Ensouled - The Complete Series

Fred had been waiting for the phone to ring for nearly two months. It wasn’t that the phone hadn’t rang at all, the odd case, bill collectors, but the people she wanted to hear from had just disappeared. Fred and Gunn had gone over that night a thousand times. They had gone to the cliffs where Cordelia Chase had asked Angel to meet her. They had gone to Cordelia’s apartment, where all they had found was a rattled ghost and the few things Groo had left behind. They had gone to the motel where they had first seen Holtz with Connor, but neither of them had been seen by the portly manager. All of them were just gone. Cordy, Angel, Groo, Connor, Holtz. Even Lorne had left. Fred and Gunn were alone, completely alone.

"We’ve looked everywhere but the bottom of the ocean, and something tells me Angel and Cordy wouldn’t have taken a submarine trip together. I mean there’s a lot of places they wanted to show Connor, but somehow I doubt that was real high on the list." Gunn put an arm around Fred’s small frame and held her tight, she felt wonderful in his arms, until the phone rang and he caught an elbow in the chin when she dove for it.

Wesley had just settled onto the couch when there was a knock at the door. The only person who had been to his flat in months was Lilah Morgan. She would just show up. Uninvited. Unwanted. Yet, every time he let her in. Sometimes they would talk, she would scheme to get him to join Wolfram and Hart, and he would try to pry information from her about prophecies and demons. Sometimes they would just skip the small talk and shag, lately there was more of that than talking. He had gotten used to her visits, even though he didn’t like her in the least. So when the knock came he was tempted to just tear his clothes off and make it clear she was only of one use to him. Wesley was glad he had curbed the impulse when he opened the door and found Fred standing there.

"Yes, I recall. The last time was in the hospital. I had just had my throat slit trying to protect Angel’s son and you came to tell me to never come to the office again. Thank you so much for this forced death march down memory lane. Have a nice afternoon." He went to shut the door but Fred threw a hand out and stopped him.

"I really don’t see what that has to do with me. I am no longer a private investigator. I am a..an." He looked around the apartment he had barely left in the past three months. "I am an avid reader. I am a professional avid reader. I really should be getting back to it now. There are new books written everyday, did you know that. It is very hard to keep up."

"That’s all well and good, Wesley. But they’ve been gone for two months. I can’t take it anymore, just the two of us in that huge hotel, a hundred rooms full of nothing. I have to find them, and I need you. I need your help Wesley." Fred had gotten very close to Wesley and was now reaching out for his arm. He tried to take a step back but was blocked by an end table. "Wes, please. Help us find them."

"I don’t know, I just think you can. I’ve tried looking in some of the books at the office to see if there’s something we missed, but I can’t even read half of them, and the ones I can don’t make any sense to me." Fred let go of his arm and then grabbed it again when she remembered the phone call. "Oh, I almost forgot, this morning I got the strangest call from someone named William. He was looking for Angel, he said Angel could help him, that no one else would understand. Then he said he was coming to the hotel, and I thought maybe you would know who he was. He asked if I was Cordelia, so I thought maybe he was someone y’all knew from Sunnydale."

"And now this evil vampire is back and looking for Angel. I’ve got to warn Charles." Fred pulled out a cell phone and began dialing. Wesley put his hand out and closed her phone. "Wesley, what are you doing! I know you’re mad but you can’t let a vampire kill Charles."

"Spike couldn’t kill him if he wanted to. He’s been living in Sunnydale with Buffy and her merry lot for years. He has some sort of device in his head that prevents him from hurting humans. We aren’t in any danger from him, although it is curious that he would come to Los Angeles looking for Angel. I’ve heard the last time he was here he nearly tortured Angel to death, I doubt he would expect to be welcomed with open arms."

"I’m gonna head back to the hotel now okay." Fred gave Wesley a little hug, "I’m glad you’re doing better Wesley." She let go of him and left. Wesley sat back down on the couch and picked up a book, not really reading it. Now he hoped Lilah would come visit him. Chances were she knew about Angel’s disappearance. He would just have to find out how much.

Spike had waited until dark before heading for the Hyperion. He had only been a few miles away, in some fleabag motel on Wilshire, when he had called Angel Investigations. It had been a very hard call to make, but Angel was the one person on earth that would understand the pain of the soul.

The irony was not lost on Spike. He had mocked Angel for years about his soul, how it had made him soft, made him turn his back on his true nature, on the nature of the vampire. Angel’s soul had been restored as a curse. Spike had fought, and nearly died, for his soul. Now he too was wounded, not physically, the cuts and burns had healed before he left Africa. The horror of his unlife, more than a century of purest evil, that pain would only grow worse.

Angel had once told Spike that he could remember every victim he had taken, that he could see their faces and hear their voices. Spike remembered many, but not all. He remembered watching Angelus and Drusilla torture victims night after night for twenty years. He remembered the joy it had given him, the infinite amount of pleasure he had taken from the screams and pleading that they could wrench from some poor soul who had been unfortunate enough to cross their path. The images of those nights played in Spike’s head like a movie. Only he was the star, and the movie would not stop.

Spike had gone to Africa not sure of his own strength. He debated endlessly over which fate would be his. Would he have the chip removed and embrace his demon, or would he welcome his soul back? In the end he chose his soul. How many times had Buffy compared him to Angel, ’You don’t have a soul.’ She had said it a hundred times. Even when he held her in his arms after they had made love all night. She still would not let herself love him. He was unclean, unworthy, unsouled. Now he would show her. He would march back into Sunnyhell and show her that he had changed. He would go back to her.

After he found Angel, after he told his Sire that he now understood the pain. That they shared the same torture. After he made amends for torturing Angel over the ring. The bloody gem of Amara. It had seemed so important, he had needed it so badly. To feel the sunshine on his face. It now seemed like a dream, yet it had been real. He could still smell Angel’s burning flesh as Marcus had buried the searing pokers into his side again and again. He could almost taste Angel’s blood in his mouth, it had filled the room, enraging him even more, knowing that he could not reach out and take him into his mouth as he had done to Angelus. It would have been a sign of weakness, Angel did not need to know how much he wanted to taste him. So Spike had done what came naturally, he had plunged a length of rebar into his chest and left Marcus to find where the ring was hidden.

A flash of light brought Spike out of his reverie. He had triggered the motion lights outside a small espresso bar as he walked by. Spike looked up, then across the street, he had made it to the Hyperion Hotel. ‘Pompous prick.’ He thought. Just like Angel to pick some huge manse, just like the great stone mansion they had shared in Sunnydale. Shared. The thought made Spike laugh. Angelus would have done more than laugh at Spike’s twisted memory of those months. Spike had only been there to play the part of Angel and Drusilla’s toy. They had played with him when it suited them and beaten him down when it did not. The trouble living with soulless vampires was the lack of mercy, it had all seemed just peachy at the time, until they had decided to destroy the world that is. That part was a little less fun.

"Surprise in the most liberal sense of the word since you invited me over." Lilah took a seat on the faux leather couch and kicked her heels off. "So what was the rush, were you watching the Scarlet Letter again? Cause that little role-playing game is fun once or twice..."

"Her car was found on the side of the freeway, a few exits from the pier she and Angel planned to meet at. There was no sign of struggle or an accident. No witnesses that remember anything. I really don’t have much to go on Wes." Lilah tried to turn her head towards Wesley’s mouth but he feinted.

"Never found." Lilah could hardly take the toying Wesley continued to torture her with. "There were tracks in the dirt, a few scuff marks down the side of a little bluff, but that’s it. Our sweepers didn’t tell me anything else. Now can we stop talking?" She bit at Wesley’s ear and reached to undo his pants.

Spike passed through the heavy gate of the Hyperion into a garden area. Jasmine, the pouf always has to have his jasmine. He shook his head and headed for the heavy doors. For a moment Spike debated over knocking or just walking in. Deciding to walk in he opened the door and was stopped by an invisible barrier. ‘Not good,’ he thought to himself. ‘Demon lair, should be able to march right in, unless someone knows something I don’t.’

"Oh good, then I invite you in." Fred stepped to the side opening the door all the way. Spike crossed the threshold and the familiar scent of Angel immediately hit his nose. There was the faint scent of myrtle and saxifrage that had followed Angelus from Galway, the smell was fading but it was clearly Angel.

"Thanks ever so." Spike said as he crossed the room to where Gunn was standing. Spike was unsure whether he should offer his hand to the other man, or just hold his ground. He was still pondering when Gunn grabbed a stake from behind the counter. "That won’t be necessary, mate." Spike said taking a step back.

"Just a precaution, you understand." Gunn said taking a defensive stance. "See, we had some other members of your little family staying here a few months back and it led to nothing but trouble, and since Angel seems to be on vacation, there’s not much we can do for you right now."

"Hang on just a bleedin’ minute would you. Anything Dru and Darla were up to has nothing to do with me. I just need to find Angel. I’m gonna take a stab and say this was not a planned exodus on his part, and since I don’t see vision girl around I’m thinking the two of you aren’t telling me everything." Spike planted himself on the small sofa that sat in the middle of the lobby and gave a little pout in Fred’s direction.

"So when you say Connor, Connor right? He followed Angel the night he disappeared. He have some sort of motorized stroller or something? Fill in the details here." Spike stood up, then as an afterthought added, "Can I be rude for a second, well of course I can, I’m the big bad and all." He laughed at his own joke. "Who are you two?"

Angel had rarely shared stories of Angelus with him, but after Wesley’s one brief encounter with Angel’s alter ego, he was more inclined to know the history not revealed in the watcher diaries. He had asked Angel about Spike only once or twice and finding the tales a bit gruesome even for him, he decided to let the subject go.

"Angelus and Spike were only together for about twenty years before Angel got his soul back." Wesley continued. "Then about four years ago, in Sunnydale, when Spike resurfaced with Drusilla, Angelus made a guest appearance and they picked up right where they had left off."

"I don’t know, but this guy has already cost me more headaches in one day than Angel managed in a whole week, and that week involved one of my bosses being kidnapped, nearly tortured and a pentagram that covered half of the Hyperion’s lobby. This Spike is seriously pissing on my summer."

After taking a couple hours to catch Spike up on the past year’s highlights, Gunn had driven him up the Santa Monica highway to Point Dume, where Angel had gone to meet Cordelia. They had parked Gunn’s truck and found a way down the steep bank to the rocky beach below.

"No, I’m sure it wasn’t like that. From the look on Angel’s face while he was on the phone with Cordy, their plans were fairly immediate, as in no need to get a room." Gunn had had months to get used to the idea that the sparring going on in the hotel’s basement between Angel and Cordelia had done more than work their muscles, but he knew Angel wasn’t one to leave the hotel for long if he could help it.

"Yeah, that sounds like Angel, I mean, he never exactly feared public displays of emotion." Spike fought back flashes of his Sire taking Drusilla right in front of him night after night, daring Spike to comment, daring him to make the slightest gesture that it bothered him.

Spike tried to take in the pier, tried to get some scent of Angel, but after months he knew it would be impossible. He dug around in the rocks for a minute trying to think of an explanation. He just couldn’t put the pieces together, he had to find Angel. Without Angel what was the point? He hadn’t fought for the soul just for himself, certainly not just for Buffy. He wanted to see Angel, he wanted to show Angel that he was redeemable too.

"Let’s go a bit further down the pier, maybe by the boats. I get the feeling someone has to know more than their telling. Someone had to have seen something. Even Angel’s son..." Spike still had to laugh as he said it. "Even Connor couldn’t have been strong enough to take Angel down by himself, assuming that’s what we’re all thinking happened here."

Wesley tried to leave the room, but the phone cord wasn’t long enough. Settling on a chair near his bedroom he tried to focus on his call again. "My source is sure that Spike has his soul, I really don’t know what that means, just be careful, I can’t even speculate on what effect that will have on his chip."

"Wesley, you are without a doubt the worst liar I have ever met. Tell Lilah ‘hi’ for me." Fred wished she could be there to see him blush. Lilah had put an abrupt end to her crush on Angel when she returned from Pilea. Something about watching her and Angel, well Angel’s body at least, waxing Wesley’s desk had been a big turn-off. Fred just hoped she could return the favor someday.

Spike and Gunn had reached the nearest docking point, which was only about half a mile down the beach from Point Dume. Gunn had talked to many of the people who kept their boats moored along the three wooden piers. None of them had been helpful in the least, no one saw anything on the beaches at night because the only people on the beach at night didn’t want to be seen. Spike had been adamant about asking more people, sniffing around for something he and Fred had missed before.

Fred had called to let him know Wolfram & Hart had been sniffing around the docks too. Almost as soon as Angel had disappeared Lilah had sent a cleaning crew to the pier to find out what people knew, they hadn’t had any luck either. Gunn decided to ask her where she had managed to find out the juicy details of Lilah’s search later, he had a feeling Wesley was involved and that was a door he wasn’t in the mood to open just then. Doing detective work with Spike was trying enough on it’s own. He was rude to everyone they talked to, and the other half could barely understand him.

Spike had become more aggravated each time he heard the phrase ‘can’t help you’. He had a feeling more people were out here at night than wanted to admit it. After asking most of the people if they remembered anyone they didn’t recognize on the pier that night they began to walk up and down each row of boats and snoop a little. It was nearing midnight and the few men left were sitting on their docks drinking beers and joking, not paying much attention to Gunn and Spike’s investigations.

They were just about to give up when Spike caught the faintest scent of myrtle. His nose would have recognized the soft scent anywhere, it screamed Angel to him. They were near a small fishing boat with no name. The pair quietly boarded it, trying to not raise the suspicions of the men sitting on the other boats in the harbor.

The deck was filthy and the entire boat was in need of repair. On the portside they found a few tattered nets, but that wasn’t what had caught Spike’s eye. Under a small blue tarp he had found a handful of nuts and bolts mixed with some brazing wires, used for welding.

