Come Back to Me

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 12

All eyes turned to him; Spike raked his ice blue stare over each and every one of them. 

“Buffy.  It has to be.  And he’d do anything to keep her away from me; prick will stop at nothing.” 

Willow’s brow crinkled as she tried to think things through.  It was true that Angel was obsessed with Buffy, always had been, and he hadn’t been at all happy at Spike’s arrival in the midst of his new empire.  But what could he be doing that twanged Lorne’s evil detector? 

Giles broke the tense silence.   

“Ahem, yes, well.  I know that Angel is still…enamoured of Buffy, but he’d never do anything to harm her.  Surely even you’d accept that, Spike.” 

“You think?  Listen, Watcher – just because you’ve read a few books doesn’t mean you know him.  He’s a complete tosser; Angelus is evil, yeah everybody gets that.   But Angel, he’s no Prince Charming either - he was a nasty piece of work before he got himself turned and you don’t lose your true nature completely when the demon sets up home.” 

There was silence as everybody tried to process what was happening.  Was it possible that Angel was doing something, messing with them?   

Lorne broke the silence. 

“Look, pumpkins – I know it’s hard to believe but hey!  Take it from the demon’s mouth – Angel is not coming to this with clean hands.  He’s dabbling with darkness and he’s not visiting the washroom to clean beneath those nails, sweeties.  Face it – this place has him in its grip and now he’s playing by its rules.”  

He moved forwards from where he was lounging.  “I know it’s hard to believe.  Freddles – for you more than anyone, with him being the ‘handsome man – rescued me’ and all.  But he has a flaw; we all know it, we all ignore it.  Spike’s got it right.  The flaw is Buffy.  Now, I don’t know this for sure but seems to me we’ve got a rogue hero and a sick kid -- a sick kid, who wasn’t sick until she got here -- plus the Slayer with the mostest, who can’t quit town because of her.  You don’t have to be the man with two brains to do the math --which is just as well since my solitary brain has now shrunk to a pea from Seabreeze overload.” 

Spike growled and vamped out, his emotions surging and releasing his demon to take control. 

“Right!  That’s it!  Nobody messes with my girls and I’ve had more than enough of him yanking Buffy’s chain.  Giles!  You must see it; he has to be put down like the rabid dog he is.  She’s your Slayer, man!  And the Niblet?  What the fuck’s she ever done to him?” 

“I agree, Spike, that Angel seems to be out of sorts.  I did mention this earlier – but no, apparently I was speaking in Swahili for all the notice anyone took.  He’s obviously up to something but, Lorne – I think you’re stretching it a bit to say he’s deliberately harming Dawn.  We don’t know that, we can’t prove it.  We need to research first before we make a hasty move.  Agreed?” 

Giles swept his gaze across the gathered troops.  One by one they nodded their agreement, Faith hanging her head as she did so – the prospect of such a betrayal hurting her more than the others after her ‘redemption’ at Angel’s hands.  They arranged to meet the following day and after being assigned their tasks, they dispersed, leaving Giles alone with Spike in the garage. 

Wraith Spike was pacing, seething with anger, clenched fists jammed deep in his pockets.  Rupert Giles sighed, removing his glasses once again for a needless clean as he tried to occupy his mind as well as his hands.  He wanted to avoid this discussion but knew that he couldn’t.  Of course Spike wanted to rip and rend; he was a vampire – it was the nature of the beast after all and as the intended prey was not human, theoretically there was nothing to stop him.  In fact, his soul would probably pick up bonus points if it rid the world of another demon.  And to be honest, Giles had already suspected Angel of being something other than the enigmatic hero he purported to be; there’d been something ‘off’ about him of late as he’d tried to tell his compatriots.  The vampire wasn’t Angelus – that was obvious; but not exactly Angel either.  There was a cruel edge to him, too easy to rejoice in others’ misfortunes.  He’d bet his mint condition Captain Beefheart debut album that it was Wolfram and Hart’s influence that had the brooding hero slipping back to the dark side.   

