Still Ensouled - The Complete Series

Angel had driven all night. He wasn't sure he'd make it to Sunnydale before dawn, but he knew he had to try. He had been on auto-pilot ever since... No, he wouldn't think about it, wouldn't picture it. He would just drive from memory, hugging the turns as he came into town. He found his way to the cemetery easily. It had been a couple of years since he had been here for Joyce's funeral, but he knew this foggy place better than he knew the Hyperion. There were still rooms of the Hyperion he had not looked in, but he knew every headstone of this place. Every stone door, every crypt.

He parked his car outside the high iron gates and made his way slowly through the low fog to Spike's Crypt. His body was bruised on nearly every inch. His neck still sporting a large hole where the beast had gouged the stake in. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but could not get the evening's earlier fight out of his head. The wide entrance to the crypt seemed like home to him, after this night Angel wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his childe's arms. He heard quiet sounds inside, the television droning on, a glass being swished, a bowl of chips being crunched. It all sounded very plain. Very normal. It was what he had come back to the Hellmouth for. A big dose of normal.

Angel knocked on the door and heard a crash inside. There was a hurried shuffling towards the entryway. Angel felt his stomach tighten. He had not seen Spike since Cordelia had come back. It seemed another lifetime then. Angel had only had two short weeks with Spike before he had taken off again. Back to Buffy, back to his life. Angel had been left with...

"Well, prime crypt like this, you vampires seem to think you just get first dibs or whatever. Come in, come in." the demon waved a hideously flabby arm at Angel and motioned him into the dark crypt. An infomercial was playing on the small television and there was a spilt bowl of bugle chips on the floor. "You must be Angel." The demon continued.

"Well, truth is I haven't seen him since he went to Africa. I told him I'd keep an eye on the place, and well, he just hasn't come back." Clem took a seat on the worn recliner that sat in front of the television and motioned to a wooden chair for Angel. The vampire shook his head at the offer.

It was nearly six-thirty in the morning when Buffy heard a knock at the door. She threw on a robe and headed for the stairs. When she was halfway to the landing she saw Angel's familiar form in the door's glass panes. She hurried her step, seeing the sun coming up fast. She opened the door and pulled him inside. "Angel, what are you doing standing in the sun? Why didn't you just come in?"

"There is always an invite." Buffy reached out to give her former lover a hug, but he winced at the gesture. Only then did she truly look at him. She had never seen him so battered, and they had fought some hellacious battles. Angel couldn't help but notice her stare.

As Angel sat in her kitchen, taking his shirt off, he couldn't help remembering the first time he had sat in this same position. It was nearly seven years earlier, and they had only just begun to fall in love. He knew Buffy was reliving the memory too, he tried to smile again, but he was exhausted. Exhausted from the fight, the drive, and the disappointment of not finding Spike at the crypt. Buffy took out a bottle of peroxide and some cotton balls and began cleaning the slashes that covered the vampire's back and chest.

"I don't know. I can't be gone long either, but I had to," he paused as tears filled his eyes, "I had to leave, but I'll have to go back tonight. I just needed to see..." He covered his eyes with his hands, trying to regain his composure.

"I need to find Spike." Angel looked away, not wanting to show the Slayer how much he needed his childe. "He wasn't at his crypt, and he left in such a hurry, and I didn't know what to say. I let him go without saying anything." Angel wiped more tears away. He then grabbed his torn shirt from the counter and started to put it back on. Buffy's small hand stopped him.

"Okay, first, I'm not done. Second, when did you see Spike? And last, what did this to you?" Buffy held his gaze, willing him to tell her what she needed. Angel let her take the shirt from his hand and begin wiping his chest down with the peroxide. His skin bubbled as the liquid met the torrents of blood that had spilled from his neck earlier in the night.

"Alright," Angel began in a hushed voice. "You can finish, I'm already healing, I'm just a little weak still. You know, my summer vacation was a hoot." He didn't smile now. "Spike came to me after he got back from Africa. He was so ashamed at what he'd done to you, Buffy. He was so sorry, he didn't know how to start. Guess he figured I'm the master when it comes to needing forgiveness for unspeakable evils committed by my alter ego." They shared a forced smile at the painful memory of Angelus. Angel continued. "We did a spell to bring Cordy back, I couldn't do it, but he did. He brought her back, but then he left. I couldn't follow him; I didn't know what to say. As for this," He traced a finger over the still gaping hole in his neck, "I have no idea what it was. Cordy had a vision, and Lorne read her." He stopped.

"I can't. Buffy, I can't." He stopped trying to hold back the tears as the image of his son on top of Cordelia filled his mind. That had hurt worse than anything the beast did to him. "I need Spike." He whispered over and over as Buffy pulled him into her embrace. He tried to be soothed by her gentle words of comfort, but he could find no peace.

"It was working here too, but whatever this thing is, it found a way to get into Spike's mind. I still don't know how much permanent damage it's done." She wiped the last of the blood from Angel's shoulder, placing a bandage over what looked like an arrow hole, and helped him off the stool. "Come on. I'll take you up to him."

They made their way up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Angel could hear Spike's mumbling in his sleep before the door was opened. He could only make out about every other word. "Devour. Go Away. Beneath. I remember." Buffy opened the door slowly, but she did not enter. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

Inside Angel sat on the edge of the bed and kicked his shoes off. He then undid his pants and stood so they would fall to the floor. He had found Spike, but he shivered at the sight of him. He was fighting something, even in his dreams. Angel pulled back the blankets, careful to not uncover the sleeping vampire as he slid in next to him. Once he was sure he had not awakened him, Angel let his hand move over the bony hip of his childe. He pulled himself closer to Spike's small frame. At last Angel let the familiar scent he had been searching for all night fill his nostrils. A smell that only belonged to Spike. To his William.

Angel had only just laid his head on the pillow, when he felt Spike shudder. He watched as Spike's blond head turned over to look into Angel's luscious brown eyes, still wet with tears. The younger vampire's gaze lasted only a moment before he flew out of the bed, only stopping when he hit the far wall of the room.

"You are not here! You aren't real!" Spike screamed. "Buffy, Buffy!" He banged his head backward against the wall as he continued to scream. Angel climbed out of the bed slowly, not wanting to make Spike's panic worse, but every inch that he moved closer to Spike only resulted in a renewed volley of screams.

Buffy ran into the room, nearly ripping the hinges off the door as she came. She hardly noticed that Angel was wearing nothing but boxers and Spike was completely naked, flailing against the wall. "Buffy, it's back. It's here. It wants me to hurt people." Spike cried. "Buffy, kill it please, kill it. It makes me see what I want to see. It's not real." Buffy took Spike's hand and pulled him close.

"Spike, it's not here. It's really Angel." She caressed his hair and talked softly amid his continued screams. "William, listen to me. Angel was worried about you, that's why he's here. Look at him please. Angel's hurt, he wanted to be sure you were okay." Buffy repeated herself several more times. The same soothing words over and over, until Spike finally stopped screaming and looked at Angel again.

"Spike, I'm here, it's really me. Will, can't you tell it's me?" Angel took a tentative step forward and tried to reach out his hand for Spike to take. He held his hand extended for several moments before Spike took a hold of it, running his small fingers over the numerous wounds that covered Angel's hands.

"It's me. I'm here." Spike released himself from Buffy's hold and dove into the arms of his sire. Angel clutched at Spike's bare back, not feeling it possible to hold him tight enough. Spike returned the strong grasp, trying to find a place that was not ravaged with torn tissue. Angel leaned his face down to that of his childe's and was met with hungry lips, searching for a remembered home. Angel found a mouth of cool softness, just waiting to kiss that which had been missing for weeks. Both vampires let out a sea of `I love yous' into the room, and the kiss seemed to swallow them both, wiping away weeks of anguish. Together they found strength they had lost when they parted. In a room with a woman they both loved, they lost themselves in each other, as the Slayer's jaw hit the floor.

After several moments Spike was calm enough to break the hungry kiss he had shared with his sire. Not wanting to let go completely, he rested his forehead against Angel's chest, welcoming the rhythmic swaying as Angel rocked him gently. "I'm here." He whispered into Spike's ear. "I'm here."

"I promise." Angel felt his chest moisten as his childe's tears trailed across it. He held Spike's still trembling body close to his, acutely aware of Buffy's incredulous gaze. He did not speak. He had no words to describe his relationship with Spike. No way to convey to her what they shared. No way to make her understand the need they shared. All he could do was give her a look to meet her own and hope she found answers in his tear-filled eyes. Buffy gave him a small smile, unsure of her own meaning, the feelings too fresh to discern. Only when she heard footsteps in the hall did she become aware of the awkwardness that surrounded the trio.

Willow had been awakened by Spike's screaming, just as the sunlight began to flood her room. Afraid he was in the throws of an episode she had grabbed her fuzzy robe from the hook on the door and hurried to his room. She stopped cold in her tracks as she saw Angel and Spike standing in the room with nothing but one pair of boxers between their bodies.

"Well I can see why. What is going on in here?" Willow asked as she looked at the two vampires still holding each other in the center of the room. "I heard Spike screaming, so I thought... Well, I don't know what I thought, but you can bet this wasn't it."

"I know." The Slayer said in response to Willow's look. "It's just too weird. Angel said he needed to find Spike, that he came to LA when he got back from Africa. Then when I told him Spike was here he just freaked. He couldn't make it up the stairs fast enough. Then after I stepped out of the room Spike spazzed and thought Angel was whatever has been messing with him. Willow you should have seen them. As soon as Spike calmed down they couldn't let go of each other."

"I just had no idea. That night in the chapel, Spike said Angel should have told him, but I just thought he was talking about before, you know when Angel got his soul. It never occurred to me that Spike would go there first." Buffy wiped the wetness from the corner of her eyes and tried to calm herself.

Angel stepped through the archway to the kitchen making room for Spike to join him. The two vampires grabbed the warm mugs of blood from the counter and sat down to drink. The four of them sat in silence for a moment, until Willow stood to make some tea for Buffy and herself. Once they all had warm beverages they returned to their quiet vigil. No one sure how to begin.

"So, Angel." Buffy interjected. "Are you going to tell us what did this to you or make us guess?" Angel took a sip of his drink and tried to find the appropriate words. "Okay, Spike did he tell you?" The other vampire remained equally silent, but gave a small shake of his head. "Great."

"She will though. Don't you see? She will want you back, and you'll leave and go to her. You love her, not William." Spike's face looked on the verge of changing. His anger nearly bringing out the demon within him. "She will want you back, just like you wanted her!" He yelled.

Spike suddenly understood. There was only one type of pain he had ever seen Angel suffer so acutely. The pain of watching a childe take away the woman he loved. He had seen the same look in Angel's eyes more than a hundred years earlier. He had seen it the first time Drusilla had come to him in the night instead of Angel.

"Then we need to work together. We need to find out what is doing this. Chances are if we've got apocalypse number seven on the way it's connected." Angel said as he stood up, taking Spike with him. "First we need to get back to LA, unless what's going on here is in attack mode as well."

As soon as Spike and Angel reached the top of the stairs and were away from the rest of the group a wave of relaxation washed over them. Being in a room with Buffy, and to a lesser extent the others, was nearly unbearable for both vampires. Angel had searched all night for Spike, and to have to share him with the Slayer had taken every bit of self-restraint he had. Once alone, though, the world changed.

They quickly undressed each other and made for the bed. Not out of need for sex, but something far more primal, companionship. Closeness. They needed what all creatures that have been alone for vast periods of time need, sheer touch. Flesh against flesh. Once they were wrapped in the soft down of the bed they clamored for each other. Angel locked his arms around Spike and held him, afraid to kiss, afraid to move.

"All I know is that I haven't stopped crying for days. I've been seeing Drusilla and the Master, Buffy when she isn't here, myself. Every time I thought I was going to be alright and let myself relax it would come back. And now that you're here, I don't feel like crying anymore. I don't want to cry. Not anymore."

Spike rolled over, loosening Angel's grip ever so slightly and kissed him. "We will make it through this. As soon as the sun sets we'll head back to the hotel and see that Fred and Gunn are okay. We'll check on the watcher, and then we'll tackle the issue of Cordelia and little brother. Deal?"

"Right then, sleep. Do me a favor, roll over and let me hold you for a spell." Spike planted another kiss on Angel's torn lips and urged him to roll over until he was facing the wall. He gingerly draped one arm over Angel's hip, letting his fingers dangle just above his sire's navel, his other arm resting above his head. Spike coaxed his fingers through Angel's blood coated hair, forcing a soft groan from his sire as Spike massaged his scalp.

"You feel sexy to me, Angel." Spike said, letting his kisses move to Angel's neck. The worst of his wounds were luckily on the other side of his neck, leaving Spike free to make a trail with his tongue along the sensitive flesh of Angel's jaw line.

"Okay." Spike said turning over abruptly. Angel made a small noise of protest but did not roll over. Spike quietly reached into the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of massage oil. He coated his fingers before turning back over to spoon the larger vampire.

"Left over from the witches. Willow can't sleep in here anymore. Too painful, obviously." Spike crept his fingers back to Angel's hip and let them slip between the firm crease of his cheeks. Angel squirmed but did not move away. Spike ran slow circles over Angel's entrance, expecting to be pushed off of the bed at any moment. Instead, his fingers were welcomed into Angel's body with a gentle push. He moved slowly inside his cool entrance as Angel quietly rocked back and forth on his side, low growls emanating from his sire. Spike made no attempts to pleasure himself, wanting only to take away the pain the night had caused Angel. He continued to kiss Angel's neck and shoulders while he slid his slender fingers deeper into the smooth passage of his lover.

"You are." He leaned closer to Spike's face, resting his cheek against Spike's forehead. "You are taking it." He moved lower on the bed and kissed Spike's waiting mouth. Spike welcomed his sire's tongue into a dance with his own. Savoring the flavor that belonged to his lover, sweet and in pain. Angel reached over his shoulder and grabbed the bottle of oil and placed it into Spike's hand. "Make me forget." Angel folded his body up, lifting his glorious ass into the air. Spike moved behind him, stroking his own swollen cock for the first time in weeks.

Spike pressed forward, letting Angel take him in slowly. He felt his walls adjust ever so slightly, opening to him further. Spike let out a growl of his own, pressing deep within his lover. Angel arched his back again, forcing Spike's balls to slap against his own with a concussion of power. The movement brought Angel's cock to life and Spike willingly reached a hand around to help stroke it with his still-wet fingers.

Angel set the pace of Spike's intrusion; a slow rocking that made a dull thumping against his prostate with each thrust. After several moments of gentle and slow movement Angel began to hurry the pace. Each thrust building force, Spike's hand moving more rapidly against Angel's engorged cock. As he neared his climax, Angel's eyes filled with tears. Spike felt a stream of tears fall on his hands and went to stop his harsh pace.

