Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the characters contained within. I hold no claim on them.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set during Buffy versus Dracula and then goes seriously AU after that! Buffy is missing and Spike is the only one who has noticed. Where is Buffy and why is Spike the only one who is worried? Will the peroxide vampire be able to find her before it's too late? What has happened to the Scoobies and will they save Xander before he really becomes Dracula's butt monkey?

Chapter 24

Dawn slipped out of her room and hesitated at the door to her mom's, which was next door to hers. Dawn had heard the noises again and this time instead of hiding under her bed covers, she was going to be tough and find out what it was.

They had been in LA for a few days; Dawn had sulked the whole drive down. She wanted to stay home near Spike and her friends. She didn't feel safe in LA; Angel was behaving weirdly since he picked them up. He had been all over Mom-- making sure she was comfortable in the car and settling her into the rooms that Cordy had cleared out for them. He also was behaving really strangely around her.  Dawn kept catching the brunette vampire staring at her and then rubbing his wrist before wandering off.

Cordy had been the only fun thing to happen in LA - she had taken Dawn to all the coolest shops and the best hangout for under-aged teens in the city. Cordelia had changed since High School.  She was still a fashion plate but there was a nicer vibe to her.

Dawn could still remember Willow and Buffy talking about how nasty she had been to them and Xander. But this Cordelia was mellower.  She still had the sharp tongue that she used with relish, but something on a basic level had changed. She was much nicer than Dawn remembered her, and was really patient with Angel's mood swings-- and that took some major work. Angel was sooo premenstrual and totally high maintenance.  She had no idea how Buffy had put up with him.

Gunn was cool. Dawn really liked him. He had a laid back attitude and was really cute. He hung out in the hotel most days and helped out with cases. Dawn briefly wondered how come Angel-- the 'Champion'-- got away with charging for helping the helpless, it was his calling and he took all major credit cards for it? Buffy didn't, and neither did the other Scoobies. Dawn grinned at the goofy image that popped into her head of Angel dusting a vamp and then whipping out a credit card machine and charging the chomped on victim.

Not of the good.

Dawn shoved the image of Peaches out of her head.
 

Instead, she thought about the hours Gunn spent asking her about Buffy and what a Slayer was. Dawn hadn't minded talking about her big sister much because Gunn was a good listener and had been amazed by all the Slayer stuff. He had asked about Angel and Buffy's relationship, and Cordy had interrupted with some stories but had changed the subject when Angel had appeared on the landing.
 

As far as Dawn could make out, Angel still considered Buffy his soul mate and greatest love and the other’s here in the agency thought the same. 'As if!' Dawn rolled her eyes. 'Spike is sooo the one for Buffy.' Dawn froze as she finally realised that Spike and Buffy were a couple and she had been crushing on Spike to the point where she had become a major brat. Her face flushed red and Dawn hunched her shoulders. She felt like an idiot-- sure Spike was gorgeous, sexy and really, really hot, but he had never looked at her as anything but a kid sister. He had been into Buffy from the moment he had clapped eyes on her, even if he had been with freaky Dru. As Mom said, he was in a phase and had to go through some stuff before he realised where he was meant to be.
 

With Buffy.
 

Dawn sighed and with that she pushed aside all her icky feelings towards Buffy and in turn felt better for it.
 

Dawn froze when she heard a whispered voice. She knew that voice! The teen had heard it on only one occasion, but the timber and tone was ingrained on her psyche.
 

Tiptoeing up to Angel's suite, Dawn pressed her ear against the door and tried to make out what was being said. All she could hear were sheets rustling and a few sighs and ewwww! A groan. Angel was spanking his monkey! Dawn leapt back from the door as if it were burning hot. 'Guess he can do that!'  Dawn pulled a face and then, before she could run back to her room, she heard a feminine voice giggling.

A sickly sweet sound that hung cloyingly in the air-- and was really familiar to Dawn.
 

She scurried away and slipped into an empty room, almost shutting the door.
 

She left a teeny gap to peer through.
 

A firm hand clapped down on Dawn's shoulder.  "Just what are you doing, young lady?"
 

A scream clawed its way past her heart, which had leapt into her throat.
 

"Ahhhhh!!!"
 

"Dawn, what are you doing? I hope this isn't one of your escape attempts?" Joyce asked tiredly.
 

Dawn clapped her hand to her mouth and managed to stop the scream from continuing. She threw her arms around her sleepy Mom and squeezed her tight.
 

