Ensouled Part Four - resurfacing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe Angel had put up a big fight, staved for hours, boring poor Connor to tears, and only been on the boat for a minute. Or maybe not. Spike decided to give it a few more minutes walk around then head back for shore.

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

The fish began to back away at his arrival, widening their circle of attack, a few brave ones stayed to nip at him as he got close enough to touch the box. He let his body float over the top of the box once he had a good grip on the side.

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

"Hey Gunn. Left who?" Connor had cleaned himself up a bit over the summer, got a haircut, but he still freaked Gunn out. He was as strong as his mother and nearly as fast as Angel, not really the guy you want to party with, unless he's on your side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then tell me, there's no rush, I'm in no shape to go down stairs and I don't want Fred and Cordelia to see me looking like I went four hundred rounds with a red snapper, which by the way I think I did." Angel tried to laugh at his own joke, but it hurt too much.

"She wasn't with you, I mean of course she wasn't. Get dressed, we have to go downstairs." Spike was out from the covers as quickly as they had gotten into them, with Angel rising fast behind him. "Angel, Cordelia went missing that night too. No one has seen her."


	The Adventures of Captain Peroxide and Deadboy The Angel/Spike Zone of the BtVS Writer's Guild Home Updates Stories Resources Extras News Music Forum Contact Guestbook Links Full Version Fiction by: Title Author Pairing Rating Ensouled Part IV - Resurfacing Author: Tania Summary: Spike comes to LA looking for Angel, together they try and figure out what it means to be Ensouled. Rating: Mainly R/NC-17 Pairings: Angel/Spike, Angelus/William, Lilah/Wesley, Buffy/Spike implied, Angel(us)/Darla Implied Timeline: Runs the gamut Disclaimer: Joss created my darling boys, I just let them run around in my head until they must come out. Distribution: Please ask, although why you would want to house a 41,674 word long story is beyond me. Feedback: Please, by all means, Email Tania Floating, why did she feel like she was floating? No, it wasn't floating at all, she was not on the air, she was the air. Cordelia felt the solidness of her body passing away. With each day she felt a little thinner, and a little stronger. The powers she had had on earth seemed to pale to that she felt now. The visions still came, but it was no longer like a premonition, she lived the moments like she was part of them. She felt herself becoming the people she saw, and Cordelia hated it. She hated it with every inch of her soul. She was losing herself in this place, this ‘higher realm’. Skip had turned out to be less of a spirit guide and more of a doorman, here you are, hope you enjoy your stay, you're fucked if you don't. Thanks. Thanks bunches. Cordelia wanted to put her feet on the ground. She wanted to crawl into a warm bath or a lover’s arms. She wanted to feel warm. She wanted to feel the love and joy she knew she deserved. She had fought the good fight and all that blather. She had played the part of the hero. She saved her friends from the demon lobsters that had invaded the hotel. She had pulled some of the hate out of Connor. She had tried so hard to help Angel's son, she had helped Angel. Cordelia wanted Angel. He was all she had thought of during her first weeks here. Here not there. Angel. She had tried to tell herself that The Powers That Be Deserving An Ass Kicking had made her fall in love with Angel to test her. To see if she was strong enough to give up a chance at love. That wasn't it. She knew it was more than that. For six years she had known Angel, fighting beside him, working beside him, watching him, wanting him. Cordelia wanted to see joy in those eyes. She wanted to see Angel's dark eyes look upon his son and know that he belonged in the human world, that his fight was not in vain. He was loved. Floating again, above, above nothing, belonging to no space or time, losing more of herself each day. Cordelia longed to be solid, she wanted to fall back to the earth. She begged over and over like a mantra in her head. Let me go home. *** Spike wasn't ready for the coldness of the water. This is Southern Bloody California, why does it feel like South Hampton? He dove in. He knew he was mad. He wondered out loud if Drusilla wasn't sending him little fairy visions, planting crazy thoughts in his head like Angel had once done to her. He had just jumped into the Pacific Ocean to look for his Sire. It occurred to Spike at this point that talking to Angel might not be worth becoming shark bait, but he had to try. He put his head