"No, please, don't stop." Angel cried. Unsure, but nearing his own orgasm, Spike pressed deep into his sire, growling deep in his throat, kissing the back of Angel's neck as he sobbed. Angel's seed filled Spike's hand and his sobs grew even louder. Spike quickened his pace once more, wanting to be done, wanting to hold his sire. At last he felt the burning grow within and in a final movement released his orgasm into Angel. Spent, he moved off of his sire, and lay beside him in the bed. Angel's body shook violently as he sobbed.

"I'm so sorry Angel." Spike whispered to his sire. "I didn't want to hurt you; it was selfish of me. This being ensouled thing isn't all it's cracked up to be, I'm still the same man I was. I'm so sorry I hurt you." He wanted to reach out and hold Angel, but was now afraid he would recoil at his touch as Buffy once had.

"No. No." Angel said as he tried to regain his composure. "You didn't hurt me, Spike. Oh god, you didn't. It was just what I needed. It was perfect, it really was." He slid across the bed to be closer to his childe. "Spike, I wouldn't have made it through this day without you." He kissed Spike though his body still trembled.

"You're sure? If I hurt you again I wouldn't be able to live with myself." He welcomed Angel's kisses again, a simple answer to a complex question. There was no hurt those lips could not cure. Spike had spent a lifetime away from Angel, and wondered how he had survived a day without his sire.

"Enough. You did what you had to. You left. No one here blames you, and if team Angel doesn't understand they can get shagged." Spike leaned into Angel's chest and dragged a heavy arm over his side, burying himself in the broad expanse of his lover's chest. "We'll know how it all turned out soon enough."

"No. Not happy. They probably had their cell phones smashed during the fight. Lines of communication are down. That can happen during an apocalypse." As if on cue the package in Spike's pocket rang out the theme to Bonanza. "Dammit." Spike ripped open the package as the phone rang again. He stared at the small buttons, locating one that said talk. "Hello?" He said into the phone.

"Oh my god." She whispered, quickly rolling onto her other side and pulling the tattered blanket close to her chest. Her movements awoke the sleeping teenager that had shared her bed the night before. No. More than her bed. She and he had... "Oh god." She said again.

When Cordelia entered the hotel Angel was in his office looking at a mound of paperwork. Spike and Fred were reading in the back office. In the lobby Gunn and Lorne manned the phones, playing tag-team with a notepad. Lorne put a caller on hold just long enough to point Cordy towards Angel's door.

"Look, Spike, I don't know why you're here again, but you had better back off." She tried to side step the vampire but failed. Spike pushed her back into the office and shut the door. He held the knob so she could not turn it and smiled at Angel.

Spike waited for the group to leave before opening the door. Cordelia flew at him in a rage. "What are you doing letting him go without me?" She reached out to punch him, but Spike easily caught her fist and pressed her down into a chair. He leaned on the counter as she fumed in her seat.

"Tell me again why the powerful, albeit semi-scary vampire got to stay at the Hyperion with Cordy while I'm charging into battle with you all?" Lorne asked as he, Gunn, Fred, and Wesley followed Angel through a dripping sewer that ran under the Wolfram and Hart building.

"He's not exactly battle ready and you are." Angel answered. "Besides, we're not here for the monster. We are here for Connor. We get him, we get out. If any of you see the big bad you turn tail and run. I mean run fast. This thing is not going to hurt any of you." Angel pushed open a sewer grate and allowed Wesley to take the lead.

"Shut Up." Angel yelled at the spatting men. "I don't give a rat's ass what's going on with you two. Put it away. We're here to get Connor. You leave your crap here. If either of you put him in more danger by not paying attention I'll kill you myself." With that he grabbed a duffle bag full of rope and leapt up into the hole. Once at the top he threw the rope back down and helped the others up.

"Oh don't worry your pretty little head about ideas, peaches. I'm way beyond ideas. I've had ideas, thoughts, plans, and maps, fancy pencil drawings, trial runs, you name it. I'm thinking I'm ready for the real deal." Spike cocked his head and gave her a look that screamed predator. She began to stand up, but Spike jumped from the counter and in a second had a cold hand on her shoulder, holding her in place.

"No love, we've already bonded." He licked his lips again and continued. "I wish you could see the little hole in my brain as clearly as I can. When I reached through the axis to pull you back into this reality it was almost as if you climbed right through my skull and some pieces of my brain came out with you. Did you feel that?" He did not give her time to respond. "I was so dazed I hardly remember going back to Sunnydale. I remember waking up in a dank basement, thinking I must be at Buffy's, but then I realized I wasn't chained to a wall, so I knew I was somewhere else. I looked around a bit, wandered through halls that never seemed to end, doors that all led to the same little room. So, that's where I planted myself."

"Fascinating, so back to my story, eh? So I'm in the basement and I start seeing people I knew, Drusilla, the Master, Buffy, and others, even Adam-look-at-all-my-parts. They were always there, talking, always talking. Never let me get a moments rest, never let me sleep, never let me feed. I thought it was the soul. I tried to cut it out, did everything short of staking myself. All I wanted was to see Buffy, but she didn't come. I just wandered the room, trying to ignore the voices, and she didn't come."

"Because Angel loved you. You sodding idiot. He loved you more than anything, deeper than I've seen him love anyone in years, and you threw it in his face." Spike wanted to kill her, not even to feed, just to end her. "He nearly died a dozen times over for you, and you were completely oblivious."

"Don't you lie to me!" Cordelia yelled. "I saw you two together. The night I came back. I saw you, so don't you talk to me about the pain he felt. I felt it too!" She sank back onto the chair and began to cry. "He thinks I don't know, but I'm not stupid, Spike."

Wolfram & Hart's lobby was as still as a graveyard, one that wasn't located in Sunnydale at least. There was not a single person left alive. Blood coated the walls, floors, desks, windows, and everything in between. To call it a massacre would have implied that the people inside had time to realize what was happening before they were in the Beast's grasp. These people had died by the hundreds in a manner of minutes. Angel stepped over countless bodies, forcing himself to look at each face to make sure it wasn't his son's.

Angel had just turned a corner on the seventh floor when he caught Connor's scent. He had no more than taken a step before he felt a body lunging at him. Angel instinctively grabbed his opponent by the throat and slammed him up against a wall.

"No, I don't. All I know is that there are a lot of weird coincidences going on. Look, Connor none of that matters right now. We need to find the others and get out of here." Just as he turned around Angel felt a blow rain down on his neck. He expected to be facing the Beast, but instead saw Gavin Park, although a rather dead looking Gavin.

"Dad, look out." Connor kicked at the lawyer's knees and knocked him to the ground. No sooner had he hit the floor than he crept back up and made a second lunge at Angel. The vampire easily pushed him back down with a forearm and shoved Connor towards the stairwell. "What was that?"

"No, not like me." Angel took up his broadsword to decapitate another zombie as it attacked and was immediately come at from another. "There are a lot of them. Let's find the others and get out of here." The duo entered the stairwell and both started heading upwards.

"Even for them." They continued their ascent until they reached the ninth floor and heard the rest of the group pinned in a small room, surrounded by several dozen of Wolfram and Hart's finest. Angel and Connor quickly disposed of several of the zombies before they reached the door. Angel kicked in the door, giving the others a good scare.

She walked to the office door, looking through the mini-blinds that were pulled halfway up, and saw Angel and Spike kissing. As she put her hand on the door Spike opened his eyes and stared at her, not breaking the kiss. He closed his eyes again and pulled Angel even closer. Undaunted, Cordelia opened the door. Angel let go of Spike with reluctance and began shuffling papers on the desk.

Angel had been sitting alone in his room for hours. Spike had long since cleaned himself up and went downstairs to do some reading. Connor and Cordelia had left the night before, and Wesley had followed suit. Angel had thought Gunn and Fred went out to, but there were the occasional shouts from the office to remind him they had not. They sat together, uncomfortable, detached. Now Angel wished the others would come back, if for no reason other than the mindless chatter that would eventually float up the stairs. He wanted to hear something other than the sirens outside, the occasional screams from passersby. The silence was painful, until Lorne made his way down the hall, humming some show tune that Angel couldn't quite identify.

"Angel, baby, when this whole thing is done Connor is still going to be your son. And you may not find perfect happiness with Cordelia, but there are other fish in the sea. Like a certain recently ensouled vampire sitting in the lobby with the rest of the team." Lorne said. He then left the room, leaving Angel alone once again.

Angel sat in his dimly lit room, still alone, looking over the same books he had been looking at an hour ago. Every few moments his eyes would drift to the floor, which was littered with images of the demon. He felt himself begin to slip into a much-needed sleep when there was a knock on the door.

"You know I never thought of that. Get over it. It's so simple." Angel was tempted to physically throw her out of his room. He moved towards her, but as he did she reached a hand up to caress his cheek. He caught it in mid stride and held it tight.

"So, anyway, we're talking and all of a sudden he gets his heart ripped out by some huge demon. Demon. The whole nine yards. Horns, cloven feet." As she was talking Lorne walked in. Gwen stared at him a moment. "He wasn't wearing lamé."

She reached a large library and pulled a book from the wall. A door opened, revealing a concrete room. "Never give up a chance for a really good cliche." She shoved Manny into the room. "Twelve inch thick concrete walls, it's own ventilation."

"Thanks." Once she had left he continued. "Okay, baby brother, I don't want you to even start trying to explain what happened between you and the princess, because I'll be sick. I do, however , want you to tell me that you didn't do it just to hurt Angel." Spike stood close to the boy and waited for his answer.

"Hello, Spike." The beast threw a fist at Spike and sent him flying into the wall. Connor lunged at the demon but barely got a single blow in before he was tossed through the air. He made a second leap but was once again stopped mid-stride. The beast threw him in the same direction he had sent Spike, but instead of hitting the wall Connor went through the window and plummeted to the ground below.

When they entered Connor's place the beast was knelt within a circle on the floor. In front of him there was a statue made up of silver wings, the beast was breathing an energy into a small orb that rested on top of the wings. He then held a heart, still dripping with blood over the orb and chanted.

"Why do you ask?" Cordelia said, following Connor's gaze to the heavens. As they watched black fingers seemed to curl around the shape of the sun. In a matter of seconds the sun was completely covered with black flames. The day had turned to night.

"I'm not sure." Angel answered; looking around the apartment for the pieces of statuary that had been scattered in the fight. He spotted the orb, but as he made a move for it, the beast reappeared in front of him and took the orb into his hand. He opened his mouth and swallowed it.

The main floor of the Hyperion was filled with raised voices. Wesley and Angel had been in the office for several hours debating the ups and downs of bringing Angelus back to find out if he knew anything about their most recent enemy. Fred and Lorne had been arguing about the finer points of evil vampire knowledge with Cordelia in the lobby, and Gunn, Connor, and Spike stood in the back office presenting the united No Angelus campaign to both factions. The shaman, Wu-Pang looked on from the sofa, sipping his glass of orange zinger tea, quite amused by the spectacle.

"Wesley, listen to me as I spell this out simply: No!" Angel calmly repeated to the former watcher. "You may have read all the fun facts you could find about Angelus, but you have no clue what you are asking, and since it isn't even possible, we are not discussing it any more."

"You couldn't hold me any longer than I wanted to be held. You think you know Angelus, but you have never had the pleasure of his company and you have no idea what you are asking me to do. Get rid of the shaman." Angel said as he grabbed the door handle and walked out of the room. He silently walked through the lobby and onto the garden terrace. Spike was seated on the stone bench beside him within seconds.

"It's not that he's smarter, he's just...Okay, he's smarter, but in that sick way. Pure evil will do that. I think of some of the schemes you came up with back then and it makes me want to drop to my knees and pray to the alter of all things unholy. You were so good. I mean bad. Bad, bad evil guy." Spike wanted to continue his on the knees train of thought, but Angel had stood up and gone back into the hotel.

"Spike, it will be fine." Angel answered from inside the large cage they had constructed in the hotel's basement. He lay chained to a thick slab of steel while Wu-Pang set up his supplies on a rolling cart. The shaman took a round jar with a bright red cork from a felt lined bag and placed it on the cart.

Angel closed his eyes as the shaman began to chant in mandarin. The incantation was not completely dissimilar to the curse that had given him his soul back a century earlier. The vampire felt a deep pull forming in his chest and he closed his eyes tighter, waiting for the sensation to pass. The shaman leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear. "Time to say goodbye."

No sooner had the words left the shaman's lips than he reached into his robes and pulled out a slender sword and took aim at Angel's neck. Angel managed to get his hand up fast enough to block the sword's path, but with his arms bound he could not maneuver the weapon away from him. "A little help here!" He shouted to the others in the room.

Angel heard the clang of metal as Gunn undid the heavy locks on the cage and rushed to his side. Wesley tried to pin the shaman in a corner, but he had drawn a short knife from somewhere and now pointed it at Wesley. Spike had followed Gunn into the cage and unfastened Angel's feet and arms, the pair of vampires now closed on the shaman with rage in their eyes.

"Gunn, see if he has anything on him." Gunn reached out and pulled away the cloth that covered the shaman's head. The shaman's skin was covered in intricate tattoos depicting Chinese symbols, each layer of cloth revealed more vertical rows of symbols.

The group had gathered around the shaman's dead body and Wesley was examining the symbols with a magnifying glass. "It looks like scripture." He said. "It tells the story of the Beast's acolytes and their battle with a group trying to forge a weapon capable of destroying the Beast."

Angel had led Cordelia, Spike, Wesley and Connor through a series of clever, yet entirely wicked, booby traps that lined a cave formation under the east side of Los Angeles. They had come to a dead end at a rock wall and after figuring out the key to raising the wall the group had split up to search for the sword. Angel and Cordelia had taken one path, and Connor had followed Spike and Wesley the other way, after no small amount of protest.

"Well, the light's coming from somewhere." Angel reached his hand over the altar and felt his skin chill. The sensation alternated hot and cold, he occasionally felt something metallic brush over his skin, but he could not grasp it. He continued to move his arm into the void that covered the altar until he felt his grasp closing on something solid. Angel slowly drew his hand back into the room, sword in hand. "It's some sort of dimensional porthole."

"Oh, Angel!" Cordelia cried as the illuminated bubble over the altar began to burn a flaming red. The ball of liquid-looking fire seemed to plummet to the altar and the tall stone columns began to sink into the floor. As some of the columns tilted sprays of fire shot from the ball at the center of the room. Flames sprung up between Cordelia and Angel, and she began to scream his name. In a flurry, Angel leapt over a column and shielded the young woman from a burst of flames. They bolted from the chamber and fell to the ground in the corridor. Angel fell on the hilt of the sword and felt several bones in his side nearly crack from the pressure as Cordelia fell on top of him.

"Ow, ah ah." Angel let spurt out. "I'm okay. I'm okay." He repeated as Cordelia moved off of him. Her eyes were quickly filling with tears and she rested her head on the vampire's shoulder. Angel reached a hand up to caress her hair. "It's okay. We're all right." He repeated.

