"I don't know, ask Dennis," Cordelia called back.

Wesley cleared his throat. "Oh, I say, er, Dennis?"

One of the cabinet doors opened and a stack of napkins floated over to Wesley. "Th-thank you," Wesley said. "Will you be, ah, joining us for dinner?"

A clean plate from the dish drainer floated over to the table and into position at an empty seat. "My guess is that's a yes," Wesley said.

"Ugh, I swear Angel, if you don't start paying me better, you're going to have to get a new wire to the PTB," Cordelia complained as she entered her kitchen. She waved a slip of paper in the air. "Do you know how much the dry cleaner charged to get that icky fuchia stuff out? Do-"

She stopped and frowned. "Where's Angel?"

"I think he is in the living room," Wesley replied.

"And that was a really great rant, too," Cordelia grumbled. "I might have squeezed a few more pennies out of Mr. Scrooge from it."

"Perhaps you can rant again at dinner," Wesley suggested.

Cordelia sighed. "It's not as good the second time around. I'm an actress. I need to feel my part." She looked towards the living room and spotted Angel crouched in front of the fireplace, staring at the flickering flames. "Oh wonderful, he's 'deep thoughts vampire' again."

"I often wonder what it is that he thinks about," Wesley said, putting down the last of the silverware on the table. "Imagine having lived for two and a half centuries! Why, the things he has seen first hand, the people he could have met..."

"And slaughtered," Cordelia added. She shook her head. "He's probably thinking about Hell again, what with the whole staring into flames thing he's doing."

Buffy rose above him like a goddess, the firelight bathing her lithe, nude form. Her soft body was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, making her shine in a soft glow. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her blond hair cascading down behind her. Her breaths were coming in short gasps each time she thrust down onto his shaft, her beautiful breasts rising and falling with each one.

Her hot, wet core grasped at his cock as he slid in and out of her, her small body welcoming his large girth without hesitation. Her velvety softness surrounded him, pulled on him, stroked him into a frenzied state. Her fingers curled into the skin on his chest, scratching him, drawing blood, exciting him more.

She licked her lips, her pink tongue darting out to moisten the pouty surface, bruised and swollen from heady kisses. She moaned softly, the sound traveling from his ears straight to his loins. Her inner walls began to flutter around his thick member and his hands slid up her muscular thighs towards the mound of dark curls at the apex.

Another pale hand with strong fingers slid around her waist, delving into her feminine nest before his own fingers found his goal. A second hand moved up under her arm to cup her breast, the chipped-black-polished fingers pinching the taut bud of her nipple. Over her shoulder, hungry blue eyes met his before the intimately familiar face lowered and pale, pink lips kissed along the side of her neck.

Angel snapped out of his daydream with a visible start. The fire in the fireplace crackled before him and Cordelia's and Wesley's voices drifted to him from the kitchen, drawing him back to reality. Beneath the material of his pants, his cock was ten inches of solid steel, hard and throbbing and very uncomfortable.

The dark-haired vampire straightened and tried to adjust himself without attracting attention from his friends. His face twisted in a grimace as he thought about what just occurred. He didn't know which was worse: having such an intimate daydream while at a small dinner party, or having his daydream end so abruptly because of Spike's surprise appearance in it.

Angel cursed quietly and untucked his shirt, using it to cover the extremely obvious problem he had. It didn't do a very good job, causing him to curse some more. He tried to picture Xander -- his own personal erection dissipater -- but that only served to excite him more as a vivid image of the annoying nineteen-year-old hog-tied to a table and him with a barbed whip popped into his mind.

"Angel, are you going to join us or what?" Cordelia called to him from the kitchen. "I didn't slave over a hot stove all day just to clear my pores." A chair thumped twice and the brunette added, "And neither did Dennis."

Angel put one hand over the other in front of his crotch and hoped none of his friends noticed his raging hard on as he walked stiffly to the kitchen. He was supposed to be the cool, calm, controlled one, not the horny pervert having explicit fantasies in the middle of Cordelia's living room.

"It smells good," he lied, quickly moving to stand behind the solid-backed chair. He looked at the open dish on the table and frowned. He had no clue what it was supposed to be. "Lasagna?"

"It's baked salmon." Cordelia glared at him.

Angel gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry. I don't eat, remember?"

"That's just an excuse," Cordelia said.

"A lucky one, at that," Wesley mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that." Cordelia turned her glare on Wesley. "If you don't like my cooking, why don't you make your own daaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaahhh!"

Wesley caught Cordelia as the brunette grasped her head and staggered. Angel hurried to her side, taking her hand. She squeezed it hard, but he knew it barely compared to the pain in her head.

"Cordelia?" Angel questioned softly.

Cordelia opened her eyes and looked at the vampire with a frown. "Do we have a policy that says you have to help everyone that's in these vision thingys?"

"Why?" Angel asked.

"Because I just saw Spike," Cordelia replied. She took the ice pack that floated to her. "Thanks, Dennis." She gave the air a small smile where she thought the ghost was standing, then slapped the ice pack on her forehead.

"Spike?" Wesley said.

"Angel's spawn," Cordelia told Wesley. "You probably read about him in your nerdy Watcher studies. Hung out with a skanky chick named Drusilla, another one of Angel's bad seeds. Spike tried to kill us a bunch of times, and shish-ka-bob'd Angel trying to get back the Gem of Amara."

"Ah, right," Wesley said. He frowned. "Isn't it a bit unusual-"

"What exactly did you see, Cordelia?" Angel interrupted, shaking out of his stupor at who the Powers That Be wanted him to help -- as well as the eerily odd fact that he'd just had a daydream including the blond vampire.

"I saw Spike," Cordelia replied. "Bleached hair, same clothes, annoying sneer...great cheekbones though. If he wasn't an undead fiend and had a better sense of style, I know lots of girls who'd go for him."

"Where?" Angel asked.

"In Alaska," Cordelia said. "Or in one of those cold Canadian countries where the women are desperate because they look like mooses."

"Moose," Wesley corrected. "The plural of 'moose' is 'moose.'"

Cordelia frowned at him. "But that's the same word."

"Hello? Can we try and stay on topic here?" Angel said impatiently.

"What got into your blood bag?" Cordelia snipped at Angel.

"Cordelia. Where. Was. Spike?" Angel asked through clenched teeth.

Cordelia looked at the dark-haired vampire for a moment, then answered. "He was in Sunnydale."

Pain flashed across Angel's eyes, followed immediately by anger. "Wesley, you're in charge at the office. Cordelia, get your coat, you're coming with me."

"Wait, what?" Cordelia went after Angel as the vampire strode out of the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"Back to Sunnydale."

"I'll, um, lock up for you, Cordelia," Wesley called after her. The chair near him was pushed back under the table by a ghostly hand. "And Dennis shall help."

"Angel, slow down!" Cordelia snapped at the dark-haired vampire. "I know you're all hell-bent on finding Spike, but speed walking does nothing for my thighs!"

"You should have stayed in the car," Angel told her, but he shortened his stride to match hers.

"And let you be out here alone in Sunnydale?" Cordelia scoffed. "Fat chance."

"I think I can handle myself on the Hellmouth against anything that creeps up," Angel said.

"Could you handle seeing Buffy again?"

A pain seared through Angel's heart. He dropped his eyes to the ground in front of him as they continued to walk.

"I thought not," Cordelia said softly. She reached out and gently squeezed his arm.

Angel glanced over at her and gave her a strained smile. Then he took a purposeful breath and raised his head again. "Where are we supposed to find that idiot Childe of mine?"

"Somewhere in this cemetery," Cordelia answered with a shrug. "Of course, he may not be here. Those visions don't come with a date and time stamp."

Angel stopped walking abruptly. Cordelia gave him a confused look, and when she went to speak, he held up his hand. Her mouth closed quickly and she scanned the darkness. "What do you hear?" she whispered.

"Voices," Angel replied, heading straight for a clump of trees in front of them. He silently slipped in between the trees, treading closer to the voices he'd heard. Cordelia's footfalls were soft behind him, and he knew that she would watch his back, even if he didn't need it watched.

"Buffy would be very ticked off at you if you did it, mate," Angel heard as they came upon a small pathway that lead through the trees.

"Spike," Cordelia whispered from slightly behind him. Angel nodded, his teeth clenched together at the sound of Buffy's name on Spike's lips.

"She probably doesn't know you're a HST," another male voice said. "And if she did, she'd stake you on sight."

Angel cautiously followed the pathway towards the two voices.

"She's known me for almost two and a half years and she hasn't staked me yet. Kissed me, yes. Staked, no."

"Now I know you're lying. Buffy would never kiss a vampire."

Angel heard Spike's laughter before his bleached-blond head came into view. He was backed up near a tree, holding his hands in the air in a surrender position. "You mean to tell me that the Slayer's never told you about Peaches?"

Angel circled around Spike, staying hidden and silent in the trees, his eyes searching for the other person. When he did, his actions were instantaneous. He swooped out of the woods, ripping the gun from the tall, camouflaged man's hands and butting the guy in the face with it. The guy went down and Angel flipped the gun around to aim it at the man. The dark-haired vampire looked behind him at Spike with a glare.

"Angel, old chap, we were just talking 'bout you," Spike said jovially, lowering his arms.

"Keep them up," Angel said in a deadly tone. Cordelia came out of the trees beside him and he relinquished the gun to her.

"And Cordelia," Spike said, his arms back in the air. "Is there a Scooby Gang reunion that I wasn't informed about?"

"No, Spike, I work for an agency that helps the hopeless," Cordelia said sweetly. "And you fit quite nicely into that category."

She shifted her attention back to the guy on the ground, who had started to move. "Huh-uh, buddy. You're staying put until Angel says so."

Angel focused solely on Spike as he approached the blond. Spike grinned mockingly up at him when he stopped a foot away. "Hello, Peaches," Spike said. "How's the Slayer? Oh yeah, that's right, you wouldn't know."

"I want to know what you're doing here in Sunnydale," Angel said, ignoring the jibe.

"I live here," Spike replied. A wicked smile crossed his face. "And I'm shagging Buffy every chaaagh-"

Angel grabbed Spike by the throat and lifted the younger vampire up off the ground, using the tree for support. "Don't you ever talk about Buffy in that way," Angel growled.

"It's not like she's been faithful to you," Spike gasped out.

"I'm not in a good mood, Spike. You interrupted me in the middle of a very pleasant fantasy." Angel's dark gaze didn't leave Spike's as his other hand began to unstrap the blond's belt. Once it was unbuckled, he leaned closer to the wary-eyed younger vampire and said in a deceptively soft voice, "Tell me why you're really here and I promise I'll make it hurt only a little."

"Angel!"

Angel turned his head at the shout of his name from Cordelia, and he saw that the camouflaged man had the gun again and was leveling it at him and Spike. Cordelia was being held captive by a second camouflaged person.

"Let her go," Angel demanded, dropping Spike.

"Step away from him," the gun-wielding guy ordered.

Angel glanced at Cordelia and nodded imperceptively. They both struck at the same time. Angel bent his knees and launched himself up into the air, doing a high flip out of the path of the gun. He heard Spike cry out slightly as something was shot from the gun. With a mental curse, he landed lightly on his feet, spun, and kicked the gun out of the guy's hands.

Cordelia rammed her heel back into her captor's leg, then released her weight to drop out of his arms to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, caught a glimpse of Spike immobile on the ground, and took a swing at the ski-mask covered face. She may not like Spike, but her vision said they were suppose to help him, so help he would get.

The dark-haired vampire ducked under the kick aimed at his head. He darted in and smashed his fist in his opponent's face. The guy flew back several feet with the impact, hitting the ground hard.

Spinning, Angel saw Cordelia trying to beat off the second man and failing. The fatigue-clad man shoved the brunette away forcefully when he saw Angel coming after him, bringing his gun around. The dark-haired vampire grabbed the barrel and shoved hard, smacking the guy in the jaw with the butt of the gun.

The man released his hold on the weapon abruptly and punched Angel, who's head flung to the side at the hit; but the vampire did not relinquish his hold on the barrel of the gun as it started to fall. He used its momentum to swing it up and around like a baton, smashing it down on the juncture of his opponent's shoulder and neck.

The camouflaged man dropped to his knees with the blow. Angel grabbed the back of the man's masked head with his free hand and bashed the man's covered face into his knee. The dark-haired vampire then shoved the guy backwards roughly and handed Cordelia the gun. "Watch him," he ordered.

"And it worked so well the last time you had me to do this," Cordelia muttered, aiming the weapon at the downed man.

Angel turned and saw that his Childe was on the ground, twitching slightly, what looked to be two little bolts sticking out of his chest. "Damn," he swore softly, heading quickly over to Spike, keeping his guard up. He dropped down to one knee beside the blond vampire and examined the bolts. They looked to be electrified.

"Go...run...now."

Angel frowned down at Spike. "What?" he asked. Then he saw the stark fear and anger reflected in the younger vampire's blue eyes. "Spike, what is it?"

"Run...you...pil...lock," Spike got out with barely any air.

"I'm not leaving you here for them to finish you off," Angel said, grabbing a stick on the ground beside them. He looped it around one of the wires and yanked a bolt out of Spike's chest. "I want to save that pleasure for myself."

"Stu...pid...poof," Spike muttered.

Angel got the second bolt out without touching it. "Let's get you out of here before those guys gather their wits." He scooped the blond vampire up in a fireman's carry and glanced back at Cordelia. "Let's go."

Cordelia nodded and backed away from the camouflaged man on the ground, keeping the gun leveled at him. When she hit the tree line, she turned and jogged after the rapidly leaving vampire.

"Next time you feel like playing marathon runner, tell me to wear better shoes," Cordelia told Angel when they arrived at the car several quick-paced minutes later.