under water, letting his eyes adjust to the terrible sting of the salt it contained, and dove deeper. Spike fell to the ocean floor, not too deep here, but still far over his head. He tried to push the panic in his head, telling him he shouldn’t be here, deep into the recesses of his mind. He couldn't drown, he was a vampire. He had hidden in lakes and rivers with Angelus more than once evading enemies and angry mobs. He knew he could stay under for hours and be none the worse for wear. Spike began a completely random search pattern, it being night and too deep to have any stars or lights for reference. He crossed the ocean floor slowly, fighting his body’s natural urge to float. He aimed out of the port as best he could judge, thinking that if you were going to try to drown a vampire you probably would head out of the busy port for open ocean, but how far. He replayed the details of Angel's disappearance in his mind. He had taken Connor to a movie around 10, just after dark, about half way through Helicopters and pissed off torture victims interrupt the big fight scene, back at the hotel around 11:30, mysterious phone call from Cordelia soon after, on the road by midnight, half hour drive to the Point Dume from the hotel. Six hours give or take between Angel arriving at the point and sunrise. That was a lot more time than Spike wanted to think about. If they, the elusive ‘They’, had nabbed Angel right away they could have gone to sea and sailed until just before the sun came up and then dumped him. Spike hadn’t been on a boat in quite some time. He thought hard about the ones he had been on, a cross Atlantic liner could travel about 20 nautical-miles in an hour, a small boat like Spike and Gunn had found might make about 10 knots, so say 60 or 70 miles in six hours. Spike decided he didn't want to spend the next several weeks trying to cover that amount of ground, or ocean floor to be more exact, on a hunch. Maybe Angel had put up a big fight, staved for hours, boring poor Connor to tears, and only been on the boat for a minute. Or maybe not. Spike decided to give it a few more minutes walk around then head back for shore. That’s when he saw a huge school of fish in a circling pattern. Spike swam as fast as he could into the fray. Large redfish began nipping at his ankles while many smaller fish became embedded in his clothes. It was only a matter of seconds before he saw their prey. A long metal box with a grate covering the top. Spike could smell the blood in the water, old blood. Blood he had tasted in his lifetime. Blood he had worshipped. The fish began to back away at his arrival, widening their circle of attack, a few brave ones stayed to nip at him as he got close enough to touch the box. He let his body float over the top of the box once he had a good grip on the side. Inside he saw his Sire. Beaten, bloody, bound. His Sire. He had found Angel. * Gunn arrived back at the hotel to find Fred sitting in the lobby eating ice cream. She jumped up at his arrival, running to give him a hug and a quick kiss. "Charles," Fred hesitated for a moment, then continued, "I didn't know what to say so I just gave him some ice cream." "Gave who ice cream." Gunn asked. He looked around the corner of the large lobby desk and saw Connor sitting in Angel's office toying with his bowl of ice cream. "How long has he been here?" "Just a few minutes, he didn't say where he's been or anything. He just asked if Angel was here and when I told him no he just sat down and he's hardly said two words since." "This day just keeps getting weirder." "Speaking of weird, where’s William?" Fred asked as she took another bite of the ice cream she had nearly forgotten. "I left him at Point Dume, he said he was going fishing. Long story." Gunn again looked at Connor. "You left him in Santa Monica? How is he going to get back here?" She said through a mouthful of thick cream. "Wow, that's so sexy how you can talk with all that chocolate in your mouth." Gunn said side-stepping her punch. "Charles, I'm serious." "He's a vampire, they just have ways of getting around, he has my number if he needs a ride. He just said he'd meet me back here, so I left." Connor was now in the lobby with them. Gunn gave him a sharp look and took a step forward, placing himself between Connor and Fred. "Guess it's a good thing I came back when I did." "Hey Gunn. Left who?" Connor had cleaned himself up a bit over the summer, got a haircut, but he still freaked Gunn out. He was as strong as his mother and nearly as fast as Angel, not really the guy you want to party with, unless he's on your side. "Don’t you hey me like you just went out for a candy bar. You don't get to show up after two months and just ‘hey’. You start with where you’ve been, followed by why you didn't call, and end with I'm sorry Gunn, let me make it