"You wouldn't have known, that I can look at all of the horrible things you did as Angelus, that I can see all of it, and it doesn't matter to me. I love you Angel. And I'm just so afraid that I made such a mess of things with Connor that you would never be able to forgive me, and that I would never be able to tell you how sorry I am."

"Cordy, it doesn't matter." Angel said. "I can look at you too, you know. It doesn't matter to me what you've done either. Nobody's perfect, least of all me. I won't judge you." Cordelia pressed against him once more, this time letting her lips glide over Angel's. She waited for him to deepen the kiss, and when he didn't she pressed further. Taking the fullness of his lips into her mouth. She clawed at his back, pulling him closer, not noticing that Connor and Spike were now in the corridor, with Wesley trailing behind them.

Angel broke the kiss when he caught the scent of the other men. "Oh, Spike." Angel let out in a pained whisper. At the same time Cordelia found Connor's hurt eyes barreling into her. The teenager ran down the long hall of stone. Angel jumped to his feet and followed, after placing a quick hand on Spike's shoulder.

Angel caught up to his child in a torch lit alcove of the cave. He had barely entered the space when Connor took a step towards him, sending an arrow flying from the wall. The shaft buried itself deep in Angel's shoulder. Angel grabbed the arrow and pulled it out, thankful the end had been round, not barbed.

"I can see why she would want you." Connor sneered. "You are the reason my life sucks." He turned and faced the wall, stepping on another booby trapped floor panel. Angel flew through the air and tossed Connor to the ground just as a much thicker bolt of wood flew past his ear.

"It's the perfect place." Connor said as he brushed himself off and crouched to the ground. He threw out his left leg in a sweeping motion and caught Angel's legs just as he rose. The vampire fell to the ground once more. The fall triggered several more arrows and both men rolled across the floor to escape the barrage.

Angel rested his head against hers and said quietly, "I'll come back. For you, I'll always come back." He looked up just in time to see Spike racing out the doors of the hotel. He shuddered at the loss, but focused back on Cordelia. "I have to do this first, I have to find the Beast before we can be together." Just then the lobby's glass doors came crashing inwards. "Oh, there he is." Angel said, pulling the sword to the ready.

"Well, partly because you just broke a really expensive set of doors, partly because of the whole rain of fire, permanent midnight thing, but mainly because you are just really pissing me off." Angel rained several blows down on the beast. The sword's magics allowing it to cause real hurt. On the fourth swing, however, the Beast caught the blade and snapped it in two. Angel tried to pick up one of the shattered pieces, but he was picked up by the throat and suspended in the air before the demon. Angel felt the pressure on his windpipe growing and expected it to be crushed when he heard the clang of metal on the demon's magma covered skin. He opened his eyes enough to see Connor distract the demon. The Beast released Angel from his grip and let him fall to the ground. Connor continued to charge the demon as a diversionary tactic, but it was not long before he was hurdling across the room and smashing into the lobby's desk.

"His name is Angel." Connor answered. The Beast turned to look at his opponent just as Angel thrust a broken shard of the sword up under his neck and into his brain. Connor and Angel instinctively rolled as far from the Beast as the lobby would allow. The demon in turn exploded in a thousand rays of light, releasing a vibrant glow that briefly filled the hotel and then wafted into the night sky releasing the blackened fingers that had encompassed the sun for days.

"No, to whatever objection you were going to give. We have waited long enough. It has been seven years since I first saw you, and I have wanted you ever since. Now, we have saved the world, mended our fences, brought all of our friends back together. There are no more obstacles to climb Angel. It's just you and me now. The way it should be." She kissed him again. "No." She murmured through the kiss when she felt him pulling away again. Cordelia led Angel to the bed, unbuttoning his black shirt as they moved. She felt the backs of her knees meet the thick down of the comforter and sat down on the edge of the bed. She undid Angel's trousers and pulled him onto the bed with her.

The two lovers slipped under the covers and Angel fell into a rhythm of kisses and caressing over Cordelia. He took only seconds to fill her and find a pattern that was pleasing to them both. The sheer ecstasy of the moment was overwhelming to him. He arched his back to fill Cordelia further and felt his orgasm build as her cries grew louder. He closed his eyes and tried to stall his completion, but when he closed his eyes all he saw was Spike slipping out the lobby doors into the night. He continued to thrust into Cordelia, no longer trying to find a steady pace, he moved blindly and deeply, his climax filled her. A single word escaped his lips as he withdrew and fell back against the bed.

Angel opened his eyes tied to something cold and hard. The pulling in his chest had become a sharp pinching, but just as it reached its fever pitch, it was gone. He turned his head to see Cordelia and Spike looking at him. Looking at him through steel bars.

It was a simple enough question, but one Spike could not find an easy answer for. As soon as Angelus had returned Spike had felt a piece of himself slip away. Part of his goodness went into the ether with Angel's soul. He could not find a reason for the change, but he knew he had to get as far from his sire as possible.

"Yeah, well, there's always something." Spike said quietly. "Okay, so I've been having some fairly killer headaches this morning, the kind of headaches that usually end with a basement full of fledglings. So, I'm thinking that LA might not be the best place for me right now."

"I don't know what it's trying to do, all I know is that you have enough problems right now. You lot do not need the real Team Angel working against you, so I'm leaving." Spike gathered up his coat and took Angel's car keys from the counter.

"Sorry, Wes. Not your choice. I'm going back to Sunnydale, and I'm leaving now while it's dark. There I mean, since I'm thinking perma-night won't have hit that far north just yet." He gave a short hug to Fred and a nod to Wesley as he made for the lobby doors. "Just call me if you need me. If I don't answer my phone it means Buffy's got me chained to the bed."

"I'll go." Wesley stated, picking up a crossbow. "Everyone needs to watch the monitor. Listen to everything he says, he'll try to manipulate everything we say to him to turn us against each other. We can't let him. Keep your wits about you and we'll be fine."

"As I am you." Wesley said. He grabbed a wooden chair and placed it just outside the red border marking the safe distance outside of Angelus' cage. "The legendary Angelus. Here in all your glory. Well, most of your glory at least. We should have considered your comfort more."

"Yes. I tried to talk Angel into wearing the leather pants, as I know how you do love them." Wesley smiled at the picture he had painted as he took a seat and laid the crossbow across his lap. "Other than that, I assume you're comfortable."

"Wrong, watcher boy. There were some putrid attempts at poetry that Spike wrote in the late 1800's that will never be seen again." Angelus sneered. "That is unless you care to dig through petrified pig shit. I made him feed it to the swine hoping it would come out better on the other end."

"Well, that's a question. Not a very interesting question, but a question nonetheless." Angelus took a step closer to the bars of the cage, wrapping his long fingers around the bars. "I'll tell you this, where you're looking. Wrong place."

"Oh gee, is this the part where I'm supposed to get all defensive and tell you all of my evil plans? No wonder she doesn't want you. It must just make you nuts. Knowing that he's with her up in their room each night, rubbing that big shiny black head all over her milky skin. Throwing her down on the mattress as she calls out his name, and she does. Her arching her back to take that big black..."

"Oh, no fair changing the subject. I mean it's not like everyone doesn't already know about your little schoolyard crush. I mean she's a bit bony for my tastes, but you know different strokes. So what, you figure you save the day, giver her roses, then wham..." He said slamming his hands against the bars again. "You bend her over the kitchen table and..."

"Oh, yeah, let's talk about Cordelia shall we? Now there's a rack to write home about. Too bad about the personality. I mean really, yak, yak, yak." The vampire pantomimed an invisible Cordelia, "I love you, Angel, but we can't be together. You ate babies. Chicks." Angelus laughed at the recollection. "So what do you think is worse, Wesley? Kidnapping my kid like you did, or banging him like Cordelia did?"

Spike had hoped to make it back to Sunnydale in a few hours. That hadn't happened. He had only been on the road for about an hour when another blinding headache threatened to split his head open. He had pulled the car over just outside of LA and found a small motel, hoping to take enough of a rest to let the pain subside, that was two days ago.

He had given the manager an extra hundred dollars to keep him from calling the police, the screaming was upsetting the other guests, the man had said. Spike believed him. He was only able to stop for a few minutes at a time, and even then the echoes of his own voice were so loud in his head he could find no peace. Some time around dusk on the third day there had been a knock at the door. Spike was vaguely aware of a large body entering the room and holding out a glass of water to him. He took a drink, followed by another. Then a thick set of fingers pushed several pills into his mouth and forced him to drink again. There were no words of comfort, as one might expect, just the hands and shadows pouring the lukewarm water into his waiting mouth. And then the figure was gone.

"I must get to Sunnydale." He said to the room. The need to get out of this dingy place was overwhelming. He watched the last of the sun's rays slip into the distance and gathered up the few things he had managed to get out of the car after taking the room. As he was putting on his jacket he noticed a bottle on the nightstand with a small note.

"Okay. I'll get her." Willow made a dash for the door that led to the basement. Once downstairs she waded through a mass of teenage girls, narrowly missing a few swings of a broadsword and another from a mace. "Hey watch it or I'll turn you all into little hoppy toads."

Life in LA just wasn't what Angelus had remembered. The last time he and Angel had been here there had been demons and lynching, and a generally good time. Angel still drank human blood then, cold, coagulated blood, but human nonetheless. Now there weren't humans anywhere. At least none that hadn't already been sampled, and if there was anything worse than sloppy seconds Angelus couldn't think of it. His short draught from Lilah's already dead body notwithstanding he had a few years of thirst to quench.

He had tried to congratulate himself for escaping from his cage, but it was hardly a daring escapade. He'd had a harder time getting loose of leather pants than duping the morons at Angel Inc. It had taken all of an afternoon to get them so turned against each other the men were fist fighting while the girls offered to suck him off if he would just cooperate and help them kill Stonehenge. He had played along, even put up with the little light show Cordelia had put on trying to stuff the soul back down his throat, but he had to draw the line at the hugging. That was just too much, so while his exit had been a quick one it hadn't really involved more than a leap out a third story window.

Now he would be happy if he could just find a decent bar where the patrons were more than Anne Rice fans that had let themselves be turned in the vain hope that all vampires looked like Brad Pitt and Stuart Townsend. Good luck in LA, he told himself. The first few dives he had tried turned up little in the way of promising minions, and the third certainly wasn't any better, but he had heard a few rumblings about an insane vampire holed up on the other side of Valencia. A few of the fledglings sitting at the bar had heard it was William the Bloody and were planning on making a reputation for themselves by dusting him while he was in a fit.

Once Angelus had made sure that all three vampires would fit in a baggie he made a quick detour to the Motel 6. It was so pathetic watching the childe he had once tormented writhe in pain that he couldn't even bring himself to rape him. He'd have plenty of time for that later.

"Dawn, Hi." He said, "Yeah, it's me. Is your sister home? She is?" He hung up the phone. "Great, it's the other one." He said as he headed for the warehouse district in search of one more bar that he had heard might have some decent company.

"Then you're a fool." Spike said. "You cannot trust me. There is something seriously wrong with me. Something wrong with the chip, and since the First has already found more than one way to set me loose, I think this is the only place left for me to be until you..."

"Hello," Buffy said into the phone, "I'd like to order a dozen roses for Agent Riley Finn." She gave Spike a questioning look as he sat on the stairs and clutched at his head. The bottle of pills was nearly empty so he had tried to space them further out, blindingly further apart.

"No, he works there, Agent Riley Finn. Maybe I'm not supposed to say that. Is this actually a flower shop, or is this still the number for special ops. Oh, maybe I'm not supposed to say that either. Please make the card say that Spike's chip is misfiring and that I need it, well I don't know what I need. Can you sign it Seeking Answers in Sunnydale? Oh, okay, just Buffy then. Um, all right, I guess that's it."

She turned to Spike and hung up the phone. She then took a seat beside him on the stairs and ran her fingers through his tangled hair. "Well, that was either a wrong number or an elaborate government conspiracy." She continued to stroke the vampire's hair. "It's going to be all right. They'll call back. They'll help, Spike."

Finding the Beast had only taken a matter of hours with the help of some otherwise useless vamps that had been lucky enough to spot him entering a little used warehouse the night before. Although the vampires in question were terminally stuck in the eighties, right down to the Pacino and Flock of Seagulls haircuts, they had proved a good enough distraction for Wesley. He and Faith, the Vampire Slayer, had managed to track him to the warehouse, no doubt using his creepy offspring as a bloodhound. Although Connor had not arrived with them, he could smell the boy on Faith's clothes as she wandered the dark aisles of the building.

His game of cat and mouse had been rather short. He had been waiting for years to meet her again. Unlike the elder slayer, this one had an edge to her. Definitely a few qualities he wouldn't mind sinking his fangs into. He had delivered her into the hands of the Beast, hoping the walking pile of magma could soften her up a bit. He knew he wasn't physically as strong as the slayer, but hoped that after a few rounds with the Beast she wouldn't put up quite as much of a fight. It was amusing watching her taught body being tossed around, the blood that dripped from the dozens of cuts that now covered his body only served to excite him to the point he couldn't wait any longer.

He stepped up beside the Beast as he taunted the fallen Slayer, enjoying her prone position immensely; Angelus let the moment linger. As the Beast went in for the killing blow Angelus took the sheath that the Beast had forged for his "master" from the inside pocket of his coat.

"You know Faithy, the only thing that could hurt him is him." He thrust the jagged knife into the center of the demon's back where he couldn't reach it. As the Beast flailed he threw Angelus to the ground, where he watched as the Beast exploded into a cloud of dust. The light that flew from the body was momentarily blinding, it flew towards the sky in a powerful stream and released the tendrils that had blocked out the sun for days.

"Oh, crap. You mean killing the Beast really does bring back the sun? I thought that was just Angel's retarded fantasy." Angelus picked himself up off the floor and sidestepped the heavy cables that Faith had sent flying at him. "Oh, nice try, but a swing and a miss." He turned just in time to see the chains break through the large window that stood behind him, letting in a bright swath of sunlight. He moved into the shadows and brushed at the front of his jacket as it started to smolder. "Just you and me now, Faithy."

It hadn't taken long to find the partially sealed entrance to what had once been the Initiative headquarters. The halls inside were pitch black and as their flashlights scanned the walls Buffy and Spike saw bodies left half decomposed throughout the compound.

"Oh yeah. When they first put the bloody thing in me I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to kill them all. Every time one of those little white-coated wankers walked past the glass my brain would implode. Then they'd shoot me full of the happy juice and I'd be okay. For a while at least." Spike took the lead and made his way through another grouping of dead demons. As he rounded a corner near the main laboratory he heard a scuffling sound that made him jump. Buffy had heard the noise as well and was now close on his heels.

"Would have preferred to not find out." Spike answered. He took a few more steps forward before he was lunged at by a foul smelling demon dressed in rags. As soon as he turned to retaliate the chip fired and sent him to the ground. He struggled to keep hold of his flashlight and aim it at the demon so Buffy could fight it, but the light he shone was wavering at best. He lay on the floor, helpless. Spike tried to keep an eye on the Slayer as she pinned the demon to the ground but as she fought she was forced to let go of her own flashlight. Spike's heightened eyesight allowed him to see most of the action as long as he was able to keep his eyes open. It was, however, only a minute before the battle, for him, was reduced to the grunts and clanging of the Slayer and the demon that was quickly gaining the upper hand on her.