Angel dumped Spike unceremoniously into the open back-seat of the convertible as the brunette rounded the car to get in the passenger side. He frowned at the gun when she tossed it onto the back floor before she got in the vehicle. "Since when do humans run around in camouflage with guns electrifying vampires?"

"Maybe Buffy and company have hired some outside help," Cordelia suggested as Angel got in the car. "The guy talking to Spike seemed to know her."

"There's only one way to find out," Angel said as he started the engine.

"Wonderful," Cordelia said with a sigh. "Look out angst, here comes Angel."

"So we're going to leave Spike in the car?" Cordelia asked ten minutes later. "What if someone comes along and steals him? One vampire rescue a night is my limit."

"What do you think I should do with him then?" Angel said.

"I don't know," Cordelia said. "Prop him up outside Giles's door or something."

Angel sighed and dragged the paralyzed vampire out of the backseat of the convertible. He ignored the growl Spike emitted. He used the car as a prop in order to hoist the blond over his shoulder, then smacked Spike on the ass before following Cordelia.

"We should have called," Angel commented more to himself than to his brunette friend, apprehension coming over him the closer they got to Giles's front door.

"We would have if you hadn't acted like the world was ending after my vision," Cordelia told him. She shook her head in confusion. "I still don't know why the PTB would give me a migraine so we could help Spike. Do you think they make mistakes?"

"I doubt it," Angel replied. They stopped in front of Giles's door and the dark-haired vampire stared at it in trepidation. He wanted to turn around, go home and beat off in the shower while picturing Buffy naked and writhing above him again. He did not want to be in Sunnydale rescuing one of his Childer from guys in camouflage with electrifying guns.

"Are you going to knock or burn a hole through the door with your eyes?" Cordelia asked in annoyance. She made a noise of disgust and knocked herself. "It's only Giles. Tweed isn't scary...well, actually..."

The door opened as Cordelia trailed off. The brunette frowned at the person who answered the knock. "What are you doing here?"

"Who is it, Anya?" Giles asked from out of sight, his voice traveling past the short-haired, ex-demon.

"That Angel person, Cordelia and someone's ass," Anya replied. "By the tightness of the black jeans over a pair of perfectly sculpted cheeks, I'd say it was Spike's ass."

Anya left the door open and walked away from the door as Giles came into view. Cordelia didn't stand on ceremony and entered Giles's home without an invitation. "How do you know what Spike's butt looks like?"

"I was bored and Spike was sleeping on the floor on his stomach," Anya replied. "Plus, he was moving up and down and rubbing himself on the floor like he was having sex with someone. It was quite entertaining."

Giles looked out the open door at Angel with a questioning lift of his brow. "Do you plan on standing out there until dawn?"

"Is it alright if I leave Spike outside your door?" Angel asked in reply. "He was shot by some soldier-types with a stun gun of sorts-"

"Idiot. I warned him this would happen," Giles interrupted. He shook his head and sighed. "Go ahead and put him on the couch. I estimate it will take several hours for the paralysis to wear off."

Angel didn't move, an expectant expression on his face. When Giles didn't speak, he said, "Spike needs to be invited in."

"What?" Giles said. "Oh, no, he doesn't." He furrowed his brows thoughtfully. "Although, I should probably start thinking about rescinding the invitation now that Spike's living on his own again."

The dark-haired vampire stepped easily into the ex-Watcher's home, a perplexed look on his face. "Again?"

"Again?" Cordelia echoed.

"Giles, make sure you do it to Xander's house, too," Anya spoke up from her seat on the chair beside the couch. "I thought we would never get rid of Spike to begin with. I don't want that annoying vampire to show up while Xander and I are copulating anymore. It makes Xander all limp and unhappy, and then I don't get to have any orgasms."

Cordelia and Angel both stared at Anya, dumbfounded.

"Yes, well, er, I-I shall look into it, Anya," Giles said. He returned his gaze to Angel, a sardonic smirk crossing his lips. "You can put Spike down anytime you'd like."

"Right," Angel said, moving to the couch. He dropped the blond vampires onto it and earned another growl by the ungentle action. Angel gave his Childe a cold glare in return.

"I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?" Giles asked Angel. "Did your friend have another vision?"

"In Dolby Digital," Cordelia said.

"Cordelia has the visions now," Angel said in a strained voice. He cleared his throat and continued. "She had one earlier about Spike-"

"And I still don't see why we had to help him," Cordelia interrupted, giving the prone blond vampire a dirty look. "Okay, so he's hopeless in the fashion department and that hair is so eighties; but Spike doesn't strike me as being a damsel in distress. We're suppose to help those in real danger and are helpless to get out of it on their own and can pay us our fee."

"You mean you don't know?" Giles said, then shook his head. "Of course you wouldn't, how silly of me."

"Know what?" Angel said.

"Spike has been, er, fixed," Giles replied. "He can no longer harm the living."

Angel blinked in surprise, his gaze dropping back to Spike. "How did this happen?"

"The Initiative," Anya answered. She shivered and rubbed her arms. "I don't like them."

"Those soldiers that you rescued Spike from were more than likely members of this-this Initiative," Giles said. "We only have sketchy information as to who they are and what they do. Mostly from Spike himself and-and, ah, Buffy."

Angel forced himself to ignore the normal ache in his heart whenever Buffy's name was spoken. "Tell me," he instructed with no emotion in his voice, his eyes not leaving the paralyzed younger vampire.

"Right, well, on the outside, the Initiative seems to be a sort of...commando slaying team," Giles said. "From what I've been able to piece together, they either kill or capture demons and their ilk. What they do with the ones they capture is unknown, other than making vampires into harmless creatures."

"Spike hates it," Anya interjected. "All he does is whine and complain about how unfair it is. Then, he goes on and on about how he's still evil and hates us. I'm just glad he decided to move out of Xander's basement. He was continually spoiling the mood."

"Spike was living in Xander's basement?" Cordelia asked incredulously. "Why?"

"Because Giles's orgasm friend came for a visit and he made Xander take Spike," Anya replied.

Angel lifted his head an arched a brow at the ex-Watcher. "Orgasm friend?"

"Olivia is a-a-a, er, friend of mine, yes," Giles said, shooting Anya a quick glare. "When Spike came to us for help at Thanksgiving, I took him in until she came for a visit."

"Where is he living now?" Angel asked, hiding his smile at Giles's expense.

"In a rather...dismal would be an appropriate descriptive...crypt at Shady Hill Cemetery," Giles replied.

"That's where we found him and those guys in that tacky camouflage," Cordelia said.

"You said that Spike escaped from them once before?" Angel said to Giles. Giles nodded.

"So that explains why we had to rescue the mortally-impaired doof," Cordelia said. "They were probably pretty ticked that Spike escaped and want him back."

"And from what Rupert says, he can't fight back," Angel said, raising his hand to his lips in an unconscious gesture as he thought. Spike was incapacitated in a way that made him mostly harmless and he was threatened in a way that he was helpless against, which explained why Cordelia would receive a vision involving him. The question was: how were they going to remove the threat?

"Cordelia," Angel addressed his friend and secretary. "Call Wesley and tell him-"

"-To find out anything he can on this Initiative while you ask around town. I'm on it," Cordelia finished, reaching into her pocket for her cellphone.

"While I'm gone-" Angel began again.

"-Pick Giles's brains, wait for Spike to start moving again and call you if something important goes down," Cordelia completed as she dialed. "I know the drill, Angel, so go away."

Angel nodded and moved towards the door. "I'll return for both of them as soon as I can," he said to Giles. He paused with his hand on the door handle and swallowed before continuing. "If you see Buffy, please let her know that I'm here."

"I will," Giles said.

Angel nodded once and opened the door to find Xander on the other side, a medium box in his hands. Xander started in surprise, then gave the vampire an angry look. "Angel, what are you doing here? Did you come to stomp on Buffy's heart and leave her in a blue funk for days again?"

Angel stepped quickly aside as Xander went to shove past him. "This is everything, Giles," the brunette teen said. "The Commandos picked Ethan's room pretty clean. I found a few shirts, a bag of rocks and a leather journal with spells in it hidden inside a pillow."

"Xander, you came into the room and did not immediately kiss me hello," Anya said, rising from her seat.

"I'll make it up to you later," Xander told her, setting the box down on the desk behind the couch. He frowned. "What happened to Spike?"

"...How the hell am I supposed to know what kind of gun it was, Wesley? Do I look like Cagney or Lacey to you?" Cordelia was saying as she returned to the living room. "It shot two bolt-like things out of it with wires attached and made Spike do his imitation of a board." She looked up, saw Xander, ignored him, saw Angel and scowled. "Angel, why aren't you gone? Wait, I'll come with you to your car and get this gun so I can describe it to suck-up here."

As Cordelia walked past him out the door, Angel gave Giles a wry half-smile, then followed her back into the night.

"Well?" Cordelia inquired when Angel re-entered the ex-Watcher's home a few hours later.

Angel shook his head. "I couldn't get anything concrete," he said. "The only rumor vaguely related is about demons disappearing suddenly and never being seen from again."

"Couldn't that be Buffy though?" Cordelia said.

"No, these are good, harmless demons," Angel said. He glanced around at the very empty living room. "Where is everyone?"

"Xander and Anya went away, thank god, Giles is in the bathroom and Spike's playing opossum on the couch," she replied. "He started moving about twenty minutes ago, but thinks he can fool me."

Angel walked over and flicked Spike's ear before he sat down on the edge of the coffee table. "Spike, sit up," he ordered.

"What if I don't want to?" Spike asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

The dark-haired vampire reached forward, hooked his first to fingers in Spike's nostrils and pulled. Spike quickly sat up with a growl, shoving Angel's hand away. "Shove off, pillock."

Angel studied his Childe critically as the younger man scowled back at him. He was a bit thinner than normal and there was a trace of something akin to fear hidden in the angrily glaring blue eyes, Angel thought. But on the whole, Spike looked okay.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like dancing through a field of poppies," Spike answered caustically.

"Still Mr. Congeniality, I see," Cordelia commented.

"Still a bitch, I see," Spike retorted.

Cordelia scoffed. "That's so original. What's next? 'You're rubber, I'm glue?'"

"Cordelia," Angel said in a soft, but firm tone. Cordelia rolled her eyes, her way of indicating she'd keep quiet. He refocused his attention purely on Spike. "Tell me what they did to you."

"Why should I? It's not like you're going to fix me," Spike said, folding his arms over his chest.

"I can't help you if I don't know what happened," Angel said.

Spike laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, right. You, help me. Tell me another one. This is probably a wet dream come true for you, soulboy. Instead of a quick stake to the heart, I get to suffer for who knows how bloody long not being able to kill any humans."

Angel sat silently, looking directly at his Childe, patiently waiting for Spike to continue.

"Oh bugger all," Spike said. "Fine, you want to know? They did something...," he tapped his temple, "...up here. Don't know what. Every time I go to have a bite, or hit one of the Mouseketeers, or even bump into some mortal bloke hard, my head feels like someone shoved a hot poker in my brain."

"Karma," Cordelia said bluntly, examining her nails.

Spike shot her a glare, but Angel ignored her. "Anything else?" the dark-haired vampire asked.

"Isn't that enough?" Spike said angrily.

"Ah, Angel, you've returned," Giles said as he walked into the living room. "Any luck?"

"No," Angel replied, rising to his feet. "The only thing I've found out is that demons -- even good ones -- are disappearing left and right, especially around the college campus."

"That would make sense," Giles said, removing his glasses and a handkerchief from his pocket. "From the sightings of the-the commandos, and from where Spike said he was captured and subsequently escaped, I'm leaning towards their headquarters being located underneath the college itself."

"I'll see what I can find out tomorrow," Angel said. He looked down at the blond vampire then returned his gaze to Giles. "Do you mind if I use your washroom?"

Giles's brow furrowed but he nodded. "Be my guest."

"Come on, Spike," Angel ordered.

"'Come on Spike' what?" Spike said.

"I want to see if what's causing your headaches is something physical or not," he said before starting towards the bathroom. Angel knew Spike would follow him just to continue arguing.

"And, out of the goodness of your soul, you're going to fix me?" Spike said, entering the bathroom almost on Angel's heels. "Now, why don't I see that happening?"

Angel hid his smirk at his Childe's predictable behavior. He shut the door behind Spike and hit the lock before answering. "Cordelia receives visions of who I'm supposed to help, but it's up to me to figure out how. I'm going to eliminate the possibility that helping you is as simple as removing some sort of device under the surface of your skin."

"Right. Of course, if it is, you're going to remove it and just let me toddle off to kill again." Spike snorted. "I'm not that gullible, mate."

"If it is, and I can remove it, I'll give you half-an-hour to get out of Sunnydale. If you leave the state and never return, you won't ever have to worry about my coming after you. I give you my word," Angel said.

Spike studied him a moment. "You're word, eh?"

Angel nodded. There was no reason for him not to let Spike go. He'd recently freed a bunch of demons from a sick game because it had been the right thing to do, and, if it was a simple as removing something from Spike's body, his job would be done and he could get the hell out of Sunnydale before he accidentally ran into Buffy.

"Okay," Spike said, wariness evident in his voice. "But know this: I can still hurt other demons."

Angel smirked. "I'm shaking. Really."

Spike scowled at him. "Very funny, mate."

"I thought so," Angel said. "Now strip."

"Strip?"

"It means to take off all your clothes, Spike," Angel said, his smirk growing.

"I know what the bloody fuck it means, you toff," Spike growled.

"Well?" Angel prompted, gesturing for Spike to get on with it.

"I'm not taking off my clothes," Spike said.

"Spike, if you don't take off your clothes, I can't check you over," Angel said as if he was talking to a toddler.

"I'm doing this under extreme protest," Spike grumbled as he removed his duster.