right and tell you where Angel is!" Gunn took another step forward crowding the much smaller boy. "I don't know where he is." Connor stated flatly, not backing down from Gunn. "Yeah I bet." "Left who?" Connor repeated. * Angel opened his eyes when he heard the sound of banging on the box. He had half expected to see a school of sharks tearing into his cage when he saw a very human hand reach over the grating. Angel began to thrash inside his bonds, he instantly regretted it, the sharp lengths of the cable that bound his arms and legs sent splinters into his already raw skin. He tried to still himself and see who was trying to help him. Angel bit his lower lip to distract himself from the pain that shot through his body. He had been able to put himself in a trancelike state most of the day, and the renewed activity not only brought him out of his trance, it brought him into the searing pain. It was through this burning pain that he saw a mat of blonde hair and pale skin float over his prison. It finally dawned on him who he was seeing. Spike. His William had come to rescue him. Once again Spike moved across the top of the box testing the strength of the welds that Justine had placed on each side. Angel waited to see a glimpse of Spike's face. He didn't have to wait long, after his inspection Spike stopped just above the box and looked at Angel, giving him a little smile, then moving to the side again. He mouthed the word ‘Ready’ to Angel. Angel nodded at him and waited for Spike to break the welds with a rock he presumably pulled off the ocean floor. He then heard the long rod being pulled out of the side panels. Spike pulled the grated lid from the box and tossed it to the sandy floor. He then counted off with his fingers 1..2..3. On three Angel pushed up on the thick cables with all of his strength. At the same time Spike pulled at the cable where Connor had bolted it down. On the third attempt the cable that bound Angel's arms gave loose and he was able to slide his legs free of the other two cables that had held him for weeks. Spike took Angel's arm, and together they began their assent to the surface. Once they had breached the top, Spike slowly kicked his legs moving them toward the coast. Once Spike had pulled Angel up on the rocky shore both vampires instinctively gasped for air and tried to expel the seawater from their bodies. They lay together for a moment, spent from the swim and bloodied from the bites of the fish, who were not terribly eager to let their prey go. Once they had sufficiently recovered enough to move, Spike took Angel into his arms and whispered ‘Sire." Angel pressed his bleeding body into the comforting arms that held him and both men began to weep. Neither one knew what the other had gone through, or how they had managed to come together again, but in that moment the bond of sire and childe was as strong as it had ever been. * Spike and Angel managed to find a cab, after being turned down several times, seems taxi drivers in Santa Monica were not fond of soaking wet and bloodied fares, especially in the middle of the night. Spike put on his most gentlemanly manner and said they had been carjacked and thrown off the bank, but thankfully they did not have their wallets taken. So if the driver didn't mind wet money they were good for the trip. That settled the two soaking men took a seat in the back seat and sat in silence until they reached the Hyperion. Spike paid the driver and helped Angel out of the cab. Angel looked up the steps to the front door and shook his head. He didn't want the others to see him this way, and Spike really hadn’t told him anything yet, so he motioned to the side entrance. Understanding Spike held his Angel's arm while they went up the stairs to the second floor. Once inside they moved silently to Angel's room. Angel followed Spike into the bathroom, where he let himself be undressed. Spike turned the water on in the shower and waited for it to begin steaming. He then removed his own wet clothes and stepped inside, reaching his hand out for Angel. Angel reluctantly took the offered hand and joined Spike under the hot water. The cascade of warmth was a shock to Angel's system. He had been so cold in the box, he had found himself wishing he were back in Hell, at least in Hell he had never been cold. Spike had lathered a washrag with a sweet smelling soap and began washing over Angel's wounds. Some of the oldest wounds had begun to heal, but the more blood he had lost the slower his healing process had been. He was sure that none of the bites he had received in the last month had healed at all. Spike next took Angel's head and placed it directly under the pulsing stream of water, then he began to massage his scalp with his nails. Spike ran light circles through his Sire’s hair working the shampoo into a rich