By Stakeaclaim

Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss’s and ME’s. Hope they don’t mind me playing with them. I’ll give them all back at the end.

Summary: Some memories are sweet others can be killers, as Spike is finding out. No need to tell Angel this, he already knows.

Chapter 1

Remember Me

Roused to consciousness by the screaming pain in his arms, soaked in the stench of his own blood and looking at the stumps where his hands should be had been...shocking. But, in the end, nothing that couldn’t be fixed by Filthdamned & Tart, as Spike affectionately liked to think of Eve and the rest of her merry crew.

No, it wasn’t that which sent him reeling with horror and spiralling into darkness.

Since his soul he’d had to admit that there was a lingering sense of regret at no longer being able to revel in havoc and mayhem. When you came right down to it, it had been bloody entertaining. Yeah, bloody in the literal sense of the word. He was no Angelus. He hadn’t been in it for the artistry of torturing and breaking people. All he’d wanted was a bit of fun.

Now he’d been forced to face the cost of that sort of fun. And discovered it was more than he could afford to pay.

Sure, the girl and her family were not his victims but, so what? Many others were.

Just because evil was a by-product rather than his intention, it didn’t necessarily make him less evil. Hell, at least Angelus had the grace to recognise his victims as people and had given them his full attention. You have to know a person before you can truly break them. It is indeed an art.

Spike’s brand of casual cruelty celebrated his exuberant joy in the act, rather than satisfaction in the reactions of those who suffered at his hands. He negated their very existence by treating them as so much flotsam and jetsam.

These thoughts were new and unnatural to him. They spun around his head as he tried to drop into a healing sleep. When he did sleep it was far from restful. Old memories were dredged up and for the first time his victims became people instead of merely food and playthings. The careless glee he had found in such violence sickened him and this horror was compounded because bloody violence still thrilled him. It was seductive. He needed it. Yeah, lets go out and kill something!

How does a good soul come to terms with that?

The nurses would find blood soaking through the sheets as he unconsciously tore at his bandages and clawed into his wounds. The fragile knitting of bones fractured as he tried to remove his own hands.

“You need to sleep, Spike.” Angel said and for once there was no edge in his voice.

“Sleep? They haunt me, you know? It’s not sleep. It’s a night out of hell...retribution. They tell me she was right, if I don’t have hands I can never touch anyone again.”

“Do you remember how it used to be, Angelus? Cutting off hands? Fountains of blood showering on to your face, so warm and sweet. So much fun. We deserve damnation. Hero? Redemption? Shanshu? Maybe you. Maybe you’ve managed to earn it. But me? Never. They tell me I deserve to suffer and they’re right, I do.” His voice was a tired whisper of its normal mocking, ironic tone.

“Yes. You do.”

Angel was determined not to feel pity. He and Spike were the same and Spike deserved no more pity than he gave himself. Then he sighed because pity wasn’t about what others deserved it was about what he was able to give. Looking at this man, with his hollowed out face, haunted eyes and a body with barely the strength to raise itself from the pillow, Angel found it within him to feel compassion even for this ‘thing’ he loathed.

“We’ll find a way to help you, Spike.”

Spike gave a lift of an eyebrow, some attempt at normality, “Help me? You going soft in your old age, Peaches?”

Sometimes Angel could almost admire the younger vampire’s bravado. But on the whole it just irritated the hell out of him.

***

“He’s not healing.” Angel told them during their morning meeting.

“He needs blood and he needs sleep, that’s all.” Wesley replied.

“He’s getting blood and then losing it all. He hurts himself in his sleep.” Fred chipped in.

“So it’s sleeping that’s the problem, that’s when he starts tearing shreds out of himself.” Gunn assessed.

“I hope you’re not suggesting we remove anyone’s sleep, Sweetcheeks.” Lorne shuddered dramatically.

“Oh man, no. I’m with you there...really am. I meant what happens when he sleeps. Why does he do it?”

“The girl thought Spike was the man who tortured her. She was so broken.”

Broken beyond hope of repair, Angel privately thought, but Andrew had effectively taken the matter out of his hands. Authorised by Buffy herself. And there was a track he wasn’t yet prepared to travel.

“Anyway, the accusation brought back old memories and cast them in a different light. He’d never really considered his victims before. He didn’t know them, had no attachment to them, so they didn’t count. From what he says, when he sleeps he’s seeing everything from their point of view. On top of the shock of having his hands cut off and being so weak physically, it’s too much for him.”

“So it’s not actually the sleep that’s the problem, is it?” Wesley asked.

Fred immediately caught on.

“No. No, it’s the memories.” She said slowly. “Which means that if we...”

“Removed the memories.” Wesley continued.

“Then he should sleep like a little old baby.” Fred finished triumphantly and shared a smile with Wesley.

“Remove his memories? Are you sure?” Angel frowned.

“Obviously this would be short term memory removal, you understand. Once he’s recovered physically he’ll be better able to fight mentally.”

“Uh...so what...you just select the memories you want to remove?” Angel asked.

“No. It’s really not a selective procedure and his memories of hunting and killing go so far back we would be removing most of his life anyway. No, I think it would be for the best if we wiped them completely.”

“You can do that?”

“I don’t see why not, there are any number of methods we could use.”

Angel considered the proposal. Part of him wanted to protest, ‘Why should he have a break? I’ve spent a hundred years living with this torment, when did anyone ever give me a damned break?’

Instead he just nodded.

“Ok. Do it. I’ll leave it up to you and Fred to decide the best way.”

“Uh...Angel?” Fred said hesitantly. Angel raised his brows.

“He’ll need to be cared for, you know, whilst he’s healing.”

“The place he’s in...”

“Is fine when he’s himself, all souled and memory having. But how does a vampire with no memory behave? He might try to do something in his confusion. He needs someone who is strong enough to handle him.”

“He’s so weak anyone could handle him.” Angel protested.

“Yes, that’s true but he’s going to recover his strength before he recovers his memories. I mean that is the point, isn’t it?”

Angle could see exactly where this was leading and was determined to cut off that train of thought pretty damn quick.

“He is not staying with me.”

***

Later that day another bed was installed in Angel’s apartment and Spike was wheeled in, under Fred and Wesley’s supervision. Angel sighed really, really loudly but they didn’t appear to hear. He sulked whilst Spike pouted.

“You should have consulted me, I do have a view on this you know and my view is I’m not bloody staying with him!”

“Yes, quite.” Agreed Wesley. “You should be allowed to do what you want.”

“Too right.” Spike replied, confusion written all over his face at having the ex-watcher on side.

“So please, feel free to walk away if our arrangements are not to your liking.”

Angel smirked as the blonde vampire struggled to support his weight on his elbows. And failed.

“You know, Percy? You’re a complete wanker.” Spike complained as he flopped gracelessly back down.

Angel and Wesley lifted him on to the bed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I really don’t want you here. It depresses me just thinking about it.” Angel told him.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Oh, go away, Spike.”

“Would if I could, Braintrust.”

“Will you two please cut it out? This is for your own good, Spike. And Angel if you could stop sulking, it is most unbecoming in a man...vampire of your years.”

“You realise he’ll probably murder me in my sleep?”

“Spike!” Wesley felt as though he was dealing with a couple of bickering brats.

Angel took the opportunity to lean over the blonde and whisper softly.

“Murder you in your sleep? Where’s the fun in that? No. I’d wait until you were wide awake and weak and helpless as a kitten and then I’d...”

“Watcher! Make him stop!”

“Angel! Will you please refrain from teasing him.”

“You’re gonna be alright, Spike.” Fred said in her soothing drawl. “We’re all gonna look after you. And you know Angel wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“You’re family. I know families, you may spit and claw like two cats a in sack but there’s always an undercurrent, there’s always love.”

“Hey! No love here!” Angel protested and then a shadow crossed his face as he realised what he’d said.

Huh. Out of the mouths of babes and idiots...certainly no love here.

Andrew had made it clear that Buffy thought he was untrustworthy, possibly even evil, Cordelia may have loved him but she was dead to the world, Darla was gone, Dru wanted her daddy, Penn was dust, Spike made fun of him...oh and tried to kill him and Connor hated him...oh and tried to kill him.

No, these thoughts were just too painful. He forced his mind blank.

Spike missed the brooding expression and just rolled his eyes at Angel’s indignant response.

“Doesn’t work quite that way with vampire families, luv. Does it, Granddad?”

Thoughts of Penn, Darla and Drusilla hung heavy in the air between them.

Wesley cleared his throat and tried to smooth the awkward moment.

“They were evil and Angel had no choice. You’re a good man, Spike.”

He found to his surprise that he actually believed his own words. This strange vampire had put Fred’s life before his own eternal damnation and that counted for just about everything in his book.

Contrary as ever, Spike wanted to protest, tell them he was bad to the core. Take cover in old, well-used posturing but what was the point? He couldn’t fool himself, he couldn’t fool them and to be truthful he wasn’t sure if even wanted to. He didn’t know what he was anymore. He fought the good fight that used to be Angel’s before he sold out. He had a seer and helped the helpless. He’d saved the world and been called a hero. But he didn’t feel like one. A bad man trying to do good was the best he could say of himself.

He realised that he did need respite from the continuous circles of his thoughts. They’d carved grooves so deep it was impossible for him to think of anything else and like a scratched record he was always jumping back to the same point and replaying the same old track. Some good, solid sleep, then he’d be able to think clearly about all this crap.

“So. How does this mojo work then?”

Wesley had just started to discuss it with Angel and he turned to include him as well.

“As I was saying, there are a number of ways to do this. We decided against the more common ‘tabula rasa’ crystal method as it can be unpredictable...”

“Tell me about it. Bloody witches.” Spike snarked.

“Yes...well.” Wesley smoothed over Spike’s outburst, not knowing the source of it and not wanting to get side tracked.

“Anyway, we have chosen a word based spell. We set it up and a word will take the memories away, when we decide its finished then we dismantle the spell. The advantage of this is that if the memories start to seep back before you’re ready we won’t have to start the spell again. We just say the word and it will give you another period of trouble free rest.”

“So the memories return naturally? How long will he have before they return?” Angel asked.

“With a normal human ten days to a fortnight. A vampire? Considerably shorter I would guess, given your general immunities and accelerated rates of recovery.”

“OK. And what can we expect when the spell takes effect?”

“Well, the memory wipe will be complete. He’ll be equivalent to a newborn baby and will learn in much the same fashion. However, his ability to learn will be greatly enhanced as his muscles, motor skills and co- ordination are already fully developed. Then gradually his memories will return”

“A newborn baby! I don’t bloody think...”

“Spike. Do you want to be able to rest or not?” Angel asked.

“Oh frigging hell...just do whatever you have to.” Spike laid back and for the first time in 126 years felt curiously powerless, as though it was out of his hands, not his responsibility. It was unexpectedly comforting.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Joss’s and ME’s. Hope they don’t mind me playing with them. I’ll give them all back at the end.

Summary: Innocence, so fragile, so easily lost and yet, miraculously, some people manage to retain it. Some do not. And then there are others who have it, lose it then find it again and, oops! it slips away once more.

Chapter 2

Innocence

Lindsey was shaving when he felt warm arms curl around his waist.

“Hey there, Sweetheart. You’re back early.”

“Ah, but I knew what was waiting for me and couldn’t resist.”

He rinsed his face and turned towards her, reaching for a towel and patting himself dry.

“And look at you, all clean and edible.” She nipped playfully at his chin. “Just waiting for me to dirty you up.”

He gave his boyish grin and she was blown away all over again.

“Yeah? Is that a promise?”

“Oh baby, you know me. I don’t give anything for nothing.” she smirked as she let her hands move over his tattooed body.

“Well, how about I...” he leaned closer to whisper into her ear, letting the breath of his words tickle the tip of her ear.

She tried to suppress the shiver of lust that ran up her body and smiled at him wickedly.

“You have got yourself a deal, honey.”

Lindsey considered himself lucky. He needed an insider but to have one at her level was a godsend. That she was attractive and sexy was a bonus but made no difference in the end. He’d have seduced Attila the Hun if it helped his plan.

“How was work?”

He managed to sound genuinely concerned and interested in her day whilst fishing for information.

“New development. Your champion is currently out of the game.”

“Oh. Dead?”

“No. It was touch and go for a while. They’ve taken away his memories to give him time to heal.”

“Really?” His mind was working fast. “This could open up a whole new game. I need you to take a look, darling. Suss it out, see how everyone is reacting. Strain their loyalties.”

“What? Now?” she pouted prettily as she let her hands move lower.

“Hmmm. No, not right now.” he drawled.

“We have an agreement to fulfil and I’m thinking there’s a few points we need to go over first.”

His look was so lascivious it made her stomach flip over. His mouth covered hers as he guided her back towards the bed and as his hard, muscled body moved over her, nothing else mattered.

She know she was a fool, knew she was being played but these were the moments that made her dangerous choice worthwhile.

***

Spike was curled into his blankets, his hair tousled and his eyes blinking and sleep filled. Fred couldn’t help but ruffle that hair.

“Aw! He’s so cute.”

“He does have a certain innocent charm, in this state.” Wesley whispered back.

“Do you think he’s gonna suck his thumb?”

“We’ll have the pictures if he does.”

Fred looked at him in query.

“Blackmail is an ugly word, but as they say, payback’s a bitch.” He said with a small smile.

“Ah! I know what you mean, ‘Percy’” Fred giggled at Spike’s pet name for him. “And you so do not suit that name.”

“Well, I have to admit, it seems a step up from ‘Watcher’. It always gave me an uneasy feeling whenever he called me that!”

It made Wesley feel good to see her laugh so easily. He smiled tenderly and hers slowly changed from amusement to something so warm it to made him glow. Of course, it was just his imagination. She was still involved with that Knox creature. He turned away to hide the distress that passed over his open face.

She frowned as he turned away. Perhaps he really didn’t care for her that way anymore. Strange, the thought made her throat ache.

Wesley covered his surge of emotion. He didn’t want her to feel awkward when she was with him.

“Its rather peculiar having a silent Spike. Eerie almost.” He commented.

“Peaceful. Blissful. A miracle.” Muttered Angel as he came in holding bags of warmed blood.

“Hey, Spike. Food’s up.”

Blue eyes focused on him curiously. Nostrils twitched slightly as Angel pierced a bag and brought it towards his mouth. A drop hit his tongue and suddenly Spike was in vamp face, suckling the bag and making small contented sounds.

“That’s....uh...sort of cute and sort of...disturbing.”

“Indeed.” Wesley agreed, equally fascinated by the sight.

“You’re thinking another photo opportunity?”

“When did you get to know me so well?”

Angel looked at them in confusion as they began to laugh.

“Why don’t you two get back to work? I’ll be down as soon as I’ve got him back to sleep.”

“Of course. If you need anything...”

“I’ll give you a call.”

Angel slipped another pillow under Spike’s head and settled next to him, watching him as he fed. He found it quite soothing listening to the blood being ingested, the regular swallowing motion produced a curious pulse-like rhythm.

He hardly noticed as the other two left and certainly didn’t notice as Wesley looked back with a troubled look on his face, one hand rubbing absently at his neck.

“Is something wrong?” Fred asked.

“Not precisely. Just watching Angel settle him down to sleep, I had a most peculiar feeling.”

“Well, they do make sort of a weird picture...”

“No, that’s the thing. It didn’t feel weird, more like a sudden glimpse of familiarity.”

“Déjà vu?”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

“So, nothing to worry about.” Fred said and then caught the look on his face. “Is it?” she asked uncertainly.

Wesley gave her a reassuring look.

“Of course not.” he replied and smiled.

The smile left his face as soon as Fred had turned into her laboratory. The feeling had disturbed him. There was something on the very edge of his mind that he couldn’t quite touch.

He was almost glad he couldn’t.

***

Angel berated Spike as he wiped at blood dribbling down the contented vampire’s chin.

“You really are a pig, Spike. And look! How the hell did you manage to get it on my jacket?” he complained crossly.

Then chuckled as he found himself waiting for the normal derogatory comments.

“Hey, no comeback! I could almost get to like this new, improved you. Wonder if Wes would do me a favour and remove your voice once you get your memories back?”

Angel could relax now that Wes and Fred had left. He reached for another bag of blood and casually turned into vamp face.

Spike stopped feeding, his golden eyes eying him in amazement.

“Jees. You lay there with your wrinkled brow and teeth that a rotweiller would be proud of and look at me as though I’m the wacky one! You’re not going to freak out on me now, are you?”

He pushed the bag back towards Spike’s mouth, who once again nuzzled into it. Meanwhile, Angel managed to one-handedly pierce the other bag and pour it into a waiting cup. Hah! He still had the old skills. He remembered a time when he’d had to do everything one-handed. A time when he’d had one arm constantly wrapped around his precious bundle.

Not constantly enough came the bitter thought. He pushed it to one side as usual. Not that he was repressing, he told himself, just preferred not to think about certain things.

He knocked back the pig’s blood and returned to contemplate a dozy, relaxed Spike. It suddenly occurred to him how vulnerable Spike had made himself by agreeing to this. It took a great deal of trust. Did Spike trust him that much? Or had he just given up? Huh. Spike give up? He was sure that if he looked up ‘tenacious’ in the dictionary he would see Spike’s face staring back at him.

So Spike trusted him? That was kind of surprising. He let his mind coast aimlessly. Daytime really wasn’t his natural awake time. His eyes slowly began to drift shut. Until a noise disturbed him and they shot open.

He looked up to find that Eve had let herself into his apartment and was surveying the scene with her normal air of amused superiority.

“Oh how cosy! Are you playing happy families. How...umm...I don’t think ‘sweet’ quite covers it, do you? But don’t you think he’s a little old to play baby?”

“How did you get in here, Eve? Oh, never mind. What do you want?”

“Well, since you ask, lover...” she purred seductively.

“Sorry. No spell. No chance.”

“Blunt aren’t you? I find plain speaking so attractive in a man.” Angel ignored her teasing and waited her out patiently. “But as it happens there is something else.”

“Well?”

“The Senior Partners are concerned.”

“And exactly how does that effect me?”

“Really, Angel. You should know better by now. If the Senior Partners are concerned then you can guarantee it affects us all.”

“What is it this time?”

“It’s to do with him.” Eve nodded to the bed.

Angel followed her gaze.

He was fast asleep, his head fallen away from the bag, his mouth slightly open. Blood had once again managed to escape and trickled down one side of his face, marring his, otherwise, all too human appearance. Angel picked up a tissue to clean him up.

Eve started to laugh.

“Now isn’t this ironic? William the Bloody and his nursemaid, Angelus the Scourge of Europe!”

Angel found himself wishing Spike awake and back to his malicious self. He’d have a ready quip tripping of his tongue designed to put this poisonous bitch in her place. It crossed his mind that Spike must spend hours thinking them up. There again he’d always had a way with words and a way of seeing the truth, which in combination could be nuclear in its devastation.

He finished cleaning the blood and pulled up his blanket to make sure he was properly covered.

“Now why did you do that? I was enjoying the view.”

Angel growled quietly. He felt a little protective towards this helpless Spike.

However, it was more than that. Angelus was stirring somewhere deep inside and letting his irritation show by bombarding Angel’s mind with all sorts of creative ideas involving Eve and various everyday implements. Perhaps if she knew the fine line she walked it might help her fit of giggles.