Spike closed his eyes and tried to will his brain to stop throbbing, but he received a renewed volley of pain when suddenly two dozen flashlights illuminated the area in front of him and the sound of a tazer gun rang through the air. He opened his eyes enough to see Buffy toss the dead demon off of her and a group of soldiers begin to move closer.

The sound of dozens of feet hitting the carpet. Every sink in the house running. A toilet flushing. Milk being slopped into a bowl full of something crackling. A can tossed into the recycling bin. Doors shutting. More feet, this time on the stairs. Chattering. Whining. The clang of swords. The pulling back of a crossbow string. A book tossed on the coffee table.

"There better not be. You have no idea what I had to do to get these pipes replaced." She looked at the intricate plumbing that lined the basement's ceiling, realizing seconds later that even after days of mind bending pain Spike knew exactly how to push her buttons.

Spike placed a hand in hers, grateful she did not withdraw. He then rested his head back against the cold concrete wall and closed his eyes. "I don't want to leave you." He kept his eyes closed, hoping she would be less tense without him watching her reactions.

He spoke slowly, careful to think out his reply. "No, we don't. I wish I could tell you that the voices stopped when the chip came out, but they're still there, a quiet little whisper, always there. Which is why I have to go back to Ang...Los Angeles. I need to be away from you when the First activates me again. I can't risk hurting you." He broke from her stare. "I can't hurt you again."

Her soft hand pulled his gaze back to her own. She left her hand on his cheek, her warm comforting hand. "I know you won't hurt me. I trust you. Really, I do, William." She leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were soft, not the hard lips he remembered. She did not kiss him to forget her life or to mock him. It was a kiss of friendship, letting him know he was part of the circle. Part of the group.

"Right, I keep forgetting that's your specialty." With that and a smile of her own Buffy went back upstairs, letting the din float down into the basement when she opened the door, and thankfully closing it back out once the door was shut.

He had left a little later than he had planned on. It had taken hours to get up the nerve to actually point the car at Los Angeles. Hours he had spent driving around Sunnydale, absorbing the fact that he had no little device in his brain to make him behave. Hours spent with the knowledge that he could feed, feed on anyone he wanted to. He watched the girls dressed in black and red streaming out of the Bronze, slightly liquored, easy pickings. He could have any of them. Any he wanted.

He had not gone to the ends of the earth to get a soul only to add to the body count now. So, finally he had steered onto the freeway and started towards L.A. Towards Angelus. He was going back to kill his sire, and he was fully aware of it. There was no longer any doubt in his mind why he felt compelled to go back. Spike had considered freeing Faith. Telling Buffy. Telling Willow. He could have told Giles, although Giles had left Buffy's house in a snit as soon as she told him about the chip situation. But, in the end he decided to tell no one. He kept the knowledge of what the Angel Investigations team had done under wraps, leaving the Sunnydale faction in the dark figuratively, while the L.A. faction was in the dark literally.

Or at least they had been. Spike thought as he neared the Los Angeles city limits and saw that the sun was rising there as well. He pressed his foot down on the pedal harder, making the engine whine. It had not even crossed his mind that the sun would be restored by the time he returned. He should have felt it coming. His senses were a bit fuzzy after his lost weekend, but he still chided himself for letting his most powerful instinct dull.

The Belvedere pulled into the alley beside the Hyperion moments before the sun's rays turned fatal. Spike hurried inside the lobby, grateful he had stopped his goodbyes in Sunnydale when he did. One more hug and he would have been an immolation-o-gram, not the breath of fresh air he usually was to the Angel gang. He laughed at his own joke, but was cut short by the site of the Slayer staring agape at him.

A scream had pierced the hotel's quiet interior and torn Gunn from his comic book, and now he and Faith were both running up the stairs towards Fred's room. Faith kicked the door in and charged into the small anteroom, with Gunn close behind her. Both stopped in their tracks when they saw Spike holding Fred's limp body in a vampire's embrace. He looked up at them with a blood-coated smile and dropped his meal on the floor.

"No, Fred first, deadboy second." He said as he ran out of the room. Faith picked Fred's lithe body up with little strain and followed him down the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she almost dropped her cargo tripping over Wesley's semi-conscious body.

At first the sensation had been nearly too heady to stand. Where a few moments before he was so tired he felt ready to collapse, Spike now felt invigorated. He had run through the sewers with speed that alarmed even him. He now popped in and out of corners, looking out for signs the slayer was following him, but found none. He had done it. He didn't know why but he found himself not caring just then. He felt like a new man, or maybe an old man depending on how you looked at it. He knew there were two things he had to do: find a drugstore that had sewer access and then Angelus.

The bar was hardly high class. The interior resembled a sixties-era Denny's, with green carpet and gold walls, the clientele was equally as appealing. Angelus had seen some demons in here that could really turn your stomach. One impressively vile Grothnar demon had tried to start a fight when someone mentioned Angelus was the one to thank for the return of the sun, but had reconsidered after the vampire tore off two of the spikes that protruded from the demons back and used then to stab his companions. Angelus had sat at a table in the back of the bar ever since, sipping on a bloody Mary, or maybe she had said her name was Susan. Didn't matter, he though to himself as he took another drink.

He had closed his eyes for a second trying to block out the hideousness of his situation. Angelus, Scourge of Europe sitting around a demon bar nursing a drink. It was not the lifestyle he was used to. He should have servants, a home, Darla. Angel had gotten rid of everything, and Angelus was getting more and more pissed off about it with every moment.

"Well, yeah." Spike answered. He then sat down in the booth, across from his sire and bit into the wrist of the girl Angelus had been snacking on. After a long drink, Spike wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, sucking on it for a moment and then licking off the last remnants of blood.

"This place looks like Marakesh." Spike pointed out as he and Angelus drifted from room to room. The bar's back room had been converted into a harem of sorts. Vampires lined the walls while their willing victims, mostly female, lay in a dozen positions giving easy access to anyone who cared to drink. Spike saw a particularly enticing brunette sprawled out on a silk covered divan and went to take a bite when Angelus stopped him.

"Not at first, but once you taste the junk in her veins you'll want to throw up." Angelus said as he pulled on Spike's arm and led him through a hanging of orange sheers that covered the next room's door. The pair had barely made it through the door when a booming voice rang in Angelus's ears.

"Nope." Angelus freed himself from his own trousers and pressed into Spike, pleasantly surprised to find him extremely lubricated. "Why you vixen, you planned on seducing me did you?" Angelus asked as he ran his tongue up the side of Spike's neck, leaving a slick trail, which he then bit softly.

"I'm inclined to agree." Spike breathed out. Angelus had none of Angel's tenderness. Sex to Angelus was nothing short of ecstasy, the ultimate control over his childe. Angelus knew exactly where to press, how to bend, when to push. He would make Spike climax at precisely the moment he wanted to and not a second earlier. Angelus finished his suckling at Spike's expense and pressed a hand onto Spike's back pressing him into the couch. The new angle allowed him even deeper access and Spike growled at the sensation. Soon he was unable to hold back and knew that Angelus had timed their releases as perfectly as if they had been synchronized swimmers. Both men rocked back and forth, milking the last drop out of the experience as they collapsed onto the crushed velvet of the divan.

"If I were a runic transcription guide I would be..." Fred asked herself as she looked over the bookshelves in Angel's office. She clutched a hand over the wound on her neck as she cocked her head to the side to better read the titles in front of her.

"Sanctuary spell, uh huh, figured. That's why I picked this up." He said, twirling a talisman around his finger. "This little trinket let's me be as demony as I wanna be. Which means that if I want to finish the job sweet William started, you can't do a thing to stop me." He said, stepping close enough to force Fred against the wall.

"Okay then." Angelus said. "I'll just take these." He gathered up the book that Lilah had bought on the transdimensional black market. "And these." He picked up the information Wolfram and Hart had plucked from Lorne's brain. "Maybe these." He added Wesley's notes to his growing pile. "And last, but not least." He lunged at Fred and pinned her against the desk, making sure to grab the hand that was reaching for the gun. "Ah, ah, no fair."

"Why Winifred, would I want to kill you? You're just so yummy. It will be so much more fun to keep you alive." He pressed his body against hers again, this time harder and bit into the mark Spike had left. Seconds wasn't always intolerable, at least not when it was in the family. "Be seeing you." He said taking a last lick. He then ran out of the office, papers under his arm. Angelus turned around just in time to catch a tranq dart in the book. "Nice try, kitten." He tossed the talisman at her feet and dashed out the front door into the fresh evening air and past Wesley and Faith so quickly neither had time to react.

Faith followed Wesley into the back room of a demon bar that had looked promising. A few vamps at the last place had said they heard Angelus liked the atmosphere, which given the prominence of green and gold Faith somehow doubted. Nonetheless, a horned demon sitting at the bar said he had been there earlier when Angelus had some kind of fit. They made their way through the denizens of vamps and victims until they came into a room with a strung out blonde who asked Faith to make out. As soon as they entered the room a vampire threw himself at Faith. She dodged him and tossed him to the floor.

"No, please it hurts. He just kept humming this tune, I didn't recognize it. Please take it out." Wesley pulled the knife all the way out and the girl crumpled to the floor. He wiped the knife off on his pants and placed it back inside his coat.

"It's an incredible high, or so I'm told. For both the girl and the vampire that uses her as a filter." Wesley said with a disgusted look at the groups of vampires and humans that filled every dark corner of the halls they passed through.

"Good, then don't you dare lecture me about battle strategy. Whatever was controlling the Beast has made contact with Angelus. Playtime is over." He stepped over another drugged up girl and left the bar. It was time to pay Maury's shop a visit.

Angelus strolled through the aisles at a pace more reminiscent of a Sunday walk than a hunter on the prowl. "You know Faithy, when I said it was just us now I really underestimated Spike here's love of the game." Spike kicked Wesley in the midriff and then dropped a knee onto his shoulder. "You see, what you all seem to keep forgetting is that the powers like me. They want me to be happy. So they sent a little birdie to tell me exactly where you'd be. And look...here you are." He flew through the air and tackled the slayer, tossing her to the ground.

"Oh not cool Wesley. You know those things are never helpful." Angelus rushed at the former watcher so fast he could not get another shot off. Angelus grabbed the barrel of the gun and thrust it against Wesley's jaw, sending him flying again. Spike recommenced his assault and battered Wesley about the head and shoulders until he was unconscious.

"Too bad." Angelus said pointing the barrel at her and cocking the gun. He then pumped it again, and then several more times until the gun was empty. "But you're not going to die like this." He used the butt of the gun to crack several of her ribs then tossed it aside. Spike let her off the ground. She spun around and caught Angelus in the stomach with her heel. He returned with a punch to her face and then a kick of his own.

Spike stood back waiting for a moment when he was needed. As he watched Angelus tossed Faith through the air, landing her only a few feet from Wesley. Spike walked over to his sire, noticing a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. He grabbed Angelus by the hips and drew him into a kiss, ending it only to lap at the blood streaming down his chin.

"With this rabble? Not likely." He turned his attention back to the slayer. "You know the sad part Faithy? If you would just accept the fact that you are an animal, a murderer, you'd be so much happier." He blocked her incoming punch and kicked her in the ribs again. "I could beat you to death, but it wouldn't matter one bit. You won't accept who you are, and next to power-walking that's the saddest thing on earth." He took a couple of her punches in stride, then continued. "Do you still want someone to beat the bad out of you Faithy?"

The two vampires had only been drinking from the Slayer for a moment when Spike felt a thump rattle through his brain as though he had been hit by a sledge hammer. He fell away from Faith's body and landed hard on the concrete floor behind him. He lay semi-conscious watching his lover through rapidly closing eyes as he too let go of his prey and fell next to him. Spike was aware of his surroundings in only the vaguest of senses. He heard another body crash to the ground a few meters away and saw a blur that must have been Wesley trying to stand. He then looked over to Angelus and heard rumblings that could hardly be called words. "Spike." He heard clearly. Was he calling his name or talking about the blood? He couldn't be sure, but as he lay his head back against the coolness of the floor he decided Angelus must have been talking to him. His last thought had to be of him. Spike closed his eyes a final time and slipped into a sleep so deep he felt he was falling into a canyon devoid of light.

Across the room Wesley had managed to tear his cell phone from his inner pocket and dialed Gunn. Wesley gave him the address of the occult shop and told him to hurry. He pushed the end call button and turned his attention to Faith. She had managed to stand up and was now pressing her hands against the puncture marks on either side of her neck.

"Kicked their asses." She said motioning to the collapsed forms behind her. She started to speak again but felt a wave of dizziness cloud over her, she then had the faintest sense of falling, a feeling that did not leave even after she had hit the ground. She kept falling until all that surrounded her was emptiness.

"I don't know, Wesley called I went." Gunn answered, rapidly checking the ropes that bound Angelus's hands and feet. "`Bout damn time." He said to Connor as the boy came running down the stairs. "Get the shackles from behind the counter; I only had rope in my truck."

Upstairs, Lorne held Faith's hand as Fred sponged her forehead off. She then worked her way to the wounds that circled the Slayer's neck, wiping off the dried blood. Faith shook her off in her sleep, her eyes moving with force behind her closed lids, betraying the calm that her sleep-like state implied.

Spike arose in a daze. He put a hand to his forehead and batted away a long lock of hair that had been covering his eyes. "How long was I out." He asked himself. He looked around, turning once to better see the lavishly furnished room he was standing in. He had expected to wake up in the occult shop, or at the very least the cage in the hotel. This place looked remarkably like his mother's home, right down to the music box that had sat on her end table when he had been alive. He took a deep breath in through his nose taking in the scent of the room. He gasped as his nostrils filled with the familiar scent of saffron and lavender that his mother had inhaled daily to combat the tuberculosis that was eating away at her.

Spike walked further into the room savoring the scents of his human youth, scents he thought were long gone to him. It was then that he passed a mirror, he gave it no thought until he saw a glimmer of a reflection moving behind him. Not his own, he was sure of it, he was close to the mirror and the face he saw seemed far away. He turned to see who had cast the familiar visage in the looking glass. He felt a tear hit the back of his hand as he looked at a face he had not seen in more than a century. He saw William. The man he had been, and the man he had so recently sought to be again.

William was reading out his poetry to what Spike thought was an empty couch. He cringed slightly at the inanity of the words that streamed forth in a voice that was his, but not his. It lacked the confidence that came with a hundred years of living. It was still the voice of a young man who had never spent more than a week outside of London. It held the lilt of someone aiming to please, and as Spike walked closer to the ghost before him he saw why. Seated on the couch, clutching at her handkerchief was his mother. His beautiful mother, alive, and hanging on every dripping syllable that escaped William's lips. She smiled at him a look that only a child who has known true love recognizes. It was a look Spike had wanted to receive for the past dozen decades. It struck him like a locomotive to finally see it again.