foam. When he thought he had gotten most of the sand that had collected there over the past months he rinsed Angel's tender head and stood under the warm stream for a moment himself. After a perfunctory scrubbing of his own body Spike stepped out of the shower and grabbed a pair of towels from the nearby rack. Angel looked so much smaller to Spike now than he had ever remembered him being. The lack of blood had thinned him to the point of being gaunt. It reminded him of the first time he had seen him in Sunnydale, a century of rarely feeding, and almost never on human blood had made him almost sleek. He had not at all been the looming presence Angelus had been. Now once again, Spike wondered what had become of the Sire he dreamt of. The huge and powerful vampire that he had loved when he was truly still William disappeared. He had faded away to a mere shell of himself. Spike ran the soft towel over Angel's body, trying to not press into the open cuts. Once both of them were sufficiently dried off, Spike led Angel to the bed. He threw back the covers and eased Angel into a reclining position. Spike then joined him under the silken coverlet. Without a word he laid Angel onto his side and nestled his own head onto the same pillow. Spike then bent his head giving Angel access to his neck. When Angel hesitated Spike reached behind him and took Angel's hand. With a gentle squeeze he pulled the arm over his waist, effectively bringing Angel closer. Spike then dragged a sharp fingernail across the side of his neck, instantly a small rivulet of blood trickled out of the fresh wound. Spike heard the satisfying sound of Angel licking his lips. "Please Sire, drink." Angel's will power was fading as fast as his strength. He bent his head down and felt his teeth sharpen. He rested his lips over Spike's neck, lightly running his tongue along the cut. It was the blood of his Childe, and yet blood he had never tasted. Angelus had had the pleasure many times, but Angel never had. He savored the salted liquid as it ran over his tongue. After a few moments of gentle lapping Angel's grip on Spike's hand grew stronger and Spike felt the sharp piercing of his jugular vein. A river of blood filled Angel's mouth as fast as he could drink it. Angel swallowed greedily. He felt the powerful blood of his line course through his body, healing it as it touched each wound. The blood of Aurelius was strong and potent like no other he had ever tasted. Darla had given him that gift, a gift he had shared with so few. And now, more than a two centuries later he was receiving the gift again, from the only one of his line left to give it too him. Darla was dead, Drusilla would never return to him. All he had was William. William. Spike. He did not even know who was sharing his bed, or why. How had he known, how could he have known how badly I needed him? Angel had so many questions, buried in his childe’s neck lie so many questions. Spike let out a soft moan as if hearing Angel's thoughts. Angel was brought out of his reverie and released his grip on Spike's neck. He gave a tender last lick over the holes he had torn, again Spike moaned and leaned further into his Sire’s chest. This was what Spike had wanted from the moment he got his soul back. He wanted to take comfort in his sire. To be held and claimed. To know that Angel was there. Now. Always. "William." "Yes Sire." Spike answered. "Why are you here?" Spike had practiced his answer for nearly two months. He had ran this moment over and over in his head from the moment the demon had laid his hand on him in Africa. "Because I am yours." Spike whispered it so quietly a human would not have been able to hear him. "Are you mine? The last time you were here you tried to kill me, and now you come and save me. You saved me." Angel kissed the neck still laid out in front of him. "Angel, I have so many things to tell you, so many things." Angel could feel his childe trembling and knew he was on the brink of tears. "Then tell me, there's no rush, I'm in no shape to go down stairs and I don't want Fred and Cordelia to see me looking like I went four hundred rounds with a red snapper, which by the way I think I did." Angel tried to laugh at his own joke, but it hurt too much. "Oh god Angel, I don't know where to start, I only know it ended in Afr...Oh bloody hell!" "What?" "Cordelia!" "What about her? Spike, What?" "She wasn't with you, I mean of course she wasn't. Get dressed, we have to go downstairs." Spike was out from the covers as quickly as they had gotten into them, with Angel rising fast behind him. "Angel, Cordelia went missing that night too. No one has seen her." "Connor." **** Part Five Have wondered how it would all end. Copyright 2002 - Tania Violators will be beaten to death with a shovel (A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend)