because it would prove a point? How could I tell Buffy that I feel more at home here than in a nice, normal apartment at a nice, normal school with a nice normal group of friends?”
“Is that what you feel?”
Lowering her eyes, Dawn nodded. “Better than being surrounded by Slayers all the time,” she said so quietly it was barely audible. “You don’t make me pretend that everything is normal and fine.”
“You would be welcome,” von Krolock sounded so sincere that she looked up at him incredulously. He stepped closer to the glass. “But no pretending. I am not a mortal gentleman. You are not merely a naive little girl.” He gazed at her through the tinted panel. “We would be what and who we are.”
“You’re a killer,” she said quietly, approaching the glass.
“I am.”
She held his gaze willingly, brow creased with thought. “You have no soul.”
“None.”
“Given the chance, you’ll probably kill me eventually and turn me into one of you,” she murmured, unfolding her arms.
Von Krolock slowly nodded. “It is likely,” he admitted, “Though it would not be without regret.”
Dawn smiled slightly, sadly. “I’d like to see you try it,” she murmured. She looked down, then back up at him. “I always thought I wanted a normal life, y’know. A life without demons and vampires and death and everything.”
“And now?”
“Now?” She lifted her hand and pressed it to the sun-lit glass. “Now, I know I never could live with it.” She watched the faint smear of condensation spread around her fingers. “I’ve seen too much to ever be just a normal girl.”
“And you would choose to live with vampires, the very things your sister has fought for so long?”
She shrugged. “Can’t see me fitting in at any school anywhere,” she mumbled, one side of her mouth rising as she added, “Unless it was Hogwarts.” Her eyes lifted to him. “You could teach me more than any of them, I bet.”
The smile that touched his lips was so soft, so unlike his usual grave expression, that she found herself returning it.
His hand rose and was placed against the glass, palm-to-palm with hers.
“If that is your wish, Dawn,” he said, his eyes holding hers.
It was the first time she could recall him using her forename and she was startled by how much it pleased her.
Without hesitation, she nodded, then gasped as his fingers slid through the surface of the glass as if it were water. Threading between hers, his fingers brushed lightly against the back of her palm, and he drew her through the glass.
“Then stay,” he said softly.
Squeezing his hand, Dawn granted him a brief, shy smile that was nothing like her usual grin. “You’re gonna regret this, Mister,” she said. “Letting me and Spike live in the same building indefinitely? You’ll be nuts within a week.”
Lifting her hand to his lips, he returned her smile with a wicked one of his own. “I look forward to it,” he murmured, kissing the back of her palm.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“How can she want to stay here, in this creepy house with those creepy guys?”
Sprawled on his belly on a broad bed, chin resting on his folded hands, Vittorio watched her pace. “Bella,” he murmured. “Have you ever considered that she does not want a normal life?”
Buffy turned and blinked. “What kind of crazy talk is that?” she demanded. “I know I would have given anything to be just a normal girl when I was her age. I wanted to go to movies and do homework and study…”
“But you have not had a life like hers,” he observed.
That stopped the Slayer mid-pace, and she turned to look at him. “What? With having to deal with the Slay-y stuff?”
Vittorio slowly shook his head. “No, bella,” he murmured. “It is far simpler than that; you have grown with being a Slayer. You have those who support you and aid you and have grown with you. She, as sister, saw only from the outside. She had none to support and guide her as you have. She has had experiences that you have not.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said, approaching the bed. “She didn’t have to stop the apocalypse.”
“No, no, no, bella.” Leaning up on one arm, Vittorio motioned for her to sit close to him. “You misunderstand. You were destined to this life, to know the things you know, to see the things you have seen. She was not.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Buffy twisted her fingers together. “I tried to keep her away from it all,” she mumbled. “Things sucked enough for me. I didn’t want them to find out.”
“I know.” His arm slipped around her waist as he leaned closer to her and gazed up at her. “But such things are sometimes beyond our control. This is the life she has grown with, since an age where such things are important.”
“But I wanted out, when I was her age,” Buffy turned in his embrace to look down at him. “I hated being so different, so isolated by what I was and what I had to do.”
Vittorio nodded understandingly. “But you were already in all ways yourself, when you were shown this life,” he observed gently. “You were upon the final steps of the path to adulthood. Dawn was but a child.”
“She still had normal stuff to do!”
“And do it, she did, but she looked to you, her elder, her better,” Vittorio slowly sat up and drew Buffy into his arms. “As little as it pleases you, she was drawn to the life that repulses you so. Since your arrival in Sunnydale, it has been so.”
“She shouldn’t,” Buffy whispered. “I tried to stop it.”
“Not truly,” Vittorio countered.
“But I…”
“Bella, look to your friends,” he murmured. “You have been surrounded by those with powers that captivate those without. You likely did not notice, as you had such strengths yourself. It became as natural to you as breathing. But she saw these powers, she saw what you could do, what you did do.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “For a child, enthralled by powers she could not understand, you were as magical and wondrous as a superhero.” He gave her a brief, gentle smile. “Do you not see how she could long to be like you? To steep herself in the darkness, that she might touch a little of the incredible feats you have performed?”
The Slayer stared at him. “But she’s… she’s just a kid,” she mumbled.
“No longer, bella,” Vittorio said softly. “You are hiding your eyes from the truth. It has been many years since Dawn has been a child.” He laced his fingers between hers, watching their hands. “Even without your strength and skill, she has done more than many mortals would dare, more than many of your Slayers have.”
“I keep telling her she doesn’t have to,” Buffy mumbled, squeezing his hand. “I just want her to be safe. I couldn’t stand to lose her. Mom trusted me to look after her.”
Vittorio nodded solemnly. “But how can she ever grow, if you keep her locked in a cage for her whole life?” he asked. “The bars may not be visible, but as long as you keep her by your side, she will feel trapped. She is a strong young woman, bella. She only needs you to trust in her.”
“I do trust her,” Buffy protested weakly.
Her lover lifted his dark eyes to her gravely. “If that is true, then you would not doubt her now,” he said.
“This is different!”
His eyebrow arched. “Because it is vampires?”
“Yes! I… no…” Frowning, Buffy stared at their joined hands. “Kinda, yes.” She admitted in a mumble. “Willow says this guy is way powerful and way strong. I don’t trust him not to hurt Dawnie.”
“Then you must trust your sister,” he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. “If you do not trust her to protect herself when she has a friend close at hand, then how could you ever trust her in the world beyond your sight?”
Nodding, Buffy’s frown deepened. “Do you think she’ll be okay here?” she asked quietly.
“How can a bird learn to fly, if it is not permitted to spread its wings?” Vittorio asked, stroking his thumb against her knuckles.
“This… Graf-guy…” Hazel eyes rose to him. “You two… you have a history, right?”
One side of Vittorio’s mouth curled up minutely. “I have known him for several centuries,” he murmured. “And I know that is not what you meant, but it is what you need to know.” Buffy blushed, recognising the softly-spoken reprimand. “He is powerful, strong and wise.”
“But still a vampire.”
Vittorio nodded. “But he is honourable and, above all things, a gentleman,” he said. “I do not believe he would harm your sister intentionally any more than Dawn would allow herself to be harmed.”
Chewing on her lower lip, Buffy stared at their fingers. “I guess it’ll only be for a while,” she mumbled reluctantly, leaning into Vittorio’s arms and resting her head on his shoulder. “I mean,” she laughed faintly. “she wouldn’t wanna stay here forever.”
“As you say, bella,” her lover murmured against her temple, never more grateful that she could not see the expression in his eyes. “Who would wish to remain here forever?”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It certainly appeared civil.
Alas that such tranquil surfaces so often belied that which lay beneath.
As he sat at the head of the grand oak table in the dining room, von Krolock’s eyes were half-closed as he surveyed his guests. To his right, Dawn Summers was seated, and to his left, Vittorio, the Immortal. The younger Miss Summers and William were flanking Herbert, who was looking across the table at the elder Miss Summers.
The last guest was the young witch, who was currently extolling the wonder of his library, something which - under any other circumstance - would have been a source of delightful indulgence, her giddiness amusing.
However, faced by the emotional barrage of six overwrought beings, his head felt as it had when Herbert had snared a drummer boy from the Imperial army nearly two centuries earlier. He had thought the throbbing in his temples would never cease.
His chin cupped in one hand, he watched the conversation, involving himself as little as possible, words passed from one to the other like unwanted scrap and handed on as quickly as possible.
“So… uh… Spike…”
Looking up from the breadstick he had been using, to trace patterns in his blood, the youngest of the vampires looked startled. “Red?”
The witch beamed at him. “So… you’re alive, huh?”
“Tell me something,” Herbert’s voice bluntly interrupted whatever reply William might have made, his grey eyes fixed on the Slayer. “Can you begin to imagine why your… lover chooses to call my father ‘excellency’?”
Looking from Herbert to the quietly-chuckling Vittorio, the Slayer looked vaguely bemused. “I guess because it’s his title?” she said.
“Oh, I suppose that may be part of it,” Herbert made a grand gesture with one hand. “Admittedly, I can hardly speak for my father’s manner, but I’m sure it covers much, much more.”
“Herbert.” Von Krolock sighed.
“No, Eccellenza,” Vittorio raised his hand mildly. “Your son is right.”
The unfortunate William had chosen a terrible moment to sip some of the wine, spluttering rudely and hastily covering his mouth with one hand.