“Lets do this down in my office.”

Gunn caught them as they were entering the office.

“Hey, Boss. I need to talk you about...”

“Good. Join us.”

“Ok. What’s up?”

“Apparently we have a problem.” He nodded at Eve to continue.

“The Senior Partners do not approve of you taking out Spike. You realise he’s now changed from pawn to major player?”

Gunn bridled slightly at that.

“Hang on a moment. Let’s get this straight. Spike would have been out of the game, permanently, if we hadn’t taken this action.”

“What makes you think that?” Eve asked quietly and looked towards Angel. She was pleased to note that Gunn had followed her gaze. She smiled slightly because damn, she was good!

“I don’t know what petty jealousies motivated you but, please, don’t insult my intelligence. There is one certainty in this world, Spike survives.”

‘Like a cockroach’, sprang immediately to Angel’s mind, more from habit than malice. Considering the way the other two were looking at him, he very wisely decided to keep the thought to himself.

For a second there, the bitch had almost convinced him that Angel had ulterior motives in his dealings with Spike. Then he remembered just how faded the normally ebullient vampire had looked.

“Petty jealousies? Be careful, Eve, or I’m going to sue your ass.” Gunn smiled pleasantly. “Re Butler v Jessop...” he was about to add a date but found he couldn’t recall it, he frowned and then covered quickly, “I suggest you look it up.”

‘Now wasn’t that interesting?’ Eve thought as she looked at him curiously, saying, “Yes, I will...would you care to join me?”

Angel sensed the discomfort she was causing and took over.

“So the Senior Partners aren’t happy. That’s sad, but I find myself strangely unmoved. Even if we were inclined to bring him back, it doesn’t work that way. He’ll recover in his own time.”

“And how long will that take? Days? Weeks? Months?”

Gunn shook his head and Angel nodded in agreement.

“I’m afraid I really couldn’t tell you.”

“I see. In that case, we’ll call this meeting over and I’ll go back and report.”

She swished out with her head held high but her mouth was a thin, hard line and betrayed her annoyance.

Gunn waited until the door had shut behind her.

“I don’t think this was about the Senior Partners, the girl was just on a fishing trip.”

“I agree, but why? If not for them, then for who? I don’t trust her. She is playing her own game.”

A snort of agreement answered him.

“We know so little about her. Do me a favour? We have access to all contracts and agreements natural and supernatural?”

Gun nodded.

“You’ve got all this knowledge, its time we made use of it for a really good cause.”

Angel smiled at him. So far they had all virtually ignored Gunn’s new talent, as being something vaguely unwholesome. In contrast, they all made use of his own position as CEO of an evil law firm and used it in their attempt to do good. It was time to accept that Gunn’s mystically acquired skills could also be used in the cause.

“I want you to find out all about her and every agreement she’s ever made. Go through them with a fine toothcomb. See if there is anything there that will give us a clue.”

Gunn hesitated. He wanted to mention that he thought there might be a glitch in his new Mr Amazing memory act. But Angel trusted him to do this and it felt good to be recognised for something other than his brawn.

“I’m on it, Boss.” he replied.

As he left the office he found Eve waiting outside. Her eyes screwed up slightly in concern.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, girl.” He replied, trying to stride away from her. She was fast for such a little person.

“I just couldn’t help noticing that your upgrade seems to be...downgrading slightly?”

“It’s not a problem.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is. After all you were quite happy, you know, before you became...intelligent.” She gave him a bright smile.

“The Senior Partners giveth and the Senior Partners taketh away.” she breezed.

Lindsey would be pleased with today’s work and she smiled secretively at exactly how pleased he might be.

Gunn was left standing, stunned and alone, in a very long corridor.

“Back to being a stupid, muscle bound buffoon?” he thought to himself.

Whereas, old Gunn might have considered it odd how ‘Educated People’ measured everyone to their own yardstick of intelligence, in which smart, wise and loyal never seemed to figure. New Gunn merely used the yardstick to beat himself up with.

He figured it wouldn’t help anyone if he lost his intelligence. There again it was just one little date he’d forgotten. Fred used to say that there were always some little niggles whenever you tried to upgrade anything. He’d wait and see. No point rushing anything.

His bleeper went off. Strange, he’d only just left Angel. He returned to find the whole gang standing in the office. It appeared everyone had got the call.

Angel had the phone to his ear and looked to be in shock. ‘Shit, who’s died?’ Gunn wondered and did another quick reccy of the room. No, all here. Except Spike.

Angel looked at them whilst still listening to the person on the line.

“Its Cordelia.”

No wonder he looked so shocked and confused.

“I’m so sorry, man.” Gunn said.

“No.” Angel gestured at the phone. “Its Cordelia!”

Chapter 3

Visions

Angel’s pov

“I know. I’m a vision of hotliness. How weird is that?”

Everyone laughs because we had all given up hope and it’s been so very long since we’ve seen Cordy like this. So bright. So focused. So beautiful. Like a cool, fresh breeze bringing the promise of clearer skies. I sit back in my chair and laugh along with the others, drinking in the sight of her.

She tells us about the vision that roused her from her coma and they go to research the runes she saw, tattooed on the body of a man. They are chattering happily and it feels good. It feels like the old times. And now, at last, I have her to myself. Nearly.

There’s a shadow in the doorway and Eve walks in. I’m sure that she’s been eavesdropping. She starts to blow off about the $10 million bail the Company lost. She reminds me of everything I hate about where I am now. It makes me cringe that Cordelia is listening to this and realising how far I’ve strayed. Finally Eve deigns to notices her.

“And who is this?” she asks in a patronising tone.

Cordelia lifts her head high at the tone that’s been adopted.

“I’m Cordelia Chase.” She answers and there is nothing but ice in her voice.

“Hi, I’m...”

“I didn’t ask.”

I can’t help grinning. Queen C. Haven’t seen her for a while. Gotta love that girl! I am so proud of her for not taking all the ambivalent crap that we put up with. She’s right, Eve isn’t the sort of person we should be listening to. Jeez, she tried to kill me. Why did I let her stay? Oh yeah. Can’t afford to upset the Senior Partners.

They trade a few more insults. We’re really going to have to do something about Eve, I think to myself, as she finally leaves. I hear her using her mobile as she walks away, saying brusquely, “Cordelia Chase is back.” She’s obviously forgotten about vamp hearing and I wonder just who would be interested in that bit of news?

Cordelia looks at me and it’s as if her clear, wide eyes see through to my soul. After exposing her to Evil Eve and the glimpses she’s caught of the various demons we deal with, I feel defensive. I try to tell her about all the good I’m doing here, but she doesn’t buy it.

She knows I’m lost.

She still remembers Connor and the relief of having another person to share this burden with does my soul good. She is cross, tells me I’ve raped their minds by taking away the memory of him. I need to hear this because my moral compass is damaged and no longer points north. She gives me direction.

But this is one thing I refuse to regret. I did it for him. For Connor. I remember Spike telling me that the girl, Dana, had borne too much pain. It had made her a monster. Between us: myself, Holzt, Jasmine and yes, even Cordelia, we made a monster out of Connor. When I think of the baby I held in my arms, so innocent and perfect, it breaks my heart. So, no regrets. His tormented soul has finally found some peace and he’s growing up into everything I had wished for him. Is there a price I wouldn’t pay for that?

However, talking of tormented souls I need to make another confession...

“Uh...you know they told you about Spike? How he has a soul and everything?”

“Oh yeah! I mean you the CEO of an evil law firm and Spike is good, what weirdo alternative universe have I landed in?” she joked. I think she was joking.

“Yeah. Well. He’s sort of a hero now, has his own seer and everything.” Jees, I’m babbling, “And we took his memories away.” I finally mumble.

At this point I’m looking at my feet and scuffing the toes of my shoes on the carpet. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to see the disappointed on her face.

“Okay. This playing with people’s memories is getting far too ‘Groundhog Day’ for my liking. You better have a good explanation, Buster.”

So I explain and she begins to look less severe, thank God. I so do not want Cordy upset with me.

“You know, the thing that makes you so...’Jack Sparrow’, is the lengths you’re prepared to go to for the people you care about.” She shakes her head sadly.

“Jack Sparrow?” I ask. I feel my brow creasing in confusion.

“Unpredictable? Morally ambiguous?”

“Oh...I thought you meant...uh...camp.” I said, running a hand through my hair and feeling kind of embarrassed.

She starts to laugh. I feel my lips begin to twitch, as well.

“What is this, Cordy? Did they give you visions of all the latest movies, whilst you were...uh...away?” I ask because it’s scary how much she seems to know. I wonder if anything we told her was actually news to her at all? She rolls her eyes.

“I wish. My visions aren’t quite so entertaining.”

“You never saw ‘Lost in Translation’.” I mutter. Stories about emotionally lost people don’t appeal to me, for some reason.

She gives me one of her megawatt smiles and suddenly hugs me, saying, “You did a good thing for Spike.”

“Did I? I find it hard to tell sometimes.”

“Now, I want none of that, Broodboy. You listen to me. I was given a vision and sent to share it with you. You know what that means? You’re still their champion. You’re not abandoned and, despite your really awful decisions recently, you’re not beyond hope.”

Her words almost sizzle as they hit me, like the first drops of rain falling on parched land and I am desperate for them. Because I feel so alone in all this. Because it was me who made the deal for Connor and took the helm of this damned law firm. Because the others followed me. Maybe they each had their reasons but if I hadn’t have accepted they would not be here. Sometimes it’s hard to keep faith. Days when I feel like I’ve dragged them into damnation with me. I look at Cordy and know she understands me.

“So how is the not-so-evil undead doing?” she asks brightly.

“He’s still got no feeling or movement in his hands but definitely getting stronger. He gave Fred his first smile yesterday. He got a bit of language back today.”

“I remember his language and I pale to think what his first words were. My money’s on ‘bloody hell!’”

“Actually it was ‘Angel’. I mean the way they all talk to him it was inevitable, ‘do you want Angel to get your blood now?’” I mimicked, “it was always going to be a close call between ‘Angel’ and ‘blood’.”

Despite my words, I had to admit that I did feel flattered. I caught Cordelia’s look and it was so tender I could swear I felt my heart beat.

“Sounds like he’s doing fine. Do you mind if I look in on him sometime?”

“Of course, he likes visitors. I forget how sociable he is. He must get lonely here sometimes. Although he has his seer now.” I’m babbling again. Cordelia just affects me that way.

“And he has you and the rest of the gang.”

I nod but knew that it was only Fred who made any time for him.

“He saved Fred’s life once, you know. He risked hell rather than see her die. He hardly knew her then.”

“You must be proud of him.”

I look up in surprise.

“He’s sort of like your childe, isn’t he? I can’t imagine that crazy vamp had much to do with the raising of him.”

“Anything good in him survived despite me, not because of me.”

“Even more reason to be proud of him.” Cordelia says decidedly.

“Yeah. I guess...” I had never considered Spike in quite this light. Pain in the ass? Definitely. Rival? Yeah. A childe to be proud of? That required further thought.

Gunn interrupts us, poking his head around the door and asking, “You busy, Angel?”

“No, its fine. Come in.” I reply.

“I’ve managed to turn up something on, Eve. We’ve got an address of someone she has had dealings with recently. Down town area, not her usual sort of hangout.”

“What have you got?”

“Actually, I don’t know. She’s managed to hide part of it from us. We know she made an agreement there. The particulars of which, I can assure you, you do not want to know, but that is one kinky lady.”

“Anyway, we have details of the agreement, we have yesterday as the contractual date and we have the address where the contract was closed. We do not have the name of the other party. It’s been hidden from us, from the Senior Partners, everyone.”

“I’ve had the mystics scan the address and there is nothing there. It’s as though it doesn’t exist. My theory is that its been hidden to prevent the person living there becoming susceptible to surveillance. We only came across it because we weren’t searching for it specifically. We came at it through Eve, through the backdoor, so to speak.”

“So the contract itself doesn’t affect us.”

“Man, I hope not. It’s just some skanky verbal agreement. You know, to do with, well, sex.”

“We have copies of that sort of stuff? Well...ok. Obviously we do. It just seems a little...”

“Oh, yeah!” Cordelia and Gunn both agreed with similar grimaces of distaste.

“So are we checking out this address, Boss?”

I nodded and turned to Cordy.

“You ok?”

“Uh huh. I’ll go keep the ‘Bleached and the Beautiful’ company.”

I could feel myself frowning.

“You think he’s beautiful?”

“Uh, duh!”

I wasn’t sure if that meant ‘Duh! Of course I find him beautiful, doesn’t everybody’ or ‘Duh! Don’t you even know when I’m being sarcastic.’ so I let it lie. I sometimes forget how these Sunnydale people seem to speak another language. Spike could tune into it but I frequently find myself at a disadvantage.

***

The reason why the scryers couldn’t see the apartment was obvious as soon as we walked in. It’s covered in runes. Exactly the same as the one’s from Cordy’s vision that Wesley had identified as being concealment runes.

The room is almost empty. A pair of jeans, a pair of cowboy boots and what appears to be a pad with crib notes written on it. A few key words on each page and I recognise them all.

Sleminthe parasite. Anaesthetic. Nightmares. Next page. Dana. Asylum. Dr Rabinaw. A few more names and places that have featured in some of our cases recently.

“I think I recognise the writing.” I say, showing the pad to Gunn.

“Eve.” we both agree.

“You know what else these have in common?”

Gunn shakes his head trying to get the connection. No he wouldn’t. He may be brighter than I am but I’ve had a vested interest in all these cases. These are my failures, my embarrassments and...

“They’re all cases where Spike waded in and saved the day.” I tell him.

Gunn sees it straight away.

“And he was directed to them by his ‘seer’. Who, it appears, is getting insider information from our sweet, little Eve. Spike has been manipulated.”

“Why would they do that?” I frown.

“Probably to get to you. Make you doubt yourself, doubt your mission.”

And it so nearly succeeded. I had come so close to giving up. I feel uplifted. Vindicated. They were trying to make me quit, so I must be doing something right after all - still a force to be reckoned with. It’s another sign that perhaps I haven’t strayed too badly. Maybe I can fix that compass of mine. Then the familiar guilt comes crashing in. My faith restored at the expense of Spike and his newly awakened belief in his destiny. I have Cordelia and her visions and a purpose. Spike has been left with nothing.

We return home and I take the elevator to my apartment, to find them both sitting up in bed, with a bowl of snacks between them. They seem to have a system going. Each time Spike nudges her, Cordy automatically pops a Cheezy Puff into his mouth. They look so comfortable and relaxed together that I have a momentary twinge of jealousy. Whether it’s of Spike or Cordy, I couldn’t say. Then it dawns on me that I have no need to be jealous, I’m not an outsider, I’m part of it. I could sit between them and they would welcome me and feed me Cheezy Puffs. I grin because I’m having a revelation involving snack food and because, well I’m not entirely sure, it’s been so long since I’ve felt like this but, I think I’m...happy.

They’re watching a video of...Doyle? Cordelia is talking to Spike, telling him about our old life. It is like a splash of cold water and brings me back to myself. Doyle is nervously telling us that, “our rats are low”. Video-Cordy berates him.

I’m not stupid, I know what she is trying to make me see with this little scene. I’ve wandered far from the mission that Doyle gave his life for. This is my wake up call.

“Hi.” I say softly, reluctant to interrupt.

Spike gives me a happy grin, as he nudges Cordelia again and gets yet another snack popped into his mouth. He has an unnatural orange stain around his mouth and looks so pleased with himself I can’t help but return his smile. I realise that I can’t remember when he last looked at me like that. I mean, with a genuine smile, not his sarcastic smirk or that stinging, contemptuous curl of the lips.

And I can hardly believe it! But I swear the little git just rolled his eyes at me as I dropped into brood mode...I mean, pensive contemplation. Is he starting to remember me? Already? I look at Cordelia but she appears oblivious to it.

“Hi there! How did you get on?” she asks.

“Found out Eve is up to her neck in it. She’s in league with Spike’s so called ‘seer’.” I answer.

I see Spike cock his head at the mention of his name. I’m pretty confident that he won’t yet understand a word of this, so I continue.

“They were playing him, pretending he had a higher purpose but it was all a sham, an attempt to bring me down. We’re going to have a little chat with Eve now.”

Cordelia turns towards Spike and puts a hand to his cheek, making him look at her.

“Hey. Listen up. Just because they were pulling your strings, doing a ‘Captain Scarlett’ number on you that doesn’t discount the lives you saved and it doesn’t mean that you don’t have a higher purpose.”

She gives him a gentle kiss.

“It doesn’t mean you’re not needed.”

The feeling of love hits me like a ball of warmth in the stomach and spreads out through my body, I think I must glow from the heat of it. I don’t think I shall ever meet such a compassionate, witty, sassy, sexy, straight talking, beautiful woman.

I look at them both and wish that I could stop time, right here. My fingers itch for a piece of charcoal to capture this moment forever. All the affection I hide behind my heavy frown and stoic demeanour is clamouring for release.

He is staring back at her solemnly and I wonder how much he does understand.

I don’t want to leave him alone but we’ve got a confession to wring from an evil bitch. It could get nasty and I don’t want it to stir up bad memories for him, I always manage to mess up the people I care about. I’m determined that it won’t happen with Spike, not this time around.

Huh? People I care about? I care about Spike? Ok, not such a startling revelation. Just something I hide from, another thing I repress, for so many reasons - mainly because I feel like I’ve failed him. Badly. In admitting it I feel like a weight has lifted. With the admission there comes the possibility that I can fix what’s wrong between us.

“Never doubt it.” Cordy whispers.

If this was anyone but Cordy I’d feel spooked.

“Bye, Spike” she calls.

He waves a bandaged hand in response.

“You know what to do if you need me?” I ask.

He nods at me and settles down to watch some awful soap opera. Weird taste this childe.

***

Eve was trying to rush away but I invited her into my office and refused to take ‘no’ for an answer. We finally got the story from her. Her partner was Lindsey. I’m so stupid, I knew those cowboy boots rang a bell. He was actually in the building and heading for the failsafe.

We put Eve in the elevator and hit down. And it just kept going. I don’t think the Senior Partners like being betrayed. I can’t help but wonder what made her do it, throw away wealth and success. I mean, sure I’d do it, for the right motivation. For the greater good or for the people I love. The thought of Eve wanting to do good or loving anyone but herself was almost laughable.

We had to move fast. I couldn’t help wishing that Spike was with me. Instead, I had to take the more vulnerable humans. Fred gave Wes a quick hug before wishing us all luck. I looked at these determined people and that affection starts to seep out again. Despite this place, at heart, they remain unchanged. I am proud to say they are my friends.

The zombies slowed me down slightly but Wes and Gunn took them on, which gave me and Cordy a chance to reach Lindsey in time. It was a close run thing. Lindsey had managed to enhance his strength and speed but I felt so sure, so powerful.

There were no ambiguities here. I was doing the right thing. I had my friends protecting my back. I had Cordy by my side. Lindsey had picked the wrong day for a fight, and besides, he talked too much. Don’t villains know that taunting a guy gets his hackles up and spurs him on to greater heights?

It was a good little fight. In the end the Senior Partners stepped in and took him away, it appeared they weren’t very happy with Lindsey either. The only person clever enough to escape from the old Wolfram and Hart, body and soul intact, had been taken back into the bosom of the Company.