"And here I was hoping you'd jump at the chance to be naked for me again," Angel commented, moving over to the medicine cabinet above the sink. He opened the door, found the small jar of Vaseline that he'd hoped to find, took it out and dropped it in his jacket pocket before he shut the door. Angel would be damned again if he had to perform this examination more than once, so he was going to be completely thorough.

When Angel turned back around, a fully nude Spike was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, looking like a sullen teenager. Angel rolled his eyes and walked over to the other vampire. He grabbed either side of Spike's head and pulled it down slightly.

"Hey, watch it, mate," Spike snapped at him.

"Shush," Angel told him as he carefully ran his fingers through Spike's peroxide hair and over his Childe's scalp, searching for any unusual lumps.

"You should change your name from Angel to Ape-man," Spike muttered.

Angel shook his head in amusement as he continued his search. He moved from Spike's head to the younger man's neck, rubbing his fingers up and down over Spike's skin. Angel checked the blond's ears and then his face, ignoring the unhappy glare his Childe was giving him.

"Tell me about this person who stunned you," Angel instructed as he moved onto Spike's upper chest, shoulders and arms. "You two seemed to know each other."

Spike smirked. "That was Riley. Buffy's new shag-toy."

Angel was proud of himself. He didn't flinch or make any indication that he felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. "Go on," he prompted.

"Well, I know he's one of those commando pricks," Spike said. "And he makes this grunting noise as he sticking it to-"

Angel growled over the end of Spike's sentence, the clear sound of a warning reverberating in the small bathroom.

"Oh, does Angel not want to hear the truth about his slut of a Slaaggh-"

The dark-haired vampire abruptly grabbed Spike by the back of the neck, spun and used his entire weight to smash the younger man's head down upon the edge of the bathtub. Angel heard the satisfactory crack of Spike's forehead on the porcelain, but it was not enough to punish his Childe for his blatant insolence both recently and over the past few years. It was beyond time for Angel to put Spike back into his place.

"You know, I don't think I've ever properly repaid you for having me tortured," Angel said. In one fluid motion, he yanked Spike back up and rammed the blond against the door. With his free hand, Angel pulled a stake out of his jacket pocket. "Allow me to rectify that."

Angel raised his arm back and slammed the stake through Spike's left hand and into the wood of the door. Spike howled out in pain and struggled against him. Angel shifted and stepped closer to Spike, stepping between the blond's legs to prevent him from kicking back. The dark-haired vampire released Spike's neck only to grab his Childe's other arm by the wrist and slam a second stake through the his right hand.

The older vampire snagged Spike's hair and yanked the blond's head back. "You've pissed me off for the last time, Childe," Angel snarled softly in Spike's ear.

The dark-haired vampire slid his other hand around Spike's body to the younger man's genitals. Angel's fingers encircled Spike's flaccid shaft and began to expertly stroke the soft flesh into marble hardness. Spike growled at him, but was unable to do much else.

Once his Childe was fully erect, Angel released him with both hands but didn't move away. Quickly, Angel pushed his own pants down to his thighs, then removed the jar of Vaseline from his jacket pocket. As much as Spike deserved to be fucked dry, that type of punishment would only serve to make the younger vampire angrier, rather than putting him back in his place.

Angel slathered his cock with the petroleum jelly and tossed the jar into the sink. Closing his eyes, he grasped his slick member and pulled up the memory of taking Buffy on his kitchen table all those months ago. He hardened instantly.

Angel opened his eyes and focused on the perfect, pale ass directly in front of him. With an evil curl to his lips, Angel spread the muscular globes to expose the puckered rosette, chuckling maliciously when Spike snarled at him and tried to pull forward away from him.

"Now, now, Spike," Angel tisked as he positioned himself. "I know how much you really want this."

Angel grabbed Spike's hips and thrust fully past the younger vampire's ringed entry. Spike ceased making any sounds and Angel knew he was trying to play defiant. The older man also knew Spike wouldn't be acting that way for long.

The dark-haired vampire began to move in and out of Spike, setting a slow, steady pace. Angel reached around the younger man's body once again and laughed cruelly when he found Spike was still rock hard. "You always did love taking it up the ass," he commented as he wrapped his lubricant-slicked hand around Spike's shaft.

"Bite me," Spike growled venomously.

"Oh, I plan on it," Angel said, his voice deceptively soft. He reached up with his other hand and ensnared Spike's hair again, pulling his Childe's head to the side. "It's time for you to remember who you belong to, Spike."

Angel's face morphed into its true features and he sank his fangs into Spike's jugular, causing the younger vampire to let out a plaintive snarl. Angel dropped his hand back to Spike's hip and continued fucking him. As he slowly drank his Childe's blood, Angel started to caress Spike's hard length with measured strokes.

The eroticism of the picture the two vampires created would have made the most unflappable demon flush with arousal. Spike was staked naked to the door like a sacrificial victim, his dark blood running down the backs of his hands, wrists and forearms. His head was tilted to one side, more blood trailing down from his neck, his face twisted in pleasure and pain. The dark-haired vampire was still clothed and pressed dominantly against the younger man's back, almost surrounding him. Angel's fangs were deep in Spike's neck and his hand was stroking Spike's turgid shaft in rhythm with each thrust of his cock in and out of his Childe's tight passage.

Spike began to pant and move his hips against Angel, and the older vampire knew the blond was about to orgasm. Angel pumped Spike's cock twice more before he tightly squeezed the steely length at the base. Spike whimpered as his climax was prevented and the sound caused Angel to crest the edge of his own orgasm.

Angel gripped Spike's hip hard and wildly thrust into the younger man as the burning pressure came to a breaking point. He drank from Spike heavily now, and the coppery blood rushed down his throat as he pounded into Spike, making his demon howl in pleasure. His orgasm came with a vicious intensity that tore a snarl from his throat as he shot his cold seed deep inside Spike's channel.

Angel felt Spike sag back against him from the loss of blood and he immediately began to stroke the younger vampire's cock again.

"No," Spike rasped. "Oh hell, don't. Please don't."

Angel sucked down hard on the side of Spike's neck in response, eliciting an animalistic cry from his Childe. The dark-haired vampire felt Spike's body start to tremble uncontrollably and he heard the wood groan as Spike's weight pulled heavily at the stakes pinning his hands to the door.

"Fuck, Sire, I know my place," Spike croaked in a hoarse voice, the words almost running together in his haste to get them out. "I know it and accept it, just please don't, Sire. Don't do this to me."

Angel ripped his fangs from Spike's neck and whispered gutturally, "Too late."

Then, he plunged his sharp teeth brutally back into the younger vampire's jugular at the same time his hand brought Spike to orgasm.

Spike let out an airless scream as his entire body shuddered violently and Angel snarled in satisfaction. He knew the younger vampire felt like he was being ripped in two as the orgasm slammed through his almost-drained body. Angel knew because the dark-haired vampire had learned this technique first-hand from his grandsire -- the Master, himself -- and he'd also learned his place very quickly so as not to receive a repeat lesson.

Angel had done this once before to Spike and, for months afterwards, the moment Angel had walked into a room occupied by him, the younger vampire would offer himself immediately to his Sire. It had been a disgustingly satisfactory way to dominate his Childe.

Spike slumped abruptly in Angel's partial embrace as the blond dropped into unconsciousness. Angel held the younger man up only long enough to free himself completely, then he let Spike fall unceremoniously to the floor, his Childe's dead weight causing the stakes to rip free from his hands.

Angel looked down at Spike with a pleased curve to his lips as he tucked himself away. The deep bite mark in Spike's neck caused Angel's demon to crow with malicious glee and it made a dark part of his conscious smile as well.

He walked over to the sink and washed his hands after putting the jar of Vaseline away. Then he set about cleaning up the bathroom and his Childe, utilizing the opportunity to thoroughly examine Spike for signs of anything physically implanted beneath the blond's skin.

When Angel was finished, he redressed Spike, being careful of the thick bandages he'd wrapped around the younger vampire's damaged hands, and propped him up against the wall beside the sink. "Bet you didn't know your old man still had it in him," Angel commented to the unconscious man.

He stood and, after a final glance around, exited the bathroom.

Cordelia had an amused smile on her face when Angel joined her and Giles back in the living room. "Have fun?" she asked him.

Angel shrugged, suppressing a smile. "Some."

"Er, you didn't stake him, did you?" Giles asked.

Angel couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up from inside him and escaped. Cordelia arched a dark brow and Giles just looked at him in confusion, adding to his mirth.

"Well, he's not dust," he answered after he smothered his laughter.

"Um, eew," Cordelia said, holding up her hand. "I so didn't need to hear that subtext." Angel waggled his brows at her and she scowled in return. "Can we get back to work before my therapy bill totally skyrockets because of you and your icky vampireness? It's bad enough as it is because of Doyle's dumb sacrifice and having to work with Wesley everyday."

"Am I paying for this therapy?" Angel asked.

"Of course," Cordelia said. "It's part of the new benefits package you instituted a couple months ago."

"New benefits package?"

Cordelia gave Angel a brilliant smile. "Yeah, it was really nice of you to provide it, too. It includes-"

Angel raised his hand to ward off her explanation. "I don't want to know. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

"I'd be happier with a raise," Cordelia hinted.

"Sure, you can have a raise," Angel said. He smirked. "We'll just take it out of your benefits money."

"The raise can wait," she told him.

"Glad to hear it," Angel said. "Now, back to that work you mentioned before. Did Wesley call?"

"Yes," Cordelia replied. She picked up the small notepad that was sitting on the table beside her and read from it. "After you left, I picked Giles's brain and got a name for you: Professor Maggie Walsh. She works at the college and is somehow a part of this Initiative group. I got in touch with the brown-noser and he dug into her background for us. She has Doctorates in both psychology and physiology, wrote lots of papers on behavior modification and, get this, the most recent one she wrote was sub-titled: 'Behavior Modification of Predatory Species Using Electro-Neurological Stimuli.'"

"What a coincidence," Angel said wryly.

"I thought so, too," Cordelia said. "Wesley told me he'd email us the article summaries if we can get to a computer."

"I don't know if we'll need them yet or not," Angel said. "I think I should go to this Professor's office and see what I can find first. Let me go get Spike and then I'll drop you and him off at the mansion before I head over to the college."

"Why do I always get stuck with babysitting duty?" Cordelia complained.

Before Angel could answer, there was a knock at the door a moment before it opened. "Giles, it's Willow," Willow called as she entered. "I have that book you wanted..." She spotted Angel and she gasped in shock. "Angel!"

Angel smiled at the hacker. "Hello, Willow."

"What are you doing here? Is Buffy in danger? Does she know you're here? She doesn't, does she, because if she did, she would have told me and she didn't tell me, so she doesn't know that you're here. You are going to tell her you're here, right? Because if you don't tell her, I will and then she'll be all mad that I was the one to tell her and not you-"

"Oh, please, can't you speak without babbling like a teeny-bopper?" Cordelia interrupted the redhead. "It's annoying."

"Cordelia," Angel said softly in reprimand. Cordelia rolled her eyes and began to doodle on her notepad. The vampire turned his attention to Willow. "To answer one of your questions: no I haven't told her I'm here, but it's not a secret. If you see her before I do, feel free to tell her."

"Is Buffy in danger again?" Willow asked. "Should I call in the cavalry for a research party?"

"Actually, it's Spike that they're here for," Giles said.

"Spike?" Willow said incredulously. "The vampire Spike?"

"You know of another Spike?" Cordelia said. Then she put her hand to her mouth and spoke around her fingers. "Oh my god, I sound like Wesley!"

Angel laughed, causing Willow to gape at him. "You-you're laughing!"

"It's usually what one does when highly amused," Angel said dryly. Then, he groaned. "Great, now I sound like Wesley."

"I think I deserve hazard pay," Cordelia said. "Working with Wesley is a danger to my vocabulary."

"I'll keep it in mind," Angel said. He glanced at the clock on the mantle. "We'd better get going if I'm going to investigate Professor Walsh's office before sunrise."

"Her office is located in Langerstrom Hall," Giles supplied. "Room 109."

"Thanks," Angel said. He turned to Willow. "Willow, do you think you can show me where it's at?"

"Sure," Willow agreed enthusiastically. "Are we breaking-and-entering?"

Angel gave her a half-smile. "Are you up for it?"

"Oh, I'm way up for that," Willow replied. "It's one of my specialties. I'm a one-woman B-and-E team... although, with a team, you usually have more than one person... and I usually go with Buffy or Xander when we snoop around somewhere, so technically I'm not alone..."

"Well?"

"Oh my god." Cordelia stared at Angel in stunned disbelief. "Angel, what in the world did you do to yourself?"

Angel glanced down at his too-small brown suit, white socks and highly-polished burgundy shoes. The white dress shirt he wore was one size too big, the sleeves extending past the brown jacket sleeves and the thin black tie he'd put on was a retro-blast from the eighties. A pocket protector bulging with pens and pencils, as well as a small flip notepad, was crammed into his shirt pocket. "What? You don't like it?"

"You look like a nerd!" Cordelia exclaimed.

Angel's eyes were twinkling with humor as he returned his gaze to her. He lifted his hand to his hair, which he'd purposely brushed flat in a Jerry Lewis style, and smoothed it down with an effeminate gesture. Then, he pulled a pair of horn-rimmed glasses out of his pocket, complete with white scotch tape holding one earpiece to the main part of the frame, and slipped them on his nose.

Cordelia burst into laughter, falling back onto the couch and clutching her middle. "Oh... my... god... You... look... so... ridiculous!" she gasped between laughs.

Angel smiled with an off-kilter boyishness that had the brunette almost falling onto the floor. Her laughter echoed against the stone walls of the mansion, where they had spent the night. A small bit of sunlight streamed through the crack in the heavy curtains over the broken doors to the sunken garden, helping to make the place less gloomy.