Spike crouched down on the floor and listened to her voice coo over the words he had written so long ago. A brief coughing fit stopped her for a moment, but as soon as it had passed she asked her son to sit with her while she sang the sweetest words into the top of his head. She stroked his hair softly as she alternately sang and hummed a melody.

The air was cold like a river wind when the two vampires and the Slayer stepped onto the street. Looking around they saw few cars on the street, but the evidence of an emerging automobile town were there, a lone gas pump outside a mercantile store, a display of road maps in a shop window, and a repair shop on the corner. One restaurant boasted a sign on the door that read "LEFTOVERS AVAILABLE IN BACK AFTER 6PM".

"What's the matter, deadboy? Don't like the view? Pretty mountains, lots of green, lots of... Holy shit! Is that you?" Across the street on the sidewalk stood Angel, clean cut and shaven, although his clothes looked haggard and his shoes could barely be called such.

"Oh I remember this place. We've got to get out of here before it starts again." Angelus watched as his alter ego crossed the street and headed behind the restaurant. The trio followed and watched him stand in line with what seemed like half the town. "Fucking Montana. A million acres and not enough people growing food, this is pathetic."

"Do we have to watch this? It's disgusting." Angel made it to the front of the line and accepted a bowl full of thick stew. As soon as he stepped away the man at the door announced that was all they had for the night and shut the door as quickly as possible. Most of the people who had been waiting went back onto the street, either piling into cars to leave or finding a bench in front of the run down businesses to rest on. Angel looked at the bowl in his hand, ready to take a bite when he noticed one family, a woman and her four stick-thin children, banging on the door begging the man to throw out anything that might be left. Angel turned back to the restaurant and handed the woman his bowl. He then took off his jacket and gave it to one of the shivering children. The woman tried to thank him, but Angel waved her off and slipped into the crowd of people milling on the sidewalks, and then passed out of view completely.

"Angelus, you're in hell, you're reliving Angel's good deeds. Wicked." Faith started walking down the sidewalk and stopped in front of the mercantile. "Either of you got any money on you? I'm dying for a smoke." She opened the door and entered, once again she found herself in William's lush living room, only this time she was face-to-face with Drusilla.

Drusilla slid her hand into William's and pulled him into the middle of the room. She twirled about as in a dream and William could not help but watch. His new keener eyesight let him see every flash of color that whirled from her petticoats; each glimmer of yellow that flashed in her eyes as she shot feral looks at him.

"Yes, this is my home, but don't worry about getting too attached to it. We'll ravage all of Europe soon enough. We`ll show no mercy." He took her hand once again and helped her spinning. She finally stopped and fell onto the deep burgundy of the couch, petticoats ruffling.

"You're quite insatiable aren't you?" He purred as he joined her on the couch and pressed into her cool mouth. He slid his arms under hers and flipped her over, pinning her to the cushions with a fierce kiss. After a moment he broke the kiss to stare into her huge brown eyes. "Oh, Drusilla, we'll lay waste to this town. As soon as the sun sets we'll drink them all. The three of us will show no mercy."

"I cured her." Spike said defensively. "She was dying and I gave her eternal life. I did it out of love." He turned away from the vision of his mother's now limp body. William bit into his wrist and let the blood trickle over the woman's lips for a moment before she latched on with her dying breath and swallowed greedily. Spike closed his eyes and walked out of the hallway and into a florescent lighted cafe.

"Does it really matter?" Angelus said through gritted teeth. Faith's laughing was nearly enough to make him reach for a stake. She had spotted a pleather-clad Angel sitting at the diner's bar. He stood up and went to the jukebox, dropping a couple of dimes in and making his selections. A few seconds later Barry Manilow crooned from the speakers and Angel shook his head in semi-rhythm to the music, his long hair swaying with the motion.

"This isn't even the worst part. The worst was the concerts. Thousands of people crammed together, their blood pumping, energy riding high. Chicks just begging for a bite, and he just listened to the music, ignoring the girls throwing themselves at his feet. We haven't fed on a living human for decades and he just keeps on smiling."

"You think it's that simple don't you?" Angelus asked, leaning across the table. "You think they put the soul back in and I'm just gone? That's not how it works. I'm always here, Faithy. Deep in, Angel's will is just me with a little sugar on top."

"We'll see." Angelus said, turning his attention to the man whom had entered a moment ago. As they watched he pulled a gun from his coat and pointed it at the young cashier. He yelled for him to open the till and the boy tried, but his fingers shook so badly that he couldn't press the right buttons. Angel watched from his vantage point at the bar, unsure how to react. The man shouted again, this time waving the gun wildly, accidentally firing. The bullet caught the cashier in the middle of his chest and the assailant ran out of the diner.

Angel bolted out of his seat and went to the man lying on the floor. His shirtfront was covered in blood and his breath became more rapid each second. "It's going to be okay." Angel said to him, trying to lift his head from the floor, but the young man jolted violently and his head went limp in Angel's hand.

Angel released the door handle and turned the lock. He then ran a hand over the blinds that covered the glass door, concealing what was about to happen from the outside world. With a twist of his head he let his demon rise to the surface and lifted the dead man from the floor. "I'm so sorry." He said before biting into the man's neck deeply and hungrily devouring the still warm blood that poured from the wound. He took several deep drinks before letting the man fall back to the floor. Angel looked heavenward and screamed in agony as the fresh blood coursed through his veins.

Spike and Angelus watched in amusement as a look of disgust crossed the Slayer's face. She was finally at a loss for words, but as she watched the two vampires sitting across from her the wounds on her neck began to bleed freely. She raised her hands to stop the flow but it wouldn't stop.

"You see I'm always there, just below the surface. Come on," he said to the Slayer, "you remember how fabulous that blurry line tastes. It's no different to him. The champion, the avenger, they're all just names. Angel is a vampire, just like us, you'd do well to remember that."

William entered the parlor and found the couch, where his mother's body had been lying when he left, empty. A faint song from the music box caught his ear and he followed it into his mother's bedchamber. She was singing to herself in a voice that was slightly foreign to William. "How could you use a poor maiden so?" She sang, although it seemed to the young vampire that her voice lacked the sweetness he remembered.

"You've no need to thank me, mother. Seeing you this way is reward enough." He hurried to take her hand. "And how shall we spend your first night? Dancing, a party, a splendid dinner? The night is yours to do what you please. Tell me mother, what shall your pleasure be?"

"Well you don't think I'm going to spend eternity listening to any more of your prattle do you? Or watching you and your trollop defile my home. No I will take my leave of you, as I should have done the day you were born. Had I known what an incredible bore you would become I would have dashed your brains out the day you slithered from my womb."

"No, of course you don't. You never understood anything unless a woman told you what you should feel, or think. You thought you could make me a slave to you. A slave you could carry around for all time. Your whole life I prayed some woman would come and take you away and release me from you, but you have spent your whole life trying to get back inside me. And now you've done it haven't you?"

"It is true!" She yelled, placing a strong hand on his shoulder and turning him around. "When you sank your teeth into my neck you finally achieved in death what you could not in life. And now you want to finish the job, you want to take me. Don't you William. Don't you William!" She screamed at him.

"No, Mother, I loved you, but never like this. Not like this." He tried to escape her grasp but she held him firm, pinning him to a wall and trying to kiss him. He shoved her off but she kept coming. He pushed he back into a chair and tried to escape the room.

William turned back to her. "Mother, I loved you." She grabbed a cane that sat beside the chair and lunged at him, the cane in the air she beat him about the head, letting her demon come to the surface, her thin elongated fangs jutting from her mouth as she continued to curse him. She batted at him again breaking the cane in two when she missed his head and hit the bureau. William grabbed the splintered wood from her hand and tried to hold her at bay, but the woman continued to rush him.

Faith and Angelus watched Spike's solemn reaction. Tears lined his cheeks as he watched the death of his mother for the second time. He then watched his younger self take the music box and wind it up. The song seemed louder in the aftermath of the screaming. William hummed along for a moment and then threw the box against the large mirror that hung from the wall, ending the song, and shattering the illusions that the mirror had shown.

"When isn't this?" Angelus asked, rising from a large mound of filth. This is everyday after that stupid diner. He just gave up, stopped being around humans, stopped feeding." They watched in horror as Angel emerged from a group of garbage cans and leapt for the large rat. He grabbed it up and took a huge bite out of its side. "For twenty years his hands never smelled of anything but rat."

"You are not going to die here." Angel said firmly. He threw a combination of punches to Angelus's midsection, then pivoted off the wall and landed a swift kick across his cheek. Angelus retaliated with a series of blows, knocking Angel to the ground for a moment before he could jump back up.

"Hello, anyone notice a fight with your alter ego going on here?" Angelus asked. He picked Angel up by the lapels and threw him over his head. "That's for the Manilow concerts, you son of a bitch!" He yelled as Angel hit the brick wall next to Faith.

In the lobby of the Hyperion Willow held the Orb of Thesula and chanted in Rumanian. Fred repeated the same Latin phrases over and over, while Wesley moved bunches of herbs around them, letting the smoke from their burning ends cloud over the orb.

Faith ran down the stairs, through the lobby where Willow was still chanting, and down into the basement. Her instincts had been right. Connor stood at the bottom of the stairs, stake in hand and Gunn was lying on the floor. She looked into the cage and saw Spike struggling to sit up and move away from the bars.

"Break me off a switch son, there's gonna be a beating." She slammed Connor against the bars face first and held him there. While they watched Angelus's eyes opened and filled with an orange glow. A deep gasp escaped his lips and pain filled every millimeter of his face. He closed his eyes again and the pain left his face.

"I know." Connor said. He unlocked the cage and then the irons that held the vampires. Angel tried to give him a hug once he was free but Connor resisted. He was almost out of the cage when Spike lunged at him, slamming him to the floor.

"We are neither pulling up shop nor giving you LA. We are just offering to give you control of the Los Angeles offices of Wolfram and Hart." Lilah reclined on one of the couches that dotted the lobby and smiled at the group. Her gaze rested on Spike, but the others seemed not to notice.

"Oh, I know, doll." Lilah avoided eye contact with Fred and replied looking at Angel. "No one ever really plans these things. But trust me, before the night is over Wolfram and Hart will owe you all one big debt of gratitude. We just decided to jump the gun a bit in case someone makes you a better offer first."

"Ding ding ding ding. And extra points for alliteration." Lilah stood up and walked up the steps to the landing and turned back to the group. "Tell you what, I'll send a limo by an hour or so before dawn tomorrow and if any of you want to hear more you can get it straight from the horse's mouth. Take a tour, see for yourself."

"No, we can handle this. Fred would you go upstairs and get Connor and Cordelia? We better get everyone working. I think this is going to be a long night." Angel nodded to Spike and he too picked a sword from the wall and followed Angel out the doors of the Hyperion.

Angel and Spike had wandered the area around the hotel by foot for half an hour looking for anything out of the ordinary, and finding none. The city was slowly creeping back to what could only be called LA normal. It was not a normal other parts of the country would recognize, but at least there were only the usual demons that lurked in shadows and no longer the non-stop feeding frenzy that had all but engulfed the city for the past several weeks.

"All the same, maybe we better make use of these rippling butt muscles and hurry back. Big evil brewing, don't want to be out here alone, do we now." Spike turned a mischievous grin on his sire and took a step in front of him, to give a better view of the aforementioned muscles.

"Yeah, well seen that." Angel said. "Barfed it up." He added quietly as he turned the handle on the door. He heard a quiet moaning coming from within the room, but it was too dark to see. There was a single candle burning near the bed that cast an orange luminescence on the tableau before the group.

Connor was leaning over Cordelia's nearly naked body holding a dagger dripping with blood. Cordelia's eyes were shut and she was chanting in a hushed voice, it was a language neither Wesley nor Angel recognized. As she chanted her breathing grew more erratic and her skin began to glisten with sweat. It only took a second for all of the eyes in the room to focus in on her stomach. A collective gasp filled the room as each of them took in the scene. The dagger continued to drip rivulets of blood onto her stomach, which was huge and moved as if something were trying to punch its way out. Angel forced himself to pull his view from Cordelia to his son, who was openly weeping as the crimson liquid flowed from his hand.

"Darla." Connor said, as tears began to flow in a steady stream from his eyes. His tears mingled with the blood that nearly coated Cordelia's stomach as he said his mother's name. "My mother was here, and now I know Cordy's gone." He leaned his head down to the form lying on the bed and kissed her forehead. "Goodbye." He whispered so quiet none but Angel and Spike heard him. Both vampires took a quick step forward, but too late to stop Connor from raising the dagger high above his head and plunging it into the stomach before him, pressing through bone and flesh as he screamed out.

"Nooooooooo!" Angel screamed as he lunged at his son and tried to pull the knife out of Cordelia's stomach, but he was knocked back from the bed by a flash of light and air that burst forth from her body. A wave of heat so powerful it left scorch marks on the ceiling emanated from the body. Where the blade had entered there was now a rift of some sort forming. It looked as if tendrils were going to sprout from the wound, a dozen arms seemed to glisten within the light and wave at the air surrounding Cordelia's body. Then the room filled with a horrid shrieking that blasted the ears in the room and sent the entire group to the floor in a wave of pain.

Angel, Spike, and Gunn were the first to rise to their feet, weapons in hand, ready to battle whatever sprang from the rift. The wailing hit a fever pitch and then it was gone. Just as suddenly as the screaming had begun it drifted into the ether and the light went with it, leaving only the flickering glow of the candle and the bleeding body that it had come from.

Fred and Wesley pried themselves from the floor and came to stand beside the bed. Cordelia looked as if she were just slumbering, and despite the copious amounts of blood that coated her body as they watched the wounds inflicted by the dagger wove themselves together seamlessly. Within seconds there was no evidence that she had just been the victim of a mythical pregnancy, or that her lover had just killed whatever had been growing within her.

"She lied." Connor said again as if it were an answer to any questions Angel might ask. Seeing that none of those before him were satisfied or comprehending he continued. "She told me you would try to kill our baby, just like you tried to kill me when I was still inside my mother."

Connor tried to meet his father's stare, but the pain was beginning to overwhelm him. "She said our baby was worth one innocent life. She said the baby...The baby was a bringer of peace, she said. She said. She said. It wasn't her." He screamed. Then turning his focus back to the body on the bed, Connor dropped to his knees and wept. "It was never you. You are not Cordelia." He closed his eyes and crumpled to the floor mumbling the words. "You never loved me, never loved me." Connor then rose to his knees again and grabbed at the bed sheets surrounding the comatose form. He screamed and clawed at the bed, pounding his fists into it.

Angel tried to process the words his child cried, but knew that there would be time for that later. Now he just had to try to make it right. He too fell to his knees and took the boy in his arms. Angel tried to hold him tight enough that the pain wouldn't be able to break through his grasp. He stroked the boy's hair and rocked him gently, sparing only a fleeting glimpse to his lover, whose eyes were also filled with tears. Spike sat beside them, but made no move to intrude on the intimacy of their embrace.

"I know, but since Wolfram and Hart knew more about what was going on in this hotel than we did, I'm thinking it's worth a conversation." Angel said. "Everyone should get some sleep. We have an early morning, at least those of us who are going do." With a final nod he took Spike's hand and led him up the stairs, leaving the others to decide on their own if they wanted to take the trip.

The sun was still an hour off when Gunn entered the courtyard. The scent of dew covered jasmine and ivy almost buried the deep smog in the air. Almost, he thought as he took in a deep breath. He took a tentative step nearer the archway that led to the street.

"Don't look at me like that." Spike said casting his eyes to the ground. He softened his tone and continued. "We are talking about Evil Inc. You know the ones that brought Darla back just to make you insane, they had the oracles killed to sever your link with them, made you drink your own son's blood, any of this getting through to you?"

"Listen to me please," Angel said, placing a finger under Spike's chin to raise his head, "they did all those things and more. I haven't forgotten that, but Cordy is in a coma, if that's even her, Lilah is walking around like nothing happened, and Connor is just lost. If Wolfram and Hart can give me some piece to the puzzle that I am missing and help me help them, I have to go. I have to try to save them."

"Tell me about it, add that to my fabulous good looks and it's nearly interminable." Spike stood up. "Right then, time to go, your pets will be waiting." He grabbed Angel's coat from the closet and placed it in his sire's hands. Angel took the proffered garment and held onto his childe's hand.

The limo ride had not been completely uncomfortable. The mini bar was stocked, which was a very good thing considering the nerves of the five people inside. While they all agreed that five am was generally speaking too early for cocktails all involved agreed to keep it their little secret. The effects of the alcohol had calmed their nerves, but when Angel realized the blood he was drinking was human not pig's he refocused himself on their destination.

"Fine, right." Fred agreed. The others remained silent, no one wanting to be the first to say out loud just how insane the past twenty-four hours had turned them. They were riding in a limo to Wolfram and Hart while Connor and Cordelia lay at the hotel asleep with only Spike guarding them. Not exactly the safety in numbers policy they had adhered to since the Beast had first arrived.

The elevator door chimed as it opened revealing a bustling workday at Wolfram and Hart. There were more than a hundred people racing across the vast lobby; they rushed to meetings, ushered clients through the myriad doors that lined the upper terrace of the firm. There had been nothing but crushed stone and marble when the group had last been here, there was now a fully remodeled and modernized interior. Everything had been changed from the somber grays and blues that had defined the space before to clean whites and vaulted ceilings. Even the many windows seemed to radiate in the early morning sun, which admittedly made Angel a little nervous.

"Now is that anyway to start your day?" A familiar voice asked. They turned their attention back to the lobby and saw Lilah before them once again. Angel fought back the urge to snap her neck in frustration and be done with it but realized it would probably do little good, seeing as how she was already dead. Spike's words of warning echoed in his mind and he found himself wondering when his brazen childe had become the sensible one in their relationship.

"Company girl has taken on new meaning for me yes, but it's only temporary." She grinned back at him and then waved to a man standing across the way. He and several others came to stand behind her and Angel felt himself tensing. "These will be your guides." Lilah said with a Vanna like gesture.

"You're such a cynic." Lilah said as she waved at another man pushing a cart through the lobby. "See, this is gonna work out great. I assure you, it is not our intention to kill you, if we'd wanted to, we could have just blown up the limo. Feel free to take whatever precautions you feel necessary to feel safe." The man joined the group and lifted a white sheet from his cart, revealing an assortment of weapons, knives and large guns. The men stood still and stared Lilah down, but Fred walked over to the man and grabbed a large automatic rifle from the cart. She then grabbed several clips from the second rack and checked to make sure they were full. Once satisfied she stuck the extra clips in her coat pocket and rejoined the group.

"Great to meet you I'm a big fan, the biggest." He reached a hand out and shook Lorne's hand rapidly. "Love your work. I've taken the liberty of compiling a list of the artists we represent, some of whom I think you might be interested in."

"I'm not interested in anything you represent or have to show me, I don't want to be part of your evil empire of..." The man flipped open the notebook he was holding and held it in front of Lorne. "Evil empire of everyone I've ever wanted to know. Haha." Lorne continued laughing as the man led him down another hall.

"This is why you're here. This office." She waved a hand around the room. It was a standard office, actually not even as large as hers had been, but nice nonetheless. Equipped with a private elevator that led to the parking garage and sewers. There was a mini-bar and very comfortable looking chair. A bit too much natural wood for Angel's tastes, but that was an easy fix.

"Wait, come on Angel, don't go. I haven't shown you the best part." Lilah pressed a button on the desk and the thick blinds flashed open on the rising sun. The rays filled the office bathing Angel in their warmth. He instinctively threw his hands over his face in a futile gesture, and nothing happened. The warmth stayed warm not burning. His skin didn't melt and he remained in his non-dust form.

"Necro-Tempered glass." She wrapped her knuckles against the pane and flashed Angel her biggest smile. "We've outfitted the entire building with them, so you, and your staff, can walk anywhere, any time of day, and you're perfectly safe."

"Here's my problem with that Skippy. The last time I saw you, you gave me a little hint. It really did seem like just what I needed at the time. Now, a few months later I'm thinking it was pretty damned convenient that if the powers really needed her so badly they'd tell you the key to getting her out. So I'm thinking that you telling me was not what the Powers wanted, and that either you were playing me, or something else was playing you. How'm I doin'?"

"I'm telling you the truth here buddy," The demon said punching at the ring spraying a shockwave of sparks on the ground around Angel, "nobody played me." He tried another punch, but it too only made a big flash without releasing him from the ring.

"That was not a demon Angel buddy. That was a being of supreme light. A goddess who has waited since demons took over this pathetic planet of yours for the perfect moment to bring peace back to the world. Can you even conceive of what you did? Your little hell spawn ended the only chance at perfect bliss that this place has had in a dozen millennia, and you watched him do it."

"A million points have to intersect to bring a goddess from another plane of existence." Angel nodded to the rest indicating to just follow along and hope they picked up the plot. "Getting sucked out of Pylea, Opening the wrong book, choosing a vampire over what you knew was your path, killing your sister, finding the right store room." Lilah jumped a little when she was included in the master plan. Skip then focused his attention back on Angel. "Your boyfriend getting captured by commandos. Falling in love with the Slayer. Accepting a birthday gift."

It had only taken a few moments for goodbye to turn into don't leave me. Even through his kisses Angel could feel Spike slipping away. He would go to Sunnydale and help Buffy, where he was unable. The one part of the translation that was clear was that the amulet must be worn by someone ensouled, but that it was not he. Angel knew that once again his day would end with him being unable to save Buffy. So, he spent his day where he knew he was needed. In Spike's arms.

Wrapped up with Spike he knew that he was not only needed but craved. Skip's words played through his mind like a broken record. He refused to believe that every decision he had made had been manipulated into place just so Connor could be brought forth. A century of torture, away from this, he thought as Spike pulled his shirt off and let it drop to the floor. A century of not touching this, he thought as he released his Childe's cock from too constricting jeans. A century of knowing only the taste of pig's blood, not this mouth full of hard kisses and fighting tongue. A century of wanting to feel that hardness against his skin. Wanting to hear his name moaned into the pillow like that. Needing to arch his back into his lover's pounding thrust. A century of knowing there was one place in the entire world he was lusted after, here in these arms.

Angel could not help but retrace every time in a hundred years he had spilled his own seed alone in a room with Spike's scent on his mind. The hours he had spent wandering New York knowing he was an hour behind his childe, stalking him, wanting him, afraid his reaction would echo Darla's, and that he would see loathing in his lover's face, where there once had been no emotion outside of blind lust. Angel bent his head into Spike's neck and tasted the salt that was rising over his skin. He lathed his nipples with smooth circles and pulled each one until it stood at attention. This was how it was meant to be, and would have been for the past hundred years without this goddess with no name's intervention.

It would have been Angelus that now pressed into the man below him. It would have been a soulless demon that gripped these chiseled hips and pulled them against his own. Angelus who clawed at alabaster skin and growled out a name he had only dreamt of for a hundred years. Instead it was he, Angel. It was Angel who hugged the pillows below him and pressed back to take this vampire's cock deeper within himself. It was he who now shoved his face into the goose down trying to muffle screams of ecstasy as his childe slammed inside of him and frightened the humans only three floors below. Angelus would have never known this pleasure, and Angel found himself unable to regret that the last hundred years had brought him here. As he sprayed the sheets below him and felt himself be filled when his lover did the same Angel found it impossible to not whisper a word of thanks to the now dead power that had put him here.

Angel rolled onto his back and was attacked by his lover's mouth and knew that the same thoughts had filled his mind. They now had no need for any words beyond thank you. Angel fell asleep in his childe's arms and for the first time in a century he knew exactly why he was brought here. He slept a peaceful sleep, so peaceful he did not feel Spike climb from their bed just before dusk and slip out the chamber doors.

The pull of the Hellmouth beckoned Spike north. He drove up the California coastline barely taking in the night sky as he hugged turns and passed tourists on scenic drives. He had driven for hours, running on adrenalin, savoring the taste of Angel's kisses that haunted his mouth. The call of the First was strong and he could sense how that strength had grown since he had left Sunnydale. Every moment he expected to find an apparition of Buffy or Drusilla sitting next to him, expected the voices to start to creep into his ears once more, but they did not come.

The closer he got to Sunnydale the more alone he felt. Not only had he left Angel behind, but from the look of the road he had left the world behind. The only headlights that dotted the late night highway were heading South, away from the evil growing over the Hellmouth. He knew that while the average Sunnydale citizen may not have a name for the feelings the Hellmouth stirred in them, they felt them just the same. The town was nearly abandoned by the time he reached Rivelo drive. The Summer's home looked like the last vestige of humanity within ten miles. The house bustled with activity as the many potential slayers gathered weapons and exercised to keep their minds from drifting to thoughts of pure evil and vampires that did not fear the stake.

Spike opened the back door into the kitchen without knocking and looked for Buffy. He ignored greetings from girls whose names he could not remember and Buffy's friends whom he wished he could forget. Within a few seconds he knew that Buffy had not come home that night. Willow had made Buffy's exit from their inner circle of friends sound mutual, but Spike knew she would never have left them willingly.

"You know I expected this from these traitors, but not you." The overwhelming force of the Hellmouth made his anger rise so quickly it scared even Spike. "You sad lot, she has saved you again and again. She died for you, and this is how you treat her? The Hellmouth is going to swallow you whole, and you know who's going to save you? No one." Spike cast seething looks at those Buffy had called friends. He now saw them for what they were, scared children, too afraid to use the powers they held.

"Is that right?" He asked. "Okay." He waved his hands in the air for a moment, debating supplication, and then he punched her. It hadn't really been his goal to start a fight with a slayer, but the urge seemed quite natural. Faith rubbed her cheek for a moment where he had connected and then pushed at his chest knocking him into the breakfast bar behind him.

"You're sure acting pretty sweet on her, Spike. Seems kinda odd seein' as how a few days ago you were so wrapped around Angel I thought it would take a pry bar to get you apart." She said with a punch at the vampire. Spike returned her blow and narrowly escaped a kick to the temple. "I think it's kinda cute how she makes all the vamps go weak in the knees." She continued through a volley of punches. "I mean B must have blood-flavored nipples or something." Spike got in a couple more hits to Faith's torso before a roundhouse kick sent him flying over the dining table and into the buffet cabinet on the far wall. He crumpled to the floor and was about to throw himself back into the fight when Giles stepped between them and put a hand on Faith's shoulder.

"Yeah, Rupert, I think you're right. You go ahead and pretend you're the big man and Buffy and I'll go stop the apocalypse." He marched out the front door and stopped just short of the sidewalk. Spike closed his eyes and sniffed at the air hoping to catch some remnant of her scent. Knowing Buffy would have set out on foot was little comfort to him, but after a moment he picked up the slightest trace of her and headed down the street. A few blocks more and her scent became stronger. Most of the houses in the area were completely dark, most had not even bothered to shut their doors as they fled. At last he spotted a house with one light lit in an upstairs window. Buffy's scent filled the air and he went to the door expecting to be shut out. The mystical barrier that normally would have kept him at bay was not there. Pleasantly surprised he entered the house and followed the slayer's aroma up the stairs.

"There you are." She lay on a bed, huddled in a blanket. She looked into his eyes and then looked away, clearly not wanting to say what had sent her into a stranger's home. "I know." He took a step towards the bed and knelt beside her. "I mean, I heard. Willow told me what happened, mostly."

"Yeah, that was a load of fun." He saw the hurt look in the Slayer's eyes. "Trust me, you didn't miss much. The Powers just have a funny sense of humor is all. We survived, Angelus free, whatever hold the First had on me seems to be gone. Now we just need to put our brains together, well, not literally, but we just need to come up with a plan."

"It stops when we walk away from the Hellmouth saying we kicked its ass." Spike inched his face closer to hers and looked into her eyes trying to draw her out. "Buffy, they need you and its time you start acting like a leader and lead them. The First is getting ready, they played some big cards to keep Angel and me out of the way, but we didn't give up and now we're back in the game, here, ready to help."

"Are you really that daft? Do you really think I would go through all this trouble just for that? Maybe that's how it started, I wanted to take you from Angel, kill you, fuck you, whatever, but you know that I changed. You know that was a different man, you watched it happen."

Spike stopped his pacing and tried to collect his thoughts into something cohesive. "You're right. With you and me there can never be just us. Angel is always here; my past is always here. When I say I love you it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you." He knelt in front of her once again and took a calming breath. "I don't say I love you because I'm looking for a shag, I don't need that from you. I say it because you are an incredible woman. You use your strength to make those around you better than they were when you found them. That's what draws people to you, not the power. You're the one, Buffy, and it has nothing to do with being the Slayer. It's just who you are."

"And I don't want to be this good looking and athletic, we all have crosses to bear." He wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled. "I'm going to let you get some rest, still a few hours till daylight. I'll check in on you in the morning."

"Just stay and hold me please, I don't want to be alone." Spike slowly placed his hand over hers and released her grip from his arm and stood up. He took his coat off and placed it on the chair beside the bed before kicking his shoes off. Buffy moved to the middle of the bed making room for Spike to lay beside her. He sat on the edge of the bed wondering how he had gotten here. Less than six hours ago he shared Angel's bed, and now the slayer was welcoming him with open arms.

"Just holding, I can do that." He rested his head on the pillow and Buffy was instantly on him. She rested her head on his shoulder pulling his arm around her tightly. She placed her own hand over his and squeezed him so tight he was tempted to remind her she had super strength.

When he gave no reply Buffy rested her head against his chest again and tried to fall asleep. Spike held her tightly and slowly his resolve began to slip away. He slid down the bed until he was eye to eye with her and reached out to kiss her as if in a dream, lips meeting again and their embrace tightened once more. He paused giving her a chance to change her mind, but she did not pull back. Her mouth held none of the feral heat that he remembered, the word soft kept running through his mind. The slayer lay with him, and it was soft. The two words sounded so foreign to his mind, but it was just that.

He stopped his mouth from completing his task and rose to meet her gaze. "I can't." He whispered. A look of hurt flashed over her face and she made a movement to pull away from him, but he did not let her go. "It's not really what you want, not from me. I won't be having you regretting me when we're supposed to be saving the world. Just let me hold you, and we'll take it from there in the morning." He kissed her once more, placing a final kiss gently on her forehead. They lay back against the pillows and fell asleep in each other's arms. He knew it would be enough for him, and hoped it would be for her as well.

In the morning Spike awoke to an empty bed, a hastily written note was left on the pillow beside him. He read it quickly, and then once more taking time to absorb the details of her plan to find Caleb, a plan he was not a part of. He folded the note and tucked it inside his jacket pocket. Spike then lay back in the bed and waited for the sun to set

Wesley flushed a little before sitting on the edge of the bed to show Angel the book he was holding. "I think I've discovered the origin of the amulet that Lilah gave you. It looks to be an instrument capable of purifying light, the translation is a bit tricky to say the very least, but I think you should get it to Sunnydale as fast as possible."

The sewers had been full of demons. More demons than Spike could remember ever having seen. Even during Adam's mini-reign of terror there hadn't been this many. All of them were being pulled by the hellmouth, maneuvered by the First into position. He tried to fight the urges himself, but the closer he got to the vineyard the stronger the feelings became. The urge to kill, hunt, hurt. He reminded himself the First no longer had a hold on him, nothing controlled him now except for freewill and soul. That was enough.

He had followed the sewers as far as he could before slipping into the dense forested areas that surrounded the vineyard's out buildings. Under cover of Cyprus and coming dusk he had enough shade to peek through the heavily vine-covered windows of the main building. He saw a few of the First's harbingers, but little activity inside. They guarded a staircase that led to the basement, the basement where Buffy and Faith had battled Caleb once before. The basement, where Xander had lost an eye and several potential slayers their lives.

Buffy's smell was in the air, but it was faded. He knew she had been here within the last few hours, but he tried not to worry. It was the scent of the Slayer, but not of her blood, meaning she couldn't have fared too badly. Spike watched for several more minutes as the sun set into the California hills and he felt it safe enough to head back into town and tell Buffy the bringers were in a holding pattern.

Spike turned around and saw Buffy. No, this was not the Slayer. The body was hers, the hair the same, even the sweet scent, but the eyes held something Buffy did not possess. There was a lingering evil in them that Spike recognized. Whatever form the First showed him it could not help but make that look, too many wheels turning at once to stay focused for very long.

"Right, big day. So many to bury, so many to burn." The First spoke in a sarcastic voice that had always had a tinge of truth to it. Spike filed away the words for later examination and turned on his heel. The First called after him, taunting him to save them, but he closed his mind to it and headed for the Summer's house.

They had searched the hotel quickly and when that had proved fruitless they had split up. Fred and Gunn had gone to the abandoned apartment Connor and Cordelia had shared, Lorne had gone to a few mystics he knew that might be able to hone in on Connor's supernatural aura, and Wesley and Angel had gone to Wolfram and Hart. It had seemed a logical place to start.

"Maybe I can help you?" A nice looking young woman in a summery dress had joined them at the desk. She pushed a long lock of blonde hair behind her ear and then extended her hand to Angel. When he did not respond she moved her hand to Wesley. "I'm Eve."

"Of course." She said with a smile. There was genuineness in her that was lacking in the other Wolfram and Hart employees Wesley had met, she didn't even look like a lawyer. "Lilah was brought back as a sort of liaison because you were already familiar with her. I'll be the one working with you now that she is gone."

"Well you wouldn't believe how expensive it is to keep someone as bright as Lilah animated on this plane. I mean just wait until you get the light bill." She gave a small laugh and then turned her attention to Angel. "I expect you are here to find your son."

"What the bloody hell happened?" Spike asked as he entered Buffy's house. There were girls everywhere, bleeding and screaming in a dozen different octaves of pain. Anya and Andrew ran frantically from room to room placing band-aids on open wounds and pouring water into mouths that cried out.

"Connor? Son?" Angel said softly as he looked around the store. The people scattered throughout the store were all tethered to a crude bomb; each one tried to comfort those sitting next to them. "Where the hell did you learn how to do this?" Angel asked, eyes wide in terror.

"You might want to watch your step. You never know who you'll set off next. Maybe me." Connor said pulling back his shirt to show that he too was wired to the explosives. "Maybe her." He said moving to his left. Behind him lay Cordelia, still comatose, wired to a group of propane bottles.

"And that chance was taken away from me. You let me go once, and now you're going to do it again." He reached for the switch that was taped to his chest, but Angel was on him in a second, pulling the wires from his grasp. Angel pounded at Connor's chest, trying to knock the wind out of him long enough to free the other people. After a moment of parrying his punches Angel grabbed a bowling ball from a nearby table and hit his son upside the head with it. Finally Connor was knocked to the ground and Angel ran to the hostages and helped them remove the explosives from their chests. Wesley called to the crowd and ushered them out the back door. Once they were all safe he came and stood by Angel's side.

As soon as they approached, Connor lunged at Angel again, forcing him backward into a display case. Glass rained around them as they crashed to the ground. Angel reached into the display's remains and grabbed a hunting knife. He pushed Connor off of his legs and when the boy flung himself at the vampire again he sent him flying with a hard kick. Angel threw the knife at Connor, landing the blade deep in his son's thigh. Connor fell to the ground and pulled the knife out. He then tossed the blood-soaked weapon back at Angel's feet, where it ineffectually landed.

Faster than Angel could react Connor flipped himself to the other side of Cordelia's supine body and tried to trigger the bomb that sat on her chest. Angel reached to his feet and picked the knife up before flying through the air and tackling the boy.

He had made Wesley drive. The thought of trying to concentrate was beyond him now. Angel's every thought was of the body that now lay in the Wolfram and Hart vaults. A child born of two vampires, it was a rare thing, a valuable thing. Angel knew his son's worth more than any other, he also knew it was the price he had to pay. And he would pay it, but not yet. Now it was time to do his job and save the day, even if it meant giving the glory to others, he was here to serve his purpose.

They had pulled onto Rivelo Drive just after ten o'clock, although the sky still shone pale as the last rays of the summer sun drifted into the Western Hemisphere. Angel was stiff from crouching under a blanket most of the way up the coast and made his way out of the car slowly.

Giles greeted them at the door and with very little in the way of greeting let them in. Buffy and Spike were nowhere to be seen, although Dawn's squealing and hugs filled any gaps in conversation that might have taken place. After calming her a bit and quick hugs to Willow and Faith they got down to the reason for their trip.

"I guess that depends on what you have to offer. Buffy is on a reconnaissance mission of sorts, trying to find more on a weapon she recently acquired." Giles stopped to take a breath. "Oh god, now I'm doing it." He and Wesley shared a smile.

"No, you're right, but looking around here I see quite a few people that aren't helpless, and none of you are without damage." He took his keys from Wesley's hand and opened the door. "I'm going to find her. Giles, catch Wesley up, and try to call Spike. Make sure he's all right alone."

The Vineyard had been as quiet as could be expected, a few bringers, but no real concentration beyond the norm. Spike hadn't lingered. He'd spent enough time in Sunnydale to know there weren't a lot of tombs on unconsecrated land lying around. Of course, this town was so demon-weary there weren't a lot of ice cream shops on unconsecrated ground.

He had made his way into the temple quietly enough. He found a long tunnel that led deep into the hills that housed it and followed it until there was no longer torchlight showing the way. The markings on the walls were in a language that resembled hieroglyphics. Spike wasn't exactly an expert, but his years with Angelus had been filled with plenty of study, and languages had been at the top of his list. "If you can't read the words, or at least speak them, how will you know an enemy when you meet him?" Angelus' voice echoed in his ears even a century later. "How will you know how to defeat them?"

Spike brushed away a layer of dust and stared at the next symbol for several minutes trying to make his brain remember the texts he had read so long ago. "hrw nfr-ni `im" He continued. "The day on which it went well for me." He read quickly, passing over glyphs he did not recognize until one grouping stopped his fingers cold.

"Whm `nh ra." He read. The symbols for resurrection of the sun. All of a sudden he found himself wishing he didn't know how to read anything other than the English he knew in childhood. He stopped his reading and leaned against the wall trying to put the pieces together. "So many to bury, so many to burn." He said aloud.

Spike turned away from her and ran back down the long corridor. As he reached the inner sanctum of the temple he slowed his pace, listening intently as sounds of fighting wafted to his ears. He stood behind a large stone partition and watched as Buffy was thrown across the room and crashed into a pillar. He took a step forward to try and see who it was attacking her, and saw a man dressed in black, and then he saw the collar. Caleb. He needed little introduction and Spike moved from behind the wall to help Buffy. His foot hadn't even hit the ground when he saw Angel come from the shadows and punch Caleb in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

"Something you need to finish yourself. I get it." Angel picked Buffy's axe from the ground and placed it in her hand. He then leaned against the wall and watched as Caleb stood up and charged at Buffy. He took a hard kick to the temple and fell to the ground at Angel's feet. "You are so going to lose." Angel said with a smirk. The preacher jumped to his feet again and turned back to Buffy just in time for her to bring the axe up between his legs and literally split him in two.

"Don't I even warrant a hello?" Angel asked as he walked towards the Slayer. Before another word passed between them Buffy threw her arms around Angel's neck and pulled him into a kiss. Spike expected Angel to pull back, but instead he deepened the kiss.

The research party was in full swing by the time Buffy and Angel reached the house. Wesley and Giles were still swapping watcherisms and Willow now had the axe in her hands trying to pull its tale out mystically. Buffy had gone upstairs to check on Faith and the wounded potentials, and Angel crept his way down the basement stairs to find Spike. He was a few steps from the ground when a glass shattered just above his head.

"Amazing thing that." Spike said as he ripped Angel's shirt open and tore it from his back. He shoved Angel against the wall and raked his fingernails down the smooth flesh. "So do you. Two nights ago Angel. Two nights ago. Remember, you me, into the night?"

"Do you honestly think I came back here for that? I came to help her, not to fuck her." He slammed his chest against Angel's back and pressed him into the cold concrete wall. "Not that I couldn't have." He hissed into Angel's ear. "She begged me to."

Angel pushed off the wall and backed into Spike so hard he sent the vampire sprawling to the floor. "You think that makes you special?" He asked turning on him. Angel joined him on the hard rug and pulled his childe's hands out from under him as Spike tried to get up. "She's got plenty of help here. She doesn't need us."

Neither man wanted to give an inch to the other and there were no more words between them. Within seconds the rest of their clothing had melted away and Angel flipped Spike over, crushing his hips into the hard rug with his own. He then sliced in to his wrist with fangs that would not disappear and let a river of blood coat Spike's waiting arse and his own cock. With a hard thrust he entered Spike and coughed out a thousand words of ownership. He laid claim to this vampire, and he did it in the Slayer's home where the scent would linger as long as the house stood.

Angel ground into his lover harshly, biting into back and shoulder, turning his head to take hard lips into his hungry mouth. Spike bucked back as much as he could with his hands still in Angel's punishing grasp. He pressed his own stiffness into the rug seeking friction against its cold surface. When he could feel Angel's orgasm rising Spike squirmed all the more trying to reach his own completion. Angel hurried his thrusts and pounded into Spike hard enough to move him across the rug. He now spoke in angry words, words of possession and words of want. He knew he was close and removed himself from the coolness of Spike's body and flipped his lover over once more. He pivoted his body on top of Spike and thrust his still swollen cock into the vampire's mouth. He then took Spike's entire length into his mouth and began to suck and lick at it vigorously as he felt the burning in his sack grow stronger. Spike moaned beneath him and tried to keep pace with him as Angel practically fucked his face. Both vampires growled as the sensations became overwhelming. In a flash of claws and grunts they filled each other's mouths and swallowed streams of built frustration and jealousy.

They lay entwined in legs and arms for several moments before rotating to meet each other's mouths. Their kiss was hard and powerful, holding none of the tenderness their last encounter had featured. This was about power, and claiming, and knowing that something bigger was to come. This was goodbye, as much as hello, and both knew it, though neither would give it voice. As the dawn crept closer they fell asleep, still entangled in each other on the ground, neither having strength or desire to move.

"But here's the thing, Spike, we can. I don't think I ever realized that before. We have the power here, and the First knows it." She took a deep breath and came close to a smile as the smell of the two men she loved more than anything wafted around her. "We have the power."

The hotel was a bustle of activity. Lorne and Fred were at the lobby counter going through contact books trying to build a force, Angel and Gunn were gathering weapons, and Wesley was on the phone with Eve trying to find out what Wolfram and Hart knew about the impending battle.

"Eve, please, I know you're leaving something out... Just make it happen, any resources at your disposal... Fine, our disposal, we'll need them just in case... Yes, we're aware that Connor's body is still there...Yes Cordelia is doing fine if not better...This can all wait until after, I have every faith that you'll have it all in order when we arrive...Right, I'll keep you posted." He hung up the phone and joined Angel and Gunn near their makeshift arsenal.

"You mean anything besides calling Wolfram and Hart for help, not really. Although Eve is much more pleasant to deal with than some of the employees we've encountered in the past." Wesley's smile was brief, but did not go unnoticed by Angel or Gunn.

"Just a second boss." Lorne returned his attention to the phone. "Okay, so you have how many? And sunlight isn't a problem? Oh, sweetcakes you are the cherry on my banana boat." He finished the call and joined the men by the weapons. "That was friend of mine from the valley, peach of a guy, aura the color of mustard, but sweet."

"I think that Buffy and Spike will die before they let that happen." Angel pretended to check the strings on a crossbow and then tossed it into the pile of weapons lying on the floor. He felt their eyes on him and looked up. "I don't know you guys. I'm kind of playing it by ear here. All I know is that come morning if there are Turok'Han in LA I'll have more than one body to bury."

The others in the room squirmed uncomfortably at the picture Willow had painted in their minds. "Right, ignoring that image for a moment," Giles began, "I'll call the coven and enlist their help. We should be ready to go in a couple of hours. The more daylight we have the better."

The ride to the high school had been short, but tense. Spike crouched in the back seat of Xander's car wrapped in a heavy blanket that blocked out the early morning sun and waited for their caravan to reach their target. Once at the school he had rushed out of the fatal rays that he knew would trap him inside once the battle had begun. He placed the amulet over his neck as soon as they entered the main hallway, but it had no immediate effects. He waited for Buffy to say her goodbyes to those staying on the main floor, where they could catch any of the Turok'Han that made it out of the basement, and then headed for the seal.

"Right, let's go show this thing who has the real power." He followed her and the others down the stairs into the basement and to the room that held the seal of Danthazar. Once there, Faith handed Buffy a knife and the rest of the girls in the room gathered around the seal.

"You first, B." Buffy took the knife and sliced deeply into the flesh of her hand. Then she passed the knife to Faith, who did the same. The Slayers then held their hands out over the seal, letting their blood drip onto the goat's head that decorated it. Each of the potential slayers followed suit and soon the edges of the seal began to shine with a near-blinding light.

Buffy shot him a disgusted look, but followed it with a smirk. The seal's glow was now encircling the room and it began to sink into the ground below. As the metal it was made of folded up and formed a sharp point the edges slipped further down revealing stairs carved of stone.

"Don't mean to burst anyone's bubble here, Buffy, but my fabulous new accessory isn't exactly doing anything yet." Spike picked the amulet up from his chest and stared at it willing the gem to bestow him with strength. "That and I look like Elizabeth Taylor."

Spike looked into the enormous cave that made up the Hellmouth and took a step back. Every square foot of surface was covered with Turok'Han, the most primitive vampire. A pure demon, nothing like the human hybrid that he himself was. This was a being of undiluted evil, and they were facing thousands of them.

"I'm not worried." Buffy said again. She stepped to the edge of the precipice they stood on and looked into the sea of vampires. "I'm not worried." She said a bit more assertively. "As long as Willow can work her spell before they see us we'll be fine."

Spike wanted to believe her, but even as she spoke he could sense that their presence had not gone unnoticed. Within seconds a swarm of vampires lifted their heads to see the intruders and with one body they rushed from the ground far below and up the walls to attack.

Willow sat on the floor of Principal Wood's office, directly over the seal. She had a variety of herbs and sands around her, and in her hands she held the axe that Buffy had found. As she held it she felt the power it gave off radiate through her body. She tried to channel the energy into herself while she chanted. The strength of the weapon grew to an overwhelming point and as she tightened her grip her eyes flashed white with the building power.

Inside the Hellmouth the vampires had reached the group and each of them were fighting for their lives. Buffy and most of the potentials held swords and stakes while Faith and Spike fought with bare hands trying to throw the demons over the cliff side to stave them off. Most of the potentials teamed up and seemed to be doing okay, but not all. A few of them were still wounded from the explosion the day before, while some had just not been with Buffy long enough to have enough training to keep them safe. They fought as long as they could, but several ended up being little more than canon fodder.

"Just hang on." Buffy yelled to the rest, trying to keep them focused while she fought. "Just hang on. Willow can do it." She thrust her stake into the chest of a Turok'Han and as soon as it turned to dust she moved on to the next. "Come on Willow." She said to herself.

Willow continued to chant and as she did the air around her began to swirl with power. "Share the power." She said in a hushed tongue. As she spoke the essence of the scythe she held in her hands shot out of the office and passed through all of the potentials, but it did not stop there. The wave of power swept over and around the earth entering every girl on earth that might one day possess the power of the Slayer. Kennedy nearly passed out as that power built in her belly like a fire. She could feel every muscle in her body tighten with a force stronger than any she had ever known.

"And you're a Slayer." Willow said as she began to come down from the magical high that had allowed her to work a spell that changed every rule of Slayerdom. No longer would there be one girl in all the world who had to shoulder the weight of the world. From that moment on every girl in the world that could be a Slayer was a Slayer. "Go, get this to Buffy." She said, handing the axe to Kennedy.

Spike continued to fight off the vampires as best he could, and then he saw Kennedy racing down the stairs with the axe. She passed it through the air to Buffy and before his eyes the balance of power in the Hellmouth changed. Where moments before there had been girls dropping to the ground and struggling to get up, there were now nearly thirty Slayers battering a tide of demons back into the Hellmouth they came from. All around him their power was apparent; each now possessed the full strength of a Slayer, while he...

"Ouch." He yelled. The amulet had zapped him. He reached out to touch it and the orb burned his fingers. He released the chain and deflected the attack of one of the attacking Turok'Han. As he thrust the demon to the ground he felt another charge race through his body. "Buffy! I think somebody just turned this thing on!" He called out to her.

Buffy did not hear him right away, as she was battling several of the demons at once, but then she turned towards his voice and looked over to him. As she did another vampire came up behind her and thrust a narrow sword into her side. Spike watched in horror as she dropped to the ground, but he could do nothing to help. The amulet was beginning to burn into his chest and he found himself slammed against a wall near the stairwell as several Turok'Han raced past him and up the steps. He tried to reach out to them but even the smallest of movements seemed to tear a hole in his breast.

"We'll see." The apparition walked over to Buffy smiling at the carnage around the cave. Spike couldn't make out the words it taunted her with, but it wasn't long before Buffy lifted her head from the ground. He felt a wave of relief course through his body and his joy at seeing that she was alive almost alleviated the punishing fire that was building from the Amulet. He watched as Buffy lifted her body up to crouching and then stood up, still clutching her side. As Buffy rose a look of abject terror spread over the First's face. One of the new slayers passed the Axe through the air, landing it in Buffy's waiting hand. She quickly decapitated three Turok'Han in one movement before she turned her back on the First and moved onto another group of vampires.

"Buffy!" Spike called out again as a huge blast of light shot out from the amulet. "Oh, bollocks." The light blew a hole through the roof of the cave and bore through the entire school. The sun's rays jetted down the hole and seemed to concentrate on the amulet for a moment before the prism diffracted the light in lethal rays throughout the cave. As the force of the rays blasted stalactites from the roof and sent the Turok'Han bursting into flames the entire Hellmouth began to shake in protest.

Buffy ushered the other girls up the stairs as they fought the few Turok'Han that had not been killed instantly. Once all of them were safely out of harm's way Buffy stood beside Spike. "Come on." She said, but Spike could not move, the burning was paralyzing and even though he wanted to flee with the rest of them he knew his job wasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" She tried to pull at him, to drag him towards the exit if he would not walk, but the hand she held burst into flames, and while they did not make it unbearable to hold his hand, she knew she would have to let go soon.

Both of them stared into the Hellmouth where the remaining Turok'Han were fleeing and catching on fire as the amulet continued to shoot its powerful rays of light. "They're not all dead yet, Buffy. They'll be back. You've got to go now."

A large crash of rocks began to fall around them and Buffy started up the stairs. "Go!" Spike said firmly when she turned around to look at him. The ground continued to shake and Spike leaned his head back against the wall. "I wanna see how it ends."

A few Turok'Han tried to follow her, but as soon as they reached the ledge the amulet began to quiver and shot out more beams. The burning was now so hot that Spike could smell his chest being singed. He looked at his hands and the flesh that was beginning to turn to ash and he could not fight back a laugh. William the Bloody was about to die saving the world from the evil that made him. He continued to laugh as his neck caught fire and the flames licked at his cheeks. He growled at the pain and just when he thought he was finished burning, the amulet began to suck the light it had expelled back in. He felt the flames retract from his flesh, but instead of turning to ash and dust as he expected there was nothing. All he felt was the darkness. He didn't think he was in the Hellmouth anymore, he saw no light, no hole in the roof. He saw and felt only black. He held neither form nor thoughts save one: I will always come back to you.

The air was bitter, so cold it reminded him of the first night he had stepped off the boat at Ellis Island. It was like that night in more ways than one, a new world was before him. The anticipation of what morning would bring was so heavy Angel thought for sure his knees would buckle. It had been two days since Buffy had called. Two days since a voice choking back tears had told her Spike was responsible for the entire town of Sunnydale, and all of the evil that resided there, being sucked into an imploding Hellmouth.

There was an image of red fire his mind. Skies that shone black and clouds that bled acid. A beast was chasing him and the faster he ran the closer the animal seemed to be. He felt the heat of its breath on the backs of his legs, so he ran faster, further into the darkness. He ran until he hit a wall, he knew the beast was behind him. He checked his body for weapons, but he found none. He reached a hand into the leather pouch that hung from his waist and when he brought his hand back out it was covered in blood.

He dropped his hand to his side and turned to face the beast. It stood before him and roared at a volume he thought would shatter his eardrums, and so he closed his eyes. He shut out visions of monstrous beasts and blood red sky. He held his eyes fast as rancorous breath washed over him and fire licked at his throat. In his mind he saw only Angel now.

He thought the sky might be blue, but in the refracted light of rainbow colors he couldn't make it out for sure. He thought he could see faces peering at him, but he couldn't hold onto them long enough to discern one from another. He tuned into a multitude of voices, were they chanting or talking? He felt like he was in some sort of ritual that he couldn't understand. Maybe it was a funeral. He was dead right? Wasn't that the custom, you spoke over the dead?

He tried to turn around in his prison to get a better view, but no matter what angle he looked through there wasn't room to see. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the voices, hoping to make out just one, but the babble seemed even more intense. More voices had joined them. He closed his eyes and thought of Angel.

"They're fine, Angel." She curled a blonde lock behind her ear and welcomed them to a long board table. There were several employees that Angel didn't recognize, and a couple he had met the day before when they were packing up the hotel. Wolfram and Hart's sweepers had been nothing if not efficient. The sanctorum spell had been lifted, all traces of life removed, and once again it was a ghost hotel.

"Well that's just great. I guess I'll call the meeting to order then." Angel said as he reached into his pocket for a long scroll. "I assume we're all familiar with the scrolls of Aberjian? Good. The scrolls have a lot of interesting things to say about the vampire with a soul. That mythic creature that will play such a huge part in the final apocalypse. Now you see Wolfram and Hart have been pulling the strings for so long they forgot to look at the marionette to make sure it was the right one." He paused for a moment letting the sound of squeaking chairs calm.

"Well now, as we all know I've been playing the part of the marionette for so long I had forgotten to tighten my own strings and see who was pulling them. Funny thing is, I thought it was you, but now I know that the First was pulling you as well. It would be arrogant of me to think that all the shit I've been through in the last few years was really just about me, Wolfram and Hart was maneuvered into place just as much as I was. But here's where you messed up. Lilah gave me the mystical amulet thingy knowing that possession is nine-tenths of the law. She knew that I would go to Sunnydale, use the amulet to stop the big evil from rising, and then be sucked into the crystal. She figured Wolfram and Hart would dig through the rubble, or just magic it out of the Hellmouth and throw me in a manila envelope for a few hundred years until I was needed again.

"Now, here's the crux, she didn't count on Spike being the one to wear the amulet. She forgot to check the mound to see if a curve ball was coming. So the way I see it Wolfram and Hart has two problems. Thanks to the Slayer's digging I now have the amulet," Angel held the battered crystal up for them to see. "and I also am in control of the LA office, and since I'm not willing to give up either without a damn good offer I think it's time to start negotiations." He sat down at the head of the table and leaned back in his chair, sharing a brief smile with Wesley.

"Let's see, I have one childe trapped in here." He said waving the amulet around his finger. "And one up in the white room waiting for me. The powers owe me the life of one, you owe me the other." He sat up straight in his chair and looked around the room for someone to make an offer.

"I'm not asking you to reverse it, just give it truth. You see prophecy is a funny thing. `The father will kill the son' looks so black and white on paper, but you're fucking lawyers. You know as well as I do that prophecy is open to interpretation. So what I propose is this, if no one has a suggestion of their own?" He was met with a dozen blank faces, and so he continued. "You are going to give my son the life he deserves. You are going to let him finish out the life he should have had. You're going to pull a Dawn Summers and stick him into a family that will love him, a family that has nothing to do with magic, or demons, or anything mystical. A family where he will never know he was the child of two vampires."

There was a taste of sulfur in the air. It burned his nostrils and he could not block it out. He looked to Angel for a hand, but he did not seem to notice that the air was rancid. He didn't need to breathe, it didn't bother him. His father took his hand and kissed it to his mouth. He then placed a large hand over his mouth and for a moment the burning went away, but the hand did not move. He tried to gasp for air but the hand continued to smother him. After a moment he felt his mind swirl and get dizzy. He opened his eyes to look at Angel and thought he could make out words coming from his lips. "I love you, Connor."

"I understand Wesley, I do, but I have to have him here. Don't you get that? When Darla died in the fire the Powers gave up the chance to pay me for passing the trial. When they couldn't make good on their end they put one on the board marked IOU. Now I'm cashing in. Spike is not going to spend eternity here in this amulet. He is going to spend it with me."

The noise had been blissfully absent for what he suspected were hours, although he couldn't be sure. The colors that made up his prison swirled violently around his body and he felt the spinning would never stop. There was a rush of sensation pulling him up. Where was up? He couldn't tell and he thought it might make him insane. He wanted to touch the ground, he wanted to touch flesh. He was so hungry. He needed. He wanted. He craved. His body ached with the pain of his hunger.

And then the voices returned. The din grew louder and pounded at his brain. He felt his body being pulled. His chest burned as the words grew louder. A sudden panic filled his body. They were trying to take his soul. The voices that clawed at the walls of his prison, they had come to take his soul. He tried to fight the walls back. He banged fists and fangs against them, he struggled against the bonds that held him, but the voices only grew stronger, and then the pulling ebbed and he heard one voice separate itself from the void with perfect clarity.

Spike stopped his struggling, he shut his eyes tight and willed his muscles to relax. The very second he was still the pulling resumed, this time much stronger. He surrendered to the pain and when he opened his eyes he found himself standing in a room full of eyes watching him. The faces were blurs, but he felt their eyes penetrating into him. They examined every inch of his body with piercing vision and once his own eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room he saw why. He was standing in a pile of shattered glass, every inch of his naked flesh scarred with jagged cuts and skin still showing where the flames had licked at him mere days before.

He looked from face to face trying to find one he recognized, and when none came to his rescue he began to search for something to cover his body with. When that too proved futile he tried to speak, but no words would come out. He tried again, but the words were not there. He looked at the crowd with searching eyes barely registering their slow movements to either side of him. They continued to stare in wonder waiting for his senses to return, waiting for him to speak. But it was not voice that came back, it was scent. He sniffed at the air and began to cry.

The scent of his blood filled the air, but there was also a hint of myrtle and the faintest waft of saxifrage tingled in his nose. His soft cries turned to deep sobs as he finally registered why the crowd had parted to the sides of the room. Spike let out a soft moan of `Oh' as he saw Angel walking towards him. He carried a black silken robe in his hands and reached out to place it over his childe's shoulders. `Oh' Spike repeated placing soft fingertips on Angel's chest to make sure he was real. When he felt the contact and knew that it was no longer a dream his crying became uncontrollable.

The words forced Spike to lift his eyes and choke back his sobs. "Angel." He said with a graveled voice. Hearing his sire's name from his lips sent Spike into another sob, but his cries were cut off by tender lips smothering his own. The kiss lasted several moments, forcing those in the room to look away and pretend to be occupied sweeping glass from the sterile marble floor or wipe up spots of blood that left stains on every surface. When Spike had calmed to some degree he pulled out of the kiss slowly and smiled broadly at his lover.