It’s been a good day. I wish I could end there.

But I can’t.

Cordelia is gone. And I feel all my plans, all my hopes, all my visions for the future come crashing down around me.

She looked at me strangely and said, “You’re welcome.”

I wanted to ask what for? But the telephone rang. They told me she never came around from her coma that she had died peacefully in her sleep. I turned to laugh with her at this stupid mistake but she’d vanished and I realised. She’d come back to give me hope, to give me love, to give me one near perfect day.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

Yes, thank you. But I need you. I hurt so much and there is no-one here to hold me.

I need her. I need love. I need...family.

I rush up to Spike and his scent is so familiar, he smells like home. A trace of Cordelia still remains on his lips and his face. I find myself clinging to him. My actions wake him but I can’t move. I want to say, ‘she’s gone’, but my throat is so tight I can’t form the words. I just bury my face in his neck.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, poofter.”

Oh God, Spike. Don’t do this to me. Not now. Don’t remember all the bad times just yet. Don’t remember how much you hate me. Let me have a few moments of comfort. I need you.

Before I’ve even thought about what I’m doing I’ve said the word and he’s looking back at me blankly.

My vision blurs as I hold him gently to me and let silent tears fall into his hair.

Chapter 4

Trust

Following Cordelia’s supernatural appearance and subsequent loss, the general feeling of disbelief began to give way to shocked acceptance. She had crashed through their lives like a tidal wave, sweeping away the bad and leaving calmer water behind her, as well as some collateral damage. It appeared to hit Angel the hardest. He stayed in his room, not answering their calls, only appearing if there was essential business that required his attention.

“Someone should go talk to him.” said Gunn.

“But not me.” He quickly qualified. “I’m not so hot with the warm vampire fuzzies.”

In the end it was Wesley who found himself riding up in the elevator to face the elusive vampire.

Angel appeared remarkably cheerful and Wesley couldn’t help commenting on this, in some surprise.

“She gave me the gift of her final day, Wes. It’s like, supposing someone gave me...jees, I don’t know...say, a perfect miniature ship. It would demean the gift if I started to complain that I wanted the full size version.”

Wesley was dumbfounded. Of all reactions he hadn’t expected this.

“I am relieved you see it in that light, Angel. To be perfectly frank we were worried about you. It’s surprisingly mature of you.”

“Uh. Thanks. I think.” Angel frowned slightly, as he tried to figure out if he felt complimented or insulted.

“I have to admit that it wasn’t my first reaction. I mean at first I was unhappy...”

Which Wesley wisely interpreted as ‘devastated’.

“...but, you know, I thought about it...”

‘Brooded’ Wesley translated,

“...and realised, she came back for a purpose - to put us all on the right track. So, I’m going to make damned sure she achieves it. I owe her that much.”

Wesley hoped he wouldn’t sound patronising but everyone needed encouragement sometimes.

“Do you know? I feel quite proud of you, Angel.”

One side of Angel’s mouth twitched as though a smile was trying to force an appearance, succeeded for a microsecond and then gave up, giving it more the appearance of a nervous tic.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Anyway,” said Wesley feeling more comfortable now he’d got the emotional thing out the way, “how’s our patient?”

Angel looked at the floor for a few seconds, and then he lifted his head and smiled brightly.

“He’s fine. You know...just Spike. Pain in the ass and all that.”

“Yes? Well that’s good, he must be feeling a bit better.”

“Uh huh. I mean, he hasn’t really improved any more since you last saw him.”

“Really? And he seemed to be coming on so well, too. May I see him?”

“No! I mean, yes. Yes, of course you can. Except he is sleeping at the moment and I’d rather you didn’t wake him.”

“In that case I’ll leave you to it, I must get back to work anyway. Will you be coming down later?”

“Maybe. I don’t like to leave him for long. Can you send someone up from Security, I think we should get a monitor installed in his room.”

“I could. But don’t you think that is a little excessive? An invasion of his privacy, even?”

“I need to keep an eye on him when I go to my office.”

“Ah. Quite. I’ll send someone up immediately.”

Angel called his thanks as Wes disappeared.

He returned to Spike’s room where the blonde vampire was sitting propped up in bed. Angel smiled gently at him but there was no answering one. H e seemed sadder this time around.

“Look. See? Angel’s brought you some tasty, delicious blood. Yum.”

This brought a spark of interest to his eye.

“Blood” he queried hopefully.

“Yes, blood.” Angel replied trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. Spike still didn’t know his name.

Spike was trying to use his hands to hold the bag himself, which normally ended up with a messy, frustrated vampire. He was fretful and needed more company to keep him entertained. Angel thought about it. He was now about the same level as when they had all last seen him. Generally more alert and taking an interest in everything around him. Perhaps it would be safe to let them back in.
***

Fred spotted Wesley as he emerged.

“So, how did it go?”

Wesley shook his head but didn’t want to speak about it in a public space.

“Can you call Lorne and we’ll all meet in Gunn’s office. I’ll tell you about it then.”

Once they had all gathered Wesley went through everything that had been said.

“But that sounds great. Why all the doom and glooms?” Lorne asked.

“Because I’ve known Angel for years and he is up to something.”

“So he’s hiding how upset he is over Cordelia. I don’t think there’s much we can do there. Just give him time, man.” Gunn answered.

“No. Actually, I believe him when he spoke about Cordelia. He’s sad but he’s coming to terms with it as best he can. No it’s Spike. He’s hardly been down here because he didn’t want to leave Spike. And he definitely wasn’t keen on letting me see him.”

“Angel said he was sleeping,” said Fred reasonably.

“Yes, that’s what he said. I don’t know, perhaps I’m blowing this out of proportion but he never really liked...although I’m sure he would never hurt him. Not when he’s in bed, injured and defenceless...”

Yet, for some reason, Wesley was less than certain about this. Sometimes he felt that Angel was capable of a great deal. He would tell himself that he was naturally getting him confused with Angelus, but subconsciously he was convinced that Angel could turn into as much a monster as Angelus ever was.

“Why don’t you attempt to see Spike and see what happens?”

***

Later that day, once he’d had a security camera installed and a monitor put on his desk, Angel finally returned to work for a couple of hours. He didn’t accomplish much. It was difficult to concentrate when he had to keep looking up every few seconds to make sure his boy was ok.

He knew he was overcompensating. Yes, he had raped Spike’s mind, as Cordelia so charmingly put it. But there had been extenuating circumstances. Spike would see that. He would understand. And look at all the care he had now. Nothing else was going to happen to Spike. Not on his watch. So he stayed with Spike, sat with him whilst he slept, talked to him constantly. He’d never opened up to anyone as much as he did to Spike in the last couple of days, although Spike didn’t actually understand any of it.

Part of him wished he’d just told Wes outright. He’d nearly admitted what had happened but then Wes had said he was proud of him and he hadn’t wanted to lose that. Angel rested his head in his hands and tried not to think anymore. He finally picked up his pen and tried to focus on the document in front of him.

Each of his friends managed to find some excuse to call in to chat. Funny. They were all remarkably determined to see Spike. All of them seemed to have taken a liking to this particular version of him. And he couldn’t blame them. It was ok though. He was ready. Maybe some human food to help them relax, put them at their ease, make them less suspicious. Yeah. That would work. He picked up the phone and ordered a takeaway for the evening.

***

Spike lay on the bed, trying to wiggle his fingers. It was exasperating, they wouldn’t move and he was fairly certain they were supposed to. He needed to be able to move, it seemed vital that he should be able to walk around like that other person did. He couldn’t afford to be so weak, so powerless, so dependent. But he had to pretend. Pretend to know nothing. Give nothing away. Because if he let anything slip something bad would happen.

Angel. That was his name. Sure, Angel appeared to like him. He kept him fed and looked after him. Liked him but as he was now, weak and powerless. So Spike kept his eyes blank, whilst hiding the anxiety he felt whenever Angel was in the room. Sometimes it would threaten to overwhelm him and he’d pull the covers over his head and pretend to be alone.

A word occurred to him. He rolled it around his mouth.

“Trust.” He whispered.

That was it. Mustn’t trust Angel.

***

Lorne was the first to arrive and had thoughtfully brought along his own alcohol, which he mixed to a concoction of his own devising.

“Guaranteed to bring a smile even to your face, Angelcakes.” He said as he poured the colourful liquid into a glass.

Angel sipped it as Lorne looked on expectantly and hoped that his pained grimace was mistaken for a smile. No such luck. Lorne poured himself one and took a careful sip. Hah! Definitely a grimace.

“Mmm. You’re right. A bit more Blue Curaco should do the trick.”

Angel wasn’t fooled. Nothing, short of magic, was going to turn this into anything palatable.

Fred and Wes arrived together, her hand slipped into the crook of his arm.

“Can we go in?” Fred asked.

Angel gave a nod and Fred gave Wesley a ‘what was all the fuss about’ look. They found him curled up, looking small and vulnerable in the huge bed, provided courtesy of Wolfram and Hart.

“Hey, Spike.” Fred said softly.

Strange voices? Spike’s eyes shot open. He tried to get a feeling for them.

“Remember me? It’s Fred. And this is Wes. We’re your friends.”

Yes, that was the vibe he was getting. These were friends.

He gave them a tentative smile and felt the full beam of Fred’s dazzling grin. He didn’t have much time. He could already hear those heavy footsteps coming towards the door. He turned his eyes to the one she’d called Wes.

Wesley could hear Angel and was about to turn towards the door when he was suddenly caught by the intensity of Spike’s gaze. His eyes were alert and watchful. Then clearly he saw Spike’s mouth form words, no more than a whisper.

The rest of the evening passed in a daze. Nobody seemed to notice how distracted he was. He let nothing show. He watched Spike carefully. Angel was right he hadn’t improved, if anything he seemed less himself than ever. He saw he’d caught Angel’s attention and smiled nervously at him. He must pay more attention. So when people laughed he joined in, he thought he might even have chipped in with one or two comments.

He ordered a car to take Fred home and made his way to a phone booth. He was fairly certain that his mobile, office and home phones were bugged as a matter of course. He took out a bit of paper and dialled a number.

“Hello. Rupert. Yes, it’s me. I’m very well, thank you. I need your advice. I think we may have a problem. Yes. I’m afraid it’s Spike...”

Wesley was a troubled man. He hadn’t wanted to phone Giles but who else was there? He fell into an uneasy sleep as Spike’s “Help me!” echoed distressingly in his head. ‘And God help me,’ he thought

***

Angel had started to notice something. Spike’s behaviour underwent a change when he was watching him on the screen, to when he was actually in the room with him. He asked for backup tapes and played them through. Yes, there Spike was watching television and laughing enthusiastically at something and suddenly his face became tense and closed off. The next second he saw himself entering the room and Spike pretending to sleep. What the hell was going on?

Everything else could wait. They needed to talk.

So here he was sitting uncomfortably in Spike’s room, the blonde vampire refusing to make eye contact, wondering how to begin. He was part annoyed. Was pissing him off so inbred that. even when he remembered nothing else, this came to him instinctively? Mostly though, he just felt guilt. No change there then.

Ok. He needed to start talking.

“I know you can understand me, Spike.”

This caused him to turn his head away. Right. Good start, Angel.

“You know I want to see you get better, don’t you.”

He thought he heard a slight snort.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

No reaction.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you get better? Tell me. What’s going on in that warped little mind of yours?”

“You like me better like this.” Came the soft reply.

So Spike could speak. He knew it!

“No. That’s not true.” Angel replied.

Spike turned and looked at him, eyes filled with disbelief.

“Well. Yeah. Maybe it is. But that’s not the issue. It’s not about me. It’s about getting you well. I want to see you well.”

Spike looked doubtful.

“Look. What exactly do you remember and I’ll try to explain.”

“Don’t remember anything.”

“There must be something. Why are you treating me like this?”

“Dunno. Just a feeling. You want me to stay like this. If I don’t you’ll...”

“I’ll what? What do you think I’ll do to you?” Then it hit him like a punch in the face. “You’re afraid of me.”

“I can’t feed myself. I’m helpless. And I’m dependent on you. I don’t even know myself, never mind you.” Spike murmured defensively, trying to divert any resulting wrath.

Angel didn’t look angry, just rather sad.

“Would it help if I told you a bit about what’s happened?”

Spike nodded.

“We’re vampires.”

Again he nodded. Now that he heard the words, he found that he already knew that.

“So. I kill people.” He said sadly.

“Did you feel like killing Gunn or Wesley or Fred last night?”

“No.” he replied in a puzzled voice. “No. I didn’t.”

“You don’t kill people. Not any more. You went out and won yourself a soul. You’re good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“You’re a vampire?” He asked and Angel nodded. “Do you kill people?”

“No.”

“Well, not usually.” He qualified. “I have a soul.”

“You went and got one, too?”

“Well, actually, I got mine first.” For some reason, it was important that he was clear on this point. He was the original, souled vampire.

“I didn’t win it though. I was cursed with it.” He admitted. “So, any more questions?”

“You’ll tell me the truth if I ask?”

“Promise. The truth, as far as I know it.”

“Huh. Are there many of us?”

“Souled vampires? We’re the only two I know of.”

“Why can’t I remember?”

“We set up a spell, if one of us says the word then you forget.” Spike’s answering look was filled with suspicion.

“You needed it, Spike. Both of us have done stuff in the past. I’ve had a stint in hell and one hundred years to help me come to terms with it. But it’s still all too new to you. Then you got badly hurt.” He gestured to the bandaged wrists. “We thought we were going to lose you. This was the only way we could think of to help you.”

“Did I agree?”

“Yeah...”

“Then why don’t I trust you?”

And here it was. He’d wanted to know why Spike didn’t trust him, now he had to put himself in Spike’s position and try to come up with a reason. He started to think about it and...oh...where the hell to start.

“It’s complicated.” He said.

“Yeah? Well, explain it to me, real slow, then.”

“Ok.” Angel resigned himself to it. After all he had promised. “Starting with most recently. I...uh accidentally made you lose your memory again.”

“So this word that makes me forget, it could accidentally slip out in casual conversation?”

“No...not exactly. I was upset...I wasn’t thinking...but you called me a poof!” Angel said indignantly. Spike’s lips twitched.

“Yeah? Now that you mention it, I look at you and that’s what springs to mind.” Angel looked horrified.

“Nah. I mean, like a name, a title. Do I normally call you Angel?”

Shake of his head.

“Then what do I normally call you?”

“Whatever springs to mind. Peaches, Wanker, Poof.” Angel admitted.

“There we are then. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s almost like a pet name, a term of endearment, ain’t it?”

Then he laughed. “We don’t like each other much, do we?”

Another shake of his head.

“So you were upset. You came to me. I called you a name that reminded you that we weren’t the best of pals. You wanted the more pliable me back and made me forget?”

Nod of the head.

“So that’s why I’ve been trying to hide any sign of return to my old self. Cus you might suddenly decide for me again and take it all away.”

“Perhaps.” Nothing changes, Angel thought. Trust Spike to always see to the heart of things.

“Well, are you? Are you going to take it away again? I can’t stop you. Are you going to keep me like this forever?”

“No. Of course not!” Angel denied. “Look. I am sorry. I was sorry as soon I’d done it, but it was too late then. Just give me a chance, Spike. I’ll make it up to you.”

“So that’s the ‘most recently’ taken care of. What else have you done to me?”

“Hey. Its not all one sided you know! Do hot pokers and needle nosed pliers ring any bells with you?”

Spike raised an eyebrow and Angel looked away.

“Well, no. Obviously not. Well...like I said it’s complicated.”

Oh, there goes that eyebrow again. There was no getting out of this.

“Well the memory slip up might have been compounded by the fact that you’ve been helpless before.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Broken back. Wheelchair.”

“And you what? Looked after me? Cared for me?”

“I’d lost my soul.”

“Right.” Spike just looked resigned. “I don’t want a catalogue of things you did to me. Just tell me the worst.”

“Haven’t we had enough honesty for one day.” Angel asked awkwardly. Spike just continued to look at him. Ok, deep breath and get it over with.

“I took Dru away from you. My childe. Your sire. You loved her. You’d been together for over 100 years.”

“She left me? After all that time? For you?”

“It’s the way I made her. She can’t help it. She’ll always be looking for her Daddy, no matter what you or I do.”

“Why did she stay so long with me, if she wanted you?”

“Not me. The unsouled me. Angelus. When I got my soul you were her only connection to him. You became a sort of substitute, I guess.”

Oh no. He could have phrased that better.

“You’re right. Enough honesty for one day.”

Angel saw how upset he had become.

“She did care for you, you know.”

“I’m hungry.”

He knew Spike in this mood. He’d had enough and wasn’t going to hear any more.

“I’ll heat you up some blood.”

“I want proper food.”

“Proper?”

“Yeah. I found a couple of these in the bed.” He held up a Cheezy Puff. “I want some of these.”

***

Wesley was a few minutes early but finally the phone rang. He stepped into the booth, answered it and listened carefully. He sighed in relief.

“I should have thought of that. Thank you for your help, Rupert. It is very much appreciated and hopefully you won’t be hearing from me again for a while. Goodbye.”

Angel obviously cared for Spike and Wesley wanted to trust him. Giles had eventually agreed that it was probably a one off mistake brought on by Cordelia’s death. Even so they decided to take precautions.

He went to a small locked room, deep within the Wolfram and Hart vaults. Three crystals glowed within a pentagon. Wesley didn’t want to dismantle the spell. Instead, he carefully surrounded it with a thick circle of white powder, muttering an incantation as he did so. When that was complete he picked up the smallest crystal, put it in his shirt pocket and left.

***

Angel really didn’t want to go. He’d had a great day following his chat with Spike. He’d sat on the bed and fed him those awful snack things. He’d tried one himself and shot off the bed retching and holding his throat. Despite the cold blood he’d gulped down he could still taste the chemicals and processed corn. Spike had found his reaction hysterical and called him a drama queen.

Spike had tried to pick them out of the bag by himself and discovered he did have some slight movement in his fingers but unfortunately no feeling, so he ended up either dropping or crushing them. Angel had an idea and came in with some brightly coloured rattles.

“I’ve still got these.”

Spike’s look could have withered fresh, green grass.

“They might help. You know...you can practise you grip.”

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“How old am I?

“Huh? What in vampire years?”

“No. In frigging dog years. What do you think!” Spike griped.

“Well Jees! No need to bite my head off. I thought you might want to include your human years. Lets think...1880...ok, about 124.”

“Riight that’s 124 years. Not 4 sodding months!”

“Alright! I just thought they might help.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“Where did you get these, anyway? You been stealing from babies? Thought you were good now?”

Angel considered for a minute and then made a decision.

“They’re all that’s left of my time with Connor.”

He waited for Spike to ask.

“Connor?”

“Yeah. My son.”

He spent the rest of the afternoon pouring out his heart to Spike, right up to the deal he’d made with Wolfram and Hart.

“When I went to the room that used to be his all that was left were these, lying in the dust.” Angel finished.

“I’m sorry, luv.”

“It’s okay. These things happen.” Oh God, he could feel himself choking.

“Yeah. Right. ‘These things happen’. ‘Life goes on’. ‘Things will look better in the morning’.” Spike quoted. “You don’t need to pull all that crap with me.”