The dark-haired vampire heard footsteps and he turned to see Spike amble into the main room. The younger man's step faltered when he saw Angel, his blue eyes growing huge with disbelief. "Angel?" he said in a faint voice.

Angel clicked his heels together and gave Spike a half-nod. "Please, call me Dr. Lorn A. Doone," he said in a nasally voice.

"Lorn A. Doone!" Cordelia said in a high-pitched screech of laughter. "Lorn A. Doone! Cookies!"

"Cordelia, I won't be able to revive you if you die of laughter," Angel said in his own voice as he removed the fake glasses. He tucked them back into his pocket and walked over to the coffee table where piles of paper and a battered briefcase sat waiting for him.

"If Doyle could only see what you've become," Cordelia told him as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"Yeah," Angel said wistfully, a genuine smile crossing his face. "He probably would have died from laughter."

"Well, his opinion on your attractiveness certainly would have taken a nosedive," she commented as she pulled herself together. "Goodbye, Mr. Mysterious Hunk; Hello, Urkel."

"That's Mr. Mysterious Hunk with the Overhanging Brow," Angel corrected with a wink at her.

Cordelia studied his face. "You do sort of have the Neanderthal forehead going for you."

"Oh, thank you for pointing that out to me. What would I do without you to boost my ego?" Angel said in a flat tone of voice. He glanced up and saw that Spike was still standing near the edge of the room. He mentally smirked. "Come here, Spike."

Spike blinked twice, as if he were coming out of a shocked daze, then quickly walked across the room to Angel's side. The dark-haired vampire's mental smirk grew. Spike had definitely been put into place, Angel thought.

"Cordelia's going to drive me to my appointment with Professor Walsh," Angel said as he began putting the bound printouts of the Professor's behavior modification papers in the briefcase.

Willow had allowed them the use of her computer the previous night after their little breaking-and-entering adventure that resulted in nothing except for Angel penciling himself into the Professor's appointment book for the following afternoon at three. Luckily, her office had no windows, and the sunlight could be easily avoided throughout the rest of Lagerstrom Hall.

"While we're gone, I want you to write down every single detail you remember about being captured and the events subsequent thereto," Angel told Spike. "I want to know what you felt, who you talked to, what the place you were held at looked like, what color clothes people were wearing -- everything."

"Everything, right," Spike said. "Do you want that in triplicate?"

Angel reached out and cuffed Spike none-too-lightly across the back of the head. "There's blood leftover in the cooler if you get hungry. I'll pick up some more tonight, so don't worry if you finish it all."

"I wasn't worried," Spike muttered under his non-existent breath.

Angel pinned his Childe with a hard gaze. "What did you say?"

"I said: 'Yes, Angel. Thank you, Angel. You're so kind, Angel,'" Spike replied sarcastically.

"You know, Cordelia and I don't really have to leave for another half-hour," Angel said in an off-handed manner. "Why don't we step into the other room..." He let his sentence dangle, a cruel smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Spike swallowed visibly and took a step backwards. "That's okay, mate. You just go ahead and I'll get writing."

"If you're sure..."

Spike nodded quickly. "I'm sure."

"Okay then." Angel turned and shut the briefcase, then picked it up. "Ready, Cordelia?"

"Yes," Cordelia said. She smirked at Spike. "Do we need to take Spike out for a last minute tinkle before we go?"

"I think he can hold it," Angel said. He glanced back at the blond vampire with a threat in his eyes that gave seriousness to his joking words. "If he doesn't, I'll just have to punish him."

Spike dropped his head in a submissive gesture and said nothing. Angel nodded once in satisfaction, then looked back at Cordelia and gestured in the direction of the attached garage. "Let's go."

"It's an honor to meet you, Professor Walsh," Angel said in the nasally voice he affected for the character he was playing. He shook Maggie Walsh's hand enthusiastically and he was smiling so wide, his cheeks hurt.

"And you, Mister...," Maggie prompted.

"Doone," Angel supplied, still pumping her hand. "Dr. Lorn A. Doone, but everyone calls me by my middle name: Angel."

"Well, uh, Angel," Maggie said, trying to extract her hand from Angel's. "It's nice to meet you."

"No, it's nice to meet you," Angel said, firmly stressing the last word. He hoped his brown eyes behind the horn-rims looked worshipful rather than idiotic, like he felt.

"So, what can I do for you, Angel?" Maggie asked.

Angel released her hand abruptly, causing the Professor to take a step back to keep her balance. He lifted his briefcase and clutched it in front of him as if he were hugging it and gave her a dopey grin. "Oh, I was on my way to the behavioral science conference in Hammersmith," he began. According to Willow, there was such a conference being held in Hammersmith, and he'd learned that having a supportable false background made detective life less detrimental to his or his friends' health. "And I'd read at the end of your last published paper that you were teaching here, so since I was driving by Sunnydale anyway..."

"Driving from where?" Maggie said as she sat down.

The way she phrased the question was as if she were truly interested in him, but Angel could tell by the way she looked at him that he was being tested. Luckily, he had mapped out a cover story that included why he'd be in Sunnydale on top of why he'd be visiting the Professor.

"Connorsville," Angel replied, naming a semi-large town near Sunnydale. "I was visiting with my mother. I don't get to see her that often because my research keeps me very busy. Well, you know how it is when you're involved in researching."

"Yes, I do," Maggie said, giving him a small smile. "Quite often, time slips away without my even noticing. If I may ask, what is it that you're currently working on?"

"Cause and effect of chemical stimuli in the mating behavior of homo sapiens," Angel answered with another broad, moronic grin. "Or, as my assistants call the project, 'The Sure Thing.'" He snorted loudly and obnoxiously, as if what he'd just said was the funniest thing in the world.

He felt like a total idiot.

"It sounds interesting," Maggie said.

"How about you?" Angel asked, as he sat down across from her. "Are you working on a new project?"

"Somewhat new," she answered cautiously.

"Is it in relation to your last one on behavior modification using electro-neuro stimuli?" Angel said, his nasally voice full of excitement. He hoped that by acting as a young scientist with a strong case of hero-worship for her she'd speak more freely about her research. "I've read your last paper a couple hundred times," he opened the briefcase on his lap and pulled out the research paper in question, "and I found that the conclusions you were able to draw were amazing."

"Thank you, Angel," Maggie said, a slight flush of pleasure tinting her cheeks.

"I was wondering if you had thought of and application for electro-neuro stimulus to humans?" Angel said. He shut the briefcase and held the bound printout in his hands like it was the original copy of the Declaration of Independence. "It was inferred, but never outright stated, in your conclusions."

"Human experimentation is against the law," Maggie said bluntly.

"Oh, I know that," Angel said. "I was just hypothesizing on the benefits to mankind." He leaned forward in his chair, bouncing in fake enthusiasm. "I mean, think about it! Instead of spending all this money on building jails for convicted murderers and rapists, they're implanted with a device of some sort that utilizes your principles and prevents them from acting on their horrible impulses!"

"That was one of the directions I was going with my research," Maggie said, warming to the subject. "I agree with you about the benefits an electro-neuro device could have."

Angel mentally whooped -- she took the bait.

"Since my last published paper," she gestured to the bound printout in his hand, "I've been able to create such a device, small enough to be implanted and acts independently, rather than through operator control."

Angel purposely widened his eyes and said with nasally wonder, "Really?"

"Yes," Maggie confirmed. "And so far, experimentation indicates that the device works."

"How did you get it to work independently?" Angel asked.

"Through years of trial and error," Maggie told him with a shared-researcher's chuckle. "I've managed to pinpoint the precise area in the brain that controls predatory impulses. Whenever the neurons and synapses in that location flare, the device is activated by the brain's own electrical energy. The device then sends a high-powered shock directly into the brain itself, causing the predator to feel immense pain long enough that it halts the predatory behavior, but does no permanent damage."

"So it is like shock therapy?" Angel said. He noticed that the Professor had relaxed her posture and was speaking more freely, as if he really was a colleague, and he mentally sighed in relief at his apparent success.

"To a degree," Maggie replied. "The shocks are more powerful, but in short bursts in direct relation to the undesirable behavior."

"Can the device ever be removed?" Angel asked.

Maggie shook her head. "Not at this time. After the device was removed in the test subjects, the first time that portion of the brain was utilized, the subjects became frenzied. They attacked anything that moved, seemed not to be able to feel physical sensations and some gnawed their own limbs off."

"I take it that the test subjects that still have the device adapted to their new limitations?" Angel said.

"Yes," she said. "Twenty-four percent have become gentle, docile creatures. Sixteen percent have found other ways to still be predators that does not cause the device to react. Eleven percent have become withdrawn and angry, and three percent became unresponsive all together."

"What about the other forty-six percent?"

"They committed some form of suicide," Maggie replied. "The most repetitive method was by bleeding to death from a wound caused by the test subject's own teeth or claws."

Angel tapped a finger against his lips, acting like the nerdy scientist he was portraying. "Hmm. I gather that the more predatory the test subject, the more likely it was a part of the percentage that committed suicide?"

"Very astute," Maggie said. "The more predatory of the species' that were tested chose not to adapt."

"What about your current project?" Angel prompted, having learned all that he felt he would about what was stopping Spike from acting on his natural impulses. "Are you working on an adaptation of this device or on something else?"

"I am, for the most part, researching how physiology relates to behavior, which also includes continuing work on my electro-neuro device," Maggie replied.

When she didn't go on, Angel concluded that he'd more than likely reached the end of this particular avenue of investigation. "Well, as one behavioral psychologist to another, I will truly be looking forward to your next published paper."

"I will be sure to watch for yours, as well," Maggie said.

Angel gave her the same off-kilter grin that had Cordelia practically rolling on the floor in laughter. "Oh, that would be such an honor to me. I would love to receive your opinions after it's published."

Maggie stood and held out her hand. "Then I'll be certain to send them to you."

Angel stood as well, tucking the briefcase under his left arm in order to shake her hand with great enthusiasm again. "Thank you for seeing me. I cannot wait to tell my colleagues that I met the Margaret Walsh."

Maggie gave him a small smile. "It was nice to meet you, too, Angel."

Angel released her hand and ducked his head in shyness. "Um, would you mind if I, uh... asked you to sign my copy of your latest paper?" He held out the bound printout towards her.

"I'd be happy to," she replied, taking it from him. She quickly signed her name to the front page before handing it back to him.

"Thanks!" he said. "Now I'll be the envy of the conference!"

Maggie laughed. "Goodbye, Angel."

Angel sent her another cheesy grin before heading to the door. "Goodbye," he said as he clumsily juggled the signed paper and briefcase as he turned the doorknob. "It was a pleasure meeting-"

"Angel?"

Angel whipped his head around and his voice returned to normal as he gasped, "Buffy?"

Buffy, wearing a soft yellow dress, stood on the other side of the doorway, her hand poised to knock. The combination of confusion and surprise on her face struck Angel right in the heart. Unbelievable longing speared him, making his mouth go dry and his eyes water as he stared at her.

Angel suddenly dropped the things in his hands and yanked Buffy into his arms. His lips claimed hers without hesitation, his tongue plunging into the warmth of her mouth. He heard a sigh and realized that he was the one who had made the satisfied sound.

He lifted Buffy up and turned so he could press her back against the door. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, which was pressed firmly against the erection that had formed the second he'd heard her voice.

Angel's hands cupped Buffy's firm ass, his fingers kneading her supple flesh beneath the material of her clothing. She whimpered in the back of her throat and wiggled in his arms, causing him to groan into the kiss. He wanted her with an intensity that defined logic.

Shifting his weight, he supported her with one hand and he brought the other between their bodies. Somehow, he managed to free himself from the confines of his too-small pants. His fingers sought and found the edges of her panties beneath her dress and he pushed them aside.

The dark-haired vampire growled in completion as he thrust home. Her heat caressed him, burned him, cursed him to a life of never wanting another mate. He couldn't get enough of her. He'd never be able to get enough of her. He loved her wholly and completely and with his entire soul.

The demon inside of him growled in disgust. The demon inside of him wanted nothing to do with her. The demon inside of him wanted to hit and bite and punish and dominate. The demon inside of him wanted his own mate, the one he'd claimed decades ago, the one who made the demon inside of him whole and complete.

Angel forcefully shoved his demon away as he pounded into his woman. Buffy was the one he wanted... Buffy was the one he needed... Buffy was the one he loved... Spike was the one he craved... Spike was the one he obsessed about... Spike was the one he wanted to dominate...

Buffy's inner walls grasped at him and he groaned. She broke the kiss and breathed his name as her climax approached. "Angel."

Angel thrust faster and harder, wanting to push her over the edge and join him in oblivion.

"Angel."

Buffy, yes, Buffy, he thought. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy...

"Angel." The gentle hand on his arm snapped him out of his daydream and Angel found himself looking down into concerned blue-grey eyes. "Angel, are you okay?" Buffy asked him softly.

Oh crap, Angel thought, remembering where he was, who he was with and the fact that he looked like a red-faced escapee from a Revenge of the Nerds reunion. If Buffy blew his cover, he was up shit creek without a paddle.

Think fast, old man, he told himself. Abruptly, he let out a loud laugh that sounded like a donkey braying. He wrapped his arms around Buffy and, with an "oomph" from her, he gave her an enthusiastic hug, the briefcase in his hand hitting her hard in the back. "Buffy! It's so good to see you again!" he exclaimed in his nasally voice.

"It's, uh, good to see you, too, Angel," Buffy said with wariness.

He released her and gave her a goofy grin. "It's been so long. The last time I saw you, you were in pig-tails and had skinned knees. Now, look at you, you're all grown up."

