Disclaimer: Joss owns these characters, I’m just playing.

Author’s note: Thanks to BTL for the beta.

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Anyanka, vengeance demon, scourge of men wiped her bloody hands onto the shirt of a nearby victim. The solarium was filled with the corpses of a dozen members of Marseille’s finest, aristocratic citizens. Though to call them that now. . . The puddles of blood that they laid in didn’t make them look very genteel.

The room was rather nice, and without the blood and gore the solarium probably was a beautiful place to spend time. The view towards the coastline was picturesque, and if she had time or the inclination, maybe Anya would have stayed for a bit to enjoy the scenery. As it was, she was a vengeance demon with people to see, places to be, and wishes to grant. She could already hear the calls for vengeance begging her to take action. Action she had devoted almost a thousand years to.

With firm, resolute steps, Anyanka made her way out of the solarium towards the main part of the house, passing the corpses as she walked. Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of a door she hadn’t been aware of.

And that was just annoying. Doors that were hidden. It made you feel not at all safe. Just anyone could walk in and interrupt a potentially potent wish.

This time though, the door opened too late, the wish had already been granted, and a large man with brown hair and a protruding brow exited from what appeared to be a cellar entrance, or possibly a passage way to the servants’ quarters.

“How did you survive the carnage?” Anyanka asked. “The wish was pretty clear, all the men in the building were supposed to be killed. I was really clear.” Her voice radiated annoyance.

“I’m not quite a man, lass,” the man said with an Irish accent.

Anya leaned forward and sniffed the air around him.

“Oh, vampire. Alright then, nothing wrong with my wish.”

“None that I can see. Quite the ingenious wish,” he commented with an admiring look around the room.

“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say,” Anya beamed proudly. “Now, are you just some vampire or do you have a name to go along with those large upper arms of yours?” Her eyes swept over this vampire, his brown hair falling over his eyes haphazardly.

“Angelus,” he replied, stepping closer to the vengeance demon.

“Hmmm,” Anya hummed appreciatively.

“Heard of me, lass?” he asked.

“I have,” Anya admitted. “I thought you and your sire were attached at the hip?”

Angelus took another step towards Anyanka and smiled. “Not tonight,” he purred.

With a half smile and a slight bite to her own lip, Anya turned around to face the panoramic view offered by the solarium. Yes, she had other things to do, D’Hoffryn had upped her quota once again. But, here was a very good looking and willing distraction just handed to her.

“Have you ever had the pleasure with a vengeance demon?” she asked coyly, keeping her back to the vampire.

“Can’t say that I have, certainly not with one as pretty as you, that’s for certain,” he countered.

Anya walked over to a fainting couch and pushed the corpse that was covering it to the floor. Turning to face him, she started to remove her blood spattered white gloves.

“Well?”

Angelus moved towards her with a glint in his eye.

Anya herself cast another glance in his direction, noting with interest that his trousers were tented in just the right spot. She held out a hand to stop his advance.

“Ground rules?” she started.

When he nodded she continued, sitting down on the couch, kicking the hand of the dead man on the floor. “My pendant stays on. The rest is fair game.”

Angelus’ hands ghosted over her bare shoulders, he certainly did have an appreciation for the recent styles in women’s dresses. Anyanka’s creamy white skin was bare to him, the pendant the only thing in his way, and he could work around that. His fingers traced the line of gold that circled her neck.

“The pendant stays on or you face my wrath, and trust me that’s not something you want to deal with,” she warned, sighing as she cocked her head to the side, his fingers continuing to trace over her skin.

Angelus leaned down, his lips seeking purchase on her white unblemished skin. “What would you do?”

“Grant a wish,” she answered dreamily. “It’s what I do. I’d grant a wish to someone you’ve hurt. It wouldn’t be hard.”

Anya let her hands drift of their own free will, encountering something very hard indeed along the way. She squeezed.

A hiss of delight issued from the vampire’s mouth, which was poised over her jugular. Turning her head, she met his eyes.

“Do we have an agreement?” she asked.

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fini