He saw Angel’s face. “Christ! C’mere.”

He pulled him roughly to his shoulder.

“You don’t always have to pretend that everything is ok. Not here anyway.”

Angel allowed himself to relax into Spike’s shoulder.

Spike tried to pat him comfortingly. Given his returning strength and complete absence of feeling in his hands, this affectionate patting felt remarkably like being hit around the head with a shovel. Angel wriggled away from the ‘comfort’.

“Yeah. Cheers Spike. I feel much better now.”

He looked at Spike’s confused face.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Spike gave a grin.

“Git.”

“Yeah, well. That’ll teach you to brood.”

“I was not brooding...” Oh honestly. What was the point.

Then his phone had started to ring. He had an appointment. Really couldn’t be missed. Blah, blah, blah.

He called Fred and asked her to baby sit. Luckily he didn’t catch the expression on Spike’s face. In the end both Fred and Wes said they would come up.

“They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.” He said to Spike.

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve only seen them for a couple of hours and any idiot can see they’re in love.”

“Really?”

“Honestly, Angel. Just take your swirly coat and big sword and go save the day.”

“I wish I could. Instead I have to skank around some self-important demon. They’ll be up in a moment. You’ve got my bleeper if you need me?”

“Yeah. Stop being such a mother hen and just go will you.”

Spike settled back down to sleep

***

Angel looked at his bleeper. Spike? It stopped and he sighed in relief. Then it started again.

He didn’t even make his apologies but swept out of the building and began to run like the wind back to his car.

Ok. There was only one way into the penthouse so he’d have to take it. The elevator doors opened.

“Hello, Angel.”

Oh. He knew that voice and it wasn’t good.

“Stand down, Lawson.”

“Sorry chief. Can’t do that.”

“What do you want?”

“Same thing everyone wants, I guess. To understand. To have a mission. Used to be simpler in those days didn’t it? On the submarine. Didn’t need to understand, there was only the mission.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just what I’m getting? The fear in your eyes, as you wonder if they’re still alive. Well? Why don’t you go in and look?”

Angel pushed open the door to Spike’s room fearful of what he might see. Fred, Wesley and Spike were tied to chairs. They looked unhurt. Except that each of them had their heads thrown back at an awkward angle. He was about to rush towards them but found Lawson between him and his friends. He raised his hand to push him out of the way.

“I wouldn’t try rough housing if I was you, chief. That’s piano wire around their necks. One tumble and it’s...” he made a cutting sound as he drew a line across the front of his throat. “Apart from Spike, of course, who will simply poof into nothing.”

Angel was growing coldly angry but this vampire in front of him was right. He wasn’t going to risk harming them. He decided the safest thing was to just let Lawson talk.

“So you kept Spike. Yet you turned me and sent me away. There I was, no mission, no purpose, you left me with nothing. Why did you do that? I so was lost, I did all the things I thought might bring me peace. All the terrible things that a monster does—murdered women and children, tortured fathers and husbands just to hear them scream—and through it all... I felt nothing. 60 years of blood drying in my throat like ashes. So what do you think? Is it me, chief? Or does everyone you sired feel this way?”

“You're the only one I ever did this to...after I got a soul.” Angel replied.

“Do I have one, too?”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“You gave me just enough, didn't you? Enough of your soul to keep me trapped between who I was and who I should be. I'm nothing...because of you. And if I kill Spike and these humans it won’t make things better but it would hurt you and maybe that’s enough of a mission.”

Angel had listened enough. He picked the other man up and threw him away from Spike and his humans. Lawson crashed into a wooden framed mirror, jumped swiftly to his feet, tearing a piece of the broken frame away. Angel flew towards him and smashed a fist into his face. Lawson reeled with the blow, recovered quickly, and struck out with his bit of wood. Angel caught the movement and turned it back so the wooden fragment was now travelling inexorably towards the younger vampire’s heart.

“Come on chief, give me my mission.” Lawson invited.

Angel pushed it in and closed his eyes to keep out the dust.

He carefully released each of them in turn.

“You know, Angel? He really was the most peculiar vampire. It’s most fascinating, supposing he did have a soul?”

“I find myself overwhelmed with the not caring.” Angel answered. He looked at Spike.

“No one messes with...” he just managed to prevent himself from saying ‘what’s mine’ changing it to “...my friends.”

“But that could have been Spike only a year ago. He seemed so close to finding something.”

Angel looked at him. How could he put it so Wes would understand? He didn’t give a damn as long as Spike himself was safe.

“Wes, I understand what you’re saying but I was in the middle of a situation and I wasn’t going to risk any of you. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. If anyone hurts you,” he gave a quick glance towards Spike, “I’ll kill them.”

He was so matter fact it made Wesley shudder. Fred, however was giving Angel a quick hug.

“Thank you. I knew we could trust you to come to our rescue.”

Spike was curiously quiet and Angel put it down to shock. Once the other two had left he tried to help Spike back to the bed.

“S’okay, I can manage to totter that far.”

“So...you alright?”

“Don’t like being so sodding helpless that’s all.”

Angel sat on the bed next to him and cradled him kissing him gently on the head.

“Don’t worry littl’un. You’re getting stronger all the time. Just go to sleep.”

“Don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight.”

“Do you want some hot milk? I’ve heard that it’s a soporific, it might help?”

“Angel.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?” he started to laugh. “Don’t be an idiot, you’re not strong enough to go anywhere.”

“Ok. Soon as I’m strong enough, I’m leaving.”

“But...I like having you here!”

“Why? You got big plans for me have you? Decided what university you want me to go to? Shall we go fly a kite? Perhaps we can play model railways?”

“What the hell is this?”

“Who am I, Angel?”

Angel looked at him fondly.

“You’re my boy. My child.”

“I am a 124 year old vampire.”

“Yeah. That too.”

“I am not Connor.”

“I never said you were.”

“I do not play with rattles, I do not need baby sitters and I do not drink warm milk.”

“I never...”

“Yeah, Angel. You did. And it sounds like I’ve already wasted a hundred years being a poor substitute for someone else. It’s not going to happen again.”

“You’re not a substitute!”

“I suppose I can count myself lucky that you at least remembered to feed me blood instead of bottles of formula milk.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Spike. You are not a substitute and you are not leaving, That’s final.”

“Is that right? Daddy. You don’t own me, you know.”

Angel suddenly seemed to deflate.

“No I don’t. No more than you own me. But don’t go Spike. I can make this right again. I can fix it.”

“No, Angel you can’t. Thing is I want this. I want to be here...with you. Its too tempting. That’s why I have to go.”

“Well that made no frigging sense at all. Just go back to bed, Spike.”

“And you say you don’t handle me like a human child! Bloody hell, Angel! What do I have to do to make you see, how you’re treating me?”

“Is it so bad?”

“I need to be loved for myself, not as a reflection of someone else. You haven’t really been considering me in all this, have you?”

“Of course I have. Every thought I have I relate back to you. I’m fighting and wishing you were there to help me, or laughing and thinking how much it would amuse you!” Angel felt so frustrated. It was as though Spike had already made up his mind and wasn’t really hearing what he was saying.

“Don’t leave me, Spike.”

“I have to. You know, I think I know why the old me hated you.”

“Go on.”

“Because if I let myself love you, it would break me when you let me down.”

“What makes you think I’d let you down?”

“I just get the impression that you always do.”

“You’re not going to leave me Spike. I’ll prove that I think of you as yourself, as an equal and as a vampire.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Why won’t you listen! Give me one last chance, please? Trust me?”

“Trust you!”

“You are not going to leave me, Spike.”

“Really? And how do you plan to stop me. I just make a call and Wes or Fred or Gunn would get me away from here.”

Angel’s eyes gleamed and Spike suddenly caught on.

“You sodding well dare! You do not have my permission.”

Angel shook his head and gave his pleading puppy dog look.

“Just one last time, Spike. Let me put it right. I promise to get it right this time.”

“Don’t do it, Angel. For your sake as well as mine.”

Just a shake of the head.

Followed by a single solitary word.

“See. I had to do it, Spike. I can’t lose you now. I promise I’ll remember you’re a vampire this time but you’ll always be my childe. So feed, childe.”

He gouged his neck over the main artery and brought Spike towards it. He smiled as Spike automatically vamped out, just like the first time with the blood bag. He felt his lips on the wound and then the rush as Spike sucked down Sire blood.

“I’m sorry. You’re right I forgot what you were. I should have done this right from the start. Drink deep. It will help you heal.”

***

Wesley felt a slight warmth in his shirt pocket. He took out the crystal and regarded it with apprehension. He prayed there had been a mistake as he raced down to the vault. The powder circle was still intact but it had been distorted as though swept out of shape by a draught or a breeze. He could feel the tension stiffening his shoulders and making his neck ache. He walked slowly to the telephone booth and made the call he’d hoped that he’d never have make.

“Rupert. It’s happened.” He hung up and went back to his office to wait.

***

Spike seemed very wakeful and restless even hours after feeding.

“You can’t sleep? It’s the blood. It’s given you energy. Do you want me to put you to sleep, vampire fashion?”

Spike just stared back at him and Angel sighed.

“Its ok Spike, however it turns out this time, I promise, I’ll never do it again. I’ll dismantle the damned spell tomorrow.”

It was almost as if Spike understood. He relaxed slightly and his head dropped to one side, exposing his neck.

“Are you sure about this, I mean a nice glass of milk might do the trick.”

Spike’s look seemed to so clearly say ‘wanker’ that Angel started to laugh.

“Ok. Trust me, Spike. I’ll look after you. I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to let you go. So sleep. Vampire style.”

He nuzzled into Spike’s neck and delicately pierced the skin. It tasted so good. It danced on his tongue and enervated every cell. This is what he’d been missing all those years. Then too his amazement he could feel the old bond open up, the blood link. He had forgotten about this. It had been so long since he’d shared blood with family. He knew what Spike was feeling and it was happiness...contentment. This went beyond his wildest dreams, it was bliss, it was beyond words. He was beginning to believe that he could make this work. He stroked a hand through Spike’s hair and let the blood flow down his throat, teasing the wound to keep it open, until he finally felt Spike’s limbs grow heavy and relaxed. He licked the wound to staunch the flow of blood and was so distracted that he didn’t hear the door open behind him. The next minute his world went black.

When Angel swam back to consciousness, he was still lying on Spike’s bed.

Spike was gone.

His boy was gone.

Angel let out a howl of anguish.

***

Wesley heard the howl even down in his office, where he’d been sitting, alone and apprehensive. Once Spike was safe he was supposed to go up to Angel and talk to him reasonably. After all Angel was good, Angel was reasonable, he’d never hurt his friends. Wesley realised he’d made a huge miscalculation, anyone who laid a finger on Spike was no longer a friend. Angel was fiercely possessive. He remembered how he’d reacted when Lawson had threatened them. Suddenly Wesley was very, very afraid. His heart was racing and he knew with the certainty of a hunted animal that he needed to get away.

***

Who would take his childe away? Who would do that? Hell did he even need to ask. He growled to himself.

“Wesley.”

He pressed the button for the elevator but it was already in use. Going down. He carefully scented the elevator shaft and caught the stench of fear. So the traitor thought he could run.

Wesley ran from the elevator to the welcoming darkness outside. If he could just make it to his car, if he...but there lounging indolently against the exit was Angel. His heart contracted in fear.

“How did you...” he stuttered.

Angel looked up the side of the building and said nonchalantly, “I took the short way down.”

“You going somewhere, Wes?”

Suddenly he had Wesley pushed up against the side with his neck in a stranglehold.

“Tell me, Human, how many times must I strangle you before you learn not to touch what’s mine?” he snarled.

Chapter 5

Loss

Three people manhandled Spike’s body into a waiting black van. Two of them appeared abnormally strong for their slight build. They were dressed in black, with black ski masks pulled over their faces but once they were all inside these were swiftly removed, revealing that the two with the unusual strength were mere girls. The third person, a young man, rapped sharply on the dividing panel to let the driver know they were safely stowed and the van pulled away.

“Where to now?” Fair-haired girl asked.

“We have a safe house near here, where we should be...safe.” The young man tailed off slightly, aware that he’d started strong but the ending was weak.

“Do you think he’ll come looking for us?”

“I don’t know. But have no fear the evil vampyre cannot win. We have right on our side.”

The dark haired girl pulled a face. “When has that ever helped us before?” she asked.

She’d already seen action. Not all of it successful.

“Ah yes, but we now have the vampyre hero. Our inspiration, our secret weapon.”

Neither girl had anything to say to this. They had all heard Andrew’s stories about ‘Spike, the warrior vampyre’, who took on gods and won. If even half the stories were true then he would be a formidable ally. They looked on this sleeping legend with respect.

After a short journey they pulled into a garage. Spike was on an ambulance style trestle bed, so this time they picked up the bed instead of manoeuvring Spike around bodily. They wheeled him into the house, where Giles greeted them and directed them to a specially prepared basement.

“Yes. That’s fine. Just put him over there will you.”

For the first time they were finally able to take a proper look at the prone figure they had rescued. He appeared pale even for a vampire and the wound in his neck stood out viciously against the pallor of his skin.

“The fiend was draining him dry. I had to drag him away or I swear he’d be dead.” Said Fair-haired

“Really Erica, I don’t believe vampires can be destroyed by blood loss. In fact I have the distinct memory of Spike himself saying that vampires who don’t feed become living skeletons.”

However, this did not seem to offer quite the reassuring note he was aiming for. The others seemed more horrified at this than at the thought of death.

Andrew’s eyes began to prick with tears. He knelt next to the bed and laid his hand on the unmoving chest saying softly, “I would follow you, my brother, my captain, my king.”

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The boy meant well but he was a romantic, with an unhealthy dose of hero worship for the blonde vampire. Unfortunately, he was also infecting the slayers with it. Giles wanted to yell at them ‘For Godsake, it’s only Spike.” In fact, he actually wished Xander were here to help give a bit of balance. Never mind. One works with the tools one is given.

***

“You’ve got one chance, traitor. Tell me what you’ve done with him.”

Wesley let out a choking sound and Angel loosened his grip slightly to allow him to speak.

“I...I don’t know where he is.”

“Uh. Uh. Wrong answer.” He allowed his face to change and let his canines trail lightly down one side of the neck, leaving a thin line of blood. This seemed to bring out some deep reserves of courage within Wesley. He was not going to plead or beg or cry. Seeing Angel like this he was more convinced than ever that he had done the right thing.

“Stop this foolishness!” Wesley rasped fiercely.

“There’s only one way to stop this. Tell me where he is.”

“In that case, just do it.” His voice was cold and determined and he lifted his head to bare his throat. “Because I’ll never tell you.”

“So you have a backbone? Now’s not the time to grow one...maybe, I should rip it out. What do you think?”

“It doesn’t matter how you threaten me. I won’t let you hurt Spike again.”

“Hurt? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play this game, Angel.”

Suddenly a sharp voice cut through their fight.

“Move away from Wesley!”

Fred was standing there her eyes fierce and her face determined.

“Fred! Run!” Wesley urged, a note of panic entering his voice.

“Go away, Fred. It’s not your concern.” Angel said grimly.

“Yes. It is.” She produced something from behind her back. A gun.

Angel laughed quietly.

“You should know better than that!” He thought for a second, carefully evaluating her, “You do know better than that...what’s with the gun, Fred? Does it fire little wooden stakes?”

Her hand was shaking.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Fred. You know you don’t want to hurt me. Just drop it.” He moved towards her, allowing his human visage to appear. His hands were half raised, indicating that he had no weapon, which was hardly reassuring since he had more naturally inherent armament available to him.

There was a movement behind her and Gunn was at her side, backing her up, a stake-loaded crossbow in hand.

“Perhaps she can’t bring herself to hurt you. How about me? Do you think I wouldn’t? Vampire.”

And this was pure, old Gunn, the one that lost his only sister to vampires. Angel turned his attention to Gunn. When. Whack! There was a flash of pain across his jaw. He twisted back towards Wesley in anger.

“No!” Fred shouted and fired the gun. Angel looked down in disbelief at the tiny tranquillizer dart and raised accusing eyes to her, before falling unconscious for the second time that night.

“What do we do with him now?” asked Gunn.

“Whatever it is we’d better hurry. He’s not going to stay down for long.” Fred replied,

“Right. Gunn, help me take him up to his room. Fred in my office you’ll find some handcuffs and chains will you bring them, please. Their strength has been enhanced, I...I felt that I should be prepared. And thank you.” He looked at Fred. “You were incredible. You were both incredible.”

Fred gave him a hug, saying, “Thank God you’re alright. For a second there I thought I was going to lose you”

She stroked a hand through his hair, then quickly disentangled herself and turned back into the building.

“What are friends for if not to turn up in the nick of time and throw themselves recklessly at crazy vamps?” Gun asked with his quirky grin.

“He’s not crazy. He’s grieving. And how did you manage to arrive so promptly?”

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you. Fred was with you the other night when Spike asked for help. She thought she’d misheard, but you acted all weirded out and secretive, so she brought me in on it. We’ve had someone watching you ever since. Next time do us a favour and just tell us. You trust us don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I do. I also knew how Angel would react. I didn’t want you or Fred getting hurt so I didn’t involve you. Fat lot of good it did me. Seriously though, I am very grateful. He’d never have forgiven himself if he’d killed me.”

“’Never have forgiven himself’? You are one strange guy. As for the rescue? No problem. You’d do the same for me if I was in trouble.”

“Still. Thank you.”

***

Giles considered the sleeping vampire with very mixed feelings. Quite simply, he didn’t know how to react to this development. When Andrew had told him of the vampire’s return he had been, at first, incredulous, Andrew tended to view the world in his own unique way. But the slayers had confirmed the sighting, when Spike had been carried away, sans hands. Or to be more accurate hands next to him in an ice box.

One of the problems Giles was wrestling with was that Spike had been brought back from the dead and nobody had any idea who did it or why. When he had sacrificed himself to save the world Giles had finally accepted that he was good. But one couldn’t necessarily assume he was still on their side, people had a habit of coming back from the dead twisted or changed in someway. This made him an unknown quantity. Wesley said he fought for the forces of good but, in Giles opinion, the younger man’s judgement was seriously lacking. He was compromised as an independent source of information...he was far too familiar and trusting of Angel and had obviously expanded this goodwill to include Spike. Besides which, he now worked for Wolfram and Hart, who could well have their own agenda in all this. Personally, Giles could not bring himself to fully trust any of them. He couldn’t afford to, there were too many people who looked to him and so many ways he could get it wrong.

However, one thing he was sure about was that Spike had been the focus of much attention. The power required to bring him back, with both soul and demon intact, left him flabbergasted. It must be an indication that, for good or bad, Spike still had an important role to play and he’d rather have Spike here, under his nose, where he could maybe exert some influence on him.

Another consideration was their lack of knowledgeable advisors and teachers since the attack on the Council’s headquarters. If Spike stayed he would be invaluable in training the slayers. Weighing up the pros and cons Giles had to admit the benefits of having Spike with them were immense. The new slayers needed practical experience against a vampire of his calibre. Although, he wouldn’t be up for much until he’d fed and healed. Giles wondered what on earth had caused Angel to turn on the younger vampire in such a manner. There again, he had spent some considerable time in close proximity to this irritating demon and he could almost understand Angel’s action. After all, he himself had once been complicit in trying to arrange Spike’s final demise. That, of course, had been under entirely different circumstances. However, Giles still felt uneasy about his part in it. But all one can do is what one believes is right at the time.

He hoped Spike would also see it that way.

Giles could recall when Spike first became ‘chipped’ and the vampire’s dismay when he realised that he was unable to hurt living things. At that moment, Giles had a premonition that this punk vampire would turn out to be important. He’d tried to reassure Spike that it hadn’t been random bad luck (good luck from the Scoobies’ point of view, of course) but had purpose behind it. Spike had merely scoffed at the idea in his normal infuriating manner. Giles had given up on Spike at that point. Now he had been proven right in the most inconvenient manner. Or possibly convenient, Giles withheld judgement.

The contradictory emotions he felt when gazing on Spike’s familiar form were confusing but he had the typical English person’s distrust of self- analysis. He was also tired and there was too much he couldn’t bring himself to think about at the moment. Even so, a traitorous thought slipped into his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone, ‘Buffy’.

Currently Buffy didn’t know that Spike was back, but for how long? There were two teenage girls in the house and soon Spike could be training and working with other slayers. One thing these slayers had in common with every other teenage girl was their ability to gossip. Despite what he or Spike might want, he had no doubt that it would end up out of their hands.

Another thing that niggled at him - the only males the slayers currently associated with, within their elite group, were himself and Andrew. He looked at Spike’s face, innocent and reposed in sleep and his slim, muscled body and had an awful feeling that Spike’s appearance would hit them like a bombshell.

***

Angel found it difficult to move. He opened his eyes and found his hand and feet had been tightly shackled. Then it all came back to him as he focused on the human in front of him.

“You took him. If you’ve hurt him I’ll...” He strained violently against his bonds and collapsed back when they refused to give.

“You’ll what?” Wesley snapped back and then ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed at himself for his flash of temper. “Of course I didn’t hurt him, Angel. I did it for the best.”

“You always do. Did you find a prophecy? Were you waiting for the sign that I was about to destroy him?”

“Waiting? I already had the sign.”

“You say that like it means something but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were keeping him helpless, Angel.”

“I was not keeping him helpless! I was keeping him...I was keeping him. I did it for the best.”

“Whose best?”

“Everyone’s. Mine. His. It was just getting better and then you...you had no right!”

“I had every right. He begged me to help him.”

“I don’t believe you.” Angel muttered, “He was happy!”

“When we all came to visit, that night he asked me to help him. He was afraid of you Angel. Can you deny that?”

“We talked, we were over that!”

“You think one little chat makes everything miraculously right?”

“Yes. He trusted me. I said I’d look after him and you stole him.”

“So he trusted you. And what? He asked you to take his memories away again?”

Angel said nothing.

“I take it that means Spike voiced an objection?”

Again, no answer.

“So you have nothing to say about Spike. Tell me instead about Cordelia, who gave you ‘the gift of her last day’ to try and set you on the right path.”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“When you betray her memory, she becomes part of it. What do you think she would say?”

Angel shut his eyes to escape for a few seconds, he felt so incredibly tired. It had gone from perfect to...this, in such a short space of time. Except...who was he fooling? It had not been perfect it had been something temporary and artificial that he’d forced on to his childe. If Spike had been anything close to resembling his normal self, he would never have allowed the intimacy of the blood exchange.

Wesley sighed.

“Just talk to me, Angel. If you would just talk to me, instead of leaping straight into action, things would be so much easier.”

Angel was stung into answering.

“You say that too me! Why didn’t you talk to me? You just assumed...you’re always so quick to mistrust me.”

“I wanted to trust you! The first time you did it I it put down as an accident but to do it twice...I don’t think there is anything you could say to convince me that you had his best intentions at heart.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Probably not. But you could always try me.”

“We’re vampires.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

“You know it but you don’t understand it. We still have demons inside us...it makes us...different. I fight it, we both did but there are certain things we need.”

“Power and violence. I’m not totally ignorant of these things.”

“I was talking about family and love.”

“Oh. Well, how would I know these things if you refuse to share them? It’s certainly not covered in the Watchers’ Diaries.”

“Why should it be? All you need to know is how to kill us. But you, Wesley, are unique. You keep discovering new methods with which to destroy me.” The defeated vampire said bitterly

“I’m not a mind reader, Angel. If you neglect to tell me certain things, you can hardly cast blame when misunderstandings occur. If you want me to help you, then explain to me, make me understand.”

“You want to know? Then understand this, demons are possessive and protective. When everything else is stripped away, you are ‘my’ humans and Spike is ‘my’ childe and if anything of mine is threatened my instinct is to take the aggressor apart piece by piece.”

Wesley didn’t react to being claimed in this manner, he already suspected how Angel thought of them. However, Spike...

“Spike is your childe? I thought Drusilla...”

“She turned him but she couldn’t teach him or train him or protect him. It was down to me. I became his Sire and took on all the responsibilities of Sire. I was held accountable for him therefore he was my childe. He is my childe.”

“You weren’t jealous that she chose another male companion?”

“No. I never considered it in that light. She brought him home and presented him to me like a gift, all shiny and new. Darla was away and I was happy to have a male companion, a sane companion. He was mine right from the start, he just never realised it.”

“So what happened next? When did he start to realise he was bound to you?”

Angel wasn’t sure if he really wanted to tell this story but nothing seemed to matter. Tell or not tell? Who really cared about things that happened in another world and another time?

“He didn’t understand how things were. I accepted him from the beginning, told him he was my companion, my friend. William seemed grateful and Angelus...I mean, ‘I’, thought he understood the implication. But nothing was ever easy with Will. One night I invited him to join me on a hunt and he refused. He thought it would please Dru if he joined her, so he abandoned me. He didn’t understand that his first duty should be to me.”

“I ordered the carriage to turn immediately for home, he was on foot, so I arrived first. Dru was overjoyed that her Daddy had returned early, just for her. She was so happy nothing could have torn her from my arms that night. When William returned, he walked in on us, as I’d planned. He was devastated, accused me of betraying him. He tried to command Dru but she obeyed only me. He attacked me. He thought he’d lost everything that night, my friendship and Dru’s affection. I beat him easily and played my master card. I offered him Dru, whilst never releasing her from my arms. He realised that if he wanted her, he had to come through me, everything would be on my terms. He couldn’t walk away from us. Like all vampires, he needed his family, he thought that would be Dru, instead it became Angelus. It became me.”

Wesley said nothing.

“Are you shocked?”

“Truthfully? Yes. I don’t find this very reassuring, you trapped him...blackmailed him into accepting you. Is that what you’re trying to do now, weaken him so much that he just accepts you?” Wes asked his eyes troubled.

“No. And I wasn’t trying to reassure you, I was telling you how it was. How it still is, for both of us, because it works both ways. Yesterday Spike accused me of using him as a substitute for...someone else, accused me of thinking I owned him. But he owns me as much as I own him. I tried to tell him this but he wasn’t listening. Believe me, if Spike had left then, he would have spent the rest of his life trying to fill this hole, accepting compromises and substitutes but never finding what was missing, never even knowing what was missing. So I used the spell, one last attempt to make his see what was under his nose.“

“You of all people should know that it’s not always a question of right and wrong, but trying to balance different shades of wrong. I knew what followed might all be for nothing once he remembered everything but at least it would give us a starting point. It seemed worth the risk, so I said the word, he lost his memory and he accepted me back”

“He didn’t.”

“You weren’t there. I felt his contentment, his acceptance.”

“You misunderstand. I meant he didn’t lose his memory. I put a ward around the spell, it would alert me if you attempted to use it again but it wouldn’t actually work if you did try it.”

Angel had known there had been something different about Spike this time, the understanding he appeared to exhibit, which Angel had put down to wishful thinking on his part. His boy had taken him back! Spike knew the worst of him, his possessiveness, his lies, his need, and yet had accepted him, flaws and all. Had accepted him, accepted his blood and in turn bared his neck to Angel, re-opening the blood link between them. Angel would have kicked himself, if he hadn’t been so tightly manacled. He should of thought of their bond earlier. He reached towards it and managed to get a shadowy impression of Spike, he focused on it and then withdrew in shock. He remembered Spike saying that if he gave into love and Angel let him down, it would destroy him.

“You have to release me. I need to go to him. You have to tell me where he is!”

“I can’t. You’ve compromised too much of yourself for this. Your honesty. Your integrity. It reminds me of when Darla became human. You’ve become blinkered to everything except what you want to see. It’s not good, Angel. Not for you and nor for us. It makes you unpredictable.”

“You don’t understand, Wes. I can feel him! He let down all his defences and let me in. Now he thinks I’ve abandoned him again and it’s killing him.”

“I...don’t know what to say. You realise I don’t altogether trust you?” Wesley asked.

“I’ve told you the truth!” In fact he’d poured out everything that was in his heart. His brows contracted in suspicion, “Why have I told you so much? Is there some other magic at work besides the cuffs? What have you done to me?”

“I haven’t ‘done’ anything. Fred said it would be a side effect of the tranquillizer – it would loosen you up, make you talkative.”

Angel thought back on everything he said and could only be grateful that at least he had managed not to reveal anything about Connor. Just Spike.

“Will you tell me where he is? Please. He needs me.”

Wesley was deep in thought and then appeared to come to a decision. He nodded at Angel.

“I am not at all reconciled with what you did to Spike but I will telephone my contact. We’ll ask Spike and if he wishes to return or wishes to see you then I’ll help you.”

“Thank you, Wes.”

“I don’t want your thanks. I’m doing this for Spike.”

***

Spike awoke and looked around in confusion.

He could feel something at the very edge of his sensory perception. Possibly a noise like metal grating on metal at high speed, or maybe a smell, nettles and bitter herbs. Whatever it was he found it vaguely distressing.

The last he remembered was falling asleep in his Sire’s arms, happy and sated. The healing properties of Sire blood working its magic on his hands as he felt his fingers tingle with returning feeling. Now, he was lying in a dark basement on a hard bed, feeling confused and disorientated. He didn’t have a clue what was happening but the feeling of abandonment and loss felt too familiar. He tried to focus logically on what had happened.

One: His sire had unsuccessfully tried to put the memory whammy on him again.

Two: Angel had knocked him out cold with the blood-drinking thing and.

Three: Here he was, alone.

He began to get a cold feeling in his stomach. He remembered his instinctive not to trust Angel. This now gnawed at him. The more he dwelt on it the more convinced he became that Angel was playing some game, toying with him, gaining his trust and betraying him. These thought battered him like physical blows. He took his hurt and turned it into anger, He really felt like killing something, maybe himself or preferably something about 6’ 1” in height, brown puppy dog eyes and really stupid hair.

He heard the door and could clearly see two men walking towards him...or one man and one boy.

“Spike, you’re awake! How are you?” The boy asked.

“Uh. Alright.” he replied noncommittally.

“Oh. You don’t remember me? We’re friends, almost partners...well, we’ve worked together. I was there the night that slayer cut off your hands.” He raised his eyes as though thinking through something complicated, “Well not exactly there, in the room with you because, I was sort of unconscious at the time and you left me to chase after her, which, you know, is fine. You have to put duty before friendship, I mean it’s what makes you a hero, after all. It reminds me of...”

Didn’t humans have to breathe? He sent the older man a pleading look, who thankfully seemed to understand and cut the boy short.

“Ahem. I think Spike is probably wondering how he came to be here? Aren’t you?”

Spike nodded.

“We rescued you.” The boy said waiting from approval.

“Yeah? From what?”

“That fiend. He was trying to turn you into a living skeleton!”

The boy was obviously crazy. Spike looked again towards the older man for a slightly more sane explanation.

“Yes. Well. In essence Andrew is correct. Wesley contacted us regarding your plight and when Angel attempted the spell again we knew you were no longer safe. We came for you last night and he, apparently, was draining you whilst you slept.”

His murderous intentions receded as was suffused by a familiar feeling. Yeah, he definitely recognised this one. It was called ‘Spike cocks up again.’ He had asked for help and he’d never got a chance to let Wesley know that he was ok after all, so the man had sent these people to ‘rescue’ him. Then he wondered why Angel hadn’t stopped them.

“Is Angel ok?”

Giles had talked with Wesley earlier. Angel was upset but not physically hurt.

“He’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Spike was frowning.

“So you came for me and he just let me go.”

“Umm, more or less.” Andrew replied, thinking of Angel knocked out by the first blow.

“He certainly didn’t put up any significant objections.” He grinned in what he thought was a cold and deadly Tarantino-esque manner. Spike wondered if he was troubled by wind.

“Uh huh. So he didn’t try to persuade you to let me stay?”

“Not a word of protest.” Andrew replied. He sensed Spike’s concern for the older vampire and was reluctant to admit outright how they had dealt with him. Thus his answers were carefully considered and, like a politician, he ensured he answered honestly, whist remaining economical with the truth.

“And you’re sure he’s ok?”

Giles attempted to reassure him.

“I spoke to Wesley only this morning and Angel is fine.”

Spike didn’t look reassured, he looked a little sad.

“Oh.” What a surprise. All that talk about looking after him and never letting him go was just that. Talk.

“So you rescued me. Thanks. Yeah. And let that be a lesson, never trust a fat vampire with foofy hair.”

Andrew was looking confused at the twists and turns of this conversation. Giles appeared to understand more than he was admitting. From the look on Spike’s face the ‘rescue’ had been an unwanted intrusion, which could work out in their favour. He wrestled with his conscience and found he couldn’t deceive this miserable vampire.

“He wants to speak to you.”

“No.”

“It’s entirely up to you but he would like you to return.”

“What am I? A sodding boomerang? He throws me away and then waits for me to come racing back? What is it with him?”

“You could always talk to him and find out.” Giles said reasonably.

“Giles, I don’t think you should pressurise him. Why should he talk? Angel is nothing to him. Well, I suppose he is a sort of a relative, like a grandfather or should that be ‘grandsire’ or something...and they do go way back and...”

“Andrew, do be quiet. Spike, we would like you to stay here, to be frank, we need you. We could give you back a purpose, perhaps even a reason for continuing.”

“So you’re offering me...what? What do you do here? What would you expect from me? Because I don’t make tea and I don’t do phones.”

“I assure you we have a suitable job for someone of your talents. But it’s rather complicated to explain.”

“People seem to be saying that to me quite a lot recently.”

“Yes. Well. This would be so much easier if you could remember. However, I shall give you the potted version, if you don’t mind?”

Spike nodded.

“Recently, to help save the world, we empowered many young women with above human strength and endurance. Previously, there was one in each generation with the power, whose duty it was to fight the vampires and demons. Now there are many. These girls are called slayers. They don’t just inherit increased strength, speed and agility. They also have some psychic ability. Many are afflicted with violent images of past slayers. Others have premonitions, slight visionary powers. It’s all very disturbing for them.”

“We are attempting to trace all these slayers and train them, guide them and, where they are willing, set them against the evil demons and monsters of the world. We need someone who can teach them but also has the strength to control them, where necessary. Occasionally these slayers go bad. Your hands...that atrocity was committed by a mentally unstable slayer, so I can understand if you would rather not deal with them. However, you are already regarded as something of a hero, so you have an advantage. They already respect you and fear you.”

“Fear?”

“You have been evil for many years. In the past you killed two slayers. Many of these modern day slayers have had your image seared in their brain by these slayer memories that come to them.”

“Oh. Don’t you think this might be a slight problem?”

“I have to admit, I really don’t know. William the Bloody reformed? On the whole I think they regard you in the light of a miracle.”

“Is that who I am?”

“No, not really. I don’t think you’ve been him for years. Maybe you haven’t quite found out who you are yet and maybe this is the place to find out. Will you stay? You’re very much needed. What have you got if you go back?”

“I don’t know.” Spike replied quietly.

“Well perhaps you should talk to him and find out.”

Spike looked at him in suspicion.

“Why do you want me to talk to him?”

“I know you probably find this strange coming from me, but this time I am doing my best to play fair with you, Spike. Even if it is to the detriment of my own work.”

“I see. We didn’t part the best of friends, I take it?”

“I met you when you were one of the most feared vampires in the annals of history. Things happened and I found trust doesn’t come easily to me.”

“Huh. Did I have any friends at all?”

Andrew stepped forward clearing his throat.

“I would like to think that we became, if not friends then certainly comrades, brothers-in-arm with mutual respect of each other’s abilities. We learnt from one another. For instance, although you’re not tall, you’re kind of menacing and did you notice I now have a really cool coat just like yours?”

Spike regarded him with incomprehension and then sent Giles a bewildered look, clearly begging for some sort of translation.

“What did he say?”

But Giles had already turned away, shaking his head and muttering, “Good grief.”

Spike knew the feeling.

“I was just saying. I’m your friend...if you want?”

“Oh. Cheers. ” Spike replied trying to keep the shades of doubt out of his voice and when the boy began to grin inanely he guessed he’d succeeded.

Giles determinedly brought the conversation back on track.

“Anyway Spike you don’t have to make an immediate decision about anything but if you do with to talk to Angel just say the word. Meanwhile, have you got any more questions we can help with?”

“Yeah. What is that noise? And can you make it stop?”

“Noise? I can’t hear anything.” Andrew said and looked to Giles to back him up.

“No. I’m afraid I can’t hear it either. But it’s not surprising. Your hearing is much more sensitive than ours.”

They retreated to give him time to consider his next action. However, he could hear their conversation. Andrew was saying that they needed him and mustn’t let him go. Giles replied that if Spike were to work with them it would be, knowing all the facts and of his own free will. He pointed out to Andrew that they were not evil.

Spike gave it some careful thought. He recalled all he could about Angel, Connor, Wolfram and Hart, Wesley, Gunn and Fred until he had it clear in his mind.

He called to the two humans, “Ok I’ll speak to him.”

***

After Wesley’s assurance that he would contact Spike, Angel became calmer and was finally able to convince them that he was no longer out for their blood. Even so, they each had crosses and holy water hidden discreetly, and not so discreetly, about their person, as they nervously unlocked the shackles.

Wesley was as good as his word. Later that morning he had some good news.

“Angel. The phone. It’s him.”

Angel took it, trying to hide his apprehension.

“Hi.”

Spike sounded muted, contained.

“Hello? Spike? Thank God it’s you! Are you alright?”

“Yeah. You?”

“What do you think? Look. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and pick you up.”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“Because this is where you belong, of course!”

“Yesterday you let them take me away and today you want me back. You always this indecisive, mate?”

“I didn’t exactly ‘let them’.”

“Didn’t object much, I hear.”

“Object? They knocked me out cold. When I came around you were gone. I think I went a little insane.”

“Oh. You didn’t hurt any of them, did you?”

Silence.

“Angel? They’re ok? Wesley is ok, yeah?”

“Yes. Fred and Gunn managed to stop me. Spike? Let me bring you home.”

“Tell me, what would I do there?”

“Do?”

“Uh huh.”

“You’d do the same as before - save people. You have...oh.”

“What?”

“You used to have a seer, you know a contact with higher powers and they would direct you whoever needed rescuing. But...”

“For Chrissake! Will you just tell me?”

Angel sighed and continued.

“It wasn’t real. It was all an intricate conspiracy to get to me.”

“So, I ask again what would I do there?”

“You could work for Wolfram and Hart.”

“Aren’t they the evil law firm that suckered you in, using Connor as bait?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you want me trapped there too? You make tasty bait, Sire. But I’m not biting.”

“I...you don’t have to do anything.”

“So. I can return and I could hang around the apartment each day. Doing what? Waiting for you to come home?”

Spike took a breath and continued.

“Or I could stay here.

“Stay there? Where are you?”

“Where I’m wanted and needed. Where I have a reason for existence.”

Angel remembered Lawson, going insane from his lack of a mission and knew he had no argument against this. Spike needed a purpose to his life and would need it even more once he fully regained his memories. He could feel his childe slipping away from him again.

“I love you, Spike.”

This was the only argument he had left.

“Maybe that’s part of the problem.”

“How can it be? It’s the only thing that’s right!”

“Don’t you see, Angel? You’re trying so hard to do what’s right. I don’t believe you sold your soul when you joined Satan & Partners, but you’ve mortgaged it and they’re going to try to whittle away at it until you’ve got none of it left to cling to. You’re selling it in dribs and drabs with a lie, a broken promise, with magic to manipulate people, with an attempt to murder Wesley. The tragic thing is that it’s never about purely personal gain and it’s going to be your downfall. You give away too much for the people you love. I refuse to be part of that, Angel. I won’t watch you destroy yourself cus you think you can make things right for me.”

Angel remembered Cordy saying almost the exact same thing to him. These were both people he trusted, each with a clear sense of morality. Whereas his view tended to be skewed, with the people he loved first, the people who hurt those he loved undergoing every torture of hell and somewhere in the middle was the rest of the world.

He was defeated on all counts. Whichever way he turned the answer was always the same.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t disappear. Keep in touch. Please?”

Spike felt tears prick his eyelids as he whispered, “Yeah.”

And hung up.

Author’s Note: Firstly, thanks for the kind reviews and comments, they keep me on the ball and motivated. Although I have the story virtually complete as far as plot is concerned I’m always happy when someone gets me thinking about it in a slightly different way - it usually results in some amendments. In answer to one particular query: no not slash, I wanted to keep it fairly innocent and I would have had the grace to warn you in the story summary (not that I have anything against m/m or f/f relationships). Finally the stories are unbeta’d so if you spot errors I’m really grateful when you let me know. Cheers. xxx

Chapter 6

Surprise

A few days later Spike had telephoned Angel. His memory seemed to be returning but in a haphazard way. He sounded ok but Angel could feel his distress. He continued to probe until Spike admitted that the nightmares had started again.

“I’m sorry Spike. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Yeah, I know. How do you cope with it?”

“You know me. Brood a bit. Fight the good fight. I don’t know really, just after a hundred years you get used to it, I guess.”

“I don’t have a hundred years.”

Angel felt an icy grip around his heart.

“What do you mean? You have all the time in the world ahead of you. There’s nothing wrong is there? You’re ok?”

“Hey, Peaches. Less of the panic, yeah? I’m just saying that I need to be out there and at the top of my game. I have people depending on me.”

“Are they sending you out to fight already? Are you sure you’re fit enough?”

“Won’t know until I try.”

“Just try not to put yourself in too much danger.”

Spike snorted.

“What?”

“They won’t let me sodding fight!”

Angel couldn’t help grinning, the younger vampire sounded so outraged.

“No? What happened?”

“A group of slayers were going to clear out a nest of vamps, I thought I could go along and help out, you know? Keep my hand in?”

“Uh huh. Seems a bit too soon to me. You must only just have got back on your feet.”

“I was fine and you know how I get. Sort of restless and antsy.”

“So you bullied them into letting you go?”

“Yeah. I was looking forward to it as well, a good fight...I mean doing good and if I happen to get in a spot of violence before bedtime...well you know how it is.”

“So what happened?”

“They formed a bloody honour guard, surrounded me and killed anything that came within six feet of me!”

Angle tried to smother a laugh.

“And it is not sodding funny! Every time I went for a vamp one of the bloody bint’s got in my way and got them first.”

“Hey I’m sorry.” Angel commiserated sounding anything but sorry. They shouldn’t have let him go in the first place.

“Yeah well, all I could do was light up a fag and watch their style, or I would have, if they’d had any. If these are the best I can understand why they need me.”

“So is that what you’re doing? Training slayers?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded uncertain, as though he wanted approval.

“You’re right they’re going to need someone like you. You’ll make a real difference.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I do. Anyway, is there somewhere I can reach you if I need y...to get in touch?”

Spike hesitated.

“They’re not keen on me giving out details of their operations. If you need to get hold of me Wes will be able to reach me.”

“Oh.”

“How are things there? Are you all right? Are the gang ok?”

“We’re all fine. You know...not as it was, but we’re ok. I...we all miss you.”

“We’ll have to meet up. Once I’m a bit more settled.”

“OK. Thanks for calling and if you need anything...”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, see you around.”

“Uh huh and better luck with your next fighting thing.”

Another disgruntled snort and he was gone.

Letting him out to fight this early with only untrained slayers protecting him. Sheer stupidity. He tested the bond again and could feel a slight directional tug to it. He was on a mission; he was going to find his childe.

Spike hung up the phone. He’d finally remembered what that damned noise was. The exchange of blood had resulted in Angel and himself bonding again. The whining/bitter noise/taste had been his interpretation of his sire’s misery. He was glad he’d made the call. That awful feeling of despair had receded to something slightly more tolerable.

***

Spike threw himself into the training of slayers with unexpected gusto. In the past Giles had always assumed that any good deeds on Spike part were always linked to an attempt to seduce Buffy, yet there was no such motivation here. Now that he no longer had to hover protectively over the children Giles was slowly discovering that he was beginning to like the English vampire.

It had all begun one night when he had heard noises from Spike’s basement room. It almost sounded like whimpering. After some consideration he had decided to check on Spike. To find him asleep and within the throes of some tormented nightmare. He’d been hesitant about waking the vampire for fear that he might, under some stimulus from the dream, attempt to attack him. He’d compromised and kept his distance whilst sharply calling for him to wake up. Spike had awoken with a start and instead of attacking had leapt from the bed and cowered in a corner of the room.

Giles had looked on in astonishment, whilst Spike gradually became aware of who was there.

“Oh. Its you.”

He’d immediately begun to cover up, attack always being the best form of defence with Spike.

“What are you doing here, in my room, in the middle of the night? If you want to get your hands on this hot, tight body you have to give a man a clue first, not just burst in on him.”

“Spike.”

“I mean its just not cricket, is it?” He rambled as he wrapped himself back in the bedclothes.

“I always had my suspicions about you. Public school being what it is.”

“Spike!”

“Yeah?”

“What’s the matter?”

“What do you care?”

“If it affects my slayers, I care. If this is happening to you every night you’re not going to be fit to care for them.”

Spike melted back into his pillows.

“I know. Don’t know what to do though.”

Giles sat on the foot of the bed.

“I think you should begin by telling me what’s happening.”

“Did Wesley tell you why they removed my memories to start with?”

“Yes. Oh. I see. The people you killed...your victims...”

“Yeah.”

“Does this only happen at night?”

“Sort of. During the day I can push them to one side. I can’t let them interfere with the work I’m doing.”

“Maybe you need to remember them when you’re awake.”

“I don’t think so! Bad enough when I’m trying to sleep.”

“Spike...”

“Giles. When you have murdered innocents then may be I’ll take your advice.”

“I have.”

“Really? Who? Why?”

“You remember Ben?”

“How could I forget. ‘Ben is Glory, Glory is Ben”. I said those words so frigging often, one day they’ll cut open my head and find those words burnt on to my brain.”

“Glory was defeated and Ben was lying there on the tower. I had to remove any possibility of her coming back, so I killed him.”

“That was different. You had no choice.”

“I felt I had no choice but he was still innocent.”

“Not that innocent, he chose himself over the Bit. Still, I suppose that gives you the right. Go on, tell me again what your advice would be.”

“It’s just that everyone dies, from the moment we’re born we owe nature a death. In the end there is nothing the living can do for the dead but remember them as truthfully and as faithfully as possible.”

“Go on.”

“Some of your victims were killed so long ago, there is nobody left to remember. Only you. So stop denying them. They were more than victims. They were people. You must remember more about them than how you tortured them and how they screamed...some clue as to who they were, what sort of people they were?”

Spike slowly nodded.

“The blood gives up secrets as you drink, you get some images, sometimes just feelings...”

“Really? So when these thoughts intrude on you during the day, don’t shut them out. Let them come. Give them their due and remember them as people.”

“You want me to sit and brood every day?”

“Yes, I see your point. But Angel has had a long time to come to terms with what he has done. You’re not stupid, learn from him.”

“I am not going to brood! I’ll just have some quiet thinking time each day.”

“Exactly.”

“Never thought I’d be thanking you for anything.”

“Don’t worry, you haven’t.”

Spike brightened.

“No I haven’t, have I? Cheers Rupes.”

Giles let out a genuinely amused smile.

“Go to sleep Spike.”

“Uh huh. G’night.”

“I’ll see you and your hot, tight body tomorrow.”

“Rupert!”

***

Life at Wolfram and Hart continued. As Angel had said it wasn’t quite the same as before. Previously they had been hopeful that they were taking on evil from the belly of the beast. Now it appeared they weren’t even giving the beast indigestion. They realised this might be a fight they could lose because it was becoming so damned tricky to tell right from wrong.

Part of Wesley thought, ‘power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely” and Angel’s treatment of Spike seemed evidence of this. But another part thought maybe Angel had been doing the right thing. The place wasn’t the same without the bleached one’s wicked sense of humour, constant chat and occasional insight.

Gunn was having his own problems. His memory implant was definitely slipping. He was still managing but if it got any worse he’d be unable to cover up any longer. The information he had access to had helped hundreds of people, surely he had the duty to protect this gift? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know. He liked who he was now, he liked being smart and he knew this warped his judgement.

Fred had become nervous around Angel, which was hardly surprising. He had always been a hero to her. He still was. Just not as dependable and trustworthy as she had once thought. She missed Spike, they had been friends and despite his volatility he had been a surprisingly steadying influence on them all, with his well-timed comments and ability to see things as they were. Personally she thought Spike’s decision was wrong. Angel had explained it to them. There were two main reasons he refused to return: Spike thought that he had a bad effect on Angel and; he needed a purpose, which they were unable to provide.

The fact that Spike refused to work for Wolfram and Hart had hit them all. It threw their own decision to take up employment there in stark relief. That was something that Fred could not fix, but she truly believed that Spike was wrong about his effect on Angel. Their CEO seemed so lost these days. Even when they had only sniped at each other constantly, Spike had brought balance, he questioned Angel if he was overlooking something or in danger of doing something stupid. Not so much ‘questioned’ but called him a ‘stupid wanker’ and go storming out. Alternatively, he would confirm a decision, more likely than not picking up the heaviest axe he could find and asking them what they were waiting for.

Without this, Angel seemed more uncertain. Nothing was ever black and white anymore. The only thing that was good at the moment was her relationship with Wesley. She had the sense to make sure that Knox was in no doubt that there was nothing between them and now it was simply a matter of letting Wesley know exactly how she felt. She thought she had but, honestly, men could be remarkably dense sometimes. Even clever ones like Wesley.

Angel tried to keep focused and do a good job but he found that he envied Spike his simplicity of purpose. Train slayers and send them out into the world to fight evil. No grey areas there.

After his conversation with Spike he’d done a bit of shopping. He could understand Giles and his team not wanting to give out addresses or phone numbers but there was no way they could keep him from having contact with his childe. He knew Spike’s love of gadgets and actually did some research before hitting the mall. The things he did for his childe, even Cordy had never been able to get him to use one, never mind understand what they did. Now he was the proud owner of a neat little phone, with camera, flash, messaging and WAP facilities. Not only that, he was also reading up on how to use all the functions. Now all he had to do was remember to keep it charged and to carry it with him wherever he went. He neatly wrapped the other phone and asked Wesley to make sure Spike got it.

***

Spike received the gift with some surprise and a little trepidation. The only presents he’d ever received were from his Dark Princess and he’d learnt pretty quickly that he had better be damned careful when opening them. She had been particularly attracted to religious objects and icons. He’d literally had his fingers burnt more times than enough.

It was wrapped in brown paper and had a simple ‘To Spike’ written in Angel’s flowing handwriting. He realised that Giles was curious but he didn’t feel like sharing this moment. This was the first present his Sire had ever given him and he wanted to enjoy it in privacy. So he nodded at Giles and took it to his room.

He held it for a while and tested the weight. He held it to his face and sniffed it. He gave it a careful shake and it gave forth some satisfactory rattles. Then he carefully peeled back the sellotape until the paper came free in one sheet. He didn’t even glance at the present; instead he stared at the brown paper bearing his name, folded it and put it neatly to one side. Then he turned back to the box and took in his gift. All semblance of patience and calm were gone as he tore into the box.

Giles listened outside the door, just to make sure that there was nothing untoward about the gift. He had to assume that all was well after hearing, “Whoa! Fantastic!” Floating up from the room. He sounded like a kid. A really happy kid. Giles moved away to allow him to enjoy the moment without an eavesdropper.

Spike gave the instructions a cursory once over and then rang the number already input into the phone’s memory. It only rang once before it was answered.

“Hi Spike.”

Angel sounded so pleased with himself it made Spike laugh.

“Hey there.”

“You like?”

“Oh yeah. I like. I’ve sent you a gift.”

“Yeah?”

“On your phone. Take a look.”

“Just a minute.”

There was the sound of someone tapping away, a few bleeps and then the line went dead. Angel finally managed to retrieve a couple of photos. One was of Spike grinning like a loon. Another was obviously his room. He rang back.

“Uh, sorry about that. How come I’ve studied this thing all morning and still haven’t got the hang of it and you’ve had it...”

“About three minutes.”

“Three minutes and got it singing and dancing?”

“You’d be surprised at the things I can do, Pet.”

“Not anymore.”

“You’ve finally accepted I’m a complete genius, then?”

“If you want to believe that, who am I to disillusion you? You’re looking good by the way.”

“Yeah, back to my normal stunning self now.”

“Of all your qualities its your modesty that overwhelms me the most.”

“Knocks you out, does it?”

“No... that was Fred and her tranq gun.”

“Really! Good on her! Good girl that. Taught her everything thing she knows.”

“Except for the logarithms, fractal equations and algorithms.”

“I meant taught her all the important stuff. Sneaky attacks and what knocks out fat, angry vamps.”

“I’m not fat. I used to be out fighting every night when I worked at Angel Investigations. That sort of lifestyle soon piles on the muscle. And hey! You told her how to knock me out?”

“Well... your soul has always been rather pesky. Thought the kid should know how to defend herself. Didn’t hurt you did it?”

“It made me...talkative.”

“You being chatty? I’m surprised they didn’t drop down dead from the shock of it.”

“Yeah. Anyway, thank you. You know, for looking out for them.”

“Don’t let them know. But I like them.”

“Too late, think they already know.”

“Huh. What do you think of my digs?”

“They look a bit...dingy.”

“You’re talking to a person who’s main place of abode used be a crypt, luv. Just because you’re living the life of bloody Riley with your necro- tempered glass, swanky office, well appointed apartment, some truly stunning cars...uh...what was my point again? Oh yeah, this is luxury to some of us.”

“I could get some of that glass put in if you want?”

“I don’t think Giles would be keen if I started to make this place vampire friendly. Anyway, it always makes me a bit uneasy.”

“I know what you mean, it’s unnatural.”

“If you’re not keen why don’t you get rid of it?”

“I kind of thought it was cool. Makes a statement.”

“Yeah it says, ‘here’s a complacent vampire who’s going to make a mistake one day and fry himself’.”

“No chance of that. Every time I step in front of it I flinch in anticipation.”

“Hmmm. I have a basement room, with one small high window. It wouldn’t make that much difference here anyway/”

“Yeah, I see it.” Angel said looking at the photo again.

“What’s that thing in the corner?”

“An X-box.”

“I say again, what’s that thing in the corner?”

“Bloody hell, Angel. It’s a games console, its part of my rehabilitation, helps with my fingers and co-ordination. You need to keep up with the world more.”

“I can use a mobile phone!”

Spike smiled gently.

“Yeah, you’re doing well, Pet.”

“Call me if there’s anything. I’ll always have it with me.”

“I will. And thank you. It’s nice. You know...getting gifts.”

“Come back. I’ll buy you presents every day.”

“Subtle, Peaches, very subtle. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Are you patrolling tonight?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Oh well. Good luck.”

“Yeah. Bye then.”

“Bye, Spike.”

Angel was feeling very pleased with himself. Spike might sound cool but he knew that he’d been delighted with the present. He looked at the picture of Spike grinning out at him and said, “See you tonight then Spike.”

***

Spike began working with a small group of slayers with Andrew and Giles as onlookers.

“I watched you the first night we went out. Well done. You got the job done. But on the whole you were crap. You’re relying mainly on your speed, strength and instincts. All of which are important and makes you equivalent to the average fledge. Luckily that’s what you were dealing with the other night.”

They listened to him in respectful silence. It was unnerving, he was used to verbally sparring with the Scoobies and found that he missed it. Never mind, he had to think of this more as a vampire society, he was in charge and they obeyed.

“By the time I’m done you’ll be up to master vampire level. Right we’ll have some names. I’m Spike and this is Erica and Chris. He pointed at the two who had been involved in his ‘rescue’. Let’s hear from the rest of you. Blondie, you start.”

For the first time he allowed a group of strangers to name themselves instead of giving them nicknames that allowed him to distance himself from them.

He nodded at each of them. He had given some careful thought to how he was going to structure these classes.

“Ok. We’re going to start every morning with Tai Chi. It strengthens your musculature, improves your breathing, your posture, your balance and your blood flow. It also helps with your concentration. I don’t expect you to learn it all in a few weeks but we will add more positions everyday.”

After the first class Giles approached him.

“I never dreamt you knew Tai Chi. It doesn’t really seem your style.”

“Nah, it’s not. It’s the poof, he went in for all that tranquillity lark. Thought it might be a good way to start, get their blood flowing a little, then move on to some proper fighting skills and finally something like yoga, stretch their muscle and ligaments, improve their flexibility after all the hard exercise.”

“Really, I am surprised. In fact I would even say I’m impressed.”

“What did you think I was going to do? Have them chop through planks of woods with their heads?”

“Yes.”

“I was saving that for the next lesson.”

***

Angel went out as soon as he was dark, walking the streets and focusing on his blood link to Spike. He could feel it constantly but unless he was fairly close to the other vampire it wasn’t strong enough to be able to place him. Finally he felt it, a very definite tug. He felt like howling with joy. He took off down the street. Yes, there it was again. He took to the rooftops to prevent anyone spotting him.

He could just make out the strange little group. Spike, Giles and half a dozen teenaged girls. Angel finally relaxed for the first time since Spike had disappeared. He followed them carefully. Spike was talking. He seemed to be sending Giles and four of the slayers on ahead, whilst he and the other two girls ducked into a side alley. Looked like they had the building and were going for a two-pronged attack and covering both exits. Sound enough. He moved closer in case he was needed.

He froze, someone was threatening Spike with a knife, he scented the air. Human. He tensed up ready to fly in and help. One of the slayers had the same idea and had moved in for what could have been a killing blow had Spike not caught her hand. The sudden movement startled the man and he pressed the knife into Spike’s stomach, there was a faint scent of blood before Spike quickly managed to knock it away. The man made a run for it. He’d probably never meant to use the knife. One of the slayers started to run after him but before she could even blink she found an angry Spike standing in front of her. He was seething and Angel wouldn’t like to be in her shoes when this was finished.

Spike knocked the padlock off the back door and flung it open noisily. That must have been the sign for the others to burst through the front. The vampires inside were outnumbered and the fight was short and sharp with Spike mainly watching and stepping in when he was needed. Angel could see what he’d meant about their style. No wonder most slayers had such a short life expectancy if this was the general standard when they started.

“Are you alright, Spike?” Giles asked, noticing the flowering bloodstain.

“We got attacked out the back.” Explained one of the girls who had been with Spike.

“I’m fine but me and the girls are going to have a little talk.”

“Please, don’t mind me.” Giles said, curious as to the nature of this talk.

Spike nodded and gestured for the girls to gather around.

“Firstly. You do not hit humans. You are not vigilantes, you are not hooligans and you are not a bloody mob. You are slayers, you kill monsters. The police are there to deal with men like him.”

“But he held a knife to you!” Said the girl who had attempted hit the man.

“Do you think a knife would harm me or did you think I wouldn’t be able to disarm him harmlessly by myself. Hell even one of you could manage that. What makes you think I couldn’t?”

“I’m sorry.” The girl hung your head.

“Look. It’s for your own good. You kill things every day, that’s what you’re trained for, are you suddenly going to remember to reign in your strength just because it’s a human you’re dealing with? The rule is you don’t hit them unless you absolutely have to. I’m not seeing any of my slayers go bad cus they accidentally kill a human.”

“Are we your slayers then?” asked a dark haired slayer with a slight grin.

“Better believe it. Body and soul. No one hurts you except me.”

They all exchanged looks and little smiles.

“And secondly.” He had their attention again.

“When there’s a plan in place and everyone is depending on you, you DO NOT go scooting off to do your own thing, Christine.”

“I know. Sorry, Spike. It won’t happen again.”

“Be sure it doesn’t. Right that’s enough for tonight. I need to get out of this bloody shirt.”

“Umm. I have some bandages if you want me to deal with it?” said Blondie.

Giles stepped in.

“The bleeding seems to have stopped already. I’ll have a look at it when we get back.”

Angel carefully followed them. They returned to a black van. He made a call and gave hasty directions to his driver. His car arrived just as the van was pulling out of sight. He threw the driver out and raced after them, quickly catching up with them and then carefully hanging back. He tailed them until it finally pulled in at a nondescript house on the outskirts of the city. He sighed with relief. At least he knew where Spike was staying. He returned home feeling more cheerful than he had in a long time.

Angel got to his room just as his mobile started to ring.

“Hello? Spike?”

“Did you enjoy the show, mate.”

“I don’t know...”

“Angel, don’t even try.”

“Oh. You knew I was there? When did you realise?”

“When that bloody man turned up with a knife. The aggression was rolling off you in waves. I’m surprised the bints didn’t notice.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re not.”

“No. I’m not. I needed to make sure you were really ok and that your strength had returned.”

“So you happy now?”

“Well you didn’t really get a proper match but yeah I’m happy. Are you annoyed with me?”

“Nah. Not really.”

“I liked your lecture.”

“Shouldn’t have to give it. I mean honestly of all the bloody stupid things. What the hell is Giles teaching them?”

“Well, they’ve got you now.”

“Yeah. Are you going to be watching me again?”

“Probably.” Angel answered, which translated to ‘of course I’ll be frigging watching you’.

“Oh. Ok.”

“You don’t mind.”

“Nah. Just keep an eye open for the bints as well. They’re not as good as they think they are.”

“I would do anyway. You know if I happened to be there.”

“Yeah. Anyway, it’s been a long day.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

“G’night.”

***

The next few days passed quickly as the slayers settled into a routine, on the whole Giles was pleased how it was going. His contemplation was interrupted by Spike’s dulcet tones.

“Rupert! Where the bloody hell are you?”

Giles appeared looking slightly flustered.

“What is it? Is everything alright?”

“No. It’s not. I mean what the hell are you teaching these slayers?”

“I’d say, how to fight evil and live.”

“Well it’s not good enough.”

“I’m sorry, I’m at a loss...”

“I’m talking about morals, Rupert. Ethics.”

“I...what have they done now?”

“You heard about last night? When we went after that demon?”

“Umm. I heard you got it.”

“One of the little sods was deliberately torturing the thing. It was down and instead of going for the clean kill, she began slicing and dicing.”

“Well...”

“Well nothing!”

Giles sighed.

“What happened?”

“She was angry because it managed to get a good hit in, caught her a bruise across the face. I’d managed to injure it and she stepped in and bloody well started chopping pieces off it! When I told her to stop, she told me it was an evil monster and deserved it.”

“What did you say?”

“Told her that it might be an evil monster but she was not. Told her to kill it cleanly. She did. But they should know these things, shouldn’t they? They have souls after all.”

“Yes, of course they have souls but remember, they have been joined with a demon. It’s where they get their strength. Buffy used to manage it well enough but some don’t find it so easy. Look I’ll talk to them, we’ll include it as part of their training.”

“Yeah. It’s important. I told them they’re mine. I have to look after them, protect them. Even from themselves.”

Spike was hovering.

“Was there anything else?”

“Yeah...one of them came to my room last night.”

“Yes. Why?”

“Why the hell do you think? She was lonely and wanted a game of chess?”

“Oh. I see.”

“They’re children, Rupert. What the hell do they think they’re playing at?”

“Andrew told them about you and Buffy. They think it’s romantic.”

“Romantic? Yeah. Right. All bloody hearts and flowers, it was. Just teach them some morals and keep them out of my room, yeah?”

“When was I ever able to control my slayers. Just...lock your door!” Giles said crossly.

Spike gave an angry grunt and disappeared back to his room.

Giles made some tea and decided to phone Wesley.

“Mr Giles? I mean Rupert. Is everything alright?”

“No it’s not bloody alright. I’m being given lessons in morality by William the Bloody!” Giles complained

“Ah. He can be a little disconcerting sometimes.”

“Do you know? I sometimes think I preferred him without the soul.”

“I say. Surely not! Things can’t be that bad.”

“No, I suppose not. The thing is he’s right. It’s not just enough to teach these girls how to kill, is it? We have to reinforce their sense of right and wrong.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine. Buffy did well enough.”

“She had her mother and friends. At the moment these girls have Andrew, Spike and myself.”

“A pretty good substitute I’d say.”

“Wesley?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. You’re a good man.”

“No, I’m not. But I try.”

“If you need anything, call me.”

“Thank you, Rupert. I’ll take you up on that.” Giles felt much better after talking to his fellow Englishman. Perhaps, he was a person to trust after all. He sat back to enjoy his tea and think how to work in a little ethics to the slayers’ education. When suddenly the front door slammed open. A suitcase was wheeled through the door followed by...

“Buffy?”

“Hello, Giles.” Buffy replied.

Chapter 7

Choices

"So how have you been?" Buffy enquired brightly.

"Oh. I'm fine. This is a surprise. A pleasant surprise, I might add. You look well."

"Thank you Giles, but I've been travelling for over..." she looked at her watch, "sixteen hours and I look like Aileen Wuornos on a bad day."

Giles smiled.

"You just look a little tired that's all. Why don't you shower and I'll get a bed made up. I'm sure you'll be feeling jet lagged."

She tilted her head to one side, in a way that reminded Giles of Spike. He suddenly had the urge to be seated. Dear lord. Spike. And Buffy.

"Don't you want to know what I'm doing here?"

"Yes. Of course. Is there a problem?"

"I received a call a couple of days ago. Have you got anything to tell me?"

"Well naturally...we have a lot to catch up on." He removed his glasses and fiddled nervously with them. "You were telling me about a telephone call?"

"Yes, that's right. I was wasn't I?" She looked at Giles with clear hazel eyes.

"When were you going to tell me that the rules had changed?"

"Rules?"

"Giles. This is me."

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Tell me what you know and I'll fill in the blanks."

Buffy sat down opposite him.

"It was an anonymous phone call, a girl. She told me I might be interested in who's currently training the slayers in LA. When I asked, she said, 'let's just say he has a soul.' I rang here and spoke to Andrew. Do you know what he said?"

"I can honestly say I have no idea." Giles replied with a shake of his head.

"He said that he was sworn to secrecy and refused to say another word. Well, except for his normal ramble."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

"We agreed, Giles. He's untrustworthy, an unknown factor and it would be best just to keep the new slayers away from him. I can't believe you went behind my back like this. I mean, feel the trust here?"

Giles frowned.

"We're talking about...Angel?"

"Yes, we're talking about Angel! Who else? Gee, Giles, get with the script."

Giles gave the basement door an anxious glance. Buffy caught it.

"He's here, isn't he? You've actually started handing out our addresses to evil law firms and their employees?"

"Buffy..."

"No, Giles." He recognised the determined look and the slight frown.

"Please..."

But she was already on her feet and wrenching at the door handle. Locked. She tried again.

And heard an angry voice.

"If that is one of you sodding slayer bints will you just go away. Not interested, yeah?"

Her hand froze on the handle and she looked towards Giles.

"Who have you got locked in the basement."

"Locked in...? Its not how it appears, Buffy."

She gave him a contemptuous look, stepped back from the door, raised a leg and kicked it in.

"What the bloody hell..."

He looked up the stairs at the small figure, framed by the doorway. The light was behind her and he couldn't quite make out...oh.

"Buffy?"

She turned away, brushed past Giles without seeing him and into the sunlit yard. She found a secluded spot and allowed her legs to collapse beneath her.

Angel felt the sudden storm of emotion. It was confusion. It was pain, hurt, fear, affection, love. It was hope. What was happening now? He nearly jumped into his car straight away but he couldn't sense danger. Stupid. It would be stupid going to the slayer house in broad daylight. This evening, at the first sign of dusk, he'd go then and find out what was now threatening their uneasy status quo.

Gunn was sitting in his office, also perturbed, he was mulling over a call from Spike. They had never really had much to do with each other, he'd been the butt of the vampire's strange brand of humour a few times but other than that. Zilch. Then in the middle of the night he'd been awoken by the insistent ringing of the telephone.

"Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. I mean its Gunn. Who is this?"

"Who the bloody hell do you think?"

English, deeper voice than Wesley.

"Spike?" He'd asked blearily.

"Got it in one, Einstein."

"If this is your idea of a joke..."

"Of course not! My jokes are far more amusing than this." He sounded offended.

"So what's so important that you wake me at...3 o' clock in the morning?"

"I had a dream...maybe a nightmare..."

"You have to be kidding me. You're calling me in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream? Look I'm sorry, but call Angel. You're his kid."

"I am not his sodding kid! And will you listen. I had a dream. I dreamt that you signed a piece of paper and killed Fred."

"What are you getting at Spike? I would never harm Fred. She's one of the best people I know."

"You didn't know what would happen. You signed it. This sarcophagus relic thingy arrives and it kills Fred. We can't save her, we can't bring her back."

"Spike have you had premonitions before."

"No. That was always Dru's thing."

"You've had a bad dream, Spike. I'm not going to kill Fred."

"Yeah. Ok. But remember, you have choices. And a few years at law school would give you the intellectual kudos you want. Anyway, if anyone asks you to sign something, read it carefully first, yeah?"

"Ok, Spike. Whatever you want. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Wanker."

That had been the end of the conversation and he'd fallen back to sleep and by morning had virtually forgotten all about it.

Oh shit. How could he have forgotten?

He'd finally given in and gone to see a man about an implant. He'd nearly walked away when he heard the terms. But he hadn't. He'd signed the form to allow something through customs. He'd been fully aware that it was sure to be a bad thing but decided once he'd got his smarts secured he'd deal with it then. He'd forgotten Spike's warning.

It was only now that the odd conversation was coming back to him. Surely a coincidence? Spike had a bad dream, probably drank some bad blood. But the icy hand that clenched at his gut told him otherwise.

The slayers had gathered in the exercise room. Chris turned to the blonde girl.

"Honestly, Kirst. How could you be so stupid?"

The other girl shrugged.

"You know what Andrew said, he's in love with Buffy. He's not going to take the first girl who throw's herself at him. He's not like the geeky boys we know."

"I know that! Why do you think I love him? God. Have you actually looked at him?" She shivered and closed her eyes.

"Yeah but he's...Spike. Did you really think that he'd..."?

"He might have. He's not a monk or anything is he?"

"No, but he wouldn't take advantage of young girls either. You shouldn't have done it. Supposing he won't teach us anymore?"

"Of course he will. We're his. He said so. Didn't it make your knees turn to water when he said we were his? Anyway, Neesha shouldn't have phoned Buffy, either."

An Asian girl looked up and sighed.

"I know but he looks so sad sometimes. I wanted to do something for him. Make him happy."

"Well, so did I! You've got it as bad as me, making cow eyes at him all the time."

"There's no point arguing, what's done is done." Chris peeked out. "Oh. She's kicked the door in. You know I hope she doesn't find out about you, Kirsty, trying to seduce her vamp. She's wicked strong."

She closed the door quietly.

"So did you see him...naked?"

Kirsty lowered her eyes and then looked up slyly through her eyelashes.

"Oh yeah."

"How could you have? It's pitch black down there." Neesha asked and despite her doubt moved closer to hear more.

"He was asleep on the bed, the covers half thrown back. Moonlight came through that small window and illuminated him. Every dip and plain and muscle."

The other girls held their breath.

"If you'd seen him you would have risked the wrath of Buffy. I'm talking two words here. Greek. God."

"Then what happened?"

"He woke up. Wrapped himself in a sheet and asked me what the hell I was doing there and called me a dozy bint."

The others sniggered.

"How embarrassing!"

"What did you say?"

"Told him I took a wrong turning and made a run for it!"

They laughed.

"Oh don't worry, he'll just think you're insane."

"Don't care. It was worth every second."

"Buffy? Are you alright?" Giles touched her gently on the shoulder. "I realise it's a shock."

She turned large watery eyes to his.

"How can this be?"

"I don't know."

"You should have told me, Giles."

"I know."

"Did Willow...?"

"No. Not Willow."

"Is he alright? Is he hurting?"

"He's as he was."

"That can't be true. If it is, why hasn't he come to find me?"

"Maybe he is different, I don't think he knows exactly who he is."

"Californian claptrap. That's what he'd say to that."

"Perhaps he would. It doesn't make it any less true. Are you going to talk to him?"

"I...I don't know how."

"If it makes you feel any better I think he's feeling the same way. If he wasn't trapped by the daylight he'd probably run."

"He doesn't want to see me?" Her bottom lip trembled slightly.

"He wants it more than anything else in the world. It's just a little overwhelming."

"He's overwhelmed? I nearly died of shock. I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

"Come on. Let's go in and drag him out of hiding."

"Hiding? Spike's not afraid of anything."

Giles proffered a tissue. She dried her eyes and dabbed at her nose.

"I must look a wreck."

Giles looked at her tired face and red-rimmed eyes.

"You look beautiful, Buffy."

"You're a liar, Giles and a good one. When did you get to be such a good liar?"

"Just one of my many hidden talents."

She smiled at him.

"By the way, did I tell you it's good to see you, too?"

He laughed and pulled her into a hug.

"But don't think you're forgiven for deceiving me."

She talked bravely in front of Giles but now here she was stepping back into the house. She could make out a figure standing in the shadows. She concentrated on breathing but as he turned to face her, breath left her.

"Buffy."

"Spike."

"It's been a while."

"Two hundred and seventy-three days, eighteen hours." She replied.

"No minutes?"

"The world was falling apart and I forgot to look at my watch."

"Huh."

This felt too strange, too stilted.

"Can I touch? I mean...you. Can I touch you?" She asked.

"Buffy..." How could one word hold so much expression, so much feeling? It was just a name.

She hugged him and tried to stop her brimming eyes from dampening his shirt. He stroked her hair.

"It's alright, luv, Buffy. It's alright." He smoothed her hair soothingly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered.

"You know, I did the big hero finale thing, went out in a blaze of glory. Left you with one good memory of me being all self-sacrificing and noble. Spoils the effect when I suddenly pop back up again. Bit of an anticlimax isn't it? Went out a hero, come back as Spike."

Buffy pulled back.

"You can be a real dumb ass sometimes."

Spike smiled at her.

"What?" She asked.

"Everyone has been treating me like glass lately. You never do that."

He wished he could take back the words because now she was looking pained. This was everything he feared. Stilted conversations and every word stirring bad memories. He sat down on the couch and Buffy perched next too him.

"What have you been doing?" He finally asked.

"It's been amazing. I read a book and it didn't mention viscera once. I thought books like that were a myth but obviously I was mythtaken."

Spike raised a brow in mock surprise.

"You can read, as well?"

"Sure, I mean obviously the non-demony words I have to sound out loud, like d-o-g. But I persevere."

"So life is good?"

"Better than I ever dreamt it could be for me. I've been touring around Europe."

"Yeah? What did you think?"

"It's like Disneyland. Except real...did that make sense?"

"So that's what two thousand years of European culture has been reduced to?" Spike teased.

Buffy pouted and considered.

"It can be pretty awesome. They have castles and palaces. I can touch a wall and know that stone was placed there a thousand years ago."

Spike shrugged.

"As you get older you become less impressed with old thing. I haven't been to the old country for a while."

"I visited London." Her eyes held a faraway look.

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. I'd walk the streets and wonder if you had walked there once. Everyone spoke a little like you. I had to leave."

"Don't romanticise it Buffy. It was my hunting ground."

"You were human once. I imagined you still human, walking in the autumn sun."

"Yeah, well. It was all smog in those days and I'm as far removed from that man as the moon is from the sun."

"Maybe you're not that man, but you are still a man. A good man."

Spike said nothing.

"I'm sure the other slayers have noticed you're a man...and are you blushing?"

"Vampires don't blush."

"Oh I get it! What was it you shouted when I first tried to get into your room? Something about telling the 'slayer bints' to go away? And why exactly was it locked? Poor Spike being hounded by teenaged girls." She teased.

"Seriously Buffy, there's something very wrong with them."

"Well, it's obviously not their eyes. For someone who's a smouldering pile of dust," her eyes teared up slightly, "you're looking good."

She blinked and smiled at him.

"So how is it working out for you? You being all teachery?"

"Don't know really, haven't been doing it long. They've got the moves but then when we're faced with a big ugly, they don't apply what they've learnt."

"Have any of them got hurt?"

"Not yet. So far I've always managed to step in."

"Uh huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"They're dependent on you. If things aren't going right, instead of recovering, they're giving up and letting you do the biz. Seen it before with the potentials and some of the groups I've helped since."

"I suppose." Spike said reluctantly.

"Come on, Spike, just say, 'you're right Buffy'. Admit it like a man."

"I would. But my tongue is incapable of producing those sounds."

"Really? And can you say 'Spike is a complete dork?'" She asked thrusting out her chin.

"Hey!"

They looked around to find Andrew coming towards them.

"You shouldn't talk like that to him any more. He's one of us now. Except, you know, way cooler."

Buffy stared him down.

"No way is that bleach head cooler then me."

"Well....no." Andrew backtracked quickly. Even though he was now 85% more manly than he used to be, Buffy could still make him a little nervous. "Obviously I didn't mean cooler than you. Uh...I won't disturb you...I'm sure you want to...talk."

Spike gave her a slight grin.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?"

"Oh yeah!"

"You've changed. More relaxed...younger. You reminded me of the Bit for a second."

"I guess. I spent seven years fighting for my life on a nightly basis. Seven years when I should have been just hanging in the mall with my friends, listening to music in my room, worrying about how fashionable I was, making moon eyes over the nice looking boy in the next grade."

"You noticed a nice looking boy in the next grade?"

"No, but I should have. All the stupid, childish, growing up things I should have been doing. Where every decision should feel like life and death, not literally be life and death. Now my expiry date is the same as everyone else's. I can have a life, I can afford to make stupid mistakes and when I'm done with that I'll think about a husband, some kids, a dog..." She frowned slightly. "...or maybe a cat. The point is I have time, I can make plans or I can just do nothing. The world won't end if I do nothing."

Spike felt this speech as both a stab of pleasure and pain. Of course she would want children. And he'd always known that he wasn't one. He could never be the long haul guy. Now she had a chance of a real life.

"I'm happy for you, Buffy."

She caught his eye.

"It's down to you, Spike. Everyday I remembered you."

"Buff..."

"No, Spike. Everyday I remembered you and wished I'd taken the time to make you understand. I wasn't lying, when I said that I loved you."

"There's no need..."

"Would you be quiet and listen."

"Yes, 'Giles'."

Buffy gave him a hard look but deigned not to reply.

"I've had time to think in the last year. We've done so much to each other. We've both been monsters, we can't change it, can't take those memories away. But I can accept that you are not that man. You don't change your name when you change between your unsouled and souled state so I think we forget that there is a difference between the two...uh...perhaps you should change your name?" She considered this for a second before getting back on track.

"Anyway, I hope you know that I've changed too, I can hardly bear to think of how I treated you. There was nothing good between us. It was wrong for us both."

She saw him hang his head slightly and said gently, "Yet some good came out of it."

He looked up in confusion.

"What are you trying to say?"

"You made me feel alive. You brought me back to life. I wouldn't have survived that dark time without you. Maybe what we did was wrong but because of you I survived. And I know it was bad for you too. Hurt you. But in the end you got your soul because of it. Of your own free will. You got your soul. Do you know how special that makes you?"

"Then you became a champion and your sacrifice not only saved the world, saved my life. It also helped to give me a life worth living."

"There's many different ways of loving, I know that now. It's not always about one person for life. I'm not in love with you. That's almost too shallow for the way I feel. You're inside me, part of me, family. I love you."

It must be his soul making him such a wuss. He could feel the tears forming and blinked them harshly back."

"I'd do it again, for you. Anything you want."

"I know. I can trust you with anything. And you can trust me. If you need me, I'll be there."

"I already know it. You came for me when the First had me. I believed in you and you came for me. How can I not love you?"

She settled her head comfortably on his shoulder and let her eyes close as jet lag caught up with even her slayer stamina.

Once she was fast asleep, Spike gently lowered her on to the couch and covered her with a duvet.

He went about his normal routine. Training in the morning, playing his video games...occupational therapy, he quickly corrected himself, he did not play nerdy video games. And some quiet time away from the general bustle of the house. Giles had caught him at one point, obviously curious.

"Is she alright? I mean, are you both alright?"

"It's s'okay, Rupert. We met and the world didn't end."

"Can I really trust you?"

Spike just looked at him.

"Of course. Sorry."

The slayers had been unusually quiet during training. He'd ignored any tension and got on with it. They soon settled down and followed his lead. Since talking to Buffy about the slayers he had been thinking. He was used to fighting alone and that's what he had been passing on to the slayers. What they really needed was to gel as a team and be more aware of each other. He organised them into pairs to introduce them to the buddy system.

"When you're in the middle of a fight it's difficult to keep track of everyone, so this is the way you do it. You each have your partners, when you fight, you fight together. Always be aware of your partner and what she's doing. I know up until now I've always stepped in when you're getting your ass kicked. From now on it won't be me. It will be your buddy."

He looked at them seriously.

"Tonight you're going to take out a nest. These are different to the ones we've taken earlier. They are not all fledges, with the dirt of the grave hanging on them. They're older and more experienced. And I won't be there."

There was a slight stir in the room.

"So today you're training for real."

There was a new level of concentration. He made himself the target and let each pair take him on in turn, teaching them moves and counter moves at speeds the normal eye could hardly follow. When he realised that they were exhausted he called a halt and took them through their cool down. He tended to think of it as their wind down, they were always buzzing after training and needed to be brought back to an even keel.

"That's it then. You bints are by yourselves tonight. Later on Giles will give you directions to the nest. For those of you have no sense of direction," he looked at Kirsty, "I suggest you stick close to your friends. I'll see you tonight after the mission."

Once he had gone they collapsed on the to the floor.

"It's your fault, Kirsty. He's cross with you and now he's sending us out alone."

"Don't be stupid. Spike wouldn't let us go out if he thought we were going to end up dead. He think's we're ready that's all."

"Probably wants to spend some time with his Buffy, so he's getting rid of the kids for the night."

"We're not kids."

"We are to him. He's so old."

"Must be lonely not having anyone his age to talk to. You know...about old things. Horse and carts and wattle and daub houses."

"Don't think he's that's old, sweetie. Maybe the industrial revolution."

"Doubt if he even noticed stuff like that...you know, back then. He'd have been all blood and fangs not much interested in the latest techniques being used down at the mill."

"They're just animals."

"Some of the older ones have more to them, a personality."

"Yeah, but they're still evil."

"Except Spike. He went and got a soul."

"I had a slayer dream . About Spike. It was the New York slayer." Erica admitted.

"What happened?"

"He was a punk. Spiked hair, ripped T-shirt, piercings, eye liner. They met and fought, but it felt almost as though they were playing...dancing. He respected her, admired her, there was lust in his eyes and she knew he had come for her. It was as if he was courting her. He wanted no one else, only her."

"He was beautiful and deadly. She resisted him the first time they met and he left. The next time was on the subway. He was there, predatory, seductive, every move graceful but lethal. She was tired, she'd fought so long, for the world, for her son and she was spent, used up. Just for a moment she gave up and welcomed him, he was so strong and attacked so quickly. It was done it the blink of an eye. He didn't torture her or string it out, just broke her neck cleanly. That was it. I awoke, with the memory of him."

They considered this in silence.

It was Neesha who finally spoke.

"Maybe that's the best they could hope for, the old slayers. They were real warriors. What more could they ask for but a clean death in a good fight? I think she chose the terms of her death."

"That sort of life must be so frightening. So lonely."

"Perhaps that's what drew Spike and Buffy together, the loneliness and futility."

"It's strange isn't it? The last true slayer and the only vampire to win himself a soul, together. As though the whole world conspired to bring about that moment."

"Do you think he'll leave us and return to Italy with her?"

They were quiet. As much as they wanted to deny it, it had about it the feeling of fate and inevitability.

Angel filled his day doing all the pointless things he normally did. Yeah, he was busy, which was what he needed. But he was busy with things that Wolfram and Hart pushed in his direction, and maybe he was doing some good, it was impossible to tell. But what he wasn't doing was keeping in touch with the streets outside and all the things that the Senior Partners wanted to keep hidden. He knew that he was being distracted but didn't know what to do about it. He needed guidance and the Powers That Be had deserted him.

He had almost had enough. He had grown distant from his humans. His mission was lost in the devastation that Connor left behind. The guidance he'd always relied on was gone with Cordy. His dreams of beating evil from the inside were growing more and more distant. The only thing that kept him hanging on was Spike, almost as lost and confused as himself. He still had one duty left, to protect and care for Spike.

He tried to keep away from the bond, the feelings coming through puzzled him. Made him anxious and restless. They weren't exactly bad but they made him itch and filled him with foreboding. He glanced up at his clock yet again, as he waited impatiently for dusk to fall.

Buffy awoke with a languorous stretch, feeling ravenous. That much hadn't changed since the old days. She'd put on a little weight but what can you expect? When in Rome, do as the Romans do, which in her case meant eating lots of pasta swimming in olive oil.

"Hey, Giles. What's cooking?"

"No longer cooking. Cooked. Can you get some plates, please?"

She looked at the garlic bread and pasta.

"You Giles, are a prince among men."

"I knew it. You only love me for my culinary skills."

"That's not true. I also love you for your washing and vacuuming skills."

"Well as long as my true talents are appreciated..."

As he turned away to strain the pasta, she swiped a slice of garlic bread.

"I saw that Buffy."

"How do you do that?" she pouted.

"I think it's parent/child thing." He replied.

"Know what you mean, I can do it to Dawn. It drives her nuts."

The other slayers came down and were introduced. Spike stayed in his room.

"He likes to have a quiet time." Giles explained.

She mainly listened to the chat around the table, only chipping in occasionally. When they were finished she stayed to help Giles clear the table.

"They normally help but tonight they're preparing themselves for their trip out without Spike. Or so they think. As if he'd let them out of his sight."

"They really like him don't they?"

"Yes. It's Andrew's fault. You know how he always likes to tell stories."

"He still does that?"

"Yes, I've tried to stop him. But everything we lived through...or didn't...he's turned into stories giving them the air of myths and legends. They probably have a secret shrine where they worship the great god Spike."

"And meeting him hasn't changed their point of view at all?" She asked raising her eyebrows in droll amusement.

"Not an iota. When you think about it, every story Andrew told was true. Then Spike claimed them as his. Now they already feel themselves becoming tangled up in the legends. If they're his then they are going to be the best. They'll work for him until they're dropping from exhaustion. He compares them to you and sees their failings but actually they're probably the best we've had so far."

"I thought he had nothing here, but it's not true is it? I was going to ask if he wanted to return to Rome with me. He can train slayers there, too."

"Buffy, is that wise."

"Don't do that, Giles. It's different now. In a way it hardly matters. Nothing will change for us. We've found something...comfortable. I love him, he loves me and miles don't really matter. If he needed me I'd be here before he could finish calling for me. We could sleep together and still nothing would change. It's all...window dressing. It's no longer passion and need and dependency. It's honesty, trust and love. I could happily spend the rest of my life with just him. But, one day, I would like family and children. He's never been selfish with me. He wants that for me too. Also, I don't want him tied to me as I'm growing old. He needs more in his life than that. But...you know...if he wanted, we could have a few years together."

"You're deluding yourself, it wouldn't work Buffy. I've seen you two together, if you took him away you wouldn't be able to let go again. If ever you had a husband he wouldn't even be close to becoming a substitute for Spike. What sort of life would that be? I think my first instincts were right. It would be better for you both if you didn't meet too often."

"For us both? What has Spike got here?"

"He has Angel nearby."

"That's the scraping of the barrel, Giles. They don't even like each other."

"Something has changed. Perhaps you should talk to Spike. Besides which he still has his slayers here. Vampires take claiming very seriously."

"Right, his fan club. How do they feel about me?"

"Slightly below Spike on the hero worship scale."

"Not fair, I've prevented more apocalypses than him. And died more times than him."

"Not strictly true. He's died twice, too."

"Huh. Well, I'm still up on the apocalypses."

"Still competitive aren't you?" Said a husky English voice. "I can't imagine you settling down to a quiet life in suburbia, when the only competition will be making sure that your roses flourish better than the ones next door."

She turned to find Spike laughing gently at her.

"Suburbia? I never said suburbia."

"True, you didn't. Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah, sorry about falling asleep on you. Literally."

"Anytime."

It was such a contrast to the days when she'd turn up for the sex but couldn't bear to stay with him afterwards. It made the soul more that worth it, he could finally give her something she needed even if it was just a quiet place to lay her head for a little while.

"It's getting dark. I'll make sure the slayers are prepared." Giles said as he walked out.

"You're letting them out by themselves?"

"You must be bloody joking. No way could they take the nest. The vampire in charge is as old as Angelus and she's just as vicious." Spike snorted. "Just want to make them think they're alone, they've been too complacent. I'll follow behind."

"Mind if I walk with you?"

"As long as you don't hold me up."

"Hold you up? You're so going to regret that when you're puffing along behind me."

"Vampires don't puff."

"Yeah, so what's that thing you do with the breathing? Relaxation techniques?"

"Do I still do that? Left over from being human. Angelus used to try to beat it out of me."

"Nothing can beat the humanity out of you. I think it just curled up and hid for a hundred years or so."

The slayers left and they followed at a discreet distance.

It was finally dark enough to leave. Angel let out a sigh. This was one of the longest day's he'd ever known. He called for his chauffeur, he didn't want to be forced to abandon his car if he needed to get out.

When he reached the slayer house he could sense that Spike was still inside. The slayers finally appeared, they seemed tighter grouped and more anxious than usual. He wondered where Spike was. God he hoped he was ok. Right, there he was. Angel got out of the car and was about to walk over to him when he noticed the small blonde figure next to him.

He became deathly still.

Not her. It couldn't be her. She had her arm casually linked to Spike. Angel followed behind, careful to keep his distance and to move silently. Then he heard her speak, her distinct Sunnydale twang was unmistakeable.

"Buffy." He whispered.

She was speaking.

"So you know, I was thinking."

"Be careful don't want you to hurt yourself, Blondie."

"Oh, dumb blonde jokes, coming from you. Pot and kettle, Spike. Anyway, quit with the distraction."

"Ok, go on."

"You know I love you right? And I know you love me."

"Yeah." Spike replied cautiously, wondering where this was going.

"Do you want to come back to Italy with me?"

Angel stopped as though he'd run into a brick wall. He could hear the happy chatter fading into the distance. He took a side street and leant heavily against the wall. He was breathing. He found it rather odd, he never breathed. He wished it would stop. The icy air was hurting his throat. He felt cold. He was always cold. He never liked February. People thought that California was always warm but February was a bitter month. The chill went to his bone, but of course it did. He was dead. A corpse.

His face was wet. Was it raining? He wasn't really sure. He couldn't see clearly. He felt the hard sidewalk beneath his knees.

He remembered this world when it was light and young. It still was for some, places where Italian sun was caught and held in strands of blonde. Not his world though. His world was dark, like his hair and like his eyes and like his soul. A dark, bleak, place, as empty as his heart.

A voice cut through his misery.

"Angelus! Fancy seeing you here. And so distressed. So despairing. Damn! It does my eyes good to see you this way. On your knees before me, the way it should be."

The woman smiled at him and then her beautiful face changed as she flashed her fangs in a grin.

"I'm so glad to be able to get reacquainted with you. Before you pass from this world, forever."

He knew this vampire from back in the day and they hadn't been friends. She was old and despite her laughable melodrama, she was dangerous. Angel knew he should get up and fight but what the hell for? What was there left to fight for? He made no move as she came towards him.

Buffy continued.

"Not forever, but you know for a while. We have new slayers out there, as well. You could train them."

"I...don't know what to say."

It was tempting. To be with her for a while. To see the Italian sun reflected on her face.

"Thank you, Buffy. For asking me."

"It's not something you need to thank me for! I'd like you to come back with me. You're going to say no, aren't you?"

Spike refused to meet her look.

"Giles has hinted that I need to ask about Angel. Like what's between you and him? Will you tell me?"

Spike nodded slowly and asked, "Do you still love him?"

Buffy hesitated.

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"He was the first man I ever loved and I don't think I can ever stop loving him."

"It's ok Buffy. I understand, 'many different ways of loving', yeah?"

"Yeah. But I don't understand him anymore. I wasn't happy when he left me to take up the fight by himself but I understood. But I can't understand why he's joined the other side. The person I knew wouldn't have done that."

"He had a load of shit piled on him, which put him in a place where every choice he made was bad, he just did the best he could in the circumstances. He's not evil but he's struggling and he needs every bit of love and support he can find. He's the same man you knew, with the best of intentions but that law firm is seriously starting to screw with him."

"And you want to help him? Why?"

"I don't know. Things have been happening so quickly recently, you know? Felt like everything's been outside my control. I wasn't myself for a while. Lost my memories and found some innocence. He cared for me and if I could have stayed like that I'd probably still be there. With him."

"What makes everything so different now?"

"We can't just play at happy little vampire family. There's too much between us."

"What he's not willing to let go of all that torture and trying to kill him stuff?"

There was no reply from Spike, which was answer enough.

"It's you. You can't let go of all the bad things."

"Yeah, you're right, it's me." He admitted.

"Why? I mean you're the most forgiving person I know. Jees, when I think of all the times I beat up on you."

"It's not that. Not the physical pain. It's just that...he always leaves. Always walks away from me."

"Tell me about it." Buffy agreed fervently. "But not to take a chance cus you think you might lose it in the end is really stupid. At least you have a chance if you take it."

"Yeah. I know. It's not just that. I don't have a place there. Here I have my role and I'm doing work I believe in. If I stayed with the gang I'd end up getting sucked into that whole evil thing. It's so subtle you don't realise you're trapped until the door slams shut behind you."

"But you'd leave Angel there? By himself?"

"I don't think I'm good for him. He clings like I'm the only thing he has left, and the things he's prepared to do to keep me safe weaken him. You know what he's like when he loves. He'd take on hell."

"Yeah. Wait a minute. He loves you? I know 'many different kinds' blah, blah. But he...loves you?"

"It's strange. When we ran as proper vampires we were like all the others only more so, possessive, protective, a strong blood bond running between us. The joy of the hunt and the pleasure of curling up as a family afterwards. It was kinship, blood and contentment. Now we've got souls and it's still demonic, still possessive but it's been confused with something slightly more human. Affection...love."

"Like father and son?"

"Yeah. That's as closest thing I can equate it to. Except with the drinking each other's blood and things."

"Ew! You drink...? It sounds...intimate. Gross and intimate."

"It is. Intimate, I mean, not gross. It gives a buzz, a high, which you only get from this sort of blood sharing, which we can get only from each other. When it happened it felt like...coming home. It also opened a link between us, I sort of get an idea of what he's feeling and he knows how I am."

"Oh. Does he know I'm here?"

"Nah. He can't read my mind or anything."

"Good."

"Don't give up on him, Buffy. He's still a good man. Just a bit lost, like we all get occasionally."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I care about you both, you know that?"

Spike nodded.

"If he's lost don't you think it might be better if you were with him, you could help him keep perspective...keep him on the straight and narrow?"

"I don't know what I should be doing. All I know is I can't leave him yet. He's...oh bloody hell!"

He held his head and doubled over in pain.

"Spike? Spike! Oh God! What's the matter? Have they given you a chip again?"

"It's Angel. He's in trouble, not far away from here."

"How do you know...you said you don't send messages down this mystic-y link. You can't possibly know. What about your slayers? You can't just abandon them."

Spike was torn. His slayers might be able to handle the nest but not that vicious bitch who ruled them. He'd meant to be there to help and teach them. They couldn't possibly beat her. He'd wanted to see them wise up, not to send them to their deaths.

He had a choice Buffy and his slayers, or his sire. He thought about it logically and there was no choice, humans always came first. He nodded to Buffy.

"I'm sorry Buffy. Look after my slayers. Please?"

Logic had damn all to do with it. He'd seen his sire huddled in a corner waiting to be staked. He raced down the street towards Angel.