"That's me. Grown-up Buffy," Buffy said, looking at him as if he'd grown another head. Of course, his second head had grown to full proportions and his ill-fitting jacket was doing little to hide it... and he really needed to stay on track if he was going to get himself out of this situation.

Angel turned to look back at Professor Walsh, who was looking at both of them suspiciously. "I used to mow this little moppet's lawn. I remember the one day she insisted on helping me and the mower almost ran off with her." He let out another obnoxious laugh.

"So, Angel, what are you doing here?" Buffy asked him pointedly.

"Why, to see the Margaret Walsh, of course," Angel answered her. He shook his head and glanced back at Maggie as if to say 'can you believe her?'

"Buffy, was there something I could help you with?" Maggie said.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work," Angel said to Maggie. "Goodbye, again... again." He gave the Professor his off-kilter grin before turning it on Buffy. "Buffy, it was wonderful to see you. Tell your folks I said hello, okay?"

"Er, sure, Angel," Buffy said. "I'll do that."

"Good, good," Angel said. "Bye."

Angel ever-so-gently pushed by Buffy and scurried out of the office. He practically bolted for the exit to Langerstrom Hall, where Cordelia was waiting with the car. He waved to her under the safety of the overhang and she pulled as close to the curb as she could before opening the passenger door.

He quickly darted from his safe haven to the car and jumped in, slamming the door shut behind him and pulling a tarp over his body. He was only a little singed from the sun, but he was burned to a crisp from his encounter with Buffy.

"Well?" Cordelia asked as she put the car in gear.

"Next time, we ignore visions about Spike," came Angel's muffled reply. "And we never, ever come back to Sunnydale."

"Ah, you must have seen Buffy," Cordelia said.

Angel peeked out from behind the tarp. "That obvious, huh?"

"Oh yeah, it's that obvious."

Angel sighed and he let his thoughts drift back to his encounter with Buffy, his daydream... and his thoughts about Spike. "Cordelia."

"Hmm?"

"I want you to know that I trust you more than anyone else in this world. You're family to me, the only family I have, so I feel safe in telling you that I'm going crazy."

Cordelia glanced over at him. "Crazy how?"

"I keep having possessive and erotic thoughts..."

"Well, you are male," Cordelia said.

"...about Spike."

Cordelia shot another look at him. "You're not serious."

Angel peered at her over the tops of the horn-rimmed glasses still on his nose. "I'm dead serious."

"Ha, ha," she said sarcastically. She turned her attention back to the road.

Angel waited, and when Cordelia didn't question him, he frowned in confusion. "Cordelia, aren't you going to ask me why I'm having dreams involving Spike?"

"Why should I?" Cordelia replied. "It's obvious that you're having vampirey needs and are hungering for something only another vampire can provide. It probably came about because you denied your demon the opportunity to fight in that sicko game and, before that, Penn was giving you wet dreams tied to the past."

"But why Spike?" Angel asked, intrigued by her insight. "Why not Penn or any other vampire?"

"Well, for one thing, Penn's dust," Cordelia said. "You saw it happen. But, the last you knew, Spike was dead and kicking still, instead of just dead. And there's no way the demon part of you would let anyone close that you didn't know."

"Then why not Drusilla?"

"Drusilla is a crazy lunatic," Cordelia replied. "Spike is a passionate sociopath. Which would you rather have in your bed?"

"Spike," Angel answered without hesitation.

"Then there you go."

"But it's still Spike."

"Angel, I know what you did in Giles's bathroom," Cordelia told him bluntly. "First off, it's beyond tacky to screw someone in another person's house. Secondly, if I didn't know that vampires have sex with anything that moves, I'd wonder if your love-angst relationship with Buffy totally messed up your brain."

"Hey." Angel glared at her.

"Third," Cordelia continued, undaunted. "Because it's Spike, you know that you can get it on without worrying about losing your soul. If you got a happy from him, I'd seriously think about taking up sunbathing. And finally, you've got a yen to pay him back for torturing you and what better way to do that than to do that dominance thing I've read vampires thrive on. You're not...him, but you're still a vampire, and you have vampirey needs."

She gave him a bright smile. "I went full circle. That's so cool."

Spike was pacing back and forth like a tiger in a cage, and it was starting to annoy Angel to no end. The dark-haired vampire looked up and glared at the younger man. "Spike," Angel addressed his Childe in a dominating tone. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor beside his legs. "Sit."

Spike pursed his lips and practically stomped over to Angel's side. He dropped down to the floor, leaned back against the couch and rested his wrists on his bent knees. Angel could hear him muttering obscenities under his non-existent breath and the older man rolled his eyes before going back to reading what Spike had written on the legal pad on his lap.

The blond vampire hadn't written very much. According to what Angel had read, Spike remembered getting shocked from behind and waking up in a white-walled room, with one wall made of electrified glass. A blood bag had dropped from a panel in the ceiling about an hour after he'd awoken, but the vampire in the cell next to him told Spike that it was drugged.

As Angel continued to read what Spike had written, he absently reached out and began to run his fingers through Spike's hair.

The blond's chicken-scratchings reported that he had thought it was Buffy who'd caught him and had made plans to kill her while he waited for a chance to escape. When it hadn't looked like whomever captured him would come by to check on him, he had started his own plan of escape by pretending to drink the drugged blood and fall unconscious.

Spike then went on to write that, as he'd hoped, someone came and opened the cell. Spike wrote that he waited until he was moved out before he attacked and made his escape. He gave the details that he could remember of what the scientists and soldiers he'd seen looked like and were wearing, as well as writing about the other vampire he'd briefly freed. He also described the creatures he'd seen in the cells across from him, only one of which he was able to name. Finally, at the end, Spike detailed his almost-recapture and added a few questions which he wanted to find answers for.

"You were able to somewhat attack these scientists, but now you can't even bump into someone without your head hurting?" Angel said, summarizing one of the questions at the bottom of the legal pad.

"Yeah," Spike replied. "And I don't get it. I squeezed that one git's throat pretty fucking hard and nothing happened."

"Perhaps the device needed to warm up first, like our copier does," Angel said.

"Great, now I'm an effin' office machine," Spike grumbled.

Angel glanced at Spike and realized that he was petting the blond's hair. Spike was also leaning against Angel's right leg and fiddling with the cuff of the older vampire's pants.

Angel instantly felt like he'd jumped into a time machine and traveled back a hundred years. The setting was exactly as it had been all those years ago -- a large mansion, a crackling fire, his Childe sitting at his feet and him running his fingers through the younger man's hair. All that was missing was Drusilla dancing around to music only she could hear, telling them what the moon was whispering to her.

The dark-haired vampire leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. For once, the memories of the past didn't pain him. He continued to comb his fingers through Spike's hair as he let his mind drift over several not-unpleasant memories of times with his Childer before he came back to the problems at hand.

Angel hadn't told Spike that the device in his head couldn't be removed, nor was Angel sure that he wanted to tell the younger man. Willow had filled him in the night before about Spike's attempted suicide before the blond vampire had found out he could at least fight other demons. It was possible that the news that Spike would have the device permanently would send him back into the black spiral of depression.

It was looking more and more likely that the only option the older vampire had was to bring his Childe with him back to LA. Perhaps that was the intentions of the Powers That Be in sending Angel to help Spike. If he could convince the younger vampire to help, Angel would have a formidable fighting partner, and there wouldn't be much that the two of them couldn't beat.

Of course, convincing a soulless vampire to help humans for non-self-gratifying reasons was quite near the impossible end of the scale. Angel could force Spike to help if he wanted to by keeping the younger man thoroughly dominated -- which wasn't too bad of an idea -- but then Angel would have to worry that Spike may drop the ball in a crucial moment and get the dark-haired vampire or one of his friends killed. No, it was better if Spike chose to help freely and thus give Angel another true partner in his fight against evil.

"You two look cozy."

Angel's head shot up and he saw Buffy standing in the garden doorway, twilight casting an ethereal glow around her body as she held the heavy curtain open. "Buffy," he said with both surprise and pleasure.

He felt Spike stiffen and the hem of his pants tighten around his lower leg as Spike's fingers curled the material. Angel purposely continued to lightly run his fingers through the younger man's hair, hoping the action would relax Spike again like it was doing for himself.

No wonder humans had pets, Angel thought. His lips curled up into an amused smile when he pictured Spike's reaction to being compared with a pussycat.

Angel's attention was caught by Buffy again when she ventured into the mansion, still wearing the yellow dress he'd seen her in earlier. The light material rode up high on her thighs when she sat down on the couch across from him, making him focus instantly on her legs.

His eyes started at her trim ankles and slowly traveled up the long expanse of exposed skin. His gaze caressed the curve of her calf, the small bump of her knee, the smoothness of her thigh, the slight patch of dark curls he could see by the way she was laying across his bed, the dip of her waist leading his eyes further up to her small breasts that rose and fell with every breath she took, her blond hair spilling partially over the surface of her tanned skin of her upper chest and the hand propping her head up, while the fingers of her other hand repeatedly ran over Spike's hair as he sat on his heels on the floor beside the bed, blood slowly tracing a path from the twin holes in his neck down the front of his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen muscles until disappearing into the thatch of dark hair surrounding the erection that swelled and twitched under Angel's hungry eyes...

"What do you want, Slayer?"

Angel blinked several times at the sound of Spike's voice. Oh hell, he thought when he realized he'd been fantasizing again. He pulled at the hem of his untucked shirt, making sure it helped to cover the raging hard on that was making his trousers extremely tight. He definitely needed to get out of Sunnydale. Antarctica was pleasant this time of year.

"I came to find out what's going on," Buffy replied. "Willow sort of filled me in when I saw her after I went to have my vision checked."

"Is there something wrong with your eyes?" Angel asked in concern.

"Yeah, I thought they were playing tricks on me when I saw you in Professor Walsh's office, considering you're supposed to be in LA," Buffy said. "Turns out I was just blinded by that hideous outfit you were wearing."

"I admit it's not my usual style," Angel said.

Buffy smiled at his humor and Angel reciprocated with a half-grin. "So, tell me, what's up? Did you come to take the neutered one home with you, I hope, I hope?" she said.

Spike growled at her and Angel lightly hit the blond on his head before continuing to pet him. "I may end up taking him back to LA with me if it continues to be unsafe for him here in Sunnydale," Angel answered Buffy.

"Who says I'll go with you?" Spike snapped as he glared up at his Sire.

"You'll do whatever I tell you to do," Angel said.

"Yeah, ri-" Spike stopped mid-word and dropped his eyes when Angel gave him a hard look.

Angel returned his eyes to Buffy and saw that she was watching him with a puzzled expression on her face. He really didn't want to explain about Spike's current behavior -- or his own for that matter -- so he went into investigator mode to stay her questions.

"Tell me what you know about the Initiative," Angel said, his fingers moving down to trace a random pattern on the nape of Spike's neck. He hid his pleasure when the younger vampire dropped his chin slightly to expose more of his neck to Angel's touch. A luscious neck that Angel wanted to sink his fangs into and...

"Other than catching demons and turning them into fluffy bunnies, not much," Buffy said, stopping Angel's mind from going completely off-track.

Angel mentally cursed himself. What was wrong with him? He'd gone celibate for more than eighty years before and now he couldn't even go twenty-four hours?

"I know they're military operated complete with hush-hush, need-to-know secrets," Buffy continued. "And they have all sorts of hi-tech equipment they use when hunting."

"So you don't know what happens to the good demons that they catch?" Angel asked for confirmation.

"There are good demons?" Buffy asked in reply.

Spike snorted. "Are there evil humans?"

"Yes, Buffy, there are a lot of species of demons that are harmless... like Spike," Angel told her with a small smirk.

"Very funny, mate," Spike grumbled.

"I thought so," Angel said.

"How come I've never met any of these good demons then?" Buffy said.

"Why would you have?" Angel said. "Evil makes the chaos you battle, not good."

"Do you know any demons that are on the side of good? I mean, personally?" Buffy asked. "And Cordelia doesn't count."

Angel threw his head back and laughed. Cordelia would kill him if he ever repeated that. Wesley, though, would get chuckle out of it, so he might risk the brunette's wrath to share.

When he stopped laughing, he found Buffy looking at him in amazement. "You know, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you really laugh before," she said.

"It's a must when dealing with Cordelia day-in and day-out," Angel said with a wink. "And, to answer your question, I've known several demons and half-demons who were on the side of good. One of my best friends was a half-Brachen demon and a complete Irish drunkard."

"Are there any other kind of Irishmen?" Spike muttered. Angel flicked the back of the younger vampire's neck then continued his random finger-tracing.

"Who is it?" Buffy said. "Have I met him?"

"You met Doyle only very briefly," Angel replied. He felt his heart start to ache for both his heroic comrade and for the day that Buffy had met Doyle, making his throat close up. He lowered his chin and briefly closed his eyes against the pain. It was funny how quickly things could go from laughter to tears.

"I think I remember him," Buffy said. "He's the guy who gets the visions, right?"

"Yeah, that was him." Angel stood and paced across to the fireplace, needing to distance himself from both her and the memories. "He died back in December."

And only a week after the best day of his unlife became the day that never happened, he added silently.

"The mick's dead?" Spike said happily. "How'd he go? Was he ripped into barely identifiable pieces? Or did he do the pansy-assed, dramatic death scene?" He closed his eyes, put his hands over his heart and continued in falsetto, "'Oh, Angel, you must go on without me. Our love will always li-'"

CRACK.

Angel's booted foot caught the underside of Spike's chin when his leg snapped forward in a rage-filled snap-kick. Spike's jaw slammed shut, the crack of his lower teeth against his upper ones splintering the room. The kick flung Spike's head back and caused his mouth to fill with blood as the impact shifted his upper teeth.

The dark-haired vampire then picked Spike up by the front of the younger man's shirt. Furious gold eyes bore into blue ones. "You are never to say anything about Doyle again," Angel hissed. "Understand?"

Spike nodded.

Angel narrowed his eyes, his ridges becoming more pronounced. "No, I don't think you do," he said in a deadly tone. "And from your remarks, its seems you didn't learn your place the first time."

"Yes, I did," Spike said quickly, blood dribbling from his mouth as he spoke. "I did, Sire. I did."

"Buffy, would you excuse us, please?" Angel said, not removing his eyes from Spike.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Buffy said.

Angel nodded once and practically dragged Spike out of the room. The sound of a door slamming echoed against the mansion's stone walls.

Then, silence.

Angel noticed that Buffy kept glancing back at Spike as they walked to Giles's house, but she didn't ask and Angel didn't volunteer information as to why the blond vampire was following behind them like a silent puppy. What he'd done was between a Sire and his Childe only and not to be shared with a beautiful ex-girlfriend that he was still head-over-heels in love with.

It had been two hours since Angel had hauled Spike into one of the back bedrooms. Cordelia had returned to the mansion during that time after having run errands for him, and Angel had found her and Buffy conversing about Doyle, Wesley and Dennis when he came back into the living room. The two girls had continued chatting while Angel fed and made notes for his file on Spike until the blond vampire had finally joined them. Then, since Angel wanted to send his co-worker to get her own dinner, he'd given Cordelia his car keys and had told Spike that he was accompanying them back to Giles's house.

As they walked, Buffy was filling him in on the various larger battles -- and one six-inch one -- she'd had to fight thus far during her first year of college. Other than the close call with the three demons trying to reopen the Hellmouth, she seemed to have had no troubles keeping the citizens of Sunnydale safe.

But, for some reason, Angel felt as though she was keeping something from him. It was almost as if she were omitting a portion of her stories and he didn't know why. Didn't she know that she could tell him anything?

He was grateful for one thing, however. It seemed as though any awkwardness that should have been present between them was minimized. Maybe it was because Angel was there to help Spike and not her, or maybe it was because Spike was walking with them and, before, Cordelia had monopolized the conversation. Whatever it was, Angel was thankful. The bittersweet ache he felt in Buffy's presence was bad enough as it was -- although he wouldn't trade a second of walking by her side even it meant feeling as though he was in Hell again.

"...Ethan Rayne came back to town and turned Giles into a Fyarl demon," Buffy was saying. "I stabbed Giles with a letter opener."

"I take it he wasn't too happy about that,"Angel commented.

"He was just glad to get back to his old self, minus the horns and hooves," Buffy said. "And I was triply-glad that the letter opener wasn't made of real silver."

"Well, I'm glad, in a sense, that it didn't happen on your birthday," Angel said. "And I hope your actual birthday was good."

"They threw me a surprise party," Buffy said wryly.

Angel winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, ouch," Buffy agreed. She sighed. "But it was a very sweet thought. The cake was cakey, the punch fruity and the people merry. Plus, I got gifts. Nothing as exciting as getting an arm in a box," she gave Spike an evil glare over her shoulder, "but still good gifts."

"If I'd know it was your birthday, Slayer, I'd have given you something," Spike said, his voice low-pitched and quiet, as if it he was afraid to speak. "Maybe a nice pearl necklace."

"Why would you want to give me jewelry?" Buffy said in confusion.

Angel choked back his laughter. "Spike," he said, trying to keep his tone stern. "That's not nice."

"Reminder -- I'm not a nice man," Spike said dryly. He sped up slightly until he was walking even with Buffy, pulling every-so-often on the denim over his inner thigh, where Angel had taken a large bite out of his femoral artery. "And the closest I ever want to get sexually with Buffy would be to give her that necklace. Even then, only if I was forced to. Playing sucky-face with the chit was horrifying enough as it was."

"Hey, don't think that it was a picnic for me, either," Buffy said. "I had to scrub my mouth out with sandpaper and gargle with CLR to get rid of the ick-factor that came with kissing you."

"Shit, can you imagine if we actually did get married before Willow's cocked-up spell broke?" Spike shivered in revulsion. "I would've had to take a holy water bath for weeks."

The disgusted look on Buffy's face made it evidently clear what she thought of that. Still, she joked, "I don't know. I think Mr. and Mrs. Pile-Of-Dust had a nice ring to it."

"Speakin' of rings," Spike said, his voice somewhat back to normal. "What happened to mine?"

"I tried to sell it to a pawn shop, but they could only assign a negative value to it," Buffy replied.

"Ha ha," Spike said.

"It gets better," Buffy said. "I gave the ring to Xander and now he uses it when he's pretending to be The Phantom."

"Complete with purple tights?" Spike asked.

"Yep."

Spike started to chuckle, which was immediately joined with Buffy's giggles. Angel, on the other hand, was glowering in jealousy, even though Buffy had already told him about Willow's spell.

Spike had kissed Buffy. His Buffy. And Buffy had kissed Spike back. Her warm tongue had stroked the inside of Spike's cool mouth, had tangled with the younger vampire's own skilled tongue, had stoked passion and arousal that had to have made Spike insane with hunger to bury himself in her hot core.

Angel could see Spike's hard, lean body pressed flush up against Buffy's softer one, his strong fingers caressing her skin, making her moan in delight. Naked, they were entwined together on the bed in Angel's own bedroom, the candles spread around the room casting shadows on their forms. Spike's hips rose and fell with every slow thrust he made into Buffy's slick channel, with Buffy's legs wrapped over his calves as she lifted her own hips to meet each of his thrusts.

Spike and Buffy stopped kissing suddenly and turned their heads. Both of them reached out in the same direction and Angel found himself being pulled onto the bed with them, touching both of his lovers and being touched in return.

Angel moved behind Spike, positioned his weeping shaft and thrust forward into the younger vampire's tight hole, driving Spike into Buffy. All three of them groaned at the sensations, and soon they were moving together in a rapturous rhythm that had them all panting with pleasure.

"Angel, tree."

Angel stopped two-inches away from walking straight into a poplar tree.

He stared at the tree for a moment in mortification, then glanced over at Spike and Buffy, who were both wearing similar expressions of amusement on their faces... which only served to increase the blood flow to his groin. There had to be something in the Sunnydale air that was causing him to be as continuously horny as a teenaged boy. It was either that or Cordelia was putting aphrodisiacs in his blood supply.

He'd grill her later.

"You can stop smiling now," Angel told them, stepping to the left, then proceeding forward again around the tree outside of Giles's building.

"What could you have been thinking about so intently that you almost pulled a George?" Buffy asked him.

"Pulled a what?" Angel frowned at her in confusion.

"A George," Buffy said. "You know, George of the Jungle? Watch out for that -- smack -- tree? Brendan Frasier in a droolcloth... forget I said that last one."

Angel gave her a small smile. "I was thinking about the case, that's all." Spike snorted. Angel shot him a glare and the younger man schooled his features to express innocence. "Do you have something to say?"

"No," Spike replied. "Nothing at all."

"That's what I thought," Angel said. They went down the stone steps into the courtyard, the dark-haired vampire falling slightly behind. He snagged the back of Spike's duster and slowed his Childe down in order to speak privately with the blond.

"Behave," Angel warned. "Just because the others will be here doesn't mean I won't take you over my knee in front of them all and tan your hide. Got it?"

"Yes, Sire," Spike said quietly.

"Good," Angel said.

Silence greeted them when Angel, followed docilely by Spike, entered Giles's home. Angel glanced down, wondering if the erection he still had was that blatantly obvious. His untucked shirt seemed to be adequately hiding it and he raised his head again with a carefully blank expression on his face.

An uncomfortable tension filled Angel and he fervently wished Cordelia was present. Whatever comfortableness he'd had with Buffy on the walk over vanished with a swiftness that cut sharper than a knife to his gut. It was almost as if, now that she was in the presence of Xander, Anya, Willow and Giles, Buffy remembered he was her ex-everything and they weren't allowed to be friendly with each other.

Angel decided that, come hell again, he'd finish his business in Sunnydale that night.

"I'm glad everyone is here," Angel began, lying through his teeth. He threw himself into investigator-mode, forcefully pushing aside his feelings. He could brood later. "I just want to update you on what I've learned before we leave."

"Fire away," Xander said from his perch on the stairs, Anya sitting beside him. "We're all tingling with anticipation to hear your words of wisdom."

Angel ground his teeth together and he took a purposeful breath. He wanted to keep any and all emotions from his voice, including irritation at a certain brunette boy who badly needed to be put into place.

"I spoke with a professor at the university by the name of Margaret Walsh," Angel looked from person to person, noting their reactions as he spoke, "and I learned that she is the person who designed the device that Spike has in his head."

Willow and Buffy exchanged worried glances, but didn't seemed to surprised to hear of the Professor's involvement. "Buffy, is there anything you know about the Professor that I should know?" Angel asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I knew she's involved with the Initiative and that she holds some sort of position of leadership, but that's about all."

"Did you find out if the, er, device could be removed?" Giles asked Angel.

Angel turned and looked at Spike, who met his gaze with a worried, questioning look of his own. "No, it can't be removed," the dark-haired vampire said unemotionally.

Spike pressed his lips together into a thin, white line. Angel could tell the younger man was trying desperately not to react to the news. He was able to hold back for three seconds.

"Damn it all to hell!" Spike spun and slammed his fist into the wall, making a hand-sized hole in the plaster. "Those fucking bastards!"

Angel wanted to let his Childe rage, but he doubted Giles would want his house destroyed. If only Giles hadn't asked that specific question, Angel thought with a silent curse, as he took a step towards Spike. "Spike, stop."

Spike's yellow eyes blazed with anger and pain. "Leave me the fuck alone, you soddin' pillock! This is all your fault...," the blond vampire looked past Angel to the others in the room, "...the whole lot of you! Why couldn't you just die like good little food?! Why is it that you stupid twits are the ones who win over and over again?! Why am I the one who always gets royally fucked?!"

The dark-haired vampire grabbed Spike's wrists and held tightly. "Outside," Angel instructed quietly. He released Spike and the younger man whirled, stalked to the door, threw it open and stormed out.

Angel glanced back at the others. "Excuse us," he said politely before following his Childe, making sure to shut the door firmly behind him.

Spike grabbed the edge of a picnic table and upended it with a roar. A planter was next to receive his anger, followed by several potted plants being smashed to the ground. A neighbor's ceramic gnome went flying through the air after a vicious kick and shattered against the stucco wall of the building.

Angel leaned back against the door to Giles's home, watching silently and waiting for the rage to leave Spike. It wouldn't take long -- Angel'd been there before, after Doyle had died -- and the dark-haired vampire wasn't necessarily pleased to know he was right.

Spike dropped to his knees and screamed ferally to the night sky, then bent forward and slammed his fists down on the concrete ground of the courtyard. He slowly lowered his head until his ridged brow was touching the ground, which was when Angel moved.

The dark-haired vampire squatted beside Spike and put his hand on the younger man's shaking back. "Pull yourself together," Angel told him softly. "Then we'll finish up here and go home."

"Is everything okay?"

Angel raised his head at Cordelia's calmly asked question and saw his friend descending the steps to the courtyard, a small takeout bag in hand. "No, but we'll make do," he replied.

Spike straightened and wiped his once-again human face with the back of his sleeve. "Let's get this done. I want to leave this hellhole."

Angel nodded, stood and led the way back inside. He was greeted again by an unnerving silence, but this time, because Cordelia was with them, it didn't bother him as much. He'd have to remember to tell her later how grateful he was for her presence.

"I'm taking Spike back to LA with me," Angel announced without preamble. "This Initiative is-"

"Here," Anya interrupted, pointing at the window. "They're here."

Angel, Cordelia and Spike turned to face the door the same time there was a knock on it. Angel moved quickly in front of his Childe at the same time Spike let out a low growl of anger. The dark-haired vampire held up his hand and Spike was immediately silent, but Angel could feel the tension radiating from him in waves.

Giles walked to the window and glanced out. "It's appears to be only Riley."

"Commando-fucker himself," Spike spat.

"He's probably looking for me," Buffy said in an offhanded manner. "He was going to patrol with me tonight."

If Angel hadn't known what every gesture and expression on Buffy's face meant, he would have missed it. But since he was completely in love with her, and had been since the day he'd first seen her, it was glaringly obvious to him what she was trying to hide from him.

Riley was her new boyfriend.

White-hot jealousy ran up his spine, making him straighten to his full height. The new feeling compounded on top of his demon's anger at the threat to his Childe, but instead of causing a primitive response, Angel became perfectly still.

"Let him in," Angel said in a calm, cool voice, his hands hanging loosely by his sides.

"I think I'm going to eat my dinner in the kitchen now," Cordelia said, having heard that voice before. She quickly moved in that direction as Buffy answered the door.

"Riley, hi," Buffy greeted in a somewhat subdued tone. "Ready to patrol?"

"I'm ready," Riley said, smiling down at her. "Did you bring a coat? It's getting pretty cold..."

The sandy-haired soldier trailed off when he caught sight of Angel over Buffy's shoulder. His own posture changed as military training kicked in. "You."

Angel stared dispassionately back. "Buffy, aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Buffy said, stepping back from the door. "Riley, this is Angel-"

"We've met," Riley interrupted. "He stopped us from apprehending a HST."

"I'm not an HST, I'm a bloody vampire!" Spike exclaimed. He went to storm past his Sire, but Angel put his arm out to the side, stopping him.

"Hostile 17." Riley stared in shock. "Buffy, why is Hostile 17 here?"

"It's a long story," Buffy hedged, looking at Giles for help.

"We've been looking for Hostile 17 since he escaped and you've been hiding him here the whole time?" Riley said with incredulity-tinged anger.

"My name isn't Hostile 17," Spike snarled, pushing against Angel's arm. "It's Spike, you fu-"

"Hush."

The word itself was benign compared to other methods of telling someone to be quiet, but the soft tone with which it was said caused all eyes to turn to Angel and shut Spike up mid-word.

Angel had never used the tone of voice reserved for dominating his Childer in front of his former friends before and, if he was acting more like his normal self, he'd be feeling guilty at the wide-eyed looks of fear he was receiving. However, right then, he could care less.

"Buffy, why don't you invite Riley inside so we can have a nice chat?" Angel suggested calmly. "I know I have some things I want to ask him."

Buffy turned back to Riley at the same time Riley reached behind his back and things exploded into chaos in an instant.

"Riley, why don't-"

Angel leapt towards Buffy when he saw Riley's movements, a snarl ripping from his throat.

"Buffy, down!" Riley ordered.

The dark-haired vampire shoved Buffy back behind him with a force that sent her falling to the floor. Angel snatched the handheld device out of Riley's hand and crushed it in his grip before the mortal could even blink. Without pause, Angel grabbed Riley, shoved the young man against the doorjamb and pressed his forearm tight across Riley's throat.

"I allow no one to endanger or threaten my lovers," Angel hissed. "And Spike and Buffy are mine."

Riley gasped for air, clawing at Angel's arm with one hand and trying to reach his pocket with his other.

Cordelia rushed out of the kitchen. "Angel, let him go this minute!"

Angel growled, "Not a chance." Both halves of himself had blended together from jealousy and anger and, coupled with the stress of being in Sunnydale, his logic had gone in favor of pure emotion.

"I told you to let him go, you doof!" Cordelia kicked the crushed device on her way over to him. "You killed the big bad radio. The danger is over."

Angel looked at her sharply. "Radio?"

Riley used that moment to whip a retractable stick-club open and smacked Angel hard on his head. Angel released Riley and took a partial step back more from shock than from being hurt. Riley raised his weaponed hand again and Spike let out a loud snarl at the same time Buffy yelled, "Riley, don't!"

Spike galvanized into action, launching himself across the distance between himself and Riley and tackling the sandy-haired soldier. The vampire howled out in pain when he hit Riley and he was easily shoved off.

Riley rolled up to one knee and slammed the stick-club down across the back of Spike's neck. His arm came up a second time, but before he could strike the blond vampire a second time, his wrist was grabbed in a punishing grip.

Angel squeezed Riley's wrist until the youth dropped the weapon. The older man drew his fist back and started to throw a punch at Riley. Buffy caught his elbow and pulled his punch up short. The dark-haired vampire's gaze shot to Buffy, a growl tumbling from his lips.

"Angel, don't," Buffy said. None of them noticed the audience watching from the door.

Angel scowled and released Riley abruptly. Riley stood quickly and put himself into a fighting stance. The dark-haired vampire's lip curled up in a sneer. "You think you can take me on?"

"Angel, enough!" Buffy snapped, tugging hard on the vampire's arm until he faced her. "Riley didn't know about Spike and beating him up isn't going to work as an explanation!"

"But it'll make me feel better," Angel muttered, glowering darkly at her.

"Yeah, but it'll piss me off," Buffy told him. "Now, we're all going to go inside and talk like mature adults. Got it?"

"Tell her to fuck off and beat the crap out of the commando," Spike grumbled from the ground by their feet.

Without taking his eyes from Buffy, Angel used the same soft dominating tone of voice as earlier to say: "Know your place, boy."

"Yes, Sire," Spike said quietly in response, rising up to his knees at Angel's side.

Angel cupped Spike's head and pressed the younger vampire possessively against his thigh, his thumb lightly stroking Spike's blond hair. Buffy glanced down at Spike, then returned her gaze to Angel's with a questioning lift to her brow.

The dark-haired vampire didn't explain, instead he called over to Cordelia, who was watching from the doorway with the others. "Cordelia, go start the car. We'll be there in a minute."

Cordelia shook her head as she started across the courtyard. "Next time, vision or not, we are so staying at home."

"So, that's it?" Buffy said to Angel. "You're just going to run off again and leave me to pick up the pieces?"

"If I don't leave now, I'm going to tear your new boyfriend into shreds and bathe in his blood," Angel replied, his voice revealing no emotion. Inside, however, he was a quagmire of jealousy and rage, all of which was focused on a single individual -- Riley.

"Oh," Buffy said, blinking at him in shock. "Why?"

"Because he hurt what is mine and has what I want more than anything," Angel answered bluntly.

"Oh... again."

Angel's entire body hardened at the beautifully stunned expression on Buffy's face and he gave up the fight against himself. He wrapped his free hand around the back of her head and hauled her to him. With a sigh of pleasure, his mouth descended upon hers and he kissed her with all the built-up passion that had been bubbling within him.

Dimly, he heard sputtered exclamations around them, but the burning sweetness of Buffy's mouth beneath his caused him to tune everything out. His lips moved over hers with possessiveness and an expertise that came with having kissed her thousands of times before. His tongue dove between her parted lips and swept into the warm cavern of her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own.

When he felt her hands slide around his waist under his coat he growled in satisfaction. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, savagely plundering her mouth and dueling with her tongue. She pressed herself up against him and he could feel the hard nubs of her nipples poking him in the chest. His already-throbbing erection swelled even fuller, threatening to rip the material of his pants, and he thrust his hips forward against hers.

Buffy mewled in the back of her throat and the sound shot down Angel's spine, causing him to shiver. His hand dropped from holding her head to her buttocks, cupping her ass in order to pull her more firmly against his erection. His fingers dug into the soft globe as he ground his pelvis against hers, undoubtably leaving bruises on the skin hidden beneath her yellow dress.

Angel inhaled sharply when Buffy's hands dropped down to his backside, and three distinct scents of arousal greeted his senses -- his, hers and his Childe's. He'd completely forgotten that Spike was kneeling at his side, his hand pressing the blond's head to his thigh.

The scent of Spike's arousal inflamed the demon within Angel, who clamored loudly for its own mate. His soul and demon began warring against each other, causing Angel's face to flicker to its true countenance and back to human again, as he continued to pillage Buffy's mouth.

Angel felt Buffy rub her tongue against his sharp canine when his features twisted again, purposely cutting herself. The taste of Slayer's blood on his tongue threw his demon into control, but, because of the blood, the demon wanted her almost as much as it wanted its own mate.

A guttural snarl came from deep inside Angel when he tore his mouth from Buffy's. His fiercely glowing, golden eyes met her hazy, desire-filled ones for a brief second before he hoisted her up over his shoulder.

"Angel!" Buffy squeaked.

Angel turned and glared hatefully at Riley. "Mine," he spat, then stalked past the shocked soldier and up the stairs, leaving Spike still kneeling in the courtyard.

"Angel, put me down!" Buffy demanded, hammering on his backside.

At the top of the steps, Angel snapped his fingers and he heard Spike scramble to his feet. The dark-haired vampire didn't pause his stride, forcing his Childe to catch up on his own.

Cordelia stared incredulously at Angel as he tossed Buffy into the back seat of the convertible. "What are you doing?" she asked as Spike jumped over the edge of the car and into the back seat, settling down beside the prone Slayer.

"She's mine," Angel snapped at her, climbing into the passenger side. "Now drive."

Cordelia put the car into gear and drove.

"Bedroom, clothes, floor, now," Angel ordered in short, clipped tones as they entered the mansion. Spike practically scampered across the living room and disappeared down the hallway.

"Um, I'll be in the kitchen," Cordelia said, quickly vanishing as well.

The dark-haired vampire stopped in front of the fireplace, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face still twisted in its vampiric countenance. He fought himself for control, even though all he wanted to do was throw Buffy down on the floor and fuck her into unconsciousness.

"Okay, Angel, what's with the cavevamp routine?" Buffy asked from behind him.

Angel twitched at her voice. His demon was telling him just to take what he wanted then get back to the bedroom where its mate was waiting. Angel forcibly shoved his demon back enough so he could speak. When he did, his voice was low-pitched and strife with tension.

"When I broke our relationship off in the sewers that night, I hated myself even more than usual," he began. "We both knew that it had to happen sooner or later because of the damn curse. I did it the same night I made myself face the fact that I had to leave Sunnydale, because I knew if I didn't, I never would."

He turned around and saw her standing beside one of the couches, her fingers digging into the material on the back of it. He stared hungrily at her for a long moment before yanking his golden gaze away.

"On the night we destroyed the Mayor, a part of my soul died," he continued. "Ending our relationship was a piece of cake compared to walking away from you for the last time."

Angel started to pace in front of the fireplace, his movements jerky. "Then you came to LA and all my dreams of being able to love you properly came true, but not without a price that was too steep for the world to pay. I had to give you up again and even more of my soul died when that day was swallowed. A week later, Doyle sacrificed himself and it tore the rest of my soul to pieces. If Cordelia hadn't needed me and hadn't been there for me in return, I don't know what would have happened, but it probably wouldn't have been good."

Angel stopped pacing abruptly and faced her, his golden eyes glowing with longing and need. "I love you, Buffy. I've loved you since the moment I first saw you and every single second that I've had my soul since then. I want more than anything to be the man in your life, the man to make you happy, the man to make love to you for days and days until we're both too sated to move. You are my soulmate, Buffy. My soul's mate."

Pain and anger flashed across Buffy's features, but Angel didn't allow her to speak as he moved to her. "I know that you don't want to hear this, but I have to say it, Buffy. I've kept everything bottled up inside of me since the day that no one remembers. I need you to know how much I love you and how badly I miss you. I need you to know that I would do almost anything to be able to take you to my bed myself and show you how you make me feel."

Angel cupped her chin and stared down into her hazel eyes. "Buffy, I need you so much. Let me show you that, no matter what happened between us in the past and what happens in the future, I will always love you. Please, let me love you one last time that you'll remember with happiness."

"But, Riley...," Buffy said with pain in her voice. "I like him very, very much, Angel. He's what you told me to find, the one that I can have some of that normalcy that you wanted for me."

"And I still want you to have that," Angel said, jealousy boiling in him, but under control. "But I'm begging you, Buffy, let my soul love its mate one more time. Let me give you a memory that you can cherish with happiness instead of pain. I'm begging you, Buffy. Please, I'm begging you."

Buffy studied his golden eyes for several long moments before she breathlessly whispered, "Yes."

Angel released a deep growl and captured her mouth in a volatile kiss. His tongue plunged past her lips and teeth to tangle with hers, stroking and caressing and inciting passion. His fangs cut her soft lips and the taste of her blood made the demon within him howl in pleasure.

The dark-haired vampire dragged his mouth from hers and snarled, "Come."

He turned and strode purposefully out of the main room and down the hallway, shedding his coat on the way. He opened a door on the right side, walked inside and waited for Buffy to enter. His eyes raked over her as she crossed the threshold into the candle lit bedroom before he firmly closed the door and turned the key in the lock.

Angel yanked his shirt over his head and let it drop to the hard floor. Buffy was standing near the dark coverlet-covered double bed that was pushed up against the far wall, her posture indicating nervousness. Her eyes were wide with lust and confusion and fear as she looked between him and the naked, blond vampire kneeling on the floor in the center of the room.

Angel moved toward Buffy like the predator he was, his face losing its vampiric ridges. He patted the top of Spike's head as he passed the other vampire and murmured, "Good boy." He absently noted the small purr of Spike's response before the younger man was silent again.

"Angel, what-" Buffy began, but Angel swallowed her question with another powerful kiss.

His hands tangled into her hair to hold her as he ravaged her mouth. Her hands came up to lay on his bare chest and, with the feel of her warm touch against his cool skin, his entire body began to burn. He kissed her until all thoughts were driven from his mind and all he could do was feel.

Buffy gasped for breath when Angel tore his lips from hers to kiss and nip at her jaw and neck. His hands moved from her hair to her shoulders and his thumbs brushed briefly over her soft skin before he lifted the straps to her dress and dragged them down her arms. The yellow material slid off her body to the floor, pooling around her feet and leaving her nude save for a scrap of pale silk covering her womanhood and her shoes.

Angel dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands sliding around her back as his mouth moved over her heated flesh. He kissed down the front of her body, his half-slitted gaze drinking in the sight of her bare breasts. He licked a path to one of the small globes and captured a coral-colored nipple between his lips. The dark-haired vampire suckled the hard peak like a babe, causing her to gasp and clutch his shoulders.

The musky scent of her arousal grew stronger as he repeated his ministrations on her other breast. He glanced up her body and saw her head was lolled to one side, her eyes were half-closed and she was panting softly through her mouth. His body strained against taking her right then and there swiftly and without further foreplay.

Angel dragged his attention away from the thoughts of what it would feel like to be buried deep within her core. He focused instead on the taste of her salty skin as he laved a wet trail along her torso with his tongue, pausing to dip it in the shallow well of her navel while his hands pulled her panties down her legs.

He removed his mouth from her tanned flesh only long enough to turn her and push her gently down onto the bed. He discarded her of her last vestiges of clothing quickly, then draped her legs over his shoulders before returning to the task of physically loving her.

The dark-haired vampire caressed Buffy's inner thighs with his lips and teeth and tongue until she writhed on the bed and tugged at his hair. He allowed her to guide his face to her sex and was rewarded with a cry of pleasure when his tongue delved into her nest of dark curls.

Angel laved her silken folds with long, wet licks, purposely avoiding the pearl of flesh that throbbed for attention. He dropped his mouth down to her entry, tasting the honey that had already flooded her channel. He thrust his tongue in and out of her heat several times before suddenly moving up to latch onto her clitoris.

Buffy arched and yelled out in surprise and pleasure. Angel sucked hard on her nubbin, rapidly flicking his tongue back and forth over the small bundle of nerves. Her fingers tore at his hair and her thighs closed around his face in reaction, making Angel growl in satisfaction at her response.

