Author's Chapter Notes:
Some dialogue taken from The Prodigal, AtS season 1 episode 15.
Chapter 40

**

Previously:

He would prove to his group that he didn’t need them – they needed him. And he would prove to Buffy and the rest that he was the one they should be calling Champion. He would make the Powers take him back. He had a destiny to fulfil and a Shanshu to collect. He’d earned it and nobody better get in his way.

**

He sat alone in his darkened room. His anger building as he went over each comment, each action of all those that had betrayed him over the last couple of days. The list was growing. Words of an old Christmas song drifted through his mind, morphing and changing as his ire heightened. ‘He's making a list and checking it twice, he's gonna find out who’s naughty or nice, An-gel-us is coming to town.’

“They’ve all been naughty,” Angel snarled.

‘What do we do to naughty children, daddy?’ Drusilla’s voice echoed through his mind.

“Naughty children get punished,” Angel replied to the imaginary Drusilla.

The image of a blond in a catholic school uniform flashed in his mind and Darla’s words sounded strongly in his head.

‘Would you punish them the same way you have punished others in the past?’

“Of course. I need to prove who has the power here,” he answered his sire’s question.

‘You think?’ she asked, her form beginning to take shape in his fractured mind.

“What?” he asked, confused at her question.

‘Your victory over them would take but moments.’

“Yes?” Angel asked, his eagerness to learn from his beloved sire paramount.

‘Their defeat of you will last life times.’

“What are you talking about? They won’t be able to defeat me if they’re dead,” Angelus snarled.

‘Nor can they ever approve of you...in this world or any other. What we once were shapes all that we have become. The same love will infect our hearts, even if they no longer beat. Simple death won’t change that.’

“Love? Is this the work of love?” Angelus asked, distraught.

‘Darling boy. So young. Still so very young.’

Her image faded as she shook her head.

“Darla?”

~~~~~~~

General Gregor, commander in chief of the Knights of Byzantium, stood on the hill overlooking the town of Sunnydale. Behind him a legion of knights waited. It was time to find the beast and the key. It was time to end this once and for all.

Turning to his lieutenants, he barked out his orders. They were setting up camp in the area the scouts had found. Once the camp was organised, he would send the scouts out again.

~~~~~~~

Ben looked down at red silk dress and matching high heals he wore and sighed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. It was always the same. Every time he came back, he would almost collapse with a sudden tottering of the ridiculously high and fragile heels and the tight restriction of the latest fashion disaster his body invader had dressed him in. He wondered briefly if there was any way to convince her that comfort could be a viable option.

Opening his closet, he was pleased that at least this time he’d been at home during the change. As he dressed, he checked the time. If he hurried, he could make it to work on time. Much as he hated working nights, at least he was working. He was sometimes amazed that he still had a job with all the time Glory was taking from him.

As he walked to his car, Ben thought about the latest news from the minions. The knights were in Sunnydale. He couldn’t think of a time when the arrival of the knights had meant anything but badness.

He was so focused on the idea of the knights being in town, that he was totally unprepared for the attack when it came.

The attack was fast, vicious, and fatal. After his neck was snapped, his head was ripped from his body. The killer drowned the body in alcohol, picked up the head and started walking away, a lighter was nonchalantly thrown over the shoulder of the assassin, landing unerringly on the alcohol drenched body and setting it ablaze.

Screaming minions ran to the body, lamenting the loss of their God. Not one of them paid attention to the retreating figure that was casually swinging the half morphed head of Ben/Glory by the hair.

Insane laughter filled the air.

~~~~~~~

Tara was caught between feelings of fear and exhilaration. Being outside at night in Sunnydale was bad enough, but being outside at night and in a graveyard in Sunnydale would scare pretty much anyone. The fact that both Buffy and Spike were with her didn’t stop her natural fear. However, the idea that they would be meeting the woman that her mother had written about made the night time trip easier to deal with. Her excitement seemed to balance out her fear.

Buffy kept a tight reign on her emotions. Even tighter than usual. With Mr. Observant as her boyfriend she didn’t really have another choice. Not if she wanted to get through this meeting at least without the talk-fest that he would insist upon the minute he worked out that she was worried. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it. The facts were the facts. Graham had left. Graham was pissed. Graham had his own team of demon hunters. Graham needed to blame someone and it looked like her and her boyfriend were number one on his shit list.

Spike let out his senses. His girl was deep in concentration, probably worrying her pretty little head about the possible threat from the soldier, but she was trying so hard to hide her concerns from him that he didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d never be an actress. ‘Silly bint’s got no idea that she makes William look bloody stoic,’ Spike mused indulgently. Still, if she was going to be distracted, he needed to be more vigilant. They had the white witch with them and she needed to be protected.

When they reached the crypt they had been looking for, the Slayer took over. “Spike, watch our backs.”

Tara and Buffy entered the pyramid shaped crypt.

“I had forgotten how young you would be.” The ageless woman smiled benignly at the Slayer and the Wicca as she came through a set of gauze curtains that closed off one section of the tomb.

Tara knelt before her. The presence of the Goddess was strong in the woman’s aura.

“Kneel not, Daughter of Light. The Powers that Be have changed events so that you may take your rightful place if you so desire. The future has already been changed this night. The Chosen One will not die, her Champion is safe because of it, the Teacher has been reformed, the Red Witch will learn balance, and the Daughter of Light will live. All of this has changed to your benefit, but be warned, for as there are now good changes, there are also bad. The cursed one walks in darkness. You all have choices to make. When you are ready to know more, come back to me, but first talk to the others.”

As she turned to walk away from them, she made one last remark.

“Glorificus is dead.”





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