"Someone brought something else on board to fix up, and since I can smell Angel’s blood on this deck, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it was the kid. Question is, what did they do with him?" Spike stared out at the blackness of the sea and shuddered. "That’s an awfully big ocean."

The first sensation had been the salt water rushing into the gash in his side. The burning had been excruciating. At first he had gasped for air he did not need. The sensation of water filling his lungs, being unable to exhale it had been unbearable for weeks. Angel laughed in his head. Weeks, he had no idea how long he had been at the bottom of the ocean. He didn’t even know where he was.

They had only been on the boat for a matter of moments. Connor and Justine had thrown his dazed body into the thick metal box and bolted him down before he woke from the tazer’s shocks. Angel had been so dazed by Connor’s betrayal he hadn’t even tried to fight as they plunged him into the freezing water. He had told Connor he forgave him and to forgive himself when he learned that Angel had not killed Holtz.

Angel had wanted to kill Holtz, he had taken his son and turned him against him. Angel had not wanted to hear his apology any more than he imagined Holtz wanted to hear his. Angel had murdered Holtz’s family. No. Worse than murder, he had taken his wife again and again, leaving just enough blood in her veins to keep her alive throughout his torture, he had watched Darla turn Holtz’s only daughter into a vampire, they had drained his infant son and laid the three of them out like Christmas presents. And still, after two centuries, Angel wanted to kill Daniel Holtz, wanted to feel him go limp in his arms. But Angel’s soul had won that battle. He had let him live. He had trusted him to do the right thing. To walk away. To leave him what was left of his son’s life. He had not expected the old man to have any other tricks up his sleeve, but he now knew the truth. He had either killed himself or had his clueless wench do it for him.

Angel could still hear Justine’s voice, it grated on him, tore his brain to little pieces, even as the small fish had climbed through the openings in his underwater coffin and began to nibble at his flesh. He heard her taunting him, telling Connor he was a monster, that he had killed his father. Father. Angel now knew Holtz had only kept Connor alive in the Quor’Toth dimension to bring him back to LA. Holtz’s final revenge, to make his own son kill him. To turn his only child so against him that he would plunge him into the ocean, to live a life without sun nor shadow. An eternity in darkness.

Angel’s thoughts passed from Holtz and Connor to Cordelia, whom he loved, to memories of Darla’s final sacrifice. She had taken her own life so that Connor would survive, but Angel could not think of her for very long without his thoughts drifting through decades and centuries he wanted to forget. He dreamt of Drusilla, of his family, Buffy. And Spike. Angel knew this was his penance for a dozen lifetimes of torture.

Darla had been so sure at the end that they would never make amends and he knew that she was right. There was no amount of good that would miraculously save his soul. Nothing he could do to end his suffering. There was no reason he should expect to. Prophecies and Shanshu aside, he was a demon, soul or not, the evil resided in him still. He had felt the rage of his demon when Connor had first been taken. He had nearly tortured Linwood to death, he had wanted to, he had felt the monster screaming within him to embrace it. When Angel had gone to see Wesley in the hospital after Justine had slit his throat, he wanted to take his life. Angel had wanted to make sure Wes knew it was not the demon killing him, it was the man. It had seemed so important at the time. Time.

Cordelia felt the solidness of her body passing away. With each day she felt a little thinner, and a little stronger. The powers she had had on earth seemed to pale to that she felt now. The visions still came, but it was no longer like a premonition, she lived the moments like she was part of them. She felt herself becoming the people she saw, and Cordelia hated it. She hated it with every inch of her soul. She was losing herself in this place, this ‘higher realm’.

Cordelia wanted to put her feet on the ground. She wanted to crawl into a warm bath or a lover’s arms. She wanted to feel warm. She wanted to feel the love and joy she knew she deserved. She had fought the good fight and all that blather. She had played the part of the hero. She saved her friends from the demon lobsters that had invaded the hotel. She had pulled some of the hate out of Connor. She had tried so hard to help Angel’s son, she had helped Angel.

He was all she had thought of during her first weeks here. Here not there. Angel. She had tried to tell herself that The Powers That Be Deserving An Ass Kicking had made her fall in love with Angel to test her. To see if she was strong enough to give up a chance at love. That wasn’t it. She knew it was more than that. For six years she had known Angel, fighting beside him, working beside him, watching him, wanting him. Cordelia wanted to see joy in those eyes. She wanted to see Angel’s dark eyes look upon his son and know that he belonged in the human world, that his fight was not in vain. He was loved.

Spike wasn’t ready for the coldness of the water. This is Southern Bloody California, why does it feel like South Hampton? He dove in. He knew he was mad. He wondered out loud if Drusilla wasn’t sending him little fairy visions, planting crazy thoughts in his head like Angel had once done to her.

He had just jumped into the Pacific Ocean to look for his Sire. It occurred to Spike at this point that talking to Angel might not be worth becoming shark bait, but he had to try. He put his head under water, letting his eyes adjust to the terrible sting of the salt it contained, and dove deeper. Spike fell to the ocean floor, not too deep here, but still far over his head. He tried to push the panic in his head, telling him he shouldn’t be here, deep into the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t drown, he was a vampire. He had hidden in lakes and rivers with Angelus more than once evading enemies and angry mobs. He knew he could stay under for hours and be none the worse for wear.

Spike began a completely random search pattern, it being night and too deep to have any stars or lights for reference. He crossed the ocean floor slowly, fighting his body’s natural urge to float. He aimed out of the port as best he could judge, thinking that if you were going to try to drown a vampire you probably would head out of the busy port for open ocean, but how far. He replayed the details of Angel’s disappearance in his mind. He had taken Connor to a movie around 10, just after dark, about half way through Helicopters and pissed off torture victims interrupt the big fight scene, back at the hotel around 11:30, mysterious phone call from Cordelia soon after, on the road by midnight, half hour drive to the Point Dume from the hotel.

That was a lot more time than Spike wanted to think about. If they, the elusive ‘They’, had nabbed Angel right away they could have gone to sea and sailed until just before the sun came up and then dumped him. Spike hadn’t been on a boat in quite some time. He thought hard about the ones he had been on, a cross Atlantic liner could travel about 20 nautical-miles in an hour, a small boat like Spike and Gunn had found might make about 10 knots, so say 60 or 70 miles in six hours.

Spike swam as fast as he could into the fray. Large redfish began nipping at his ankles while many smaller fish became embedded in his clothes. It was only a matter of seconds before he saw their prey. A long metal box with a grate covering the top. Spike could smell the blood in the water, old blood. Blood he had tasted in his lifetime. Blood he had worshipped.

"He’s a vampire, they just have ways of getting around, he has my number if he needs a ride. He just said he’d meet me back here, so I left." Connor was now in the lobby with them. Gunn gave him a sharp look and took a step forward, placing himself between Connor and Fred. "Guess it’s a good thing I came back when I did."

"Don’t you hey me like you just went out for a candy bar. You don’t get to show up after two months and just ‘hey’. You start with where you’ve been, followed by why you didn’t call, and end with I’m sorry Gunn, let me make it right and tell you where Angel is!" Gunn took another step forward crowding the much smaller boy.

Angel opened his eyes when he heard the sound of banging on the box. He had half expected to see a school of sharks tearing into his cage when he saw a very human hand reach over the grating. Angel began to thrash inside his bonds, he instantly regretted it, the sharp lengths of the cable that bound his arms and legs sent splinters into his already raw skin. He tried to still himself and see who was trying to help him.

Angel bit his lower lip to distract himself from the pain that shot through his body. He had been able to put himself in a trancelike state most of the day, and the renewed activity not only brought him out of his trance, it brought him into the searing pain. It was through this burning pain that he saw a mat of blonde hair and pale skin float over his prison. It finally dawned on him who he was seeing. Spike.

Once again Spike moved across the top of the box testing the strength of the welds that Justine had placed on each side. Angel waited to see a glimpse of Spike’s face. He didn’t have to wait long, after his inspection Spike stopped just above the box and looked at Angel, giving him a little smile, then moving to the side again. He mouthed the word ‘Ready’ to Angel. Angel nodded at him and waited for Spike to break the welds with a rock he presumably pulled off the ocean floor. He then heard the long rod being pulled out of the side panels. Spike pulled the grated lid from the box and tossed it to the sandy floor. He then counted off with his fingers 1..2..3. On three Angel pushed up on the thick cables with all of his strength. At the same time Spike pulled at the cable where Connor had bolted it down. On the third attempt the cable that bound Angel’s arms gave loose and he was able to slide his legs free of the other two cables that had held him for weeks.

Spike took Angel’s arm, and together they began their assent to the surface. Once they had breached the top, Spike slowly kicked his legs moving them toward the coast. Once Spike had pulled Angel up on the rocky shore both vampires instinctively gasped for air and tried to expel the seawater from their bodies. They lay together for a moment, spent from the swim and bloodied from the bites of the fish, who were not terribly eager to let their prey go.

Once they had sufficiently recovered enough to move, Spike took Angel into his arms and whispered ‘Sire." Angel pressed his bleeding body into the comforting arms that held him and both men began to weep. Neither one knew what the other had gone through, or how they had managed to come together again, but in that moment the bond of sire and childe was as strong as it had ever been.

Spike and Angel managed to find a cab, after being turned down several times, seems taxi drivers in Santa Monica were not fond of soaking wet and bloodied fares, especially in the middle of the night. Spike put on his most gentlemanly manner and said they had been carjacked and thrown off the bank, but thankfully they did not have their wallets taken. So if the driver didn’t mind wet money they were good for the trip. That settled the two soaking men took a seat in the back seat and sat in silence until they reached the Hyperion.

Spike paid the driver and helped Angel out of the cab. Angel looked up the steps to the front door and shook his head. He didn’t want the others to see him this way, and Spike really hadn’t told him anything yet, so he motioned to the side entrance. Understanding Spike held his Angel’s arm while they went up the stairs to the second floor. Once inside they moved silently to Angel’s room.

Angel followed Spike into the bathroom, where he let himself be undressed. Spike turned the water on in the shower and waited for it to begin steaming. He then removed his own wet clothes and stepped inside, reaching his hand out for Angel. Angel reluctantly took the offered hand and joined Spike under the hot water. The cascade of warmth was a shock to Angel’s system. He had been so cold in the box, he had found himself wishing he were back in Hell, at least in Hell he had never been cold.

Spike had lathered a washrag with a sweet smelling soap and began washing over Angel’s wounds. Some of the oldest wounds had begun to heal, but the more blood he had lost the slower his healing process had been. He was sure that none of the bites he had received in the last month had healed at all. Spike next took Angel’s head and placed it directly under the pulsing stream of water, then he began to massage his scalp with his nails. Spike ran light circles through his Sire’s hair working the shampoo into a rich foam. When he thought he had gotten most of the sand that had collected there over the past months he rinsed Angel’s tender head and stood under the warm stream for a moment himself. After a perfunctory scrubbing of his own body Spike stepped out of the shower and grabbed a pair of towels from the nearby rack.

Angel looked so much smaller to Spike now than he had ever remembered him being. The lack of blood had thinned him to the point of being gaunt. It reminded him of the first time he had seen him in Sunnydale, a century of rarely feeding, and almost never on human blood had made him almost sleek. He had not at all been the looming presence Angelus had been. Now once again, Spike wondered what had become of the Sire he dreamt of. The huge and powerful vampire that he had loved when he was truly still William disappeared. He had faded away to a mere shell of himself.

Spike ran the soft towel over Angel’s body, trying to not press into the open cuts. Once both of them were sufficiently dried off, Spike led Angel to the bed. He threw back the covers and eased Angel into a reclining position. Spike then joined him under the silken coverlet. Without a word he laid Angel onto his side and nestled his own head onto the same pillow. Spike then bent his head giving Angel access to his neck. When Angel hesitated Spike reached behind him and took Angel’s hand. With a gentle squeeze he pulled the arm over his waist, effectively bringing Angel closer. Spike then dragged a sharp fingernail across the side of his neck, instantly a small rivulet of blood trickled out of the fresh wound. Spike heard the satisfying sound of Angel licking his lips.

Angel’s will power was fading as fast as his strength. He bent his head down and felt his teeth sharpen. He rested his lips over Spike’s neck, lightly running his tongue along the cut. It was the blood of his Childe, and yet blood he had never tasted. Angelus had had the pleasure many times, but Angel never had. He savored the salted liquid as it ran over his tongue. After a few moments of gentle lapping Angel’s grip on Spike’s hand grew stronger and Spike felt the sharp piercing of his jugular vein. A river of blood filled Angel’s mouth as fast as he could drink it. Angel swallowed greedily. He felt the powerful blood of his line course through his body, healing it as it touched each wound. The blood of Aurelius was strong and potent like no other he had ever tasted. Darla had given him that gift, a gift he had shared with so few. And now, more than two centuries later he was receiving the gift again, from the only one of his line left to give it too him.

William. Spike. He did not even know who was sharing his bed, or why. How had he known, how could he have known how badly I needed him? Angel had so many questions, buried in his childe’s neck lie so many questions. Spike let out a soft moan as if hearing Angel’s thoughts. Angel was brought out of his reverie and released his grip on Spike’s neck. He gave a tender last lick over the holes he had torn, again Spike moaned and leaned further into his Sire’s chest.

"Did have one, until Holtz came and I had to blow it up, funny story really, I’ll have to tell you sometime when I’m not coughing up blood." Angel leaned more of his weight onto Spike’s shoulder and let the smaller man help him to the stair railing. "I can take it from here."

"Not beating around the bushes are we, Pet? No, why would you." Spike gave a little half smile. "I’m going to tell you, I want to tell you everything. But this isn’t the place, for one thing, you’ll be wanting a seat, and for another, I think we better find out who your mate Gunn is yelling at in the lobby."

