Dark Promise

The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights. If you don't agree or disapprove, please go read something else.

This story is part of an Altaverse based on Bite Me and the Fonder Heart. It can be found, along with other such stories, at The Realms of the Xenaverse, under Blood and Roses. Xena is Ares' Daughter and Gabrielle is Bacchus' Daughter

Characters from Buffy: Vampire Slayer have also been borrowed for the purposes of this story. All of this is written with the utmost affection and the no desire for renumeration (except for possible emails). The same above disclaimer is in effect. There are certain changes that have been made to accomadate this particular Xenaverse. Buffy's Vampires are really part of the Kin, renamed for purposes of this story

Remember, this is all meant in fun!

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

He flicked a piece of bone with his fingernail and watched as it skittered noisily across the flat surface of the stone table. He sighed, and looked at the clock, an old thing that cranked out the minutes with astonishing accuracy, given it's age. It was almost as old as he was.

He broke off another finger bit and put it on the table, then positioned it like a paper football and flicked it. The piece went sailing up, arcing into the air, and landed with a bonish tinkle on the floor. His eyes narrowed and he slouched. There were days he hated being an early riser.

It was an old habit, established from before he was born from a kiss of fire that tore his previous life away. He would rise before the morning sun. Now he rose before the drop of night, and hid in the shadows of the twilight. Of course, when he and Buffy were getting along, that was useful for him. He could almost bear the daylight then, for just a few extra moments, getting up early, staying up late. It was all worth it for her. When he could feel it.

Now it was just tedious and he wasn't really thinking about that. He was thinking of what he would do when the sun was fully down, the fun he would have with Druscilla. Perhaps they'd cruise a park tonight, or a museum. Get a few kills in. He could already taste the copper tang. The only problem was that the hunt was getting boring. Humans, it seemed, knew how to scream, but they didn't really run anymore. There was no chase.

No fun.

No fun at all.

He'd had more fun chasing rats when he supposedly had a soul. They at least required the use of his brain. Like Buffy. .and her friends. They were predictable, but he could . .think around them, plot.

He liked plotting. He liked thinking intricate little steps and traps to get her attention, to goad her on. He liked the challenge she presented; that fine line between memory, desire and his current needs.

Another piece of bone went rattling across the table. The tall, dark and broody vampire felt her before he saw her. He didn't look around. "Hello Druscilla."

She wrapped her sinuous arms around his shoulders, hanging on him, not quite kissing, but reveling in the contact. She liked touching him, "Hello my Angel. You're up early this evening." She licked his cheek seductively, then pressed her own against him.

He sniffed unhappily, "Couldn't sleep. I felt. . ." He waved what was left of the hand distractedly, "antsy." He turned to her and spoke urgently, "Let's go hunting. I need a kill."

She let go his neck, and sat down besides him looking suddenly earnest, "You feel it too?"

He blinked at her, broke another finger from the bony hand he'd been playing with, "Feel what?"

The demented mystic gasped, her fingers pressing to her belly, her eyes closing. "Ooh," she said orgasmically, "It makes my tummy hurt so deliciously." Her dark locks spread upon her shoulder enticingly. Her expression promised bliss.

Delicious? That was a new word. Usually her hurts made her cramp, unhappily. Now she sounded like she was about to make a new kin. It made him curious. "What is it? What do you see" Angel dropped the hand, wondering if a new game were upon him. A hunt? Was Druscilla thinking of hunt?

Spike, his blonde holdover punk rival, rolled in, gave Druscilla a peck on the cheek. If Angel had the doldrums bad, Spike had it worse. He asked the question again, "Yes, what is it, love? Tell us."

Her eyes squinched tight and then she opened them up and smiled brightly, "Someone has come, an ancient. Her path was once made of blood, and fire. She nearly ruled the world," her expression saddened, "but she's lost her way." Druscilla pouted, then brightened again, as if she'd thought of the most wonderful plan, "We must help her find it again."

"How?" Angel asked. He liked the notion of a new dark. Someone to play with. Ancient. How ancient? Dangerous. OH . .yes. .joy. Lost her way. Like he did? Oh, no more alone. No more hidden scorn, having to prove and reprove himself.

Her eyes brightened. She laughed gleefully and patted Angel's chest, hard, "Ooh, you will like this, Angel," She oozed with evil humor, "You want to get back at Buffy for all the pain she's caused you?"

Angel smiled dispite himself, feeling his blood begin to pulse under Druscilla's rough caresses. "Yes," He hissed.

The lean dark woman smiled, "Then we must claim a relative of ours and make her our own special friend and she will bring the dark ancient back to us. And when the one falls, The Bard will follow."

Angel blinked. "The Bard?! The Ancient Bard? The Sunwalker? Here?" Angel shook his head in fearful wonder. He'd heard of her, but hadn't believed in her existance. A kin who walked the sunlight. It made him shiver, partly with envy, partly with dread.

Druscilla wavered between honor, lust and horror at envisioning the Bard. Sunwalker. "She'd be a great prize for us and the Destroyer of Nations with her." She shivered and cramped happily, "It's a dark path, dangerous, but. . .if it worked, we'd have the Two ancients on our side, our clan would be unbeatable."

Spike looked thoughtful. His voice held an edge, but that was nothing new. "A relative? Now who could that possibly be?"

Druscilla leaned forward and whispered in Angels' ear, but Spike heard it perfectly clear, "The sweet Willow."