Joyce rocked her youngest and ran a soothing hand through her hair. "Shhh, sorry baby."
 

***********
 

Angel woke at the sound of a scream. Reaching under the bed he grabbed a sword that he kept there for emergencies. Throwing back the sheets, he swung his legs over the side and stood up fluidly. His pajama pants fell to his ankles unnoticed and the agitated vampire took a step forward and fell flat on his face. Clamouring to his feet, Angel pulled up his silk pants and secured them loosely on his hips.
 

Angel cocked his head and sniffed the air. The room was filled with the musky scent of sex, and he frowned in confusion. If he didn't know better, the dark-haired vampire would have been positive he’d had sex.
 

Pushing the silly imaginings out of his mind, Angel threw himself out of his suite in the direction of the scream and was greeted with a duo of feminine yelps.
 

Angel lowered his sword at the sight of Joyce and Dawn staring at him with huge frightened eyes.
 

"Uh, sorry." The flustered vampire ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. "Um, are you okay?"
 

Joyce took in his undressed state and nodded. "My fault. I startled Dawn, and then she panicked."
 

Angel took in the dark rings around Joyce's eyes and the sound of Dawn's racing heart and shook his head. "Sorry to add to the general panic.  It's just when someone screams in the hotel, it's usually because something with horns or slime is attacking."
 

Dawn peered over at Angel, safely ensconced in her mother's arms. "Who was in your room with you?" she asked accusingly. The youngest Summers was all to aware of the fallout which ensued from Angel getting a big happy and there was no way she was going to let him slide on this. Her blue eyes narrowed and she waited impatiently for a reply.
 

Angel blinked in surprise at the teenagers question.  "No one." He shifted uncomfortably on his bare feet as Dawn pinned him with a laser-like glare.
 

"But I heard some woman's voice in there!" she exclaimed angrily. Dawn hated it when adults lied to her.
 

Angel shook his head. "I was fast asleep until you screamed." He glanced around the corridor, his hackles rising. Someone or something had been here recently; the scent was faint but there. Concern for Dawn and Joyce rose in him and he hustled them off to their bedrooms-- ignoring Dawn's protests and Joyce's soft voice.
 

"You need your rest for the meeting with my friend Lorne tomorrow, Mrs Summers."
 

He sank down into a crouch, his pale skin gleaming in the artificial light. An undead sentinel dressed only in black silk PJ bottoms with a shining blade of tempered steel held loosely in one of his hands.  Angel's calm pose belying the confusion in his mind, he was worried. Unaware of the faint shimmer of purple powder on his shoulders, the souled vampire stayed on watch for the rest of the night.

He had made a blood oath and was determined to stand by it.
 

*********
 

"Pet?" Spike hesitated at the entrance of their bedroom. He could sense her distress through the sire bond.
 

She had been on edge ever since the other night. Once the adrenalin had worn off-- after they had gone back into The Bronze to find Anya and Tara-- his childe had slumped against his side and begged to be taken home.
 

The two women had helped them to the Desoto before climbing into the back. On the trip back, Spike filled them in on the confrontation on the roof of the Bronze. Anya and Tara both exclaimed with relief that one of the Brides was dust, and cosseted Buffy as best they could. One less, biggish bad to worry about in the coming days.
 

Tara had frowned for a moment when Spike had mentioned the name that the fallen Bride had taunted Buffy with, but had not said anything, choosing to hold her counsel for now until she had a chance to talk to Giles. Instead she had busied herself with tending to Buffy's bleeding knuckles.
 

Buffy rolled over in the four-poster bed and stared solemnly over at Spike.  She looked scared and elated in the same moment. She had allowed her demon free reign briefly and it had felt too good, and it terrified her. Her euphoria was for the heart ripping outage of skank number one.

There were two more on her list.

Buffy knew she was wrong to want vengeance on her tormentors; the Slayer in her was disapproving, wagging a metaphorical finger at her for her actions. A clean kill in battle was good, but to decimate an opponent as she had done the previous night?  It was wrong and her inner Slayer was not impressed with Buffy.
 

Spike cocked his head and waited for her to say something - anything. Intuitively knowing that now was not the time for his usual flow of banter, instead concern darkened his azure eyes and there was a solemnity to his face that was uncommon. He waited and watched as Buffy pleated the sheet covering her naked form from his disappointed eyes-- even when he was being a good puppy he was still in want of his girl.
 

"I'm bad, aren't I?" Buffy queried softly as she found a loose thread and whirled it between her thumb and forefinger.
 

