fandomtownies | After Sunset: The Graveyard (NFB)

Darla finds her there. "Darling girl. What is here that intrigues you?"

Drusilla turns and smiles at Darla. "Can't you see the stars from here?" she asks.

"I can see the stars from most anywhere on this island. Why particularly here?" Darla was feeling very relaxed and lazy after her afternoon gift (http://www.livejournal.com/users/crawley_demon/6418.html) from Mr. Crowley, and she stroked Dru's hair as they walked.

"Because they're quietest here," whispered Drusilla, lacing her fingers through Darla's. "Can you hear our guest?"

After the sun had set, Belthazor shimmered to the graveyard, appearing near an isolated crypt in a very dark corner. He leaned back against the mausoleum and waited. He could sense the two he was there to meet nearby, but they would probably see him before he saw them.

"Hello, Bel. How was your trip?"

"It was nice to get away from this place for awhile," Bel said with a shrug. "A chance to relax before getting down to business here and dealing with...what happened."

Drusilla's eyes narrowed. "You were fighting him. Trying to stop it. None of the rest tried."

Belthazor nodded, scowling. "Yeah. I passed on your warning that something was going down, but I don't know what they were doing. And I ended up getting my ass kicked by Crowley. He was guarding the ritual."

Darla froze. "Mr. Crowley was guarding it?"

"His angel had some sort of spell up to protect the place," Belthazor said, "but Crowley was outside to protect it as well. He said it was because Angelus had no interest for him, but Angel and his soul were more fun for him to torment."

Darla turned away from the two of them, pacing furiously. He'd said as much to her, about Angel being more his cause than Angelus, but he'd never pointed out that he'd *contrived* the situation by which Angel's soul was returned. With a cry of fury, she wrenched a bar from a wrought-iron grill and slammed it into a stone urn, shattering it.

"He'll probably try to stop us from restoring Angelus," Belthazor said. "On the other hand, he's offered to guide me, and he knows that I want Angelus back and Angel gone. We need to keep an eye on him. Fortunately, while his own angel is weak he's going to be distracted."

Darla took a deep (and useless) breath, trying to regain her senses by habits of humanity. "Dru warned me that there's danger in moving too fast. Although she won't say why," she said, with an annoyed glance at Dru, standing off to the side and not speaking. "Mr. Crowley wants my help in tormenting Angel. I am more than delighted to do so. Then he'll likely grow bored and his attention will drift elsewhere, and we can do as we like."

Drusilla had a smug look on her face.

"Tear off his wings and tarnish his halo." She nodded. "Though there are things that must be done before it's time."

"What things, lovey? Or must we wait to hear, as well as wait to act?"

Bel looked Drusilla over. "Such as?"

"My boy needs a doctor. I shall have to find him one." Drusilla glances between Belthazor and Darla. "Do either of you know how to give my Angel back his pitchfork? Or shall we have to find one?"

"I thought it was less giving Angel a pitchfork than taking away his halo. And why does Angel need a doctor?"

"Angel doesn't need a doctor," says Drusilla. "My darling Spike does. And then we can give him a lollipop when he's done."

"I know what he told me about that whole 'moment of true happiness' crap," Belthazor said, pulling his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lighting one up. "Where I'm from there are demons, Soul Hunters, who can rip out a soul. And I've heard of something called the Dragon Blade that is supposed to suck souls out as well."

"But what's to stop our little group of white hats from putting it back in when we're done? As amusing as the image is, yanking the soul out only to have them return it ony to have us yank it out is fundimentally useless."

"Then we put it in a box," said Drusilla. "Chain it up and throw it in the ocean. Bury it in his grave. Hide it from heaven and hell in their wrath." She sighed. "Though I haven't the faintest idea how it could be done."

Belthazor smiled coldly. "And we find out what they need to do the ritual -- like the Orb of Thesulah -- and destroy them. And we kill any witch with the knowledge or power to perform the magic. Any witch that we don't control, that is."

Darla regarded Dru, surprised. Usually, Dru made her vague pronoucements and left others to untangle the word clues. "Lock it in a box? Oh, yes, that's brilliant, my love!" Mindful of her healing burns, Darla embraces Dru ecstatically. "I don't see how we couldn't lock his soul away. The right box and the right lock... there must be a way."

She turned to Bel with a smile. "And so we hold the soul, and they lose their chance to do... anything at all. I do love the way you think."

"Smash and crash and make them burn to flinders." She glanced in the direction of the school. "Do you control any of the witches yet?"

"Phoebe's mine," Belthazor said, his tone making it clear he would have no argument. "Her older sister is in question, but she's been seeing Lindsey McDonald, and he might have some sway over her. Tara's the one who did the spell this time around. I think she needs to pay for that." He took a drag off his cigarette and exhaled slowly. "They're the only ones I know of around here with the power to do the spell."

"She's full of shining, gleaming light," said Drusilla. "There's a candle begging to be blown out. They'll all be plucked from the bush one by one and made into jam."

"Keep your pet witch," said Drusilla, smirking at him. "Shall you teach her to be wicked? She'd be much more fun that way."

Darla's head snapped up in surprise. "Lindsey McDonald? He's here?" She began to laugh, delight ringing among the tombstones. "Oh, I might be able to influence him a bit."

Belthazor grinned at Drusilla. "That's the plan. She's good, yeah, but she's got a lot of potential for otherwise."

He looked at Darla. "You know Lindsey? He was my roommate before I moved out. Kinda whiny, always bitching about me raiding his fridge."

"I knew him in a different timeline. I think it took all of three seconds for him to fall into my hand, and he was a grown man then. A teenager? He'll be on his knees before I finish smiling at him."

"And what does your pet witch like best to cast?" asked Drusilla. "Take a thick, black pencil and color shadows all over everything."

"Maybe I'll have to introduce you then," Belthazor said to Darla. "The poor boy will be putty in your hands.

"Phoebe has visions of the future," he went on, turning to Drusilla. "You two might have a lot to talk about some day."

"A seer?" Drusilla sighs. "I shan't pluck her eyes, since she's yours. Perhaps I'll show her a thing or two some day. I don't think the stars sing the same songs to her that I hear."

"She's not ready for you yet," Belthazor said. "But when she is, I'm sure you'll make sweet music together."

Drusilla's lips curved into a smile. "Her heart's too pure. I'm sure you'll take care of that nice and neatly."

Belthazor chuckled softly. "And I'll have a fun time doing it," he said, the ease in which he spoke the words contradicting the stirrings of guilt in his heart. He forced it aside.

Pulled out to the left here.

"Shh," said Drusilla, reaching out a hand to stroke Belthazor's cheek. "She'll be happier this way. No more worries. No more conflict. And you can share things with her that you never could before."

His face flushed red when he realized Dru had picked up on his feelings. "I guess I'm just afraid she'll be different," he admitted. He took a breath and forced a grin. "But you're right. It'll be better that way. And she can help us bring Angelus back."

Darla bit her lip to avoid voicing her opinion. She remembered Angelus' letter to her, scarecely a month before. He was right, some of his friends did go on about their young love. Instead, she left Dru to soothe, and thought about what Dru has said earlier. "You want a doctor for Spike, love? Why? He's not sick, is he?"

"He didn't seem sick last time I saw him," Belthazor said as Drusilla became distracted by something shiny ~~while her mun went to bed~~. "I stopped in the pub briefly last night. Didn't talk to him, but he seemed his usual self to me."

After Sunset: The Graveyard (NFB)

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