Ignoring William’s hasty attempt to mop up the patina of wine he had spattered across the table, von Krolock’s lips twitched slightly. “It is generous of you to say so, Vittorio,” he murmured.
Vittorio bowed his head elegantly. “I speak only the truth,” he murmured, and to one who knew him so well, the lingering affection from their brief and passionate affair laced every word. The Slayer, however, seemed unaware, or was simply amused by the thought. “Linguist, poet, sorcerer, alchemy… was there any field you did not excel in, mio signore?”
“I have had some time to practise,” von Krolock murmured, unable to deny that there, among many reasons, had he been drawn to the handsome immortal. For someone to turn Herbert’s words against him was skill indeed.
Resuming his petulant pouting, Herbert folded his arms over his chest.
“Um…” The witch seemed to see a place for her to slip back into the conversation, now that Herbert had been silenced. “Actually, there was something I was kinda wondering about, sir…”
Unfurling his fingers in a gesture to speak, von Krolock gazed at her. She had power, of that there was no doubt, but there was such fearful restraint, a shadow overlying her, a stain that cut deep into her soul.
“You have every book ever, right?” She looked so earnest and eager that he suppressed a slight smile. “I mean, I looked up some of the more obscure codexes that… well, you know you hear of them, but you don’t know if they exist because demons aren’t exactly good with the keeping-of-records and you kinda have them all here and I was… I mean, would you mind a whole lot if we could refer to you?”
“I see no reason why not,” he murmured. He could see Herbert shifting from the corner of his eye, could sense an impending outburst, and directed his gaze fully at his son, who was glaring across the table. “Herbert.”
Grey eyes darted towards him then back to the Immortal, who had lifted his lover’s hand to his lips and was kissing her fingertips. Ah, his one desire that he had never succeeded in attaining or even intriguing. Alas, that his son could not understand that Vittorio’s interest lay in only women.
And one exception.
“I was merely wondering if that was the Slayer’s natural hair colour,” Herbert’s expression was bland, but his eyes were flashing. Beside him, Dawn groaned and sank down in her chair.
“Could ask you the same, goldielocks,” the Slayer said with mock-sweetness, not even looking at him. She leaned closer and kissed Vittorio lightly and, von Krolock sensed, deliberately.
Herbert scowled, nails scratching against the surface of the table.
On his other side, William leaned closer and touched his arm, but was shrugged off with a glare. “Herbie, mate, she’s not worth the fuss…”
“Not what you used to say.” Buffy finally turned away from Vittorio and looked across the table at him.
Closing his eyes wearily, von Krolock tried to stave off the sudden flare of ire from the second vampire. Pushing his chair back, he rose from the table with such smooth swiftness that all eyes leapt to him.
Unspeaking, he crossed the floor to the fireplace, staring down at the flames.
It would not do to turn his ire upon his son now, not with the presence of his new guest so recently agreed upon. Still, his teeth ground together, his hands folded behind his back, the stifling silence from the table only adding to the building frustration.
A second chair scraped on the stone floor and he felt the approach of the younger Miss Summers.
And yet, he could not deny his shock when her small, warm hand reached out and touched his arm in a wordless gesture that was still full of meaning. Glancing down at her, he could see the concern on her face, the genuine worry, for him of all people.
“I know what’s going on,” she said softly, little more than a whisper then gave him a small smile that he was sure only he saw. “Lemme take care of it.”
Barely nodding, he felt her hand slide against his arm as she pulled away as if she had scorched him with flame.
From beneath his lashes, he watched her return to the table and sit down, as if nothing had happened, arranging a napkin across her lap, picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. All eyes had switched from him to her.
“Oh, Herbert,” she said suddenly, turning and looking at him.
With a beckoning gesture, she drew him closer. He looked baffled, as if expecting to hear some warning or other, then uttered an indignant squawk when she caught his face between her hands and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
For a split-second, there was a shocked silence, then Herbert plummeted off his seat and landed on the floor, shattering the stillness with the same effect of a rock through a window.
William was the first to laugh, applauding as he did so, laughing so hard that his shoulders were shuddering from the force of it.
Half-rising from his chair, Vittorio peered over the table, a small smile playing about his lips as Herbert’s hands appeared at the edge of the table and the blond vampire pulled himself back to his feet, hastily smoothing his lapels and his hair.
“What was that for?” he demanded, turning a wounded look on Dawn.
Delicately sipping her wine, Dawn smiled innocently up at him. “I have the hot lusty feelings for you, Herbert,” she said, her expression utterly serious. “I want you to know so I can jump you tonight.”
“Dawn!” the Slayer squealed, but was - gratifyingly - silenced by her lover’s fingertips, Vittorio’s amused eyes on the vampire and his lover’s sister.
Grey eyes went round. “Have you ever drunk alcohol before?” he demanded. “Is this some drunken madness?”
Dawn’s smile was as wicked as his could be. “What worries you more? Being molested by me when drunk or sober?” She put the glass down and started to rise. “C’mon! Let’s get to the hot monkey sex!”
Back-stepping, Herbert almost tripped, staggering against William’s chair. “You’re bluffing,” he said, forcing himself to stand his ground.
“Oh yeah?” Stepping up right in front of him, Dawn caught him by the front of his shirt. She raised her eyebrows, cocking her head. “You wanna see me bluff taking your clothes off?”
He stared down at her and - by the fire - von Krolock could see how uncertain his son was. As far as he knew, Herbert had taken but one female lover and it had been a disastrously uncomfortable affair and now, the younger Miss Summers was proving her mettle to her sister, her friends and, above all, to Herbert.
Moving from the mantle, he approached them, could see the hopeful desperation in Herbert’s eyes over Dawn’s shoulders. Beyond both of them, young William was doubled over and biting on his knuckles to stifle his laughter.
“Perhaps I should excuse you both to more private quarters,” he murmured, terribly amused by the sudden flare of outraged panic on Herbert’s face.
“Father!”
Coming to a halt behind Dawn, von Krolock unfolded his hands and laid them on the girl’s slender shoulders, drawing her back a step. Unresisting, she was all but pressed back against his chest, and he could feel the heady throb of her blood through her flesh, thrumming with delighted excitement.
“I think you have proved your point, liebling,” he murmured, lowering his head so no other could hear what he was saying to her. “Now stop scaring poor Herbert, else I fear William may do himself a permanent injury.”
Tilting her head to look up at him, she gave him a thoroughly angelic smile that belied the wickedness he had just seen. His hands tightened on her shoulders briefly, the rush of desire more potent than any he had felt for decades, and he knew that he would have her, if it killed them both.
If she felt it, Dawn made no indication of it.
“Still think he’ll eat me?” she asked, giving her sister an impish smile.
The Slayer looked both amused and bemused, staring at Herbert as if she had never seen such a thing in her life. “Uh... no... not so much.”
“So...” From the other side of the table, between giggles, the witch inquired, “Not so much a fan of the ladies, huh?”
Trying to reclaim a little of his dignity, Herbert resumed his seat, folding his hands on the table and lifting his chin imperiously. “I prefer the company of equals,” he said, in as serious a tone as he could manage.
“And you hang out with Spike?” the Slayer sounded genuinely incredulous.
The look Herbert directed at William was at once threat, promise and adoration. “I do,” he said, the fondness in his words unmistakeable. “I challenge you to say that we are not equally handsome and charming.”
“Insulting my hair colour aside...?” The Slayer looked between the two younger vampires, then focussed her attention pointedly at Herbert. “Yeah, I guess you’ve both got the cheekbones...”
“Cheekbones? Is that all?”
Unnoticed by the group at the table, save perhaps Vittorio, Dawn lifted her hand to squeeze the fingers that still rested on her shoulders. “Taken care of,” she murmured, tilting her head against von Krolock’s jaw.
The small smile that touched his lips was palpable against her brow. “And it was admirably done,” he replied for her ears only.
With a last squeeze to his hand, she drew away from him. Sitting back down beside Herbert, she gave arranged her napkin just as neatly as before, smoothing it across her lap. “So, yeah...” she said, looking up, across the table, at her sister. “I’m staying.”
“Hold on...” The Slayer waved her into silence, apparently caught up in the tale Herbert was weaving of his first encounter with Dawn.
As von Krolock took his own seat, his hands resting on the arms, he glanced towards Dawn from beneath his lashes. She was smiling, shaking her head indulgently, but there was an undeniable edge of triumph in her posture.
She would be staying, of that he had no doubt, and, much to his surprise and admiration, she had ensured her sister would agree to it.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“You’ll let us know if anything happens, right?”
“Well, duh!” Dawn hugged Buffy warmly and stepped back. In the front yard of the manor, the sun had just risen and the trio were preparing to leave to journey as far as they could before dusk. “And you’ll call me if you need any help with weird demon codexes?”
“Well, Will’ll take care of that,” Buffy glanced over at the red-haired witch who had already acquired a stack of books and was carefully arranging them in the trunk of the car. They had been borrowed on the solemn oath that if anything happened to them at all, she would pay the small fortune back herself. “I think she wants to make Giles faint with envy that she got to touch ‘em.”
“They’re first editions! Hand-written!” Willow’s head popped around the edge of the trunk. “No one has seen them in two hundred years!”
“Except, y’know, the Graf,” Dawn gave her an amused look.