Spike's stomach clenched with anguish and sympathy for the wretched and softly spoken question.  His legs carried him to the side of their bed and his hands reached down and pulled Buffy's soft and acquiescent form against his.
 

Buffy curled her hands around Spike's neck and nudged her head under his chin, seeking comfort and reassurance. Spike sank down onto the bed and curled around his purring childe. "Not a bad bone in your delectable little bod, sweetness," he rumbled at her.

Buffy's mind recoiled from the memories of the Bride’s screaming face as she shattered another finger bone, trying to gain some comfort from Spike's gruff words.
 

Their peace was shattered with the shrill tone of the telephone ringing. Spike and Buffy exchanged a glance - the only ones who had their new number were Giles and the girls.
 

*********

Buffy paced back and forth across the linoleum floor of the Magic Box, acutely aware of the four sets of eyes tracking her every step.

She paused and whirled to face them all, her mouth opening but no words passing her full lips.

"I know it's all very frustrating, but Tara has a theory." Giles nodded at the serene wiccan who sat next to him.

"All we have is this name the Bride threw out at you, right?" Tara questioned Buffy softly.

"Yeah," Spike interjected.

"Well, we spent some time searching through the more reliable sources and nothing." Anya waved her arms in the air. Her bright eyes were underscored with dark shadows, exhaustion lingered at the edges of all their consciousnesses, but the dire situation forced them all to ignore it.

Tara leant forward and carefully closed the tome that lay open in front of her. "It was only a passing comment I made, but Giles felt it may have some basis."  She shrugged, slightly flustered that she may have hit upon the source of their barren researches.

"What is it, Tara?" Buffy asked with only the teeniest hint of exasperation marring her voice.

"All I said was that maybe this Glory person is older than the written word? Or even the oral tradition? Maybe this is why there is nothing written down or recorded anywhere." Tara revealed a trace of triumph in her voice.

Spike's eyes filled with admiration and he nodded sagely at Tara. "Right smart bint, aren't you, Glinda?" He glanced over at Buffy to check she was not having another meltdown.   Right now it was time for planning-- later this evening he would hold her and tend to her. For now, his childe needed to be strong.

Buffy glared at Spike, all too aware of what he was feeling, and then ignored him. Instead, she turned to Giles. "What do we do now? If she's that old then are we gonna have to start looking at cave paintings for information?"

Anya failed to suppress a snort of laughter at Buffy's last comment; her peals of unexpected laughter infused all of them with shared mirth. It had been a long time since any of them had laughed and it felt good.

"We're at a loss as how to continue - all we have is a name." Giles wiped the laughter tears from his cheeks. “Whistler did say if he discovered anything then he would come to us with the information. His absence suggests that the Powers have no idea.”

Giles pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have you attempted to contact him?”

Buffy flopped down at the table and prodded the discarded leather bound books with a cautious finger, unwilling to go too near them in case Giles forced one on her.

Spike leaned back in his chair, letting the front legs leave the floor as he swung back and forth, his face a study of concentration. “Nope, been a bit busy recently.  The short arse kind of slipped my mind-- it might be worth a shot?” Anya shrugged and rose and began to put the shop to rights, ready for the next day's trade.

Tara and Giles began to stack the defunct tomes of information. Giles glanced over at Buffy and then the telephone. She noticed the direction his eyes had travelled and the slender woman’s shoulders slumped as she divined the path his mind had travelled.

"We're gonna have to call Travers, aren't we?" Buffy's whispered comment broke the contemplative silence.

Giles nodded tiredly. "We have to - I have exhausted all the avenues of research I have."

Spike's head shot up and he eyed Buffy cautiously, unwilling to voice what they all were worrying about.

"Can you make the call?" Buffy asked tiredly. She had no wish to talk to the head of the Council and was eager to pass the buck.

Tara eyed Giles. She could see that his aura had darkened slightly and tried to calm him with a smile-- but it was to no avail. Willow had told her all about the way the Council had fired Giles and then sent Buffy 'Wesley the Weedy Watcher' – though, to be honest, the Wesley she had met hadn't been weedy at all. The quiet Wiccan knew that Giles making contact with his former boss was not an easy proposition for the older man.

"Why don't we ask Hoffie?" Anya stalled Giles just as his hand reached for the phone.