Angel had been so worried about making it down the stairwell intact he hadn’t even noticed the yelling match that was going on downstairs until he heard Fred scream. Spike ran down the stairs two at a time while his sire crept along the railing. When they reached the bottom Fred started jumping up and down then ran to hug Angel.

"I don’t believe you. You knew where we were going, obviously. Where’s Justine? Did she hurt Cordelia?" He shook the small form beneath him as he spoke. Angel could feel the fury growing in his chest. He had thought of Cordelia constantly while in his watery prison, wanting nothing more than to be with her. Now he was home, back at the hotel, and she was not here. The pain was overwhelming, and he was determined to take it out on the person responsible, even if it was his son..

"Nothing! We never even talked about her. I didn’t care about her, it wasn’t about Cordelia. I just wanted to make you pay for killing my father! Justine said that if I loved him I would kill you, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to kill you. Killing was too good, too easy. You don’t deserve to die, Angelus." Connor hissed the words in Angel’s face.

"You’re right, dying would be easy. Too easy. And I do deserve to be punished for a million things I did as Angelus, but I did not kill Holtz. He was alive and kicking when I left that hotel room. He gave me the letter, you read it yourself, you know he wrote it. He said he would leave. He said I had a second chance with you." Angel was shaking now, both from the emotion and the physical exertion of holding down the still struggling body beneath him. The other three people in the room looked on, not knowing what to do.

"You," Spike pointed at Connor, "don’t even think about moving." Spike let his demon face briefly flash to emphasize his point and smiled when it had a satisfactory effect on the boy. The two men then half carried Angel back up the stairs and got him settled into his bed again. Gunn made a fast exit and headed down to guard Fred.

"I’m going to tell you a little story, Connor. And it’s not all pleasant, in fact most of it is quite gruesome. When I get to the end you’re going to have some conflicting ideas about your Da’. You see Angel is an interesting fellow, much more interesting than Angelus ever was I’m sure."

"Yep, and your bitch of a mother." The vampire watched his young charge for a reaction. "You are truly lucky to have never met her. The stories I tell you about Darla are much less interesting, they do tend to lead to blood and death though, so I’ll be sure to save those for a bedtime story some night when you’ve been bad."

"You don’t know the half of it, and pray you never do. I heard the tales my whole unlife. The pair of them decimated entire villages, starting with Angelus’s hometown. They killed his family and Darla helped him kill just about every bint he ever had as a mortal. She was a bit of the jealous sort. After they had laid waste to Ireland they just made a beeline for London, to meet up with the Master."

"The Master was the one who turned your mum. Met him a couple times, creepy bat like guy. Not really an integral part of the story, other than the fact that the Order of Aurelius used him as a bit of a figure head for centuries, right up to the point where Buffy killed him a few years back."

"Of Aurelius. You and I, little brother, we have the blood of Aurelius in our veins. It’s what makes us that little bit keener than others, makes our hearing a little better, our eyes a little sharper. For a vampire, it means you don’t end up serving as a minion for a stronger vamp. For a pissant like you, it means you have the strength to take down one of the strongest vampires in the world and live to tell about it. Mind you, if you were anyone else, human or not, it never would have happened. Angel wouldn’t kill you, but he could, and you’d do real well to remember that." Spike moved from the desk and pulled the large chair around to the front. He sat down, still facing Connor and continued with his story.

"This is where the story takes some bloody unusual turns. Angelus and Darla piss off the next century in Europe, Africa, parts of Russia. This is the part you know, late 18th Century, Holtz on their heels, mayhem. Then your step-dad disappears, just stops following them, so they have to find new ways to amuse themselves. Angelus really honed his torture skills during these years. They took to bringing each other presents. Finding the perfect kill, even turned a few here and there. Mostly it was just the two of them, minions now and then, but nobody entered the inner circle."

"They were, but Angel will be the first to tell you it wasn’t love. Funny thing about vampires. We retain more of our human selves than you might think. See, Angel, when he was human, Liam he was called, well Liam was not a lover. He had women every night, but he never loved them. he drank, he brawled, he fucked. That was his whole existence. To hear Darla tell it, that was why she picked him. He had no morals as a human, he made the perfect vampire. He was completely loyal to his sir, but never confuse loyalty with love. It had nothing to do with love."

"Now here’s the funny part, Angelus did not love, but he could obsess with the best of them. He studied religiously, languages, other demons, magic, you name it. He was ready for anything, could speak and read almost anything, so he obsessed, and when he got bored he would just find someone to torture. So anyway, they come back to London after a few decades of this random feed, torture, move on phase. Darla sees this girl, Drusilla, out on the town with her sisters and starts hunting her, but she was a bit of a seer and a virgin. So Darla gets a bug in her bonnet that she should be for Angelus. Well he goes nuts for her, follows her around town, kills her family while she watches, fucks Darla practically in her lap, rips her mind apart, makes her just insane."

"Oh, we are paying attention. No he didn’t kill her. He set her free. She thought she could join a convent and live insanely ever after. So Angelus waits until the night she takes her vows. He snuck into the convent, because he has this thing for nuns that goes back way farther than Drusilla, and he kills all the women living in her cell, then he drains her right in front of the little chapel in her room. Then he turned her. He made her a vampire so she would suffer forever. Her beauty preserved forever, but her mind long gone. This is where you say ‘That’s diabolical Batman.’ No, okay, easy to forget you aren’t exactly a TV generation kid."

"Angelus and Darla dragged her around for a couple decades, then they grew tired of her. The sight is useful to a vampire, but the babbling made them start to feel the pinprick of insanity too. So, one day I’m at a little party in London, having a pint with some mates and I see this girl. Cecily, gorgeous woman, I went weak in the knees. I started waggling invitations to all the dos she would be at, basically drooling at her feet. I was in university, thought she might want a fellow with a brain, started writing some bloody awful poetry and slipping it into her bag when she wasn’t looking. My mates thought that was a right good time, took to calling me William the Bloody, it wasn’t a term of endearment exactly. So I finally think I’ve wooed this girl, she’ll be all ripe with want after reading the sonnets of my heart and all that blather. I get the balls to ask her out, she told me I was beneath her, breaks my heart right in front of my mates." Spike shifted in his seat remembering the mortal he had been.

"I ran outside, and literally ran over Angelus. I tried not to look up, but I could feel him watching me as I walked away. Really I was feeling Drusilla’s eyes. She was lonely, Angelus and Darla were sick to death of her. They told her to go make herself a playmate, what they meant was babysitter. She followed me down the road, came and sat beside me. She was lovely, these big knowing eyes, she told me I would be something special someday. Then she kissed me. Just like that. In those days no one but a harlot would just kiss a stranger full on. So here I am, shocked to the core, this ravishing goddess is kissing me, I’ve just been shot down, and she is practically swallowing me. I look up at her, opening my eyes just a little, afraid if I say anything she’s going to disappear. Then I notice we’re being watched. So then I’m torn between virtue and hard on. Do I stop kissing her and tell this voyeur to sod off, or do I keep kissing her and just watch him? He was so large, I mean tall, powerful, he just exuded sensuality. He watched us with this little lilt of his lip, it kind of curled as Dru licked at my mouth. I wasn’t even paying attention to her anymore, just watching him."

"Yes, Angelus." Spike laughed. "I was so busy looking into those deep chocolate eyes, I didn’t even see Drusilla’s face change until her fangs were almost in my neck. The last thing I remember hearing before I died was ‘Daddy, I don’t know how to do it.’ and him answering, ‘Here Dru, we’ll do it together.’

"Near as I can tell. I woke up four days later in a cemetery, dug my way out of a coffin and the first face I saw was Angelus. For the next week he showed me how to feed, how to kill safely without drawing attention, and he beat me. He beat me half senseless. He told me I was only there to take care of Drusilla, and that if I couldn’t he would stake me that night. Mind you, I hadn’t even seen Drusilla since I woke up. He had locked her away somewhere in this huge house in the London countryside. I could here her screaming every now and again that I was hers and he was not to hurt me. Angelus would just laugh and beat me again, harder because she tried to protect me."

"Yeah, we killed, tortured, played." Spike leaned closer, his expression changing to a serious one. "Connor, I don’t want you to think Angel misses it. He doesn’t. He hates that part of himself. But that doesn’t mean he forgets. He remembers every kill, every scream. Every device he ever used to torture his victims. He hears them all when he closes his eyes."

"You think you’re so smart, don’t you? You think being a vampire is just about the blood, that it’s so simple. Maybe for some it is, but not for us. It was never just about the kill, it was about the hunt, the passion, the chase." Spike stood again. "That need never goes away. That desire. But no, to answer your question, I don’t feed on humans anymore. Haven’t for a while now. Which is why I’m sporting this fabulous famine victim chic. It’s all the rage in Africa, I was just there, I know."

"Well, he went there on his own, word is he had heard of this shaman, really a powerful demon, who could raise the dead, etcetera. So, he goes to Africa, finds him, then Spike spent the night fighting the demon’s lackeys. The only reason Wolfram & Hart heard about it was that he wasn’t exactly stealthy marching through the villages on his way. The locals knew he wasn’t human, raised a big stink, bit of a hoodoo mob, if you will. The sudden influx of spells and incantations peaked our seers interest so we sent some sweepers to get the what’s what."

"Big lot of nothing, as in serious lack of vampires. There wasn’t a vamp within a hundred miles of the demon’s cave. All the demon would tell our ‘persuaders’ was that Spike had wanted his soul back to take care of the Slayer. Now you know Buffy better than I do, of course, but I don’t imagine she needs a lot of taking care of in the make me breakfast way. So Spike must be thinking of a way to kill her, that fighting without a soul would have made harder."

"Not anything exciting, just an uneventful boat ride across the Pacific landing here in sunny LA. Stewards said he kept to his room, they heard crying, but never any company, he never ate on deck. So either he’s having guilt or was overcome with joy to have his soul back."

"Dammit Lilah!" Wesley slammed his hand on the table, knocking his fork to the floor. "This isn’t a game. Fred said Angel never met up with Cordelia at Point Dume. Since her car was found on the side of the freeway and there was no sign of struggle or of the car even breaking down, I’m inclined to believe this was something more mystical than normal."

Spike opened the door to Angel’s room slowly. He had hoped to find him awake and alert, but was not surprised to find him sleeping fitfully. His sire’s large form shuddered under the thick blankets. He made soft groans each time he rolled over or shifted his torn body. Spike kicked his heavy black boots off and placed them on the other side of the bed. He then crawled under the covers and placed a calming hand against Angel’s cheek. The larger vampire seemed to relax at the touch instantly. He reached out and clung to Spike’s waist, pulling him closer. Spike continued to stroke at Angel’s soft cheek and hair that still needed another washing.

"Fair ‘nough. So a few months ago, no longer than that. Last year, Buffy and I kissed." Spike felt the head in his lap jump a little. "I told her I loved her, and it just happened, kind of out of the blue like. She was having an impossible time dealing with being ripped out of Heaven. Can’t say I blame her. I mean, being ripped out of Hell was probably as pleasant as that was painful."

"So it gets better." Spike paused trying to find a delicate way to continue. "So this happened a couple times, the kissing. Then one night, Buffy starts going off on me, I’m an evil soulless thing, blather. I hit her. And it didn’t hurt. The chip didn’t activate. So little William goes bananas, thinks he’s getting a four course meal that night. But I can’t do it. Can’t bite anyone. Had some wankers check the chip, still working, still emitting little shots out to my brain around humans. But. not. Her. Not Buffy."

"No, no, nothing like that. We got in a fight, and let me tell you she was right pissed that I could fight back. So we fight, literally tearing the walls down in this wreck of a house near the Magic Box. She’s taunting and whining and throwing me across the room, good time all round." Spike was the only one smiling. "So I asked her if I was hurting her, ‘cause I really didn’t want to, kind of going on instinct at that point. She said I wasn’t even close to hurting her, then she kisses me. I mean hard. Pinned me against the wall. Then she tosses me to the other side of this room that’s about to cave in, jumps up into my arms, tosses her skirt to one side and undoes my zipper. Angel I’m telling you, she just whips me out of my trousers and slides right on. Not another word between us. She just starts riding me, pushing me where she wants me. Then we fell through the floor, and she just kept on going the whole way down. I thought for sure the back of my skull gave out when we landed, and she just kept going, almost all night. It was so unreal. Here I am, with the woman I’m totally in love with, I wanted her like I haven’t wanted another person in ages, and she says to me when it’s over and she’s looking for her knackers, that she loved you. YOU! That I was just convenient. Then she punched me in the head and took off."

"That’s kind of where the story gets to be more like old times, mate." Spike shifted in his spot trying to relax before going on. "She came to me a bunch more times. She’d tell the scoobies she was patrolling and come over for a bit of the rough and tumble. It was always wild, always different. She was like a caged beast, she couldn’t get enough. Every time she’d say it was the last time, but every time I went to her she let me back in. Then the soldier boy came back."

"Yeah, so Agent Finn comes back with this dish of a wife, perfect demon hunting life, whatever, upsets Buffy to no end. She actually walks into my crypt and asks me if I love her? Which of course I do, we make love. I mean, tender soft moans and chocolate kisses love for the first time. It was like the first time. Totally new, I could have died in that moment Angel, and in walks Finn. Finds us arm in arm, sound asleep. So she freaks, because of course she hasn’t told anyone that she’s a vampire groupie. Then there were grenades and demon eggs and that part’s not so interesting."

"Ok, so she breaks it off. I was pissed, went a bit shag happy after Xander and Anya’s wedding, I mean, non-wedding, since the ponce bailed before the I do’s. So I was upset, Buffy kept coming to my crypt, I think just to see if I suffered like you did when she wasn’t around. She’ll really make someone a very nice dominatrix someday. So she comes over one night and says that she knows my feelings are real, blah blah, drives the invisible stake in a bit deeper. So I went to the Magic Box to get some sort of numbing spell, for me, to try to get some of her out of my system. Instead I find Anya and Cecily chatting it up."