Angel's fingers found her slick entry and he thrust two inside of her. She mewled and bucked up against his face as he curled them over and over, repeatedly hitting her most sensitive spot, as he continued to love her with his mouth.

"ANGEL!" Buffy screamed as she climaxed, he body rising almost completely off the bed. Angel held fast, drawing her orgasm out while she kicked his back with her heels and dug her fingernails into his scalp.

Abruptly, he released her and swooped up over her body, smashing his mouth down upon hers. He brutally kissed her, bruising and cutting her lips with his blunt teeth. One of his hands fumbled with the fastenings of his pants as he simultaneously tried to kick off his shoes. He fell awkwardly on top of her, almost crushing her with his weight.

With a snarl, Angel pulled away from her mouth, rolled off of her and yanked the remaining clothing from his body. Buffy gasped as he grabbed her and settled her beside him lengthwise on the bed, with his back almost touching the wall. His lips found hers again and he pressed her lower body to his, rubbing his throbbing erection against her coarse curls.

He broke from her mouth with a hiss as her fingers closed around his shaft. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the exquisite torture of her small strokes. He was panting, unable to control the unnecessary action, and he whimpered in the back of this throat when she brushed her thumb over the sensitive slit, wiping at the viscous fluid that formed there.

Angel opened his golden eyes and met Buffy's unwavering hazel gaze. His hand slid down her outer thigh and he pulled her leg up over his hip. He then wrapped his fingers over hers on his turgid member, helping her to stroke him. "Don't stop," he whispered hoarsely.

Buffy silently nodded and Angel pressed a brief kiss to her parted lips before he raised his head to look over her shoulder. He locked eyes with Spike, who was still kneeling on the floor. "Come," the dark-haired vampire said in a soft, commanding tone.

Spike rose, his lean, hard body unfurling gracefully like a feline, and he crossed over to the bed. Blue eyes filled with hunger and understanding held Angel's gaze and Spike joined them without hesitation. The blond vampire spooned himself to Buffy, pressing himself close to her back.

Angel moved his gaze from Spike back to Buffy. Her expression was one of confusion and slight mortification, and Angel didn't stop the smile that crossed his vampiric face. He was able to slide his human mask back into place and he gave her a long, loving look.

"I can't, remember?" Angel said quietly, his hand still helping her pump his swollen shaft. "But we can pretend."

Buffy gasped as Spike entered her, her eyes growing huge. Angel chuckled softly before he pressed his lips to hers again, initiating a slow, tender kiss. He could feel Spike bumping up against her, could hear the slick sound of his Childe's cock sliding in and out of Buffy's wet channel, and it sent a tingle down his spine.

Angel didn't know how long had passed when he felt time-roughened fingers brushing over his skin. The dark-haired vampire read the message the touch conveyed and he immediately stopped helping Buffy bring him pleasure, moving his hand away. The grip around his shaft loosened briefly before tightening again, as Spike's hand closed over Buffy's around his cock.

Angel broke the kiss and he opened his eyes to watch the emotions flit across Buffy's face. His fingers delved between her feminine folds, searching for and finding her tiny knob of flesh.

Buffy fell over into her second orgasm in silence and, almost simultaneously, Angel heard a short, animalistic whimper from behind her, the dual hands on his shaft freezing. Buffy's body shuddered hard in his partial embrace, both from her climax and from Spike's final, rapid thrusts.

It was only after they both stilled completely that Angel put his hand back over both of theirs and assisted them in bringing his own release. He came with a relieved sigh, spilling his cool essence onto the coverlet between Buffy and himself. His orgasm wasn't as powerful as it would have been if he'd been the one in the cradle of her thighs, but it wasn't his pleasure he wanted, it was hers.

"I love you," Angel whispered, brushing a gentle kiss on Buffy's forehead. The dark-haired vampire lifted his head and looked past his soul's mate to his demon's mate, meeting and holding the lazy blue eyes that looked back at him. "And you."

Shock spread across Spike's features and Angel's lips curled up in a smirk. He dropped his gaze back to Buffy and he received a tender smile from her. He felt his heart clench and he knew leaving her again would be painful, but it would be a bittersweet pain that he could live with.

A knock sounded at the door, followed closely by Cordelia's voice floating to the trio intimately entwined on the bed. "Angel, we have company of the really annoying kind. Get out here before I take your car and leave your undead butt in Sunnydale."

Angel waited until he heard Cordelia walk away before speaking. "This doesn't have to go any further than this room," he said, mainly to Buffy, but also to his Childe. "No one will ever know what happened between us unless we tell them... except for Cordelia, who seems to be omnipotent."

"Hate to point this out, mate, but we smell like we've been rutting," Spike said, scooting over to the other side of the bed.

"Rutting?" Buffy said, rolling onto her back in order to scowl at the blond vampire. "How very romantic of you."

Spike gave her a cocky grin. "How 'bout 'whoring' instead?"

"Only if I get to be Julia Roberts," Buffy replied.

"Does that make me Richard Gere?" Spike said.

"No, you're the frizzy-haired streetwalker with the hairy legs," Buffy said, reaching over to ruffle his blond hair.

"Hey, don't mess with my hair!" Spike's eyes widened comically. "Oh hell, I sound like the poof! Quick, stake me!"

Angel's smile grew as he watched the two loves of his unlife tease each other. Things may not turn out to be happily ever after, but this was close enough in his book.

Angel surveyed the occupants of the main room with a carefully neutral expression on his face. He was clean after an exceedingly-quick shower and once again dressed in the clothes he'd been wearing earlier. Buffy was currently cleaning up herself and Spike was left lounging in the bedroom with a satisfied smirk on his face that Angel would have to wipe off later.

"Where's Buffy?" Riley asked. Angel noted the tension that radiated from him, could smell the sandy-haired man's anger and fear, but was impressed by the way Riley didn't let any of his emotions cross his face.

"Buffy will be out in a second," Angel replied, moving to stand in front of the fireplace. Cordelia walked over and stood beside him, and he was touched by her obvious taking sides.

"And the hostile?" Riley questioned.

Angel's eyes narrowed slightly. "Spike is no longer any of your concern."

"Are you really taking him back to LA with you?" Willow asked from her seat on the couch. She and Anya were the only two seated and who seemed to be relaxed. Xander was standing behind the couch wearing his normal expression of contempt for the vampire.

"Yes, I am," Angel replied.

"I can't let you do that," Riley said. "Hostile 17 is property of the US Government under section 328-dash-58-dash-"

"Hostile 17 no longer exists to you," Angel interrupted, his voice hard. "And shouldn't you be worried about Buffy rather than a vampire who can't harm humans?"

"I know Buffy can take care of herself," Riley said, his own voice unwavering and unemotional, as if he were making a report. "I also know that if she doesn't come out here in the next five minutes, I will rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands. The only reason I haven't done so already is because I've been told you're a different type of bloodsucking scum and Buffy would be hurt if I used your eyeballs to play ping-pong."

"I like him," Cordelia abruptly stated. "Not too many humans have the cahones to stand up to Angel when he's all growly. Most just wet their shorts and act like Xander."

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed, affronted.

Angel hated, hated, hated to admit it, but Riley's answer was exactly what he would have answered in a similar situation... although he would have gone with using the eyeballs for golf. The kid was human, too, so he couldn't kill him on the pretense of evil. And why couldn't Buffy pick someone who was butt-ugly instead of actually being cute, in a wholesome, clean-cut, white bread kind of way? If he didn't like his men lean and hard, Riley wouldn't be that awful of a choice in partners.

Oh god, what was he thinking? Cordelia had to have slipped him some Viagra in his blood.

Angel swallowed the bitter pill of honesty and took a step towards Riley with his hand extended. "You'll do," he practically choked out.

Riley looked at Angel's hand warily for a moment, then accepted the handshake. "I know I will."

And the little bugger's a cocky one, too, Angel thought, then mentally grimaced. Great, not even two full days spent in Spike's company and he was already thinking in cockney slang. The younger vampire was going to have to be smacked around a bit for that.

"Hi, uh, guys," Buffy said as she entered the room. She looked between Riley, Angel and their clasped hands, a questioning look on her face.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Riley asked, immediately pulling his hand from Angel's and moving quickly to her side.

Buffy smiled up at him. "I'm fine, Riley."

Angel felt a hand encircle his wrist and he looked over to see Cordelia at his side. "Just checking for stakes," she whispered to him. "I can't afford to have my paycheck go poof because your ex found herself a hottie."

Angel's lips turned up in a genuine smile and he pulled her hand from his wrist only to entwine his fingers with hers instead. "We don't want that," his eyes crinkled with humor, "because then Wesley would be in charge."

Cordelia visibly shuddered, but did not pull her hand from his. "Thanks a lot. Now I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."

The dark-haired vampire chuckled softly and squeezed her fingers, then looked back over at Buffy. An ache filled his heart at how she looked as she spoke with Riley -- happy.

Buffy turned her eyes to him and Angel could see that she wanted to leave, but wouldn't unless things were going to be okay with him. Angel nodded slightly, ignoring the tightness in his throat and the burning behind his eyes.

"Well, gang, we'd better go," Buffy said, addressing her friends. "I know Angel wants to leave for LA before the sun comes up and he still has to hogtie Spike for the trip."

Angel held fast to Cordelia's hand as their former friends said goodbye and made their way out of the mansion. He closed his eyes as the door closed behind them, the sound the door made a punctuation to the finality of his time in Sunnydale.

He felt her before he heard her footsteps. He reopened his eyes, turned to the broken garden windows and released Cordelia's hand as Buffy came rushing back into the mansion.

Angel caught Buffy up in a tight hug, purposely inhaling her unique scent underlined with the faint smell of sex. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and feel the wetness of her tears against his cheek... or were those his own?

"Goodbye, Angel," Buffy whispered in a choked voice.

Angel released her enough to look down at her beautiful, tear-streaked face. "Be careful with this Initiative, okay?" he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "There's too much still unknown about them to label them as good guys."

"I will," Buffy said. "You be careful, too. And don't forget Spike can still hurt demons."

"I won't," Angel said. He leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss on her forehead. "Goodbye, Buffy."

Buffy gave him a trembling smile after he released her, then turned and headed back towards the garden doors. She paused just past the threshold and looked back at him. "I'll never forget," she told him.

Then, she was gone.

Angel didn't move until he smelled the blood caused by his fingernails digging into his palms. There was no way Buffy could have known her words meant more to him than an 'I love you.' He took a deep, shaky, purposeful breath and let it out slowly, wondering if he was really as stupid as he felt for letting her go.

"Angel." Cordelia walked over to the dark-haired vampire and took his hand again, despite the blood. She met his eyes, and Angel could see the concern and familial love shining in her dark gaze. "Let's go home."

"Yeah," Angel agreed. "Let's go home."

"It does not!" Spike jabbed his finger at the line in the book on the desk. "This word right here means we have to decapitate the bugger, not caffeinate 'im!"

Angel looked up from the sword his was sharpening with a frown. "We kill the Tolosh with coffee?"

"I suppose if it were a cup of Cordelia's coffee," Wesley said, not looking up from the language text in his hands.

Angel burst out laughing at the deadpanned comment and Spike chuckled as well. It was a good thing Cordelia had an audition, or Wesley would have joined the ranks of the dead in the room.

"Here, Spike, look." Wesley stood close to the blond vampire as he pointed to the book on the desk. "The word has a subjective attached to it. It is specifically telling us not to decapitate the demon."

"Hey, which one of us speaks Toli and which one doesn't?" Spike slapped his hand down on the book beside Wesley's pointing finger. "We cut off his head, he dies, and then I can go back to watching The Young Ones."

"If you cut off his head, he's going to be rather upset with you," Wesley said.

"I'd be upset, too, if someone cut my head off," Angel commented as he stood and twirled the sword in his hand. He slid it into the sheath and looked expectantly at the other two. "So, are we going to kill this demon or not?"

"Your impatience is showing, mate," Spike said. "What happened to my Sire who planned everything to death?"

"You happened,"Angel replied simply. The broad, cocky grin he received from the blond vampire made him roll his eyes. "Can we just go kill something?"

"Why haven't you three left to go kill that demon yet?" Cordelia asked with irritation as she sailed into the office, leaving the door open behind her. "My mind-numbing visions are not just for entertainment, people."

"We're working on it," Angel said. "How was the audition?"

"Don't even get me started," Cordelia said, dropping down onto the couch. She flipped through the mail as she went on. "There were only, like, five hundred other people and the casting director only showed interest in the sluts with their boobs popping out of their tops..."

"Sounds like my kind of bloke," Spike commented.

"I thought Angel was your kind of guy."

Angel's eyes shot to the open doorway and he felt his heart swell to bursting proportions. "Buffy."

Buffy, wearing the same yellow dress she'd worn that day all those years ago, smiled lovingly at him. "Hello, Angel. Hi, guys."

"Hello, Buffy," Wesley greeted cordially. "How are you?"

"I'll be better after I get a hug," Buffy replied with a wink to Angel.

"How about after a fu-"

"Shut up, Spike," Angel growled as he moved towards Buffy. Without pause, he scooped Buffy up over his shoulder and walked out of the offices into the lobby of the building.

Buffy was laughing as he set her on her feet again. "Still using the cavevamp routine, I see."

"Best way to pick up women," Angel said, deadpan. Buffy giggled again and he smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Riley has an interview at Newby Lewis," Buffy replied. "I thought I'd come by and say hello while we were here."

'Well, I'm glad you did," Angel said honestly, even though the green-eyed monster was rearing its ugly head inside of him. He'd long ago learned to live with the jealousy and the ache that came because Buffy wasn't only his, and he would stake himