The Devil You Know

Rating: PG-13, I believe. Nothing's graphic.

Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing.

Parings: Dawn/Angelus.

Warnings: PLEASE NOTE: Nothing in this fic is graphic. But it does allusions to rape, torture, and an underage Dawn. Also alludes to incest, somewhat vaguely. Oh, there's also a ittsy bittsy reference to Spangel slash. And there's a fair bit of naughty language. IT HAS ANGELUS. Shouldn't that be enough of a warning? However, I don't think it's graphic enough to be an "R." It is, after all, much more tame than what we got from Angelus on "Buffy."

Summary: A/U: Set during AtS, Season 4/Buffy Season 7. "Angel" comes to get Dawn to protect her from "The Big Bad." Because he should have gotten free from the cage.

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I wonder if it's possible to be pathologically stupid.

Once can be pathologically evil, of course, or have a pathologically dislike of someone. I suppose most people would claim that I have a pathological dislike of everyone, and I am, of course, pathologically evil. But I've never heard anyone described as pathologically stupid. Perhaps I should have asked the Watcher, before I snapped his neck. But he's dead now, as are all of the Soul's worthless friends. Well, maybe it's a bit harsh to call them "useless." Most of them were, after all, quite tasty. Especially the boy. Though, the green one left quite a nasty little after taste in my mouth. Nothing that a few samples between LA and Sunnydale didn't sooth.

Ah, Sunnydale. Neither I nor the Soul have missed it very much. For that Pansy, it brings memories of forbidden "love," and other assorted bullshit associated with the Slayer. Most of which, I honestly don't understand. I mean, what's under the chick's skirt is enticing, but it's not that good. Now Darla, on the other hand, I could see mourning that fine piece of work. But no, the Soul's too conflicted about the vast amount of evil Darla and I caused in our day. Bah.

I, of course, have not been particularly fond of Sunnydale since that unfortunate sword incident. But I'd always knew that, if I ever regained control of this body, I'd come back. And when I came back, I swore I'd make the blond bitch pay.

It was so very nice of those monks to help me out. It was even nicer of the Soul's moronic friends to decide I needed to be free. But really, it was just incredibly fucking spectacular of the "Scoobies," to so easily hand the child over. In fact, all the credit for the idea has to go to Slutty the Vampire Layer herself. Just last week, she'd called the Soul and asked if it would be possible for Dawn to come spend some time in LA, where it might be "safer." Guess she hadn't heard about our little beast problem.

Of course, the Soul couldn't allow that. Things were far more dangerous for Dawn in LA. And oh, Angel had cared so much for little Dawnie who reminded him of dear sweet Kathy. Slutty had hung up the phone, sounding disappointed, something I plan to tell Dawn multiple times for however long I allow her to live. But who could blame the Slayer, really? My grandchilde apparently alternates between insanity and killing binges, both of which make me crave the taste of his sweet flesh again. And the bratty little charges Slutty's been looking after? That'd be enough to drive anyone insane. Not to mention, of course, the condescending Watcher and Crazy Witch. All of which Slutty had the immense courtesy to cry about over the phone last week.

That was ever so kind of her. Anyway, with all the shit Slutty's been dealing with, I'd almost feel sorry for her. Almost. That is, when I'm not concentrating on how delightful it was to hear her cry. Oh, and it was delightful. Why wouldn't it be? It was pain born out of pure emotional pain and exhaust – my favorite kind of torture.

I'd waited, of course, until crazy Spike was out on the prowl, the Watcher was gone, and the Witch was asleep. Then I'd sprung. The stupid bitch hadn't even noticed the lack of a soul. She's a real pretty thing, but not too smart, I guess. But then, her brain wasn't exactly what gave Angel the Big Happy, now was it?

Poor Dawn had protested, but the Slayer had practically forced her to come with me. Oh, I have a feeling she's going to regret that. Perhaps sometime next week, when she realizes the Beast creature is still roaming around, and she has to go to LA to take care of it. That's when she'll realize that I'm not there, and neither is her dear sweet little Dawnie. Right about then, when the realization sets in that she sent her baby sister away – willingly – with a sadistic killer, will be when the regret sets in. Along with a lot of other pesky, agonizing thoughts, of course.

I will think of the Slayer's horrified reaction to finding out the truth each and every time I hurt the little brat. For that reason alone, the little bundle of virginal blood beside me is going to be the best meal and fuck I ever had. More sadistic than Drusilla, more fun than little Kathy, and more satisfying than Cordelia.

Biting back a laugh, I recall Xander's parting words, born more out of continual dislike of the Soul than actual distrust. "If you lay one finger on her, Deadboy. . . " Such an idle, empty threat from someone so pathetically weak.

Still, maybe I'll see how long I can keep my promise to him, just for the hell of it. After all, I have plenty of other tools at my disposal. There's no need to use any of my fingers. At least, not for a week or two.

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The End.

If anyone liked this chapter, I'm thinking of extending the story, and making it a series (maybe even one where Dawn lives.) Feedback will help me decide. :)