Eventually Spike’s gravely voice opened the innings. 

“Pleased with yourself, Watcher?  While everybody’s pissing about dabbling in fucking books and prophecies, Buffy and Dawn are in real danger.  And yours truly can do FUCK ALL to help them!  I couldn’t punch a hole in a FUCKING PAPER BAG!!!!” 

Spike was mere inches away from his face when he yelled, the hairs on Giles’ skin rising at the proximity.  It was something else to add to Fred’s investigation.  No actual contact but a certain recognition that there was a degree of physical manifestation about Spike’s presence. 

“Calm down, Spike.  I know how you feel, but rest assured I understand exactly what Angel is capable of.  Not Angelus.  Angel.  I have access to Council records…or I did have, before they were blown up.  But I’ve learned over the years not to be swept away by a knee-jerk reaction.  We’ll deal with it; nobody will hurt Buffy, or Dawn.  Not while I breathe.” 

Both men stood toe to toe, each of them projecting their love for the Summers girls in some kind of pissing contest.  Neither doubted the other’s sincerity and after some manly posturing and glowering they broke their locked gaze and relaxed their aggressive stances.  Giles leant back against a car, his palms leaving greasy prints on the pristine surface. Spike patted himself down reflexively, searching for his non-existent cigarettes.  After a minute or two he spoke, softly. 

“If Angel really is dipping his toe in the murky depths, we are well and truly fucked, my friend.  You know he’ll be relentless about this.” 

There was a beat as Giles polished shining lenses again, Spike’s eyes drawn to the familiar gesture. 

“Perhaps.  But he hasn’t reckoned on us.  What wouldn’t you do for Buffy, for Dawn?” 

Spike’s reply was a feral grin.  

“I think it’s time we found out, don’t you?” 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

The security operative bounced off the walls as he found himself flung away from the conference table.  He crumpled into a heap, fighting for breath from the punctured lung he was sure would show up in medical… when he finally escaped…if he ever did. 

“Sir, Mr Angel sir – we couldn’t track them all.  We followed the one wearing the duster…and your PA.  You said to follow Spike, the blond.  I don’t know how it happened but I’ll find out immediately, Mr Angel.” 

Angel ground his teeth in frustration.  He was surrounded by cretins! 

“So, the sum total of your surveillance for the last three hours is a list of items purchased from Armani, Dolce et Gabana and some comic shop?  And these photographs – he’s lounging on a bench in the park sucking on an ice cream cone soaking up the rays.  It didn’t strike you as strange that a vampire was sunbathing in the middle of the day without bursting into fucking flames?  And where was Harmony then?  Any clue?  Are all my employees terminally dense?” 

The injured man wheezed painfully, hanging his head in acknowledgement of the stupidity of himself and his colleagues.   

“Get out of my sight!  The only reason you still live is that I understand that of the incompetents I employ to – and I say this laughingly – keep me secure, you are the most capable.  I don’t even wanna know what the others are like.  Out!” 

Angel turned to look out of the necro-tinted windows as the injured man dragged himself across the floor and the door clicked shut behind him.  What were they up to, the Scoobies, his employees?  Yes, his!  He was CEO of Wolfram and Hart and each of the former Angel Investigation luminaries had signed up to work for the law firm.  All those contracts were binding, beyond death.  With no resignation clause.  

He shrugged, grinning to himself.  It didn’t matter; soon none of it would matter, once he had Buffy in his arms and in his bed.  There was a moment when he’d actually felt a surge of empathy for her, that day after she’d broken down in front of everyone and whispered of Spike’s demise.  It felt good, the frisson of satisfaction at the thought of dusty Spike, as he oozed sympathy and wiped her tears.  Alright, so the bit about her never being his cookie dough pissed him off but he’d let it go.  She’d soon get over it.  He’d even meant it when he told her he’d miss Spike too.  And he did while he was gone – in the way you’d miss an earache. 

Of course, that all changed the instant the bleached freak was resurrected in the middle of his office.  While he could afford to be magnanimous and wait knowing Spike was buried in the Hellmouth, having him haunting his law firm was a different matter.  He was a goddamn ghost and he still had Buffy mooning over him like he was worth something. 

‘Boy needs reminding he only gets to play with my leavings till I want them back’ 

Pressing the intercom button, he winced as Harmony’s ‘pink’ voice echoed round the room.  “Yeah, boss?  What can I do you for?”  He heard the snort of male laughter in the background; Andrew, the Spike wannabe – it had to be.   

“Harmony!  Get your butt in here – and bring Fido with you!” 

He cut the link and waited, counting slowly under his breath as he leaned against the massive desk that dominated the room.  Squeals preceded Harmony’s entrance as she continued to babble inanely to Tucker’s brother, the pair pushing and giggling as they clattered in. 

Angel glared and eventually even Harmony couldn’t ignore the deathly silence in the room.  Andrew stuttered to a halt and moved to stand behind her, crouching in an attempt to shield himself from Angel’s icy gaze. 

“Erm – yes boss.  What do you need?” 

What did he need?  Oh, he was about to get what he needed…

“I want you to organise a meeting, everybody – Buffy, Giles, Willow, the rest of the Sunnydale crew and my guys.  I’ve got news about Dawn.  I know that Buffy won’t want to leave her sister alone – maybe you could sit with her for a while; you and your friend.” 

Harmony had whipped out a furry pink notebook from somewhere inside her clinging suit and was busily making notes, Andrew looking over her shoulder.  As she finished writing, tongue poking out in concentration, she met her newfound best buddy’s eyes and they silently agreed. 

“Can do!  I’ll get right on it – shall I tell them to be here in an hour’s time?” 

Angel nodded, turning away in dismissal.   

He smirked as he caught Andrew’s excited words on the way out. 

“He’s really stern, isn’t he?  And tall…and the clothes!  So great!!” 

Time to up the ante.  Reaching for the fake prophecy he allowed himself a full on belly laugh.  This was going to be so easy! 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

An hour later all but Buffy and Spike were assembled once again in Angel’s office.  Faith refused to meet Angel’s eyes and Lorne had a momentary wiggins that she would tip him off that they were on to him.  ‘But Angel’s so wrapped up in himself he’s positively glowing with complacency… is that even possible?’  Lorne looked away and took a seat on the sofa at the far side of the room.  He relaxed back into the supple leather as he scanned the assorted warriors with his red demon eyes. 

The atmosphere was a little brittle but everyone was doing a remarkable job at acting normally.  ‘Ah yes, the Dynamic Duo - Giles and Wesley like matching bookends in Tomes R Us, studying the ammo.  Poor Faith…a mite jittery…good move, girl, to sit with Uncle Lorne, couldn’t be further from Angel if she tried.  My oh my – eat your heart out, Cleopatra – Willow the Serene’s heading up the table, hands steepled in front of such an enigmatic little smile.  She’s just bustin’ inside, but ten out of ten for the poker face.  Freddles – full on  babbling mode, fiddling with her hair and smiling nervously as she paces.  Nothing out of the ordinary there -- perhaps a tad hyper-hyper but still recognisably Fred – keep it cool, sweetie, you’re tougher than you know.’   

‘Here comes Gunn sliding into a seat next to Willow, doing the lawyerman thing with the briefcase… mmmm nice pen, looks like a Montblanc… just so long as he doesn’t come straight out and ask Angel what’s going on; the fists don’t always obey the mind.   

Moving along, he spotted Xander slouched against the wall by the windows.  His head was bowed, hair greasy and unkempt, shoulders slumped.  ‘Jeez he looks rough – talk about ‘don’t give a shit’ or even worse ‘put me out of my misery’.  There’s one big vat of unhappiness simmering away there.  Hate to see the guy suffer but maybe there’s more going on here than straightforward mourning; but right now that’ll have to go on the backburner. Too much to worry about with the current sitch. I’ll get back to Xander once we’ve cleared the next hurdle.  He is one sick puppy.'    

As Lorne considered this, he caught the little look Willow shot in her friend’s direction.  She was bothered too.  It seemed unlikely that she’d mentioned anything to him about the present situation in his condition – or worse, she had and he just didn’t care. 

All eyes turned to the door as it crashed open to admit a pissed off Slayer and her spectral companion.  She was arguing with him in sibilant hisses as they entered the room, her arms flailing wildly in an attempt to make her point.  Spike was helpless to stop her ranting but tried nonetheless, his last words echoing in the silent room. 

“……well, it‘s not my fault, pet!  If you’ve got a gripe, take it out on Peaches.  It’s him that’s dragged you away – not me!” 

Buffy flung herself in the armchair she’d sat in during her emotional breakdown what seemed a lifetime ago.  Spike hovered at her side, his body leaning towards hers until he felt the buzz of connection. 

Angel cleared his throat. 

“What?  You did drag her away, she’s not bloody happy leaving Dawn with that stupid bint and my soddin’ stalker!  Tell him, Buffy!” 

The slayer crossed her arms, lips pouting as she glared at Angel.  

“Look, can we just get on with this.  Dawn’s alone with a ditzy vampire and a failed nemesis…sis...sis…whatever it is.” 

Spike chuckled; she was unique, his Buffy; never could get the words right.  Everyone caught the loving glances they exchanged as Spike leaned in to gently place a kiss on her nose.  Lorne’s eyes widened as he noted the strange lightshow that enveloped them where their auras overlapped.  Clearly nobody else saw it as there was no reaction – except Willow, who nodded to him and smiled as she watched him go through the same thought processes she had. 

Angel almost sizzled with anger and jealousy as he looked on; eyes narrow slits as he failed to mask his loathing for his errant descendant.  The sooner he was gone the better.   

“Right, I guess you’re all wondering why you’re here.  I know I’m wondering why at least one of you is…so feel free to disappear any time you want, Spike.” 

“Going nowhere, mate.  Anyway I’d much rather listen to you prattle on, highlight of my day it is.”  With a smirk, Spike crossed his arms, mirroring Buffy’s posture and further inflaming Angel with their closeness.   

“Giles, Wesley – take a look at this.  I had the guys in Prophecies working overtime to try and see what’s wrong with Dawn; made it priority over everything else.”  He risked a sidelong glance at Buffy to see if she was impressed; if she was, she didn’t look it.  Ungrateful bitch. 

“They found the scroll deep in the archives.  I was able to make out a few words, phrases.  Can you work with it?” 

Giles took the scroll and unrolled it, smoothing it out on the desk between himself and Wesley.  Both scholars fell silent as they quickly scanned over the page; a few words jumped right out at them – just as Angel had planned.  They locked gazes as they finished reading.  It had to be relevant to their situation – it was too accurate to be coincidental. 

“We can work with it.  We just need a little time.” 

“What is it - what does it say, Giles?”  Buffy had got to her feet and taken a few steps towards the table, Spike at her side.   

Angel spoke.  “It’s Dawn – it’s about Dawn, Buffy.  I didn’t understand much, but the reason she’s in the coma?  I’ll be willing to bet my last bag of blood it’s that leach at your side.” 

She turned wide green eyes to meet with Spike’s blue.  He was as shocked as she was, mouth struggling to form words and coming up empty.   

“Giles?” she whispered, tears welling up and choking her voice.   

“I...I…don’t know, Buffy.  There is mention of a fallen hero, stronger than human, some link with the soul of another.  It needs to be translated.  Give us a little while.  Don’t worry…I’m sure we’ll be able to deal with it, whatever it is.” 

She reached out a trembling hand to caress Spike’s face…only to sob in loss as he disappeared from the room. 

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