"That’d be the one, here’s a funny side-note, she was in London all those years ago to wreak a little vengeance, seems her and Anyanka go way back, like eight hundred years, her name is really Halfrek, and I was never beneath her, she was just there to turn some guys insides into horse dung. Ain’t love grand."

"That’s kind of the end of the sordid part. These wannabe super villains had planted cameras in the magic shop, Red had tapped into it and let Xander and Buffy watch the show. So for some reason , can’t imagine really, Xander thinks it’s his business, even though he left Anya at the altar. He comes over to the shop straight away and swings an axe at my head. Buffy shows up all noble and keeps Xander from dusting me. Not really the cheeriest scene I’ve ever been in."

"You know you sound like the slayer’s kid sis. I didn’t do it to hurt her! I was just trying to move on. She kept telling me to move on. So I went to her house to try to say I was sorry. I got upset, I didn’t see she was already hurting from some vamp giving her a rough time. I expected her to give me a shove off and I’d go, but she couldn’t fight back, I thought she wanted me to.. No. I know she didn’t want it. I wanted her so bad, I tried to make her. She stopped me and I left. I wouldn’t have hurt her. I know I wouldn’t have."

"No, I couldn’t. Chip or not, I don’t want her like that. I went home, it was all I could think of. It kept playing through my head like a movie. Her screaming and begging me not to hurt her. Oh, Angel it hurt so bad. I never wanted to hurt her like that. I kept thinking that it was just the chip. I would never have been there without the chip. It wouldn’t let me have my own thoughts. All I heard in my head were Buffy’s screams." Spike had tears running down his cheeks now.

"Holtz taught me to read. We had more spare time than you might think. We would huddle in a cage and he would go over the letters again and again. He loved me. He wanted...it was a good distraction. He would tell me about England and the books he had read when he was my age. I can read." He raised a small hand to his face and covered his eyes.

"Find Cordy of course. Spike said you didn’t know where she was, and I guess if he believes you, I’m going to, too. But if you don’t know where she is, and Angel doesn’t, and Wesley hasn’t figured anything out, then we are going to hit the books." Fred handed the boy a small pile of books.

"You’re going to read every page looking for anything that sounds plausible. Mystical disappearances, any other humans, or demons that had the same abilities as Cordelia, like the glowy thing, or the visions, or how when she hugged you, you let some of your rage go, although obviously not enough. Anything that might explain where she went."

"Made me fight a couple of baddies, let some bugs pick at me, took a couple torches to my chest, little trials really, coulda done it in my sleep." Angel knew he was lying, but didn’t press the issue. Spike kicked off his boots and took off his over-shirt revealing a tight black t-shirt. "The soul hit me like a ton of bricks, the pain, there was plenty of screaming, and I don’t think it was all mine, I could hear the voices of a hundred years. I sat in that cave for days just crying."

"Angel, I didn’t come here to make you feel guilty, remember, happiness clause not an issue for me. It hurts, I’d be lying my ass off if I said it didn’t. But, I think what hurts more than all the death and mayhem that followed me around for the last hundred and twenty years or so, is that I have hurt people I loved. The strangers, the victims, I’m not jumping through hoops, but y’know, Evil. It’s what I did to you and Dru, and Buffy. That’s what burns."

"But I did Spike. I did! When they cursed me, at first I thought I was still in Galway, I expected to see the pub there and my friends, it took hours for it to hit me that it had been more than a century since I rose out of that grave. Then I saw Darla and she threw me out, she told me I was unclean and that she couldn’t stand the smell of my soul. That’s when all the memories just flooded me. My life with her, the hundreds of people we had killed and tortured. I couldn’t reconcile it in my own mind. I just felt like Liam." He tried to turn his head to hide the glaze forming over his eyes but Spike grabbed his face and held it.

"That didn’t happen to me, okay. I was still me, I remembered everything, but I didn’t lose anything. It wasn’t until the boat ride back to the states that I felt like William at all." He let go of Angel’s face but did not put any distance between them. "I was just sitting in this little cabin, I didn’t have any blood to drink and I wasn’t about to start eating the rats, so I was just burning inside, you know that hunger."

"Oh, yeah guess you do. So I sat there trying to figure out what I was feeling, it was such a rush, I wanted to get back to Sunnydale, I wanted to march up Buffy’s steps and say ‘Look, I have a soul, does it change anything?’ I wanted to find Dru and say ‘look, I’m just like Daddy, soul and all.’ But the more I thought about it, I realized what I need more than anything was to come here. To be in this moment, with you."

"With you. I just wanted to tell you that I wasn’t sorry that you made me a vampire. That I would have been miserable if I had stayed in London. William the bloody awful poet. He would have married some horrid London townie and ended up working in the presses until he died a miserable death, with no money, no one who loved him. William was better off dying at twenty-six than he ever would have been at seventy." Spike ran a hand along his sire’s jaw. "Thank you."

"Thank you Angel." Spike leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "In my life I have loved two women deeply and completely. I needed them both, and Drusilla at least needed me. They both gave me more than any English bint ever would have. I was defined for a hundred years by the women that I loved. But now, it’s different."

"Angel, I have my soul back. My soul the one that lets me be William if I want to. The soul that tells me I am an individual, not just a vampire, it reminds me of the man I was. The man that died in an alleyway watching you. Wanting you to be the one taking me. I looked into your eyes and saw an eternity. I had no fear when Drusilla fed on me, because you were there. Like you always were after that. After Rumania, after China. Even when you were lost to us, you were there."

"Bollocks." Spike kissed him again, harder this time. "You wanted me, like I wanted you. You cannot tell me that in a hundred years apart you never thought of me. You and I Angel, we are forever, we are the only ones like us. That’s why I came here, that’s why I pulled you out of that bleedin’ box. I had to be with you. You are the only one left that remembers William. You’re the only one left that knows the real me, the man. I need you to let me be a man, if I can’t be, then soul or not, all I am is a vampire."

"You’re more than that." whispered Angel. He let his dark eyes fall to Spike’s hungry blue ones and brushed his cheek against the blonde’s soft lashes. He felt himself falling. Falling into the vastness of Spike’s longing, the vastness of eyes that knew him better than any creature on earth. He leaned into his childe’s warmth and let his lips brush against the inviting mouth next to him. Spike parted his lips letting his tongue trace the outline of his sire’s mouth, pulling him closer, taking in the scent of fresh soap mixed with the lingering aroma of salt water. Two sets of muscled arms fought for control. Both men gripped at the other’s shirts, grasping at rippling back muscles and pulling their bodies closer together. Spike was careful to not rub against the bite marks that lined the larger form of his sire. He kissed the small wounds around Angel’s neck and face, occasionally returning to his waiting mouth to take in a deep kiss.

Angel and Spike had rushed down the stairs behind Fred trying to catch the few words left intelligible in her excitement. "And then it said something about the glowing...could take away anger...evolving...The Axis of Pythia can bring her back...an I’m sorry I can’t stop." Fred took a breath and sat down in a chair, then she stood up again and shoved a book in front of Angel.

"Alright, we were trying to find out what kind of demon the Powers turned Cordelia into and Connor came across this section in the Twilight Compendium on demons who get visions. We ruled out Bracken demons, cause, ya know, no spiky things, then I found another bit about demons who radiate light when they manifest their powers and then when we started cross referencing in Hume’s guide to Paranormal Activities there was a section on humans who become part demon and then..."

"Well, after Cordelia’s birthday she had said that Skip was her ‘demon guide’ when she went through her change." Fred interjected, "He showed her what her life would have been like without having met Angel. So it only makes sense that he would be keeping track of her."

It had taken Angel nearly an hour to convince Spike he was well enough to take a second trip into the fun little demon dimension. The first twenty minutes had involved rational talk. The next twenty minutes was mostly Spike punching him in the ribs asking ‘Does this hurt?’. The last ten or so were mostly Angel punching Spike back asking the same question.

Now, here he was walking the dark halls looking for a demon that he was fairly sure wouldn’t be glad to see him again. Angel walked into the fiery room where he had first met Skip, the room was empty. He exited out and wandered farther down the hall. He came to a large wooden door and heard voices inside. Since Angel was not exactly at his peak fighting level he decided surprise would be better than a polite knock and turned the handle.

Inside the room sat the familiar form of Skip, the sharp points of his armor and bronze skin just as he had remembered. He was accompanied by several other demons, all similarly dressed. They sat on two couches made of a rough material, clearly the entire group was enthralled by the television they were watching.

"You know I’m really not a messenger. In fact I’ve got a whole new job description since the last time you were here." Skip stood back up fully, looking a little peeved. "I got docked two weeks pay when you marched out of here with Billy. Then I got put on probation, now I’m just showing new demons the ropes, I’m like a tour guide. It’s kind of embarrassing to introduce yourself as Skip the tour guide you know. I feel like I should be wearing mouse ears or something."

"She’s only part demon. Cordelia is a powerful lady. The powers gave her the whole gamut of powers. The visions and anger management were only the beginning. Her body couldn’t temper that much raw energy without giving out. Even as a half demon it would have eventually been too much for her."

"No, we didn’t take away her humanity any more than your little demon took yours. We just put her in a place where the forces within her would mesh with the space around her. The Powers didn’t want to kill her Angel. They wanted to make her better. In the end it was her choice."

"Look, she’s on a higher plane now Angel, she’s evolved into a higher being. To rip her off of that plane would kill her. She’s become one with her surroundings like Nero in The Matrix. Her every thought affects her surroundings, she changes her environment and it changes her."

"That makes sense, I mean with what we all read in the books. There was evidence that some half demons eventually disappear from this plane when their powers get to be great. I was looking for a reason that Cordelia would have left, when really I should have been looking for a way to get her back. In mythology the Pythians worshipped the serpent, believing the Serpent God held his coil around the world’s axis holding it in place as was his will. So I took into account the Lund Model of the Pythian axis which says that if you use Delta Zeta as a commonblock and follow pi to an axis of unknown origin you can find the point where the earth meets the heavens. Or in our case it could be used to find any other plane on the same axis as the earth. So if Cordy’s powers are linked to the earth, like the visions were, relating to people and all, it makes sense that the higher plane Skip told you about would be an earth-bound plane. So all we need is the Axis of Pythia to calculate the axis point from where Cordelia ascended, then figure out how high above us her higher plane is." Fred took a deep breath. "It should be pretty easy."

"No Spike, I’m really not sure. I’m going to call Wesley and ask him to research that aspect of it, cause I really can’t read anymore of the books we have here. I’m going to head over to UCLA and see if I can use their physics center’s computers to work out the math." Fred walked to her office and started to gather up her laptop and a few books.

Fred turned around with an armful of books. "Angel look at those." She gestured to another pile of books on the desk. "I can’t read them, I’ve tried, Connor tried, even Spike looked at a few. We can’t read them, and even if we could it would take us days. Everyday Cordelia is gone it will be harder to get her back."

"But you couldn’t read Gushundi, could you? Or Niazian? Angel you can’t read them all. I know you don’t trust Wesley and I can’t blame you." Fred set the books down and grabbed a canvas bag from the coat rack. She placed the bag in Angel’s hands and began loading it while she continued. "Sometimes you just have to let people help you, even when you don’t want to. You taught me that. Sometimes you just have to trust and have a little faith."

"Angel, what he did was try to save your son. All the anger in the world isn’t going to change the fact that he took Connor because he thought you were going to kill him. Maybe you ought to think about that before you lose his help forever." She pushed past him and opened the door. "Now I am going to the university and I AM going to call Wesley, and I am going to find a way to get Cordelia back. Now you go upstairs and rest."

Angel had reluctantly let himself be led back to his room by his over-eager childe. Once inside the room Angel had taken a seat in a soft chair while Spike checked the heavy drapery to make sure the sun wasn’t peaking through. Once satisfied they were in no danger of spontaneously combusting Spike joined his sire at the small sitting area.

"Slow down ramjet. I think you should give the pixie a chance, she seems to know what she’s doing. If this Axis of Pythia thing doesn’t work, we’ll tear this town apart looking for another way, okay." Spike joined the dark haired vampire in his pacing. After a couple more lengths across the deep burgundy carpet with Spike matching his every move Angel stopped the pacing and laughed.

"Yeah, I’ll stop shadowing you if you’ll sit down and rest like you were told." Angel made no move, so Spike inched closer to the brooding form of his sire, flashing his most devilish grin. "You know, Peaches, she did say I could sit on you if you wouldn’t behave."

"I do say, a dare! Why it’s been ages since you dared me to do anything. Remember in Lisbon? The countess? I believe that was a dare. When was that, let me think, maybe 1885. I was still pretty wet behind the ears. You dared me to walk up to her at a party and ask for permission to nibble on her neck." Spike moved closer yet towards his sire. "If memory serves, I did just that. She was outwardly flabbergasted and made a great show of having me thrown out of the party, and escorted to her private carriage. Out she came not twenty minutes later, she had already unbuttoned her high collar exposing that creamy skin. She asked if I had been born with such a lecherous tongue, to which I replied I had been reborn for no other purpose than to nip at her beautiful neck. Do remember sire, watching through the carriage slats as she bared her neck willingly to me. She was still warm with wine and dance when I slipped my fangs into that silken flesh."

Spike took the last step he needed to be up against his sire’s body. He whispered into Angel’s ear. "She moaned like a whore when you opened the carriage door and joined us. I remember how you slid onto the bench next to us and bit into her wrist, slowing the flow from my own incision just that little bit. Do you remember that dare Angelus? Do you ever think of it? Because I do. I don’t remember ever not taking one of your challenges before. Why should today be any different?"