"Your ex boss?" Spike cocked his head. He felt marginally safer talking to the old Vengeance demon rather than the stick up the arse, Travers.  The former was less likely to try and stake his girl on first sight. Though, there was the whole, 'ohhh a turned Slayer!  What a novelty.  I'll add her to my creepy collection of trophies…' problem with D'Hoffreyn. Spike figured that he would probably have enough time to rip the old demon's horns off and shove ‘em where the sun didn't shine if he eyed up his Slayer the wrong way.

Giles’s lips gave an enormous twitch at the thought of his shop manager summoning her former mentor, but managed to keep silent - at this moment, he would accept information from the devil if it would help. There was something unsettling about the entire situation. If he had been younger and more aware of pop culture references, he would have said his 'Spider senses were tingling', and not in a good way.

Before anyone else could toss in their two pennies worth, a phone rang.

Everyone looked around, wondering who had programmed such an irritating ring tone.  One that sounded suspiciously familiar to Giles. The watcher's eyes landed on Spike who rocked in dissolute splendour on his chair, his Doc Martin clad feet now propped up on the research table.

"Wot?" Spike rumbled.

Giles arched an eyebrow at the lounging vampire who had now hooked his thumbs on the waistband of his sprayed on jeans, his fingers neatly framing something Giles would rather not not have his attention drawn to.

"Spike, I doubt any of the girls has a penchant for The Clash - answer your phone!"

Spike’s feet thudded heavily to the ground and what resembled a sheepish look flickered across his face. He fumbled in his pockets muttering under his breath.

"Got it," Spike muttered as he pulled out the small mobile from an inner pocket and then stared at the display. His pale blue eyes shot over to Buffy for a split second before he rose and stalked from the shop floor, and into the training room.

"He got it a few days ago...guess he's not used to it," Buffy trailed off. She strained to hear the hushed conversation in the other room, but failed miserably. She was getting sick of the calls Spike was getting daily and the mumbled cryptic conversations.  After the calls, he would say nothing and curl up around her and snuffle at her hair.

"But the Clash?" Giles queried with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Better than I Wanna be Sedated," Buffy shrugged.

Spike swung the door open with a bang and stalked into the shop, muttering under his breath.

"Spike?" Anya called out as the agitated vampire began to pace back and forth an angry grimace on his face.

"Yeah, pidge?" Spike halted when he realised yet again he was the centre of attention.

"The call?" Buffy prompted patiently.

"Right...yeah. S'Peaches.  Had some info and… well… we need the proverbial paddle," Spike muttered. He reached over and pulled Buffy up, sitting in her chair before prompting her to take a seat back in his lap.

"Paddle? Is that the weapon we need to defeat this Glory person?" Anya asked quizzically.

"No luv, it's a saying. Means we're in deep trouble," Spike explained gently.

Understanding blossomed across the ex-demon's face. Anya smiled brightly and gave a sharp nod.  "Thank you for explaining."  Her face glowed with pleasure that-- for once-- someone had taken the time to explain what they meant and not hushed her up impatiently.

"The call.  What did Angel say?" Buffy growled, her eyes flashed lavender briefly, "And since when are you two phone buddies?" she snarked.

Spike deftly avoided the latter question; there was no way he was prodding that Hornet's nest. If his girl found out her ma was sickly and that Angel and he knew about it, then both their gooses were cooked. He'd gotten the short version of what had happened, and to be honest, if the Poof had’ve been in front of him, Spike would've staked him on the spot. 'Taking Mum and the Nibs into a Demon bar, what the bloody hell was the ponce thinking?' Spike rested his forehead against Buffy's throat and growled at the thought of Joyce and Dawn surrounded by slimy, oozing scum. 'If he wanted the girls read, why the ruddy hell didn't the brooding arse get the owner of the club to come to him?'

"Spike when you've finished pouting, could you possibly tell us what you have learned?" Giles interrupted Spike angry thoughts.

The blond vampire's head snapped up, "I don't brood, I was thinking deeply!" he added lamely. He was still ruminating over what Angel’s friend had revealed, about Joyce and the hair-brained plan the Poof was about to embark on. 

The bloke, Lorne, had read Joyce to find out what was wrong with her, and he had found out the source of her illness. Which was not good, but Peaches had promised that Lorne had pointed him in the direction of a cure. But what the LA Fang Gang hadn't counted on, was Dawn humming along -- or the club owner's reaction. 'Pansy passed out!  Nibblet's voice can't be that bad?'

Buffy pinched him hard on the hip as she pasted on a saccharine sweet smile. "What is it, Spike? Or do I have to get the Abba records out?"
 

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