Willow rolled her eyes, shutting the trunk carefully. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she protested, approaching Dawn and gesturing for a hug. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
Briefly embracing Willow, Dawn nodded. “I’ve been okay for a month already,” she reminded them. “I’ll be fine. And hey! You’re the one who said you wanted to move into the library!”
Blushing, Willow looked briefly sheepish. “But it’s so big,” she mumbled.
From the doorway of the manor, there was a snort of mirth.
“Screw you, Herbert!” Dawn threw over her shoulder.
“You wish, darling!” his voice floated back.
Shaking her head and laughing, Buffy squinted at the doorway. “What is it about us that brings out the crazy in the vampires?” she asked.
“Good looks and the fact we can kick their asses without breaking a sweat?” Dawn suggested with a grin. Buffy’s expression sobered and Dawn looked down as Buffy took her hand. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“You better be,” Buffy said gruffly, though there was a tremor to her voice. “I don’t wanna have to come all the way out here and kick their asses.”
Dawn nodded at once. “They’d be pretty mad if you had to do that,” she agreed, her expression deadly earnest. “I don’t think Herbert would like to see you rumpling his new suits.”
With a roll of her eyes, Buffy opened the car door. “I’ll rumple ‘em good if he does anything to you.”
“Don’t worry!” Dawn laughed. “If he tries, I’ll chase him with girly cooties.”
“The poor boy,” Vittorio murmured, leaning against the hood of the car. “I dread to think how he will manage with you present indefinitely.”
Grinning evilly in the direction of the door, Dawn’s eyes danced. “Oh, he’ll learn pretty quick, I think,” she said. Opening her arms, she hugged Vittorio fondly. “You look after Buffy. You know how much trouble she can be.”
“Hey!” her sister called, half-way into the car, shoving a bag under the back seat.
“Naturalmente.” Vittorio kissed Dawn’s brow softly, then gazed at her seriously, her chin cupped lightly in his palm. “I expect you do not need further warnings, nor lectures, sorella piccola.” His brows drew together pensively, his voice lowered that Buffy wouldn’t overhear. “But you must proceed with care. For yourself and for others. There are deep emotions in this house.”
Dawn stared at him for a moment, then looked him up and down. “How long have you know him, then?”
One side of Vittorio’s mouth curved upwards. “Long enough, sorella,” he replied, placing another soft kiss to her forehead, then drawing back. “Longer than any of us would admit.”
“Deep emotions...” Dawn glanced over her shoulder thoughtfully. “Yeah. Figures.”
Scooting out of the car, Buffy dusted her hands down. “I think that’s everything,” she said, propping her hands on her hips and looking around. “You got everything, Will?” The witch nodded. “Vittorio?”
“I think we are prepared.”
With a last hug for her sister and the whisper of threat and promise for the vampires waiting inside, Buffy bundled her lover and friend into the car, rolling down the window to reach out one arm and hug Dawn a last time.
“If you don’t call me regularly, I’ll come here and kill you myself,” she whispered against Dawn’s ear.
“Like you called every week when you were at school!” Dawn laughed, returning the tight hug.
“I didn’t go to school with vampires,” Buffy reminded her, sitting back.
“Oh yeah?”
With a roll of her eyes, the Slayer laughed. “Okay, maybe a few. Now, you be good, okay? And don’t kill anyone, unless you have to.”
“You too.”
Stepping back, Dawn watched and waved as the car roared down the drive, tossing up gravel. Only when the gates swung closed did she turn around and walk back towards the door.
“Looks like you’re stuck with us, pet,” Spike was leaning against one of the columns that lined the hall, a pleased grin on his face.
“I concur,” Herbert added, stepping out of the shadows on the opposite side. “And I believe I owe you a mortal humiliation for the events of last night.”
Closing the door behind her, blocking out the daylight, Dawn smirked. “You can try, Herbert,” she said with mock-sweetness.
“And I am sure he will,” the third voice spoke from the middle of the hall. At once, Dawn moved past the two younger vampires to approach von Krolock. “So, you do not regret your decision?”
Offering him her hand, she smiled as he claimed it and kissed her fingertips. “Do you?” she asked, a hint of mischief in her blue eyes.
“We shall see,” he murmured, before vanishing in a swirl of black silk.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Looking up from the text he was halfway through translating, Giles rose from his seat, startled, at the sight of Willow laden down with a vast box of books. “Willow? Oh, thank goodness. When we didn’t hear...”
“Hey! You won’t believe what I found!” she exclaimed excitedly, hastily pushing past him to put the box on her desk. “A first edition of the Shendron codex!”
“I-I... what?”
“Shendron codex!” Willow repeated, lifting the book out of the box and placing it down carefully. “And he let me borrow his second copy of that...” She gestured urgently. “Whatsit... the documents from the middle of the Middle ages...”
“Willow, what about Dawn?”
Blinking at her employer, Willow forced herself down from the high of the ancient books that were lying in her hands. “Uh... Dawnie?” She frowned. “Oh, yeah! She’s staying there for a while.”
“I beg your...”
“Oh and Buffy’s gone to Rome with Vittorio...”
“Wait a moment, what did you say about Dawn remaining there?”
Her brow wrinkled, Willow stared at him. “Um... the vampire hadn’t eaten her and she’s staying there so she can learn stuff from him...?” she offered. “Don’t worry! I don’t think Spike would let them eat her.”
“Willow, Spike is dead...”
“Nuh-uh...”
“Spike isn’t dead?”
“Didn’t look like it,” Arranging the books on her desk, she studied the covers. “I think he has a thing with the Graf’s son.” She carefully opened one of the texts. “Does this look like Sumerian to you?”
Looking both mortally pained and perplexed, Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Perhaps I am overtired, but correct me if I am mistaken; you have left Dawn in the care of the most powerful vampire on this side of the Atlantic with a vampire who died when the Hellmouth was destroyed?”
“Yup,” Willow flipped a page carefully. “So... Sumerian?”
“Willow!”
Looking up, surprised, Willow cocked her head. “Huh?”
“The Graf von Krolock isn’t any normal vampire,” Giles’s voice had the first hints of worry and anger. “How could you just leave Dawn there?”
Shrugging, Willow sat down at her desk. “We needed someone to be our liaison with him,” she replied. “Did I even start to tell you about his library? He has every book ever written ever.”
“Liaison?” Giles echoed faintly.
“Yeah,” Willow beamed up at him. “He’s gonna help us if he can.”
“The Graf von Krolock?”
“Big guy, magical, super-powerful? Yep.”
Sitting down heavily on the edge of the desk, Giles stared at her. “I think,” he said seriously. “I need a strong drink.”
RATING: PG at most. No kinks. Surprised? Me too! :D
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series. In order: Til The Moon Is Abed (Slash/Het), Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, the chapter immediately preceding this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Herbert/Spike, Buffy/the Immortal (ie. Vittorio) and miscellaneous implied ones.
WORDS: 9586
NOTES: Someone should give bwinter a cheerleader outfit and some pompoms. I've never been on such a roll with any fic series before, especially not with chapters as big as these and storylines in such dramatic arcs. *squishes* I quite adore you, m'darling!
___________________________
“So, what did I miss?”
Looking up from the screen he was studying, leaning over Willow’s shoulder, Giles didn’t alter his expression quickly enough for his head Slayer. “Ah, Buffy! How was the gathering?”
Buffy frowned, looking from one face to the other in consternation. “Okay... you look worried, Willow’s all frowny and you’re both using an actual computer instead of just doing the big mojo.”
“Busted,” Willow muttered, scooting the mouse across the desk.
Rubbing his brow, Giles removed his glasses “A... situation has arisen.”
“And this is a new thing because...?” Dropping her hefty shoulder-bag by the door, she walked into the large office space. “Come on. I go away for a week to the middle of nowhere. How bad can it be?”
“Quite bad, really,” Giles replied, sighing. “Dawn stole your car and now, we think she’s been eaten, turned or taken hostage by one of the most powerful vampire sorcerers of the eighteenth and nineteenth century somewhere in Romania.”
Staring at him, Buffy blinked several times. “Huh?”
“Dawn...”
“Which car?”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “You don’t mind the fact she may have been...”
Buffy made a dismissive gesture. “Dawnie isn’t dumb,” she said. “And with Will’s spells and everything working like they have been up until now, she’ll be fine and on her way back.” Willow and Giles exchanged worried looks. “What?”
“You did hear him say ‘most powerful vampire sorcerer’, right?”
“Yeah, but we have super-wicca,” Buffy said, frowning.
Willow’s expression was pained. “You’re not getting it,” she said, pushing strands of hair back behind her ears. “When we say most powerful, we mean, like, ever. No one ever beat this guy.” She looked apologetic. “I don’t even know if I could.”
Buffy stared at her, colour draining from her face. “And he’s got Dawn?”
“We think so,” Giles confirmed grimly. “And a wretched sense of humour.” he nodded towards the computer screen. “Since Dawn dropped off Willow’s sensors and the tracking device she carries has been blocked, we had no idea until we received this message.”
Approaching, Buffy leaned over Willow’s shoulder to read, her hands resting on the back of the witch’s chair. “What is this?”
“The conclusion of my rare book transaction with the Graf von Krolock,” Giles replied, glancing at her. “It is polite to leave feedback once deliveries are made.”
“‘Books perfect. Delivery rapid. Condition acceptable. Delivery agent delicious.’”
Under Buffy’s hands, the back of Willow’s chair cracked in half, the Slayer’s expression ugly with fury. “Find them,” she said tersely. “If they’ve done anything to Dawnie, I’ll kick their ass, super-mojo-guy or not.”
“This is where further problems arise,” Giles said quietly, carefully. He didn’t flinch back from the look on Buffy’s face, which was quite the feat. “Where ever they are, they are concealed.”
“Giles, find them,” Buffy’s voice was cold, hard. “I don’t care what it takes. She’s my baby sister, and no one hurts my baby sister.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Perhaps it would be prudent to wait until dawn.”
Standing beside the car, axe in one hand, sword in the other, Buffy didn’t look down at her lover. “It’s taken me long enough to find this place,” she said. “I want to know that Dawn’s okay.”
After two and a half weeks of driving in erratic circles in the area where Dawn had vanished, a house had appeared in the forest in front of them. Willow had baulked and confirmed that it was, indeed, the place.
Now, they had driven up the drive and were presently parked several metres from the front door with one very irate Slayer presently arming herself with an impressive arsenal and a fierce temper.
“That is understandable, mio tesoro,” Emerging from the car, Vittorio gazed up at the manor, his perfect brows drawing together. “But placing yourself in unnecessary danger would not be wise.”
Under any other circumstances, Buffy would have listened to her immortal lover, but with her younger sister’s life at stake, his centuries of experience fell on deaf ears.
“I think he’s right,” Willow added. She was leaning against the side of the car, looking incredibly pale, her eyes half-closed. “There’s something way wiggy about this place.”
“Too much mojo?”
Shaking her head tightly, Willow drew a slow breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s not here,” she said, covering her eyes with a hand. “I... I can’t sense it, even though I can see it. Whatever is shielding it is way up the power chart.”
“And whatever the hell it is, it has Dawn.”
Vittorio glanced at Willow, then back at Buffy. “I expect that nothing we can say will dissuade you, bella?” he murmured.
“Damn straight.”
“Then perhaps, to catch them by surprise, you might knock at the door?” The Slayer gave him a look and he raised his hands. “It was but a suggestion.”
“You stay with Willow,” Buffy said. “I’m going in.”
Giving the red-haired witch an apologetic look as he slipped an arm loosely around her shoulder to hold her upright, Vittorio sighed. “Well, she cannot say that I did not give her warning,” he murmured.
“You know Buffy,” Willow mumbled, leaning against him. She was shivering as if she had been tossed into icy water, her hands tensed by her sides. “If something’s not worth doing dramatically, it’s not worth doing at all.”
Buffy threw a look over her shoulder at them, then stalked towards the door. With one deceptively small and dainty foot, she kicked the door wide open, leaving a notable dent in the heavy wood, and stepped into dark hall on the other side.
Somewhere in the darkness, she heard a shriek that made her spine freeze.
Giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, she heard a strange rushing noise as she moved further into the hall. Her hands tensed around her weapons and when she saw the blur of motion, she raised the sword.
The movement came closer and...
Dawn?
The tall, slim figure sped past. It looked like it was skidding across the floor, and was followed by two other speeding figures, but with several prominent differences.
Vampires!
Lifting the axe above her head to toss in an over-arm at one of them, Buffy narrowed her eyes. The vampire tackled the screaming Dawn, but as Buffy tried to throw her weapon, the shadows spread along the blade of the axe suddenly grasped and ripped it from her hand, sending it clattering across the floor.
And in the swirl of blackness, Buffy could have sworn she saw glittering dark eyes, boiling with rage.
Apparently alerted to the assault, both the vampires whirled around with hisses.
“SILENCE!”
The roar shook the building to the foundations.
Her heart racing, Buffy stared around wildly for the owner of the voice. Her spine prickled and she spun, launching a punch, which was caught against a broad palm, forcing her back. A face loomed from the shadows above her, and this time there could be no mistaking the thunderous rage in the black eyes.
Automatically, she struck out with her other hand, but the blade was batted aside as if she had hit him with nothing more than a feather. Not only was he impressively tall, but he seemed so much freakishly stronger than she remembered any vampire being recently.
“You dare to invade my home,” the voice was a rumble of a snarl. “You attack my guests and my family!”
“You attacked mine first!” Buffy exclaimed, trying to pull her fist free from the iron-tight grip.
From behind her, she heard the scuffle of feet, heard her sister’s voice, “Buffy?”
Black eyes gazed at her penetratingly then looked beyond her. “This is your sister, Miss Summers?” Apparently, the unspoken answer was enough. His hand released hers and he prowled past her, as if she were no longer of interest.
Turning, confused, Buffy saw Dawn standing between the two vampires that had been chasing her, looking equally bemused and totally alive. “Dawnie!” As she move to rush to her sister, long-fingered hand gripped her upper arm like a vice and she looked up angrily.
The vampire stared down at her coldly. “You believe I will allow you near my kin?”
“She’s my sister!”
“You have shown no reason that I should allow you near her.” The vampire circled her with the flare of a dark cloak, heavy silver hair sweeping around his face. “You have broken into and vandalised my home to say nothing of your attempt to attack those under my protection. Your violence and manners are deplorable.”
“Look, buddy...”
“Buffy...” Dawn’s voice sounded like she was wincing.
Abruptly, those dark eyes were inches from hers, cold and unwavering. “Do not dare to presume to speak to me thus, infant,” he growled. “My patience is wearing thin. It is only your sister’s presence that has thus far preserved you.”
A wash of light swept over them and the hands that had been gripping Buffy’s arms like pincers released her, leaving her to stagger. The vampire straightened up, a gesture snuffing out the light.
Around them, lamps seemed to light themselves, flooding the hall with a pale glow.
“A single witch and a Slayer? This is how you chose to assault me?”
Glancing over her shoulder at the swaying Willow, who was looking even whiter. Buffy’s expression tightened. “Dawn,” she said, ignoring the vampire between her and her sister. “Come on. We’ve come to take you home. You’re free now.”
Behind the chief vampire, one of the others started laughing aloud.
“Herbert,” Dawn’s voice was suddenly deadly serious. “I thought you said you were going to let them know I was okay.” The giggles intensified and were punctuated by the sound of a smack. “Herbert!”
“Your pardon, darling,” the vampire apparently called Herbert said around a burst of laughter. “I may have accidentally given them the impression that I ate you.”
“Accidentally, my arse!” the second unseen vampire said, laughing.
At that voice, Buffy recoiled as if struck, eyes wide. She felt like she had stepped onto thin ice and beneath her, it was starting to crack. “S...Spike?”
Between them, the looming presence of the chief vampire seemed to draw back from her and closer to the trio. He moved aside, allowing her to see those she had attacked so blindly, two of them familiar faces she knew as well as her own.
Waving faintly, Spike looked like he was trying to smile. “All right, Slayer?”
“But you... you died.”
The vampire shrugged. “Got better,” he replied. He looked it too. Apparently getting toasted did great things for the complexion. His hair, though free of bleach, was longer and shaggy around his ears, sandy in colour. “How’ve you been?”
“Uh... okay, I guess...” Buffy’s eyes darted to her sister, who met her gaze. “You knew he was here?”
“Got an anonymous letter,” Dawn replied, then looked towards the chief vampire, who had moved to stand behind his son, his hands on the vampire called Herbert’s shoulders. “The Graf said I could stay so I could catch up.”
Buffy wondered if it would be a bad time to have her ears checked. “Uh... what?”
“The Graf,” Dawn repeated. “The chief. He said I could stay for a while and I just kinda lost track of time.” She grinned weakly. “And no one has tried to eat me, except Herbert, but he won’t do it again.”
The blond-haired vampire standing to her left folded his hands in front of him and looked innocently up at the ceiling.
“Maybe my brain isn’t working, but huh?”
Dawn sighed. “Look, I’m not in trouble,” she said patiently. “I’m having a vacation.”
“They were chasing you!”
For a moment, Dawn looked sheepish. “We were playing tag,” she mumbled.
“But... but they’re vampires.”
“So was Angel,” Dawn replied evenly.
To her left, Herbert snorted and got an elbow to the ribs.
“But they don’t have souls!”
“Um...” Spike raised a hand.
“Okay, Spike, the undead souled vampire does,” Buffy snapped, pushing a hand through her hair. “Look, Dawn, this place isn’t safe!”
Dawn’s expression revealed nothing. “It’s safer than Sunnydale,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “And I don’t have crazy demons crashing in here, looking for a fight with the Slayer.”
“She makes a valid point, mi bella,” a soft, warm voice spoke from the door.
Turning sharply, Buffy was startled to see that Willow was sitting in the doorway, looking dazed and shaken, Vittorio squatted down beside her. His dark brown eyes rose to the Slayer, then slipped sideways and she saw the smile touch his face.
Straightening up, he approached Buffy, but his eyes were on the chief vampire. She followed his gaze and saw the smile reflected on the vampire’s lips.
“Vittorio,” the vampire murmured, slipping out from behind Herbert and gliding towards them.
Bowing his head politely, his dark hair sweeping against his brow, Vittorio closed the space between them with three paces. “It has been a long time, Johannes,” he murmured, lifting a hand to touch the vampire’s cheek.
A kiss was touched to one cheek, then the other and Buffy found herself staring as their lips brushed briefly, softly.
Drawing back, fingertips trailing against the vampire’s cheek, Vittorio sighed. “You should have come to Milan, Eccellenza.”
Whatever the vampire replied, it was muffled when Dawn’s sudden giggle echoed off the walls. From what Buffy could see, it looked like the blond vampire had fainted into Dawn’s arms, fanning himself with one hand, while Spike was grinning and shaking his head.
“Buffy,” Willow murmured vaguely from the doorway. She had managed to rise, leaning in the frame. “Maybe I’m seeing things cos my magic is all kindsa kahblooey, but did your boyfriend just hit on the guy you came here to dust?”
Glancing over Vittorio’s shoulder, the vampire’s eyebrow rose. “Boyfriend?” he murmured, his lips twitching.
Vittorio turned towards her, offering a hand, which Buffy - bemused beyond the reckoning of it - took, letting him pull her forward. “Miss Summers consented to be my consort,” he said fondly.
“What?” Herbert’s squeal of indignation set Dawn giggling again. “But he... but I never... and he...”
With a lamentable wail, Herbert threw himself into Dawn’s arms. Her legs buckled and she sat down heavily on the polished floor, still laughing, the vampire wailing on her shoulder.
“Children,” the chief vampire murmured, with a subtle gesture of one hand.
Sniffing pointedly and pouting, Herbert got to his feet and dusted himself down. He offered Dawn a hand and hauled her upright. “What does your sister have that I don’t?” he mumbled to her.
Dawn shrugged. “Boobage?” she offered in an undertone. Turning her attention back to her sister, she gave Buffy a look. “See,” she said. “I’m okay. No one is trying to eat me or turn me or anything.”
“You should have told us before you ran off,” Buffy mumbled, groping for the familiar among the madness that seemed to be going on. “You don’t know the danger you could be putting yourself in.”
The smile that had been on Dawn’s face seemed to fade a little. “What part of me being okay here are you not getting?” she said, her voice sharp. “You know I can defend myself if I have to.”
“You don’t need to prove anything, Dawnie,” Buffy said. “C’mon. We’ll go home and you can get ready for college.”
Shaking her head, Dawn stepped back. “I’m staying here,” she said. “I want to stay with Spike for a while.”
“Dawnie...”
“Buffy, I’m nineteen years old! I can decide what I want to do!”
“Dawnie, sweetie, I know,” Raising her hand in a calming manner, Buffy couldn’t help noticing the way the three vampires drifted closer to her sister, almost like they were defending her. “But you don’t want to get stuck in this kind of life again. I didn’t.”
Dawn stared at her. “I’m not you,” she said softly, quietly. “And I know what I want to do. I’m staying.”
Turning, without another word, she walked up the stairs. Spike threw a helpless look at the Slayer, before hurrying after her, but Herbert remained, standing just shy of the chief vampire, leaning casually against the banister.
Buffy frowned.
What was wrong with her sister? Had the vampires done something to her?
Dawn had a chance to be normal, going to school and being around regular people and being regular herself and she wanted to hang out here? With a crazy vampire, Spike and that big, scary looming one, who was watching her deliberately, gravely.
“Bella, perhaps you should let her remain,” Vittorio murmured, kissing her temple gently. “The Graf is not so terrible as some.”
“You flatter, Vittorio,” the vampire murmured. “But I must admit I would be loath to have you believe she was under some kind of spell.” He unfolded his arms and moved closer. “Remain for a time and see that this is her choice alone, Slayer.”
“She would never...”
“She would, Miss Summers,” the vampire said quietly. “I only hope you are not blinded so much that you will not allow yourself to see it.”
Turning away from her, he simply seemed to fade before her vision as he ascended the staircase.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“What the devil are you doing?”
Scowling at the door, Spike fiddled with the two pieces of wire that were presently stuck in the lock of Dawn’s door. “Bit kicked me out,” he said. “Thought I better try and get back in before she does something silly.”
Squatting down beside him, Herbert peered at the wires. “Do you honestly think that will work if she doesn’t want you in there?”
Sighing, Spike shook his head, but continued to wiggle the wires. “Dunno,” he said. “Never seen her get this way before.” Looking up at Herbert, he frowned. “Weren’t you meant to be looking after Red?”
“The young witch?” Herbert grinned slightly. “Oh, yes. Once fed and watered, she seemed to recover quite nicely.”
“And you’re grinning like you just found a pretty little choirboy because…?”
“I let her into the library.”
Spike groaned. “Lemme guess; spontaneous orgasm?”
“Several, unless I was sorely mistaken,” Herbert’s smirk was thoroughly lecherous, his grey eyes glimmering. “Of course, I have little experience on that front, but one would assume that some sounds are universal.”
“You’re a pig,” Spike said succinctly.
“Mm,” Herbert acknowledged. He leaned over the younger vampires and rapped on the door, tilting his head. “Dawn?” he inquired. “Darling, are you going to sulk in there all day or may I come in and discuss your sister’s boyfriend?” There was no reply and Herbert’s eyebrows rose. “What did you say to her to make her so angry, William?”
The younger vampire shrugged. “I was just saying maybe she should go back for the college thing, like Buffy said,” he replied. “And she kicked me out!”
“Oh, William,” Herbert sighed woefully. “You really have no understanding of the minds of women, do you?” Spike blinked at him mutely. “By agreeing with her sister, you have only supported her belief that she thinks she is seen as a child.”
“But she is!”
Herbert rolled his eyes, an expression that froze on his face.
“What?”
Following Herbert’s line of sight, Spike turned his head to look behind him and promptly dropped his lockpick.
“Leave the door, William,” von Krolock said quietly.
“Just want to check on her,” Spike mumbled, lowering his eyes.
“If she wished for that, she would have let you in,” the Graf murmured. “She does not desire your company.” His eyes lingered on Spike. “And I believe you had words with her sister several hours ago.”
Spike went rigid. “We... she thought I forced Dawn to stay.”
“Mm.” Von Krolock lifted his eyes to the door. He gazed at it for a moment, then nodded, as if he had been made aware of something. “It makes no difference now. The child is not within.”
“What?” Spike scrambled to his feet. “Where is she?”
“Somewhere that you cannot harass her further.” Von Krolock’s hand caught Spike’s shoulder as he tried to hurry away. “William, leave her.”
“But...”
“I will not say it again, William.”
Lowering his eyes, Spike nodded, chewing on his lower lip. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”
“I shall tend her,” von Krolock replied, his other hand lifting Spike’s chin, forcing the younger vampire to meet his eyes. “She will make her own decisions, William, whether they are to your approval or not. I would suggest you accept them.”
“Yes, sir,” Spike mumbled.
“Very good.” Von Krolock said, brushing a brief kiss against Spike’s lips. “Trust me.”
With a prickle of some kind unease running down his spine, Spike nodded, lowering his eyes meekly and when next he looked up, von Krolock was gone.
Behind him, he felt Herbert rise a moment before an arm slipped around his waist. “He did not look very pleased,” Herbert murmured against Spike’s ear, idly stroking Spike’s stomach.
“Stating the obvious your gift, then?” Spike said more sharply than he intended.
Herbert drew back a little, as if subdued, then spun Spike to face him, gripping the younger vampire’s wrists in a steely hold. “It was friendly observation,” he said quietly, eyes glittering. “He will take care of her, you know.”
“I know!” Spike tried to pull his hands free. “D’you think I need to be told? But if he turns the Bit, so help me…”
Slowly, Herbert started to grin. “It’ll be interesting to see him try it,” he said, then pulled Spike bodily against him. “I think she can play this game as well as he.”
“The Niblet?” Spike stared at the elder vampire incredulously.
“Mm,” Herbert leaned in to claim a chaste kiss then smiled slowly against Spike’s lips. “Why do you think she and I did not kill one another while father was otherwise occupied with you?”
“You wouldn’t have dared!”
Herbert grinned slowly, wickedly. “I did,” he purred. “And she managed to outwit me. A clever girl you have there, and one who does not object to using tricks and cunning where the obvious is not enough.”
Blue eyes blinked several times. “Niblet outdid you?”
“Several times,” Herbert admitted freely. “I underestimated her.” He glanced upwards, as if seeing something beyond the stone of the ceiling and walls then looked back at Spike. “Do you think she likes chains?”
“I don’t need to think about that!” Spike exclaimed, voice rising in pitch.
Herbert laughed wickedly. “Oh, really?” he murmured.
Suddenly, Spike found himself thrown over Herbert’s shoulder. Giving the younger vampire a firm pat on the buttock, Herbert smiled. “Let us remedy that.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Standing on the balcony, arms folded over her chest, Dawn stared unseeing at the sun-washed landscape in front of her. Her hair was ripping free from her ponytail, whipping against her cheeks, which were rosy from the cold. It was getting closer to evening, and she could feel the chill in the air as the sky started to change colours.
Behind her, in the shelter of the room, she knew he was watching her. She knew he had allowed her to hear the whisper of his cloak moments earlier, letting her know that he was present, watching her from the shadows. Something told her he had been watching her in ways she didn’t understand since the minute she arrived.
“They will find you,” he murmured finally.
“Been here a month,” Dawn replied, shivering slightly. “I think I can find more places to hide than they can look.”
“But do you wish to go on hiding?”
Dawn sighed, looking down at the balustrade in front of her. She reached out to flick a loose piece of stone away. “I... I just want to have some time away from them,” she said quietly. “Didn’t realise it until I got here.”
“You feel smothered by them,” the Graf’s voice was quiet, mellifluous.
“And you keep on sticking your nose in my head,” Dawn retorted with half-hearted annoyance. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I know I’m the baby, I’m not a kid anymore.” She saw him nod. Her fingertips pressed against the worn stone. “Haven’t been since I saw Buffy die.”
Standing on the edge of the slice of daylight that cut across the floor of the room, von Krolock gazed at her. “Have you told her?”
“What? That seeing my big sister and the only family had left killing herself to save me, her non-sister’s life, messed me up a bit?” Laughing bitterly, Dawn shook her head and looked away. “How do you say that?” She shuddered a little, as if seeing something replay behind her eyes. “Seeing anyone die is enough to make you grow up real fast, but when it’s your fault...”
“It was a decision she made,” von Krolock observed quietly, skirting the daylight and approaching the anti-solar glass. “Would you have done the same, were you in her place?”
Reluctantly, Dawn nodded, looking away from him. “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t still have nightmares about it,” she said quietly. “Mom was bad enough, then Buffy... Tara... Spike too.” Her smile was fainter. “Started to wonder if it was me. Wondered if people died because I loved them.”
Von Krolock didn’t move and, on the opposite side of the glass, his grave expression didn’t change, but something... felt different about the way he was looking at her.
Looking away from him, trying to push down the emotion she had been trying to fight since Buffy had arrived, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I must sound like such a kid,” she muttered, “Sulking about how people kept dying around me and leaving me. Not like they wanted to.”
“It was no more your fault than the sun’s rising,” His voice washed over her in a soothing wave and she felt the heat of tears on her cheeks. Covering her face with her hand, she bit down on her lip to stifle any sound. “Miss Summers...”
“I’m good,” she whispered, the lie sour in her throat.
“You need not pretend, dear child.”
Dawn laughed weakly. “Why not? Everyone else does.” She turned to look at him, uncaring of the faint streaks of mascara she knew she had smeared. “Thanks to them, I’m just a normal kid now, working at a normal institute and have a normal life.”
His dark eyes gazed solemnly at her. “You should not be forced to live their lies,” he said quietly. “Your life is your own.”
“They don’t think so,” Dawn’s voice was tense, shaking. “I heard them yelling at each other outside my door. They still think I’m the same little girl I was, back in Sunnydale. They still think I can’t hear what they’re saying when I’m right there. They think I don’t care enough to listen.”
Von Krolock nodded, his hands folded before him. “Then to be kind, you must be cruel,” he said softly. “If you cannot break free with gentleness and prove yourself to them, then you must show them that you are strong enough to stand alone.”
“What am I meant to do?” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Refuse to go back with them and stay here, just because it would prove a point? How could I tell Buffy that I feel more at home here than in a nice, normal apartment at a nice, normal school with a nice normal group of friends?”
“Is that what you feel?”
Lowering her eyes, Dawn nodded. “Better than being surrounded by Slayers all the time,” she said so quietly it was barely audible. “You don’t make me pretend that everything is normal and fine.”
“You would be welcome,” von Krolock sounded so sincere that she looked up at him incredulously. He stepped closer to the glass. “But no pretending. I am not a mortal gentleman. You are not merely a naive little girl.” He gazed at her through the tinted panel. “We would be what and who we are.”
“You’re a killer,” she said quietly, approaching the glass.
“I am.”
She held his gaze willingly, brow creased with thought. “You have no soul.”
“None.”
“Given the chance, you’ll probably kill me eventually and turn me into one of you,” she murmured, unfolding her arms.
Von Krolock slowly nodded. “It is likely,” he admitted, “Though it would not be without regret.”
Dawn smiled slightly, sadly. “I’d like to see you try it,” she murmured. She looked down, then back up at him. “I always thought I wanted a normal life, y’know. A life without demons and vampires and death and everything.”
“And now?”
“Now?” She lifted her hand and pressed it to the sun-lit glass. “Now, I know I never could live with it.” She watched the faint smear of condensation spread around her fingers. “I’ve seen too much to ever be just a normal girl.”
“And you would choose to live with vampires, the very things your sister has fought for so long?”
She shrugged. “Can’t see me fitting in at any school anywhere,” she mumbled, one side of her mouth rising as she added, “Unless it was Hogwarts.” Her eyes lifted to him. “You could teach me more than any of them, I bet.”
The smile that touched his lips was so soft, so unlike his usual grave expression, that she found herself returning it.
His hand rose and was placed against the glass, palm-to-palm with hers.
“If that is your wish, Dawn,” he said, his eyes holding hers.
It was the first time she could recall him using her forename and she was startled by how much it pleased her.
Without hesitation, she nodded, then gasped as his fingers slid through the surface of the glass as if it were water. Threading between hers, his fingers brushed lightly against the back of her palm, and he drew her through the glass.
“Then stay,” he said softly.
Squeezing his hand, Dawn granted him a brief, shy smile that was nothing like her usual grin. “You’re gonna regret this, Mister,” she said. “Letting me and Spike live in the same building indefinitely? You’ll be nuts within a week.”
Lifting her hand to his lips, he returned her smile with a wicked one of his own. “I look forward to it,” he murmured, kissing the back of her palm.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“How can she want to stay here, in this creepy house with those creepy guys?”
Sprawled on his belly on a broad bed, chin resting on his folded hands, Vittorio watched her pace. “Bella,” he murmured. “Have you ever considered that she does not want a normal life?”
Buffy turned and blinked. “What kind of crazy talk is that?” she demanded. “I know I would have given anything to be just a normal girl when I was her age. I wanted to go to movies and do homework and study…”
“But you have not had a life like hers,” he observed.
That stopped the Slayer mid-pace, and she turned to look at him. “What? With having to deal with the Slay-y stuff?”
Vittorio slowly shook his head. “No, bella,” he murmured. “It is far simpler than that; you have grown with being a Slayer. You have those who support you and aid you and have grown with you. She, as sister, saw only from the outside. She had none to support and guide her as you have. She has had experiences that you have not.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said, approaching the bed. “She didn’t have to stop the apocalypse.”
“No, no, no, bella.” Leaning up on one arm, Vittorio motioned for her to sit close to him. “You misunderstand. You were destined to this life, to know the things you know, to see the things you have seen. She was not.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Buffy twisted her fingers together. “I tried to keep her away from it all,” she mumbled. “Things sucked enough for me. I didn’t want them to find out.”
“I know.” His arm slipped around her waist as he leaned closer to her and gazed up at her. “But such things are sometimes beyond our control. This is the life she has grown with, since an age where such things are important.”
“But I wanted out, when I was her age,” Buffy turned in his embrace to look down at him. “I hated being so different, so isolated by what I was and what I had to do.”
Vittorio nodded understandingly. “But you were already in all ways yourself, when you were shown this life,” he observed gently. “You were upon the final steps of the path to adulthood. Dawn was but a child.”
“She still had normal stuff to do!”
“And do it, she did, but she looked to you, her elder, her better,” Vittorio slowly sat up and drew Buffy into his arms. “As little as it pleases you, she was drawn to the life that repulses you so. Since your arrival in Sunnydale, it has been so.”
“She shouldn’t,” Buffy whispered. “I tried to stop it.”
“Not truly,” Vittorio countered.
“But I…”
“Bella, look to your friends,” he murmured. “You have been surrounded by those with powers that captivate those without. You likely did not notice, as you had such strengths yourself. It became as natural to you as breathing. But she saw these powers, she saw what you could do, what you did do.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “For a child, enthralled by powers she could not understand, you were as magical and wondrous as a superhero.” He gave her a brief, gentle smile. “Do you not see how she could long to be like you? To steep herself in the darkness, that she might touch a little of the incredible feats you have performed?”
The Slayer stared at him. “But she’s… she’s just a kid,” she mumbled.
“No longer, bella,” Vittorio said softly. “You are hiding your eyes from the truth. It has been many years since Dawn has been a child.” He laced his fingers between hers, watching their hands. “Even without your strength and skill, she has done more than many mortals would dare, more than many of your Slayers have.”
“I keep telling her she doesn’t have to,” Buffy mumbled, squeezing his hand. “I just want her to be safe. I couldn’t stand to lose her. Mom trusted me to look after her.”
Vittorio nodded solemnly. “But how can she ever grow, if you keep her locked in a cage for her whole life?” he asked. “The bars may not be visible, but as long as you keep her by your side, she will feel trapped. She is a strong young woman, bella. She only needs you to trust in her.”
“I do trust her,” Buffy protested weakly.
Her lover lifted his dark eyes to her gravely. “If that is true, then you would not doubt her now,” he said.
“This is different!”
His eyebrow arched. “Because it is vampires?”
“Yes! I… no…” Frowning, Buffy stared at their joined hands. “Kinda, yes.” She admitted in a mumble. “Willow says this guy is way powerful and way strong. I don’t trust him not to hurt Dawnie.”
“Then you must trust your sister,” he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. “If you do not trust her to protect herself when she has a friend close at hand, then how could you ever trust her in the world beyond your sight?”
Nodding, Buffy’s frown deepened. “Do you think she’ll be okay here?” she asked quietly.
“How can a bird learn to fly, if it is not permitted to spread its wings?” Vittorio asked, stroking his thumb against her knuckles.
“This… Graf-guy…” Hazel eyes rose to him. “You two… you have a history, right?”
One side of Vittorio’s mouth curled up minutely. “I have known him for several centuries,” he murmured. “And I know that is not what you meant, but it is what you need to know.” Buffy blushed, recognising the softly-spoken reprimand. “He is powerful, strong and wise.”
“But still a vampire.”
Vittorio nodded. “But he is honourable and, above all things, a gentleman,” he said. “I do not believe he would harm your sister intentionally any more than Dawn would allow herself to be harmed.”
Chewing on her lower lip, Buffy stared at their fingers. “I guess it’ll only be for a while,” she mumbled reluctantly, leaning into Vittorio’s arms and resting her head on his shoulder. “I mean,” she laughed faintly. “she wouldn’t wanna stay here forever.”
“As you say, bella,” her lover murmured against her temple, never more grateful that she could not see the expression in his eyes. “Who would wish to remain here forever?”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It certainly appeared civil.
Alas that such tranquil surfaces so often belied that which lay beneath.
As he sat at the head of the grand oak table in the dining room, von Krolock’s eyes were half-closed as he surveyed his guests. To his right, Dawn Summers was seated, and to his left, Vittorio, the Immortal. The younger Miss Summers and William were flanking Herbert, who was looking across the table at the elder Miss Summers.
The last guest was the young witch, who was currently extolling the wonder of his library, something which - under any other circumstance - would have been a source of delightful indulgence, her giddiness amusing.
However, faced by the emotional barrage of six overwrought beings, his head felt as it had when Herbert had snared a drummer boy from the Imperial army nearly two centuries earlier. He had thought the throbbing in his temples would never cease.
His chin cupped in one hand, he watched the conversation, involving himself as little as possible, words passed from one to the other like unwanted scrap and handed on as quickly as possible.
“So… uh… Spike…”
Looking up from the breadstick he had been using, to trace patterns in his blood, the youngest of the vampires looked startled. “Red?”
The witch beamed at him. “So… you’re alive, huh?”
“Tell me something,” Herbert’s voice bluntly interrupted whatever reply William might have made, his grey eyes fixed on the Slayer. “Can you begin to imagine why your… lover chooses to call my father ‘excellency’?”
Looking from Herbert to the quietly-chuckling Vittorio, the Slayer looked vaguely bemused. “I guess because it’s his title?” she said.
“Oh, I suppose that may be part of it,” Herbert made a grand gesture with one hand. “Admittedly, I can hardly speak for my father’s manner, but I’m sure it covers much, much more.”
“Herbert.” Von Krolock sighed.
“No, Eccellenza,” Vittorio raised his hand mildly. “Your son is right.”
The unfortunate William had chosen a terrible moment to sip some of the wine, spluttering rudely and hastily covering his mouth with one hand.
Ignoring William’s hasty attempt to mop up the patina of wine he had spattered across the table, von Krolock’s lips twitched slightly. “It is generous of you to say so, Vittorio,” he murmured.
Vittorio bowed his head elegantly. “I speak only the truth,” he murmured, and to one who knew him so well, the lingering affection from their brief and passionate affair laced every word. The Slayer, however, seemed unaware, or was simply amused by the thought. “Linguist, poet, sorcerer, alchemy… was there any field you did not excel in, mio signore?”
“I have had some time to practise,” von Krolock murmured, unable to deny that there, among many reasons, had he been drawn to the handsome immortal. For someone to turn Herbert’s words against him was skill indeed.
Resuming his petulant pouting, Herbert folded his arms over his chest.
“Um…” The witch seemed to see a place for her to slip back into the conversation, now that Herbert had been silenced. “Actually, there was something I was kinda wondering about, sir…”
Unfurling his fingers in a gesture to speak, von Krolock gazed at her. She had power, of that there was no doubt, but there was such fearful restraint, a shadow overlying her, a stain that cut deep into her soul.
“You have every book ever, right?” She looked so earnest and eager that he suppressed a slight smile. “I mean, I looked up some of the more obscure codexes that… well, you know you hear of them, but you don’t know if they exist because demons aren’t exactly good with the keeping-of-records and you kinda have them all here and I was… I mean, would you mind a whole lot if we could refer to you?”
“I see no reason why not,” he murmured. He could see Herbert shifting from the corner of his eye, could sense an impending outburst, and directed his gaze fully at his son, who was glaring across the table. “Herbert.”
Grey eyes darted towards him then back to the Immortal, who had lifted his lover’s hand to his lips and was kissing her fingertips. Ah, his one desire that he had never succeeded in attaining or even intriguing. Alas, that his son could not understand that Vittorio’s interest lay in only women.
And one exception.
“I was merely wondering if that was the Slayer’s natural hair colour,” Herbert’s expression was bland, but his eyes were flashing. Beside him, Dawn groaned and sank down in her chair.
“Could ask you the same, goldielocks,” the Slayer said with mock-sweetness, not even looking at him. She leaned closer and kissed Vittorio lightly and, von Krolock sensed, deliberately.
Herbert scowled, nails scratching against the surface of the table.
On his other side, William leaned closer and touched his arm, but was shrugged off with a glare. “Herbie, mate, she’s not worth the fuss…”
“Not what you used to say.” Buffy finally turned away from Vittorio and looked across the table at him.
Closing his eyes wearily, von Krolock tried to stave off the sudden flare of ire from the second vampire. Pushing his chair back, he rose from the table with such smooth swiftness that all eyes leapt to him.
Unspeaking, he crossed the floor to the fireplace, staring down at the flames.
It would not do to turn his ire upon his son now, not with the presence of his new guest so recently agreed upon. Still, his teeth ground together, his hands folded behind his back, the stifling silence from the table only adding to the building frustration.
A second chair scraped on the stone floor and he felt the approach of the younger Miss Summers.
And yet, he could not deny his shock when her small, warm hand reached out and touched his arm in a wordless gesture that was still full of meaning. Glancing down at her, he could see the concern on her face, the genuine worry, for him of all people.
“I know what’s going on,” she said softly, little more than a whisper then gave him a small smile that he was sure only he saw. “Lemme take care of it.”
Barely nodding, he felt her hand slide against his arm as she pulled away as if she had scorched him with flame.
From beneath his lashes, he watched her return to the table and sit down, as if nothing had happened, arranging a napkin across her lap, picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. All eyes had switched from him to her.
“Oh, Herbert,” she said suddenly, turning and looking at him.
With a beckoning gesture, she drew him closer. He looked baffled, as if expecting to hear some warning or other, then uttered an indignant squawk when she caught his face between her hands and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
For a split-second, there was a shocked silence, then Herbert plummeted off his seat and landed on the floor, shattering the stillness with the same effect of a rock through a window.
William was the first to laugh, applauding as he did so, laughing so hard that his shoulders were shuddering from the force of it.
Half-rising from his chair, Vittorio peered over the table, a small smile playing about his lips as Herbert’s hands appeared at the edge of the table and the blond vampire pulled himself back to his feet, hastily smoothing his lapels and his hair.
“What was that for?” he demanded, turning a wounded look on Dawn.
Delicately sipping her wine, Dawn smiled innocently up at him. “I have the hot lusty feelings for you, Herbert,” she said, her expression utterly serious. “I want you to know so I can jump you tonight.”
“Dawn!” the Slayer squealed, but was - gratifyingly - silenced by her lover’s fingertips, Vittorio’s amused eyes on the vampire and his lover’s sister.
Grey eyes went round. “Have you ever drunk alcohol before?” he demanded. “Is this some drunken madness?”
Dawn’s smile was as wicked as his could be. “What worries you more? Being molested by me when drunk or sober?” She put the glass down and started to rise. “C’mon! Let’s get to the hot monkey sex!”
Back-stepping, Herbert almost tripped, staggering against William’s chair. “You’re bluffing,” he said, forcing himself to stand his ground.
“Oh yeah?” Stepping up right in front of him, Dawn caught him by the front of his shirt. She raised her eyebrows, cocking her head. “You wanna see me bluff taking your clothes off?”
He stared down at her and - by the fire - von Krolock could see how uncertain his son was. As far as he knew, Herbert had taken but one female lover and it had been a disastrously uncomfortable affair and now, the younger Miss Summers was proving her mettle to her sister, her friends and, above all, to Herbert.
Moving from the mantle, he approached them, could see the hopeful desperation in Herbert’s eyes over Dawn’s shoulders. Beyond both of them, young William was doubled over and biting on his knuckles to stifle his laughter.
“Perhaps I should excuse you both to more private quarters,” he murmured, terribly amused by the sudden flare of outraged panic on Herbert’s face.
“Father!”
Coming to a halt behind Dawn, von Krolock unfolded his hands and laid them on the girl’s slender shoulders, drawing her back a step. Unresisting, she was all but pressed back against his chest, and he could feel the heady throb of her blood through her flesh, thrumming with delighted excitement.
“I think you have proved your point, liebling,” he murmured, lowering his head so no other could hear what he was saying to her. “Now stop scaring poor Herbert, else I fear William may do himself a permanent injury.”
Tilting her head to look up at him, she gave him a thoroughly angelic smile that belied the wickedness he had just seen. His hands tightened on her shoulders briefly, the rush of desire more potent than any he had felt for decades, and he knew that he would have her, if it killed them both.
If she felt it, Dawn made no indication of it.
“Still think he’ll eat me?” she asked, giving her sister an impish smile.
The Slayer looked both amused and bemused, staring at Herbert as if she had never seen such a thing in her life. “Uh... no... not so much.”
“So...” From the other side of the table, between giggles, the witch inquired, “Not so much a fan of the ladies, huh?”
Trying to reclaim a little of his dignity, Herbert resumed his seat, folding his hands on the table and lifting his chin imperiously. “I prefer the company of equals,” he said, in as serious a tone as he could manage.
“And you hang out with Spike?” the Slayer sounded genuinely incredulous.
The look Herbert directed at William was at once threat, promise and adoration. “I do,” he said, the fondness in his words unmistakeable. “I challenge you to say that we are not equally handsome and charming.”
“Insulting my hair colour aside...?” The Slayer looked between the two younger vampires, then focussed her attention pointedly at Herbert. “Yeah, I guess you’ve both got the cheekbones...”
“Cheekbones? Is that all?”
Unnoticed by the group at the table, save perhaps Vittorio, Dawn lifted her hand to squeeze the fingers that still rested on her shoulders. “Taken care of,” she murmured, tilting her head against von Krolock’s jaw.
The small smile that touched his lips was palpable against her brow. “And it was admirably done,” he replied for her ears only.
With a last squeeze to his hand, she drew away from him. Sitting back down beside Herbert, she gave arranged her napkin just as neatly as before, smoothing it across her lap. “So, yeah...” she said, looking up, across the table, at her sister. “I’m staying.”
“Hold on...” The Slayer waved her into silence, apparently caught up in the tale Herbert was weaving of his first encounter with Dawn.
As von Krolock took his own seat, his hands resting on the arms, he glanced towards Dawn from beneath his lashes. She was smiling, shaking her head indulgently, but there was an undeniable edge of triumph in her posture.
She would be staying, of that he had no doubt, and, much to his surprise and admiration, she had ensured her sister would agree to it.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“You’ll let us know if anything happens, right?”
“Well, duh!” Dawn hugged Buffy warmly and stepped back. In the front yard of the manor, the sun had just risen and the trio were preparing to leave to journey as far as they could before dusk. “And you’ll call me if you need any help with weird demon codexes?”
“Well, Will’ll take care of that,” Buffy glanced over at the red-haired witch who had already acquired a stack of books and was carefully arranging them in the trunk of the car. They had been borrowed on the solemn oath that if anything happened to them at all, she would pay the small fortune back herself. “I think she wants to make Giles faint with envy that she got to touch ‘em.”
“They’re first editions! Hand-written!” Willow’s head popped around the edge of the trunk. “No one has seen them in two hundred years!”
“Except, y’know, the Graf,” Dawn gave her an amused look.
Willow rolled her eyes, shutting the trunk carefully. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she protested, approaching Dawn and gesturing for a hug. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
Briefly embracing Willow, Dawn nodded. “I’ve been okay for a month already,” she reminded them. “I’ll be fine. And hey! You’re the one who said you wanted to move into the library!”
Blushing, Willow looked briefly sheepish. “But it’s so big,” she mumbled.
From the doorway of the manor, there was a snort of mirth.
“Screw you, Herbert!” Dawn threw over her shoulder.
“You wish, darling!” his voice floated back.
Shaking her head and laughing, Buffy squinted at the doorway. “What is it about us that brings out the crazy in the vampires?” she asked.
“Good looks and the fact we can kick their asses without breaking a sweat?” Dawn suggested with a grin. Buffy’s expression sobered and Dawn looked down as Buffy took her hand. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“You better be,” Buffy said gruffly, though there was a tremor to her voice. “I don’t wanna have to come all the way out here and kick their asses.”
Dawn nodded at once. “They’d be pretty mad if you had to do that,” she agreed, her expression deadly earnest. “I don’t think Herbert would like to see you rumpling his new suits.”
With a roll of her eyes, Buffy opened the car door. “I’ll rumple ‘em good if he does anything to you.”
“Don’t worry!” Dawn laughed. “If he tries, I’ll chase him with girly cooties.”
“The poor boy,” Vittorio murmured, leaning against the hood of the car. “I dread to think how he will manage with you present indefinitely.”
Grinning evilly in the direction of the door, Dawn’s eyes danced. “Oh, he’ll learn pretty quick, I think,” she said. Opening her arms, she hugged Vittorio fondly. “You look after Buffy. You know how much trouble she can be.”
“Hey!” her sister called, half-way into the car, shoving a bag under the back seat.
“Naturalmente.” Vittorio kissed Dawn’s brow softly, then gazed at her seriously, her chin cupped lightly in his palm. “I expect you do not need further warnings, nor lectures, sorella piccola.” His brows drew together pensively, his voice lowered that Buffy wouldn’t overhear. “But you must proceed with care. For yourself and for others. There are deep emotions in this house.”
Dawn stared at him for a moment, then looked him up and down. “How long have you know him, then?”
One side of Vittorio’s mouth curved upwards. “Long enough, sorella,” he replied, placing another soft kiss to her forehead, then drawing back. “Longer than any of us would admit.”
“Deep emotions...” Dawn glanced over her shoulder thoughtfully. “Yeah. Figures.”
Scooting out of the car, Buffy dusted her hands down. “I think that’s everything,” she said, propping her hands on her hips and looking around. “You got everything, Will?” The witch nodded. “Vittorio?”
“I think we are prepared.”
With a last hug for her sister and the whisper of threat and promise for the vampires waiting inside, Buffy bundled her lover and friend into the car, rolling down the window to reach out one arm and hug Dawn a last time.
“If you don’t call me regularly, I’ll come here and kill you myself,” she whispered against Dawn’s ear.
“Like you called every week when you were at school!” Dawn laughed, returning the tight hug.
“I didn’t go to school with vampires,” Buffy reminded her, sitting back.
“Oh yeah?”
With a roll of her eyes, the Slayer laughed. “Okay, maybe a few. Now, you be good, okay? And don’t kill anyone, unless you have to.”
“You too.”
Stepping back, Dawn watched and waved as the car roared down the drive, tossing up gravel. Only when the gates swung closed did she turn around and walk back towards the door.
“Looks like you’re stuck with us, pet,” Spike was leaning against one of the columns that lined the hall, a pleased grin on his face.
“I concur,” Herbert added, stepping out of the shadows on the opposite side. “And I believe I owe you a mortal humiliation for the events of last night.”
Closing the door behind her, blocking out the daylight, Dawn smirked. “You can try, Herbert,” she said with mock-sweetness.
“And I am sure he will,” the third voice spoke from the middle of the hall. At once, Dawn moved past the two younger vampires to approach von Krolock. “So, you do not regret your decision?”
Offering him her hand, she smiled as he claimed it and kissed her fingertips. “Do you?” she asked, a hint of mischief in her blue eyes.
“We shall see,” he murmured, before vanishing in a swirl of black silk.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Looking up from the text he was halfway through translating, Giles rose from his seat, startled, at the sight of Willow laden down with a vast box of books. “Willow? Oh, thank goodness. When we didn’t hear...”
“Hey! You won’t believe what I found!” she exclaimed excitedly, hastily pushing past him to put the box on her desk. “A first edition of the Shendron codex!”
“I-I... what?”
“Shendron codex!” Willow repeated, lifting the book out of the box and placing it down carefully. “And he let me borrow his second copy of that...” She gestured urgently. “Whatsit... the documents from the middle of the Middle ages...”
“Willow, what about Dawn?”
Blinking at her employer, Willow forced herself down from the high of the ancient books that were lying in her hands. “Uh... Dawnie?” She frowned. “Oh, yeah! She’s staying there for a while.”
“I beg your...”
“Oh and Buffy’s gone to Rome with Vittorio...”
“Wait a moment, what did you say about Dawn remaining there?”
Her brow wrinkled, Willow stared at him. “Um... the vampire hadn’t eaten her and she’s staying there so she can learn stuff from him...?” she offered. “Don’t worry! I don’t think Spike would let them eat her.”
“Willow, Spike is dead...”
“Nuh-uh...”
“Spike isn’t dead?”
“Didn’t look like it,” Arranging the books on her desk, she studied the covers. “I think he has a thing with the Graf’s son.” She carefully opened one of the texts. “Does this look like Sumerian to you?”
Looking both mortally pained and perplexed, Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Perhaps I am overtired, but correct me if I am mistaken; you have left Dawn in the care of the most powerful vampire on this side of the Atlantic with a vampire who died when the Hellmouth was destroyed?”
“Yup,” Willow flipped a page carefully. “So... Sumerian?”
“Willow!”
Looking up, surprised, Willow cocked her head. “Huh?”
“The Graf von Krolock isn’t any normal vampire,” Giles’s voice had the first hints of worry and anger. “How could you just leave Dawn there?”
Shrugging, Willow sat down at her desk. “We needed someone to be our liaison with him,” she replied. “Did I even start to tell you about his library? He has every book ever written ever.”
“Liaison?” Giles echoed faintly.
“Yeah,” Willow beamed up at him. “He’s gonna help us if he can.”
“The Graf von Krolock?”
“Big guy, magical, super-powerful? Yep.”
Sitting down heavily on the edge of the desk, Giles stared at her. “I think,” he said seriously. “I need a strong drink.”