"Boy, you couldn’t take me, even beaten and torn as I am. You haven’t exactly got all of your strength these days either. You couldn’t take me. Unless I let you." Angel reached a hand up to trace a line across the blonde’s angular cheek, letting the hand rest in the short curls that formed around his childe’s neck.

Cordelia had been in a fantasy. She had seen Spike walk up the stairs of the Hyperion. He had marched into Angel’s rooms like it was the most natural place he could be. She had watched him join Angel at the settee and talk, then they had walked around, Angel looking frantic, Spike looking smug. Then there had been a little light shoving and Spike had pressed himself against Angel’s body. Cordelia couldn’t hear the words they said, she only saw their movements. Unlike her recent visions, where she felt she was becoming the person she was sent to help, in this vision she only felt her own emotions.

Cordelia was terrified of Spike, even though she had heard he had a chip that made him moderately harmless, she had not seen him since he had and Drusilla had taken Angel captive and performed the ritual of Elegon on him. She thought for a moment, considering herself lucky, many of her friends had had encounters with the blonde vampire after that, but she had not. Drusilla and Angelus yes, but luckily not Spike.

And now, here he was, in Angel’s room. Standing in the same spot she had stood so many times, with the man she loved. Cordelia was in the room, of the room, but standing still, and Spike was there. Spike was with Angel, and Angel was touching him on the cheek, and toying with his curls, and now Spike was standing on his toes, tilting his head to reach Angel’s soft lips. Spike was standing still in her spot. He was having the moment Cordelia had been meant to have before the Powers had tricked her into leaving her life on earth behind. Spike was kissing Angel, and she was being forced to watch. Cordelia had no choice in what visions she was shown, no choice whose life she was forced to watch. It seemed the cruelest of jokes that the Powers would show her how quickly Angel had replaced her, and with another vampire no less.

Cordelia began to cry, although no one could hear, she cried tears no one could see, and wailed to a god she knew was not there to let her out of the vision. Let her not see Angel take the smaller man’s hand and pull him onto his bed. Let her not see the man she loved take another man into a lover’s embrace. Let her not see him take off the silken shirt he wore, to reveal a chest that was shredded and bruised. Let her not see Spike kiss the small wounds that covered Angel’s body. Let her not see him lay his head back on the pillow and close his eyes as his childe explored his body, leaving a glimmering trail as his tongue became reacquainted with the skin he had not tasted in so long.

Angel had watched in awe as Spike had run over his chest with careful kisses. He had managed to find every tender spot left on his body, avoiding those places that were still too sensitive to touch. Spike was thoroughly enjoying the soft moans his sire gave as he ran his tongue across the soft flesh of his nipples. Angel was ready for a fresh onslaught of pleasure as the blonde began to untie the drawstring on his silken pants when Spike suddenly stopped and stood up.

"Fine, whatever." Angel laid all the way down and slipped his hands under the pillow to give his childe access to his entire torso. Spike soaked a large cotton ball with the peroxide and watched it foam as he placed it to the numerous wounds on Angel’s broad chest. He then wiped up the clear drops that made their way down his sides and began the lengthy task of placing bandages over the worst of them. Once he was satisfied with the job he had done, Spike rolled Angel over and tended to the bites on his back. Luckily, the fish had had a rougher time getting under Angel than up his shirt and so the task at hand went much quicker than the first had.

"I was not brooding. You stopped at a very inopportune moment. I was simply voicing my displeasure." Angel gave his childe a little pout. "You should just be grateful it’s me you’re dealing with, had you ever tried to pull that Florence Nightingale crap with me a century ago you would have found yourself hanging from the rafters for a week."

"Sure, you’re right. Angelus is a bastard, but the more I forgive, the more I forget. Besides he was hell in the sack." Spike nipped at Angel’s shoulder and quickly moved his hand to undo Angel’s trousers the rest of the way. Angel gave a soft growl of approval and arched his hips off the bed so Spike could pull them off. Once the silk material was safely around his ankles Angel relaxed back onto the mattress and let out a groan of relief. He was surprised that even after a full day out of the water, his muscles still ached at every movement.

Angel’s painful moan was not lost on Spike’s ears. He was sure to be as gentle as possible as his hands covered his sire’s tender body. He traced small circles over the hard muscles of his stomach, following the soft trail of dark hair that led to his favorite part of Angel’s body. Angel’s beautiful cock was glistening in anticipation as Spike bent his head to ravish his ever stiffening member. Spike growled with pleasure when his cold mouth made the body beneath him jolt. He ran a long trail with his cool tongue along the underside of his sire’s cock, drawing another moan from Angel’s lips.

"Spike...I" Angel tried to speak but was cut off when his fair haired childe engulfed his cock in the depths of his throat. Spike reached one hand up and lightly rubbed one of the dark nipples that dotted his sire’s chest. Angel in turn toyed with his other nipple. He began to arch his back, giving increasing moans of both pleasure and pain as successive jolts of feeling ran through his being. "Will, I want you." He finally said, concentrating hard to find the words in his ecstasy.

Spike pulled his mouth from it’s prey just long enough to answer "No." He then went back to his constant motion up and down Angel’s length. Spike swallowed hard trying to pull his sire deeper into his mouth. His tongue traced the tip and opening that darted in and out of his throat, catching the small droplets of warm liquid that escaped it. With his free hand Spike lightly swirled around the soft skin of his sire’s balls, much to the liking of the older vampire.

Spike again took Angel deep within the recesses of his throat and growled. The vibration made white light flash in front of Angel’s half closed eyes. He felt the urge to release building deep within his sack. Spike rolled the velvet skin in his palm letting his growls move from deep in his throat to the tip of his tongue. Angel’s own growls quickly turned to screams of pleasure as he bucked his hips wildly. He thrust into his childe’s soft mouth again and again, spraying the back of Spike’s throat with his saline essence. Spike savored the taste more than he ever could a mouthful of blood. If blood was life, this was the beginning of life. The fluid that created life, even coming from Angel’s dead shell, he felt the power that coursed through the thick liquid.

Wesley stood up and grabbed his own notepad from his desk and rejoined Fred on the couch. "I also found some indications that the Pythian theorem is based on mythological events not just scientific. I found one text that referred to an Axis, although it seemed to be an object not just an idea. So I’ll keep looking there and get back to you when I know more." He stood and headed for the door, expecting Fred to follow.

It had taken Gunn and Connor most of the day to find enough blood to keep Angel and Spike satisfied for the week. Once they were back at the Hyperion, they had placed a couple dozen of the bags in the refrigerator and left the rest on the counter. Gunn removed a couple of tall glasses from the cabinet above the coffee pot and emptied the contents of two bags into them.

"Bloody Hell, it’s about time." Spike threw the door open and grabbed the glasses from the two men. "I didn’t ask for it to be imported you know. Local vintage works just fine." Spike set the glasses down on the nightstand next to Angel and nudged for him to wake up.

"Sorry, sore spot?" Spike raised an eyebrow and grabbed the remaining bags of blood from his hands. Once he had carefully placed the precious bags in the small cooler near the sitting area, Spike took a seat on the bed. He leaned over to the larger vampire, who was still half asleep and whispered in his ear. "Time to get up love. Your faithful servant brought you dinner."

Angel sat up in the bed, letting the satin coverlet pool in his lap. He then grabbed the glass nearest him and placed the warm liquid to his lips. He savored the taste for a moment and drank greedily. He felt a renewed energy course through his veins with every drink, and before he knew it he had finished the glass. Angel ran the back of his hand across his lips and set the empty glass back down. He noticed Connor watching him and looked at the floor. "Thanks Gunn."

"Hey, give me a break, he was an infant for like three weeks, then he pops up a teenager, I get to know him for all of five days and he buried me at sea. Not exactly a lot of time for lesson plans and such." Angel picked one of the glasses off the nightstand and drank the last few drops of blood that had pooled at the bottom.

"Oh, ha, yes." Wesley looked up from his book. "This is the second reference to the Order of the Knights of Pythias. They’re an American fraternal institution with roots back to the Greek order that worshipped the god Apollo. It seems they have a history of calling up oracles called the Pythia’s that have the ability to see those trapped in the planes between the earth and the upper echelons of existence."

"Well, I think I have the longitude and latitude where Cordelia disappeared from down, as well as I can, that is. She was on the Santa Monica highway at about 34.0153 North latitude by 118.4926 West longitude. Now, if I can just find some reference to the fixed point I need to calculate the Axis of Pythia I’ll have something more concrete to run back through the program at the university."

"Yeah, just a second." Came the voice from inside Angel’s room. Connor had given up knocking after the third try. After several moments of rustling around Spike came to the door, wearing a pair of Angel‘s silk pajama bottoms. "Hey, sorry little brother, I was, uh, ya know indisposed." Spike flashed a sly grin, that he did not expect to be lost on Angel’s son, and pulled the drawstring of his pants tighter.

"Uh, gotcha. Fred just called, she said to tell you that she was going back to the university to do some more equations. She said it would be great fun and then she started talking about a bunch of Greek gods and a mountain being the key and I think something about an ostrich." Connor looked at Spike hoping the vampire would be able to interpret the message.

"A whole lot of nothing, that’s what. I’ll go back to Sunnydale and figure something out. Angel has his own life here, and I s’pose part of being family is knowing that even when you leave, you’re still family. Besides," Spike paused to make sure Connor was paying attention. "The sad part of life in this family is that you will all die before Angel and I will. That’s just the way it is. Angel and I are forever, Cordelia, Buffy, all of you, you just aren’t. That’s the price we pay."

"Look, pet, this is gonna turn into this whole existential conversation you might not be ready to have. An’ I don’t know that I’m the one you should be having it with anyway. Mr. Tall, dark and broody is better suited to convincing people immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But then, he’s been doing it a lot longer than I have."

"Yeah, he has a pretty much unending supply of forgiveness. Something to do with atonement for his own sins. Believe me, burying him at sea probably seemed real clever to you. Angelus would have thought you were an amateur." Spike put a hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly, trying to avoid waking the vampire sleeping within.

"Angel, your son just came up the stairs to tell me, your lover, that the physicist Texan and the baby stealing ex-watcher might have found a way to link the Greek gods and a freaking computer program together to bring back your half-demon would be vampire loving secretary, who gets visions from some alternate reality or whathaveyou. And you’re worried he won’t be able to handle you telling him he’s a naughty boy for throwing you in the Santa Monica pier. Give over."

"No, you’re right, I’m not gay, my boyfriend is. You dress like the poster boy for the Friends of Dorothy Coalition." Spike slid onto the carpet in front of Angel. "The only reason I am not your lover, of late that is, is because I wanted you to have a few days to heal. And lo’ and behold, you look just fine to me."

"Mmhmm." Answered a muffled voice. Angel lifted his hips off of the chair giving Spike room to slide his hands around his waistband and strip him of his undergarments. Spike ran a pointed tongue along his sire’s smooth chest, stopping at the few remaining gashes in his sides and gently kissing them. The younger vampire leaned into the strong chest and brushed his lips tenderly against the soft brown nipples that spotted it.

"Yes, Will, I’m your William. I never stopped being William. You have a tendency to forget that. Not me. I never forget. I want you like I’ve wanted you my whole life. Completely." Spike focused his eyes sharply on those of his sire, hoping he would see the hunger he felt. Angel did see it, and returned it in his own dark eyes as he pulled Spike off the floor and onto his lap. Muscled arms fought for control, pulling at each other, both men trying to swallow the other’s desire. Angel’s heavy erection rubbed against the silk of Spike’s pants in a torturous dance as his childe’s lithe form pressed against Angel’s.

"Spike, I want you too. Here, in LA, this isn‘t London, it‘s here, now." It was a simple declaration, but to the soul that was so recently reunited with Spike’s undead body it was an oath more powerful than any other. He grasped greedily at Angel’s soft curls pulling his full lips further inside his mouth. Spike let his tongue explore the blunt tips of his sire’s mouth, as if for the first time. He tried to remember every curve and valley of the body he had once known so intimately.

Angel could wait no longer. He hastily undid the drawstring that bound his childe’s swollen shaft and set it free. Once free of his restraints Spike began to moan and kiss Angel’s neck, nipping at earlobes and cheeks as he tried to find a comfortable position for his freshly naked body. Neither man could find an angle that suited them in the deeply cushioned chair, so they slid to the thick carpet as one. Angel laid himself flat on the plushness of the rug, grabbing a throw pillow from the nearby couch to rest his head on. He had no sooner got into position when he felt Spike’s sharp fangs pierce the skin of his inner thigh. Spike began to feed hungrily from the mark he had placed on his sire. Angel buried his fingers in Spike’s pale curls, and tried to guide his mouth to his swollen cock.

"Angel, get your hands off my ears, I know what I’m doing." Spike commanded. Angel removed his hands from his childe’s hair and instead brushed lightly against his own nipples, feeling his senses heighten with each stroke. At last Spike withdrew his mouth from Angel’s bloody thigh and lightly probed the tip of his erection. Angel let out a small cry and tugged at his nipples harder. Spike slowly began to take more and more of Angel’s length into his mouth, all the while inching his body away from Angel’s feet, and towards his chest. Seeing Spike’s intent Angel reached a strong hand out and began to massage Spike’s pale thighs with his strong fingers. He ran his hand in a line along the sensitive arteries near his lover’s stiffening cock a few times, then took the shaft into a tight grip.

Spike let out his own moan of pleasure as he felt Angel’s hands urging his hips towards a waiting mouth. Spike was not disappointed when Angel moved one of his thin legs to the other side of his face and swallowed his entire length in one swift move. The fair haired vampire nearly lost track of his own rhythm as Angel began a rapid pace, sucking deeply on the tip of his cock and lightly squeezing the sensitive sacs that were already beginning to spasm in anticipation of orgasm.

Spike felt his legs begin to give out as their trembling worsened, he knew he would not be able to hold on much longer, and so began to quicken his own pace. He nipped greedily at the warm flesh in his mouth, he ran a wide tongue along the shaft and head as he caressed it lightly with one hand. With his other hand he kneaded at the firm muscles that led to his sire’s beautiful ass. Angel raised his hips slightly, encouraging his childe’s exploration. Spike took no time wetting two fingers and pressing them to Angel’s tight opening. He waited for Angel’s thighs to relax for just a second and felt the tight muscle open just enough to allow him passage. Spike pressed deep within his sire’s warmth brushing lightly against the edge of his prostate. He continued to suckle Angel’s cock as he pushed deeper inside, delighting when he felt Angel’s fingers enter his own ass. Spike bucked back against the long fingers that filled him, nearly pulling his erection out of his lover’s skilled mouth.

Spike slowly let Angel’s cock fall from his mouth. "Angel, please, I can’t wait any longer." Angel slowly pulled his fingers from their warm home and let Spike’s glorious length slide from his lips. "Okay." He answered through numbed lips. Angel spread his legs wide and wrapped his hand around his neglected length. It was still slick with Spike’s chilled saliva and slid easily in and out of his grasp. Angel arched his back and beckoned to his childe to come closer. Spike wet his fingers once more and slid them into his lover. Once he was satisfied the older vampire had stretched enough to accommodate him, Spike moved in closer. He pulled Angel’s knees up to his chest and carefully placed his erection against his sire’s opening. Spike slowly entered his lover’s body and let out a soft growl. Angel pressed his shoulders back into the deep carpet and arched his back even more. Spike placed both hands under Angel’s hips and lifted him off the ground. The new angle allowed him to press his entire length into the welcoming tightness.

"Ahh, Spike." Angel began to speak, but was soon lost in the moment. Spike leaned forward and kissed him hungrily. Angel welcomed the distraction, afraid he would lose himself completely in the moment. "Will, no, Spike, oh gods." Angel bucked wildly feeling Spike’s cock come painfully close to his prostate with every thrust, yet just miss it. Spike continued to move in shallow bursts, teasing the larger vampire more each time, pulling almost all the way out, then moving just a few inches inside his lover. Spike felt his own climax growing closer and so began to thrust deeper. Now he caught the magic organ with each burying of his length and Angel began to make the beloved guttural sounds he remembered with such longing. Spike pounded a furious rhythm into his lover, joining the chorus Angel was making with his own grunts and growls.

At last Spike could wait no more and felt his entire being begin to shake as he filled Angel’s tight channel with his cool seed. He nearly cried the feeling was so intense as Angel’s orgasm covered his abdomen just as he was finishing his own. Spike took Angel’s face into his hands and forced a deep kiss onto him. He did not want to let go of the moment and began to chant into the mouth he kissed. "I love you, I love you." When Angel repeated the words, Spike pulled the heavenly chest of his sire against his even tighter and began to weep through his kisses. "I love you sire, I love you." He continued to plunder the mouth below him until both men, spent, fell asleep on the thick rug in a lover’s embrace.

"Look Anne, I’m having a bit of a rough day too. Could you be a little more specific. Is the dementia worse today?" Lilah dreaded calls about her mother nearly as much as calls from her mother. It seemed like forever since her mother had been healthy enough to even remember her. She called every few days because Lilah was on the speed dial in her room. She usually started conversations with ‘Do I know you, I feel like I should.’ Lilah sometimes wondered if her mother had ever really been healthy. She was never strong like Lilah was. Even as a child, Lilah always thought of her mother as frail. To tired to hold a conversation, to weak to cry in pain, to pained to smile.

"Well, dementia is what it is Ms. Morgan, some days are better. I’m afraid your mother is showing some signs of exhaustion as well. We’ve restricted her activities and tried giving her a beneficial diet, but she won’t eat. What I would like to do is give her a mild sedative and administer some IV fluids. If you could just give your consent, we’ll get her feeling right as rain in no time."

"Well, you’ve been trying to get me to come down here for months, I thought I’d indulge you." In truth, Wesley had just wanted to see if he could walk right into Wolfram & Hart. He had. He’d not even been asked for I.D. by the rather gigantic security guard. The giant had barely looked at Wesley’s jean-clad body. Not cared that he was wearing only a gray t-shirt and carried no briefcase. He’d just been waved through like they’d been expecting him for weeks.

"Yep." Lilah opened the door, revealing an office nearly as big as her own. On the far wall there were four floor to ceiling bookshelves housing an immense collection of ancient volumes and texts. A large desk sat near the windows, neatly arranged as if someone had just stepped out for a meeting. There were fresh pencils, notebooks, a phone which was already blinking that there were messages. "It’s all yours, all you have to do is sign on the dotted line."

"Really Lilah? That’s all. Oh, if that’s all sign me up." Wesley smiled at her as he took a seat in the leather chair that sat behind the desk. "Oh that’s right, there’s the signing away of one’s soul, swearing out your unborn children. Am I forgetting anything?"

"Well, that is the deciding factor then. I abhor potlucks. Unless someone brings Reuben sandwiches, just love those, you know?" Wesley flipped through the papers on his desk, pausing when he found a stack of papers with his name on the letterhead. He held one out to Lilah, which she took.

"What can I say, Wolfram & Hart is very eager to have you on board. You wouldn’t have to worry about money, benefits are great." Lilah stood up and walked behind the desk. "There are other perks Wesley." She rolled his name off her tongue as she reached across his chest and pressed a small red button under the desk. Instantly one of the bookshelves began to turn, opening a doorway into Lilah’s office.

Wesley took her by the hips and pulled up on the thin wool material that made up her very short skirt. He placed her atop the desk, reaching behind her to push some of the larger items onto the floor. Lilah in turn pulled at his t-shirt, stretching the gray cloth over his head. Wesley leaned over and took her deep red lips into his mouth and pressed her further back onto the desk. Lilah kissed down the side of Wesley’s neck, running her tongue along the scar the sliced through it’s left side.

"You know, there is a divan." Wesley said nodding his head in the direction of the plush couch across the room. Lilah moved her kisses back to his mouth. "Oh, I forgot, you have a thing for my desk." He said into the warmth of her kiss. "Uh-huh." Came a muffled reply as Lilah’s hands snaked over his exposed chest and found the buttons of his jeans.

Fred was pacing the small office waving her hands in the air as she counted off on her fingers. Gunn had tried to follow what she was saying for the first couple hours, but the last few hours had gotten less and less cohesive. She had gone from working the numbers aloud to counting the different locations the computer had spit out to working the odds of getting Cordelia back this week.

"Well, he hasn’t been exactly talkative since you brought him back, and I wasn’t sure how he was adjusting then you two spent all day up in his room together, and I didn’t know if he wanted to hear about Cordy, and then Connor went and locked himself in his room after talking to you, and Wesley isn’t home, so I don’t know what he’s found out and I think I made Charles a little crazy with my babbling."

"Little brother, haha, I never thought about. Um Ok, so I think that if we can get this oracle to communicate with Cordy and she wants to come back I think I’ve figured out how to get her back." Fred brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear and continued. "Here’s the part that I need Angel for, and probably you too. Wesley found some references to the Axis of Pythia that said it may be an actual physical object, not just an equation."

"That’s a bit of a tickler. Everybody back in Sunnydale calls me Spike, except Buffy when she’s dumping me, but that’s my own issue. Thing is, to Angelus, I was pretty much always William. Last time I saw him, he called me Spike a few times, but it was pretty much still William when Dru wasn’t around. So, you see, when I called, all I wanted was Angel. Getting your soul back can do some pretty sodding big numbers on you, which I’m sure you noticed with the walking brood-machine around. When I left Africa I had two things on my mind. Spike, who had a whole lot of shit to make up for, to Buffy, to Angel, to pretty much every continent other than Antarctica. And William, who loved Buffy enough to try an’ toss Spike right out of the bloody picture. An’ William who loved Angelus for a hundred years and couldn’t see him, couldn’t touch him."

"No, don’t get me wrong, Angelus is long gone, and more power to the powers for doing it. I wanted to find Angel, cause I’ve done him plenty wrong over the last few years. I took out my frustrations with Angelus on him more than once. I just wanted to see him, see if he would know that William was, is a part of me." Spike laughed. "I had no idea I’d have to fight an ocean just to get a chance to see him. I wasn’t expecting him to be in love, since we all know how ugly that can get. I really wasn’t expecting his little social circle to include the lot of you and a child. It’s been quite eye opening."

"Women are a pretty vague topic, bloody women have been causing your boss and I trouble for a couple centuries." Spike was getting hungry and decided to make his answer short and sweet. "Angel is in love with Cordelia. Period. Me being here doesn’t change that. Despite the occasional pre-orgasmic suggestion, he’s all hers. And really, the same goes for me. I’m not staying in LA, place just doesn’t agree with me. I’m going to have to go back to SunnyD and deal with the slayer. She’ll probably stake me on sight, but I have to try. I can’t even..." He broke off.

"I do. I love her, and I hate her, and I want to bleed her until she’s nothing but bones, and I bloody love her. She’s got a lot going on, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen her now. Buffy has a tendency to jump on the first body she sees the moment she gets lonely. Chances are when I go back, she’ll have already moved back and it will all be a moot point."

"You don’t really believe that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Buffy since being here, it’s that men don’t stop loving her. I’ve never met her, so I don’t know why, but she must have some pretty strong powers, that or she’s.." Fred laughed at her wicked little thought.

"She’s a hell of a shag." Spike laughed too. "It’s a quite a treat. Funny too, at first I was so disturbed to even be thinking of her. Angelus tortured me with stories of her. The first time he bagged her, the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she fought. It was all he ever talked about. And I swear, by the time I left Sunnydale, the first time, she was all I could think about. I wanted to kill her so bad, just so I could stop thinking about her. Then I got the bleeding chip, and I started to think maybe killing her wouldn’t be such a good idea, I was in love with her. She’d never believe it mind you, but then she died and when she came back, she knew it was true. I kept wondering if in Heaven you don’t get to spy on people, see into their hearts, maybe know the truth that lies there."

"She knew it was true, she didn’t want to believe it, but she had too. Then it just happened, like an explosion, she let me in. In to her bleedin’ little circle. Made me feel like I belonged, came to me every night, every day, wanting more. She was never satisfied, never enough shagging, never enough sparring. It reminded me of life with Angelus really. Always some new adventure, couldn’t ever just sit still. You were either sleeping, shagging or feeding. There was no down time. Angelus rarely pondered, he just did. He just was. It was beautiful, the command he had, and frightening. Buffy has that too. That power, she could kill me a thousand times if she ever tried, but she never really tried."

"Oh she kills THE vampires, just not me. Or Angel, or Drusilla for that matter. She would have killed Darla, if Angel hadn’t, the first time I mean, but I think anyone who ever met Darla would have staked her given the chance." Spike closed his eyes and tried to come back to the present. "Okay, Mrs. Rather, time for the last question, daddy’ll be getting a bit peckish soon."

"Throws a kink in your day, doesn’t it?" Spike stood up as well and gave the now mildly frantic woman a short hug. "Don’t worry peaches, I’m sure you’re all safe. The prophecies have to be about Angel, can you imagine me atoning, not likely. Angel’s the good guy here. Someday he may be mortal, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m not really about to start wearing a cape and saving the world." Spike went to the refrigerator for the third time, determined to make it the last time that day.

Wesley rested his head on the arm of the couch and looked at Lilah. She had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago. At first her sleep seemed peaceful, but she had suddenly begun to groan and mumble. Now here he sat, silently, trying to make out the words she let slip out in her sleep. The one word that played most prominently was ‘Mama’. Over and over she whispered mama.

Wesley could hardly pretend to like Lilah, though she was at times an amusing cohort. Tonight though, she had seemed truly pained for the first time, granted he had only known her for a few years, but he rarely saw her lose her composure. He watched her otherwise peaceful face contort into one of sheer terror as her mumblings became hushed cries. After several moments he couldn’t stand watching anymore. He stood up and wandered to the bookshelves and eyed the varied titles that lined their shelves. There were a few he had read and many others he had seen referenced in works he was familiar with. One in particular grabbed his attention. Moralia by Plutarch. The binding looked hundreds of years old. Wesley slowly took the book from the shelf and opened the cover. He was holding a complete account of a visit to the Delphic Oracle. Could be helpful, he thought.

"No, it’s your office, take what you want." She said while running her hands down her dress. Her absent minded gesture drew Wesley’s attention from the book and he focused on her fidgeting. He had to admit, even in this ruffled state she could be quite lovely. Until she opened her mouth that is.

"I would have what Spike? Not had to clean blood off of the damned mattress. Not have woken up with scalding A positive covering my chest, you know this isn’t going to heal overnight, I’ve got third degree burns here." Angel pointed at the red skin on his chest that was already beginning to peel off.

Angel and Spike found the rest of the Angel Investigations team, such as it was, hard at work in the back office. Fred was crunching numbers at the desk, Gunn was on the phone with Lorne trying to get the number of an oracle and Connor was reading through a stack of books. Spike stood behind Angel for a moment waiting for him to start asking questions, when it didn’t happen he sat on the corner of Fred’s desk and started snooping through her papers.

"I’m here to help as always. But, my charming sire here was just thinking how much he’d like to get some fresh air." Fred looked up to see Angel staring at Connor. His mouth was slightly ajar like he was searching for the words to speak to his son. "So whatcha say little brother, care to take a stroll around the block with brood boy here and make sure he doesn’t tire himself out?"

"Well why don’t you start with ‘I’m glad your evil plan failed.’ and take it from there. Or don’t talk at all. I have a feeling little brother has plenty to say to you." Spike pushed him towards the door and gave Connor a little wave through the window. Angel followed his son into the cool night air and closed the heavy door behind him.

"A few things, I’m not sure how helpful it will all be, but I think if you want Cordelia back you’ll find a way." Connor said. He did like Cordelia. She was beautiful and she had tried to help him. He had come back to the Hyperion months ago ready to make peace, but when she had told him she was a demon he had been so angry. To watch his father, the vampire, sit in a place of such luxury surrounded by green skinned demons and demons that could pass as human had so enraged him, he wanted to kill her. Yet, with a touch she had released some sort of rage from his body. He still felt anger, but it was not generalized. Her being a demon did not make him want to kill her. He was still angry with Angel for the wrongs he had done to Holtz’s family, but he could not hold that against the people that surrounded him.

"Well unless you want to be known as Son of Dust." Angel gave the boy a light punch on the shoulder and jumped out of the way when he went to return it. Angel was going to pounce again when he heard some shuffling coming from an alleyway they had just passed. Connor’s acute hearing had picked up the sound too and both men became silent as they slowly back tracked their steps.

They entered the alley, which was only dimly lit by the sparse streetlights that littered Hyperion Avenue. Angel caught a small movement at the rear of the alley, near some dumpsters. He made a small motion to Connor to stay back and inched his way quietly towards the back of the alley. He saw a body sprawled across the ground. Already dead. Her throat was torn and still bleeding, but her green eyes had already dulled and glazed over. Connor knelt down and touched her wrist but knew he would find no pulse.

Angel was nearly upon the vampire he knew lay hidden behind the foul smelling dumpsters when he heard Connor make a small noise of disgust as he looked at the crushed throat of the girl. Angel again turned his attention to his prey, letting his vampiric visage move to the front. He licked at the jagged teeth that filled his mouth and felt his strength peaking as his eyesight became clearer. Angel made a sudden movement towards a row of cans next to the largest dumpster that caught Connor’s attention. The vampire hidden there let out a snarling growl and lunged at Angel. He was dressed in nothing more than rags and smelled horribly of dried blood and sewage. Clearly not a townie. Even the sewers in central Los Angeles were cleaned frequently. It just wouldn’t do to have the sewers stinking up the city.

Angel easily sidestepped the other vampire’s attack and pushed him to the ground from behind as he passed. He withdrew a stake from the inside pocket of his leather duster and placed it swiftly against the vampire’s chest. The vampire on the ground burst into the familiar cloud of dust and was gone.

"It’s hard to do, knowing that one day it’s going to be you on the receiving end of the stake." Angel bent down next to his son and reached a hand over to shut the girl’s eyes. "There’s really nothing else we can do for her now. We’ll call the police when we get back to the hotel and tell them where to find her. At least then her family will be able to giver her a proper burial." He stood to go, Connor however did not. He was fixated on the wound at her neck.

"Most of them do. When you’re feeding you’re usually not really worried about the mess you make." The effect of his words on Connor’s face made Angel cringe, then he realized he was still in his game face. He let his features slip back into the human, but Connor jumped up and yelled for him to stop.

"Change back!" Connor demanded. Not sure what his son needed to see, Angel let the demon rise again. Connor stepped closer and put his hand on Angel’s brow. Angel closed his eyes and the boy lightly touched his lips, lifting them to see the razor sharp fangs they covered. He ran a fingernail over the jagged pattern that they formed. Connor put his arms to his side and looked at the ground. "You could never leave a clean mark could you?" He asked quietly.

Angel’s face became human once more and answered by shaking his head. ‘I don’t blame you Connor." He looked hard at his son and moved to put a hand on his shoulder, which the younger man did not resist. "You did just what Holtz wanted you to do. He raised you to hate me for no reason other than his own revenge. He made sure that if you thought I had killed him you would come after me. It’s not your fault. He may as well have programmed you with a computer. We always become the men our fathers make us out to be, sometimes you can’t fight it. Sometimes you shouldn’t try."

If she tried to concentrate a little harder she might be able to see her hand, at least that’s what Cordelia thought. She was sure that yesterday she had been able to make out the form of her arms, but today all she saw was a faint tinting of the air. ‘Great, I’m smog.’ she thought. ‘No, I’m Cordelia Chase. I’m queen C. I’m an actress, and I’m a little bit demon, and I used to do a job for...I used to have a job where I...’ Why couldn’t she remember. She could see a man in her mind, but she couldn’t put a name to the face. She knew that at one point she had known his name, but today it seemed to be just gone. Gone like her arms, and her legs, and the rest of her.

Cordelia was suddenly in a dark room. She could see several young men standing around a pedestal chanting. At their center was a statue that looked like a cross between a snake and a man. It reminded her of the Mayor. She had a vivid recollection of a mayor that looked like a snake. No, that couldn’t be, why would a snake be a mayor. Each though that ran through her mind made less sense than the last. She watched as the men continued to chant in a language she was sure was not her own, but other than that she couldn’t make it out.

And so Cordelia watched. She watched the chanting, not sure why she was seeing it, or who she would possibly tell even if the vision was meant to be shared. She felt like one of those old biddies that did nothing other than watch soap operas all day. Cordelia was strictly on the outside. Corporeal. Vanishing.

"Bite me, Spike. We ran into a vamp, had to take a little detour." Angel stayed standing, although inside he was dying to take a seat. He decided if he did, though, Spike would try to baby him the rest of the night, and that was definitely not the kind of attention he was looking for from his childe tonight.

"If you’re going up?" Connor waited for Angel to give the others a quick goodbye and they began the long ascent up the staircase. The pair paused outside Angel’s door when they reached it. Angel was secretly dreading having to go inside and finish cleaning up the mess he and Spike had left earlier, but had decided against taking another room for the night. He had a hard enough time sleeping in his comfortable room with Spike, let alone a room that smelled like strangers.

"Well, it is to me." Angel leaned against the doorframe and took calming breath. "I’ve been a vampire for almost two-hundred and fifty years. I’ve killed hundreds of people, maybe thousands, I never really kept a score card, but, you know, lots. In the hundred years since I got my soul back I have seen the work of hundreds of other vampires. Every time I see it, it makes me ill. Every time. I have never seen a human dead and though, oh goody, someone else is eating right."

Connor opened the door to Angel’s room and went in. The vampire followed and they both sat down on the velvet chairs that made up the sitting area. Connor took a moment to try to form the questions he wanted to ask and finally jumped right in. "It doesn’t ever make you want to kill?" Connor searched his father’s face for some hint of how he would answer, but found no clues in Angel’s half-closed eyes.

"Not different enough. That’s part of the reason Wesley took you away from me. Wolfram & Hart had spiked my blood with a trace of yours. Even the smallest little bit of your blood was enough to make me go half insane. Wes thought it was a sign that I was turning evil, but really it was just a chemical thing. A reaction, a reaction so natural to the vampire within me that the human couldn’t keep control."

"Am I tempted to drink from you? Of course not. When I first lost my soul I tried to convince myself I could still feed. I killed murderers, rapists, protestants. It didn’t help. After a while even that started to taste foul to me. Needless to say it took Darla about four minutes to chase me out of China once she knew I couldn’t take a life. When I came here, to the states I mean, I thought I’d be free of her. I lived all over the country, feeding on bottled blood, but after a while the temptation was so strong I had to stop drinking the human blood altogether.

"Then I saw Buffy for the first time, and I wanted to get strong again. So I started to drink human blood again, I got my strength back, but the thirst was so strong I couldn’t be around anyone for more than a few minutes without wanting to sink a fang in them. Buffy’s friends used to think I did it to be all mysterious and stealthy, really it was just to keep from attacking them. When Darla came to Sunnydale she had a field day with me. She found my fridge full of donor packets and couldn’t rub it in enough.

She was born here, in the states I mean. Pennsylvania I think. I didn’t think anything could make her come back. But she did. Darla came back and then I killed her, and then she came back and killed herself. But, that’s a story for another time." Angel stopped his narrative and noticed that Connor’s eyelids were starting to close. "It’s late, you should head down to your room. I’ve got a big mess to clean up in here before I can sleep, so I better get started." Angel stood up and headed for the door.

Angel had gotten undressed and taken a quick shower to wash the stench of the alleyway off of himself. He now laid in the bed, nearly asleep despite the late hour. His internal clock had not reset itself yet, and he was not feeling exactly creature of the night. More restless demon of the mid afternoon. Which wasn’t so bad, it just meant that he fell asleep a few hours before Spike did. It was sometimes even amusing. He would wake up to find his childe massaging his legs and back. Trying in part to not wake him, and in part to wake him. Spike was ready for anything at all times.

Although they had only taken their coupling as far as actual sex once since they had come back together, Angel already felt old patterns returning. He felt a dominance in himself coming to the forefront. Only a few days earlier he had let Spike top him, something Angelus had rarely done. Angel now felt strong enough to put Spike back in his place, he was the childe, and he should be treated accordingly. It was a lesson Angel was more than ready to re-teach.

It was nearly an hour before Spike came up the stairs. Angel could hear his boots stomping across the carpet, no doubt thinking he was being terribly quiet. Which he supposed, for Spike, he was. The door creaked open and Angel saw a head of platinum curls sneak into the room. The older vampire waited for Spike to undress and take his own shower. He watched his childe, through barely open eyelids, as he threw his wet towel onto the carpet and began to slide under the covers.

"Bloody hell! You wanker! Are you trying to scare me to death?" Spike stared at Angel’s face for a moment not really expecting any sort of answer. True to form Angel said nothing, only giving a silent order for Spike to sit down with a small tilt of his head. Spike obeyed his sire and sat at the edge of the bed with his back to Angel.

"I was thinking that we left things unfinished the other night." He slid one leg around either side of Spike’s, framing the smaller man’s body. Spike’s skin burned as Angel pressed his chest against his back. Angel was glad he had warmed himself under the blankets while Spike showered. He relished the feel of his porcelain skin touching his own.

"No, I don’t imagine it was, Spike." He leaned into the biting and let a small moan escape his lips. Spike felt Angel’s rapidly hardening length press against the small of his back and pressed back, applying pressure enough to make his sire jerk in his spot. Angel reached a hand around the lean frame of his childe and took Spike’s cock into his grip and began to stroke it in a steady rhythm, rocking his body in time with the motion.

"Well, I thought we’d start with this." Spike felt Angel’s fangs at his shoulder in an instant and pushed into his bite. The fair haired vampire nearly screamed as Angel began to lap at the deep wound he had made. For his part, Angel savored every drop of his childe’s coppery blood. He took several deep draughts while continuing to caress Spike’s body. When he had had his fill, Angel released Spike’s body and quickly leaned back in the bed. He reached a hand over to the nightstand and pulled out a nearly empty bottle of lubricant.

"Oh come on Angel, you have to at least stretch me a little." He received no reply. "Angel, c’mon, it’s not funny" Spike made no attempt to leave the bed but gritted his teeth at the impending intrusion. He then felt the head of his sire’s cock teasing his entrance. Angel pressed forward a few times, making no progress, after a couple more tries Spike realized he was just teasing. He then felt Angel’s slick fingers toy with the muscled ring that guarded his entrance. A strong hand planted itself on Spike’s shoulder and pulled his body back against the steady pressure of Angel’s other hand. Soon he was being filled by two long fingers.

Just as quickly as he had stretched Spike, Angel thrust his cock deep inside of his lover. He leaned over Spike’s back, not putting his full weight on the smaller man, but just enough that he hit a new tender spot deep within his childe. Spike began to buck wildly beneath him, partly to help Angel hit his magical sweet spot, and partly to show that he was not about to be completely dominated, not even by Angel. The older vampire let Spike have the smallest amount of control for a few minutes and then he bit into Spike’s shoulder again. This time he only lapped at the blood letting deep rivulets run down the pale back he watched below him. When the blood was nearly ready to drip onto the newly cleaned sheets Angel laved a streak up the soft flesh taking all of the precious liquid into his mouth.

The warmth of his own blood being licked up by his sire’s tongue excited Spike to the point he could no longer hold back. He took his own member into his hand and started to grind his hips back into Angel’s strong body. Spike turned his head as far as he could to the side and was met by his Sire’s lips. They shared a deep, if awkwardly positioned kiss, for just a minute, then went back to fulfilling their own needs. Angel thrust himself down into Spike’s tight canal nearing his own climax as Spike screamed out the arrival of his own. It was only a moment before Angel’s shallow panting became strong howls. He coated his lover’s arse with his warm cum and fell onto the bed beside his spent companion.

It had taken Wesley most of the day to read through the Moralia. There was a vast expanse of knowledge, and Plutarch’s attempts to reconcile the mystical side of his job in the Delphic Oracle with science was fascinating. There were not only accounts of the oracle’s calling and ceremony, but many references to possession by demons and the chants and rituals required to rid humans of the ill effects of the possession. Wesley had taken careful notes and made a list of items he would need to perform the ritual.

He had then thrown the list in the trash, the notebook across the room and shot-gunned a rather tall glass of brandy. Once calmed by the sweet liquor, he picked up his notes and retrieved the list from the trash. He would not let the recent strains of his relationship with Angel sacrifice Cordelia’s life. He would not be responsible for that. He would help, and once he knew she was safe Wesley knew he would be free to leave the group behind forever. He would be free of them. He would be ready to make that last sacrifice.

"Fred, it’s Wesley. I’ve found more about the ritual with the oracle. It’ll be up to you to get one there, you’ll have to try the Knights of Pythias. I haven’t found anymore about the location of the axis so hopefully you’ve gotten some more useful information in that regard. I’ll be at home the rest of the evening if you have questions. I’ll be here. If you want to call, me here, tonight." He hung up the receiver, after hitting himself in the head with it a few times.

"Sure, I’m alone on a Thursday night, just me here reading two thousand year old texts about Delphic oracles and the strange eating habits of their head priest. If you’re as sad and pathetic as I am feel free to call. Oh and if you happen to be in the mood for a shag please stop by, you see my regular bit is a little too knackered from our escapades this afternoon." Wesley closed the book that lay open on his desk and went into the bedroom, hoping to find a quick release and fall asleep, when the phone rang.

"Hey Wes. It’s Fred. I was at the campus and didn’t hear my phone." Wesley cradled the phone against his ear and sat down at his desk with his notes in front of him. "That’s great news about the Plutarch thing. I was actually here trying to get in touch with some of the Knight’s of Pythia order. Did you know there is a group called the Pythian sisters? We may be able to bypass the fraternal organization altogether."

Gunn had managed to not only get into the large house that was the Knights of Pythias’s home on the UCLA campus, they had offered to make him a member. It had taken him a few moments of polite conversation before he broached the subject of oracles. His hosts said they didn’t have much need for actual oracles anymore, but that they still performed some of the rituals as a strictly symbolic act. The looks the men shared between themselves was not lost on Gunn though. He was sure there was a little more ritual in their symbolism than they were letting on.

He stayed for about twenty minutes chatting them up, asking about the history and myth behind the order, and was satisfied that they were telling the truth about the founding, if not the present incarnations. He decided to ask about the Axis of Pythia another time, not wanting to spook them right away. As he was being shown out Gunn thought he noticed a door behind the stairway that was made to look like part of the wall. He made a mental note to check it out later.

"Gunn and Fred went to the university again to find out more on the Knights of Pythias. Fred said Wesley was looking into the ritual to help the oracle contact Cordelia and I’m still looking for more on the Axis." Connor smiled, glad to have a purpose, and a few answers.

"Think I’ll do better on my own tonight. My contact isn’t really into group meetings." Angel finished his glass and took his own coat from the rack and gave Spike a quick kiss on the forehead. "You two will be fine, I shouldn’t be long." He left the room before the other two men had time to protest.

The neon in this bar always hurt Angel’s eyes. There was too much of it, and too many large mirrors to reflect the light, making it even harsher. But he knew she would be here, she was always here after work, almost always anyway. True to form, Lilah was sitting at the bar running her fingers in circles over the rim of the glass that sat in front of her.

"Let me think. Could it be because you have been trying to make me crazy for the last three years, or maybe because you helped a demon steal my only child?" He moved his face close to hers and took in her scent. "Or maybe because I can still smell Wesley’s cock on you? And if you don’t feel like helping there’s no one on earth I’d rather drain than your new boy toy." He flashed her a menacing grin.

As Connor told Fred what he had found, Spike looked at the ancient text, briefly skimming over the Greek letters, but his focus was not the words. There was a picture of the Axis, and below it there were three more pictures. Pictures of the mythic thieves that had stolen it from it’s sacred home on Delphi nearly two thousand years before. A wolf, a ram and a hart.

Angel , Fred and Gunn had all made it back to the hotel at about the same time. They all gathered in the hotel’s lobby with Spike and Connor to recap the day’s events. Gunn told the group about the Pythian house, and the pledge dinner the next night. Fred had also had some luck with the Pythian sisters. There seemed to be one that held the others at attention. It was likely she would be the oracle, assuming the oracle was in the order.

Connor, however, seemed to be the one with the smoking gun. The texts were a pretty clear indication that if Wolfram and Hart didn’t have the Axis now, they did at one point and were likely to know it’s present whereabouts. Now came the difficult task of trying to piece everything together.

"Ok, so let’s start at the beginning." Angel said, leaning against a desk, while Fred stood at the dry erase board. "You found the coordinates of the other plane where we think Cordy is. We think that if we have the Axis we can perform this ritual with the Oracle, who may be a Pythian sister. Wesley said there have to be five knights and two priests to perform the ritual, so we’ll need them, which might require a little, um persuading. So once we do the ritual then what?"

"I think the big question is will it kill her." Spike interjected. "Angel, your demon buddy said she had ascended to a higher plane. Is she still even human? Cause I’ve got to tell you, if she’s in some heaven like place, we do not want to be pulling her out." Spike lowered his eyes, remembering the pain that had been in Buffy’s eyes the first time he saw her alive. He knew he couldn’t stand to see that torture in another woman as long as he lived, even if it was the prom queen.

"I won’t be long, I promise. But I tell you what, if I ever find that bitch Justine and she’s scratched my car, I’m going to kill her so slowly, you’ll marvel. I don’t intend to ever break the skin." He walked out the door mumbling about having to ride a motorcycle in LA, so passe.

The rumbling of the motorcycle woke him up before he ever heard the knock at the door. After all, it had been his bike once. He had even had Angel in the bitch seat a couple of times. He missed the feel of leather between his legs, the roar of the motor, the tight grip around his waist as he breezed through downtown LA at night. Wesley missed a lot of things about those first few months working for Angel. Life seemed so much simpler then.

Wesley quickly pulled on a pair of boxers that had been laying on the cold wood floor of his room and went to the front door. He knew it was Angel, but he still took his time opening the door. Let him fester for a minute, he thought as he wiped the sleepy sand from his eyes. After a few calming breaths, Wesley pulled the door open.

"House in the black forest, personal blood bank, and oh yeah," Angel crossed the threshold and pressed Wesley against the doorjamb, "I want Cordelia back." Wesley didn’t struggle or fight back, he simply placed his hand over the one that gripped his already painful throat.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Angel sat in a chair opposite Wesley so he could watch him process this new information. he could smell Lilah on it. That perfume she wore, something decidedly unfeminine. Her scent filled the apartment. He took a long breath, letting her smell fill his nostrils. Wesley rather enjoyed watching the vampire sniff out his lover. It wasn’t nearly as fun to have a secret rendezvous if no one ever found out. And it was more than a little pleasing to know that his bit on the side’s entire job revolved around making Angel insane.

"So here’s what I want from you, Wesley." Angel leaned forward. "I want you to get inside Wolfram and Hart, the building that is, not just Lilah." Wesley squirmed at the imagery. "I want you to find the Axis and I want you to bring it to me at the hotel." Angel stood up and went to the door. "And Wesley, I want it by sunset tomorrow." He turned the door handle slowly, reaching in his pocket for the keys to the motorcycle.

"No. You’ll help because if you don’t you’ll become my favorite toy. Imagine what I could do to you with nothing but the everyday things I keep in my desk. Be sure to ask Linwood how he enjoyed my staple puller." Angel left the apartment, but he heard Wesley swallow from the hallway."

"Hurry Up!" Angel stood in the lobby yelling in all directions, pointing frantically at the others. Fred ran across the office, her arms full of books. Connor was pacing her trying to see if she had grabbed the one he had first seen the axis in. Spike was at the weapons chest building a sizable arsenal under his jacket and Gunn was on the phone at the front desk. "Thanks Dawg." He said as he hung up the receiver.

"I’m going to be sick." She leaned onto the desk, resting a slender leg against one of the plush chairs meant for clients. "So, I thought you weren’t coming here anymore. What was all that about not working for Wolfram & Hart, wanting to be a champion of good, et al."

"She’ll what Angel? She’ll be fine with you making love to her then coming down the hall for a good old fashioned shag with me. Yeah. I’m sure she’ll be all for it, progressive girl that she is." Tears ran down the side of his face as he continued to stare at the ceiling. "It won’t work Angel. I can’t stay here and watch. You love her. You love her."

"You love her. I could see it in you as soon as you came out of that bleeding box, Angel. You need her. And I need Buffy." He cast his eyes to the floor. Sorry he had said her name. "Angel, you know what I did to her. I cannot stay here with you, living in a fantasy. She needs me there to protect her."

"Angel, you killed her friends, teachers, left her bloody little gifts, you fucking drank from her! She would welcome you back with welcome arms. Even still, she would take you back if you asked." He turned his back on Angel and placed his hands on the wall. "You will have a piece of her I can never touch forever. Always. But if I stay here with you I will be letting go. I can’t do that. She deserves to know that I am sorry. Even if it means nothing. She’ll probably stake me on site, but if I stay here the demon wins."

Angel knew he was right. He watched as his childe slid down the wall crying. He knew that William was there, not Spike. At the surface he was that soft spoken poet that had arisen from the grave. Before Angelus had held him. Before Angelus had trained him, told him to feel the power that coursed through his veins. William had loved with his whole heart, and more than a century later it was still the only way he knew how to love.

"You’re really leaving." Angel was compelled to laugh at the blatant parallel. Had it only been three years since Buffy had said those exact same words to him. They had stood in a sewer and said their goodbyes, and now he was reliving the moment with the one person who he should be able to be with forever.

"I’m leaving. Once I know Cordelia is safe, and that you are okay. I’ll go take care of what is left of my life and you’ll do the same." Spike wiped the salty streams from his face and stood back up. Angel was instantly on him. Hard mouth covering his own. "I love you Angel." Spike managed to get out between kisses. "I will always love you."

Angel clawed at his childe’s clothes, tossing them to the floor. He was determined to have one last moment with this beautiful creature, before he left. They pressed their way to the softness of the bed, kissing and caressing. There was no need for biting. No need to share the warm blood that burned its way through their bodies. This moment was about love. It was about the touch. It was a promise of forever. The women in their lives may be the most important thing now, but they were not so naive to think it would last forever. Many years from now they knew this moment would come again. Immortality meant saying goodbye many times in a lifetime, but never truly to each other.

Spike took comfort in Angel the same way he always had. He opened himself to his sire’s body. Tracing hands over the chest that was so much broader than his own. Circling over muscled arms that even the sea could not penetrate. Running fingers through thick hair, finally free of sand and salt. Kissing the thick lines of his lover’s mouth. Tasting the hunger that coursed through his warm mouth. There was no fighting for control. No power struggle. Spike let Angel know he was the sire with every gentle thrust. Angel in turn poured decades of need into Spike’s willing body. He held him tight and whispered pledges of devotion to ready ears. Finally at peace with each other, and ready to face one more mission together Spike and Angel comforted each other in the most carnal, and at the same time tender way they knew how. Releasing all the tension between them at the same time. Together they came in a flurry of ‘I love you’s’ and ’forevers’.

"One moment please." The small woman’s eyes flashed like a computer screen in DOS mode and came to a pause. "Axis of Pythias. Tool used by Delphic Oracles to channel interdimensional energy and focus on a specific life force. Acquired by Wolfram & Hart circa 17A.D. Housed at the Muncy Headquarters until 1915A.D. Now housed in vault 14765."

"I do not have time to be lied to." Gunn’s gang was now inside; they practically dragged the oracle behind them. "We are going to go downstairs now. We are going to perform the ritual of the Axis, and if you tell me you do not know what I’m talking about one more time I am going to remove your head, slowly." Angel released the man, who was now frantically nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, yeah, better than me at least." Angel made a motion up the stairs and several of Gunn’s gang went up to get them. Angel took the oracle’s hand and kicked in the door that stood behind the stairs. They were halfway down the stairwell when Angel saw Wesley’s frame shadowed in the doorway. He had a box in his hands and a copy of the Moralia tucked into his pocket.

Once they were all assembled, the oracle sat on top of the stone eschara, a sort of altar capped with animal horns and Mistress Myrna stood next to her. Wesley, Angel and Spike formed a tripod around the two women and the Axis, which stood on a separate altar, and the five Pythian brothers stood around them. Gunn, Connor, Fred and the rest of the crew stood near the stairwell, guarding against any party crashers. The Pythians began a quiet chanting invoking the spirit of the god Apollo to bless the ritual. Spike and Angel held up an ornately carved bowl of stone as Wesley tossed olivewood into it and set it on fire. Once the wood was ablaze he tossed in Laurel, bay leaves, grain and lustral water. Mistress Myrna poured more of the water over the oracle. She then poured several cups of lamb’s blood over the oracle’s hands. The five Pythians held up bronze globes with smaller bronze balls hanging from them.

"Recognize the signs of the old flame. Show us the dwelling of the one we seek." Mistress Myrna shouted as she handed the oracle a glass of lamb’s blood to drink. As she did the Axis began to glow. A yellow light filled the room and they could see Cordelia in the archway of the Axis. The feeling of pure joy filled the room. Wherever she was, Cordelia felt no pain. Spike shuddered as he saw her. He felt Angel’s grip loosen on his hand and knew that Angel’s resolve was waning.

"Angel, is she in heaven?" Spike asked quietly. Angel stared back at him, for the first time he was not sure if they should bring her back. The Pythians had increased the volume of their chanting and it was now reaching a fever pitch. The oracle began to convulse on the eschara and her chanting became unintelligible. She raised her hands over her head and the blood that covered them turned black.

"Come back to us, leave your plane and enter ours. Bring with you the spirit that was cast out of our world." The oracle leaned forward and placed her hands into the archway of the axis. "Join me and bring back the spirit so that it may entreat the body to join us." She motioned to Angel to take her hands, but he was still unsure if it was what he should do. He looked to Spike for an answer, but the other vampire was already gone.

Spike reached into the Axis and took the oracle’s hands. As he did a bolt of lightning shot through the Axis and centered itself on their blood coated hands. The oracle cried out as Mistress Myrna threw the remaining blood and lustral water over the two of them. "Come back to us, join us here." Spike repeated her words several times as the electricity coursed through his body. Then the bolt left the Axis and centered itself on him. Angel looked on in horror as his childe began to shake and radiate with the yellow light. The oracle let go of his hands and fell back onto the altar, exhausted.

"Spirits call you back. Cordelia. Step through the gate if it be your will. Rejoin your spirit and release its presence from your willing receptacle." Spike stood up and reached his hands towards the gate, a flash of white light filled the room and he felt two soft hands holding onto his own. He took a step back and Cordelia stepped out of the gateway. The oval closed behind her and Mistress Myrna said a quiet incantation over the remaining light, permanently sealing it.

As Spike and Cordelia held hands the force of the lightning bolt passed from his body to hers. She absorbed the light and was filled with her own spirit. The light then left her and returned to the Axis. She and Spike slipped to the floor, resting on each other. The Pythians stopped their chanting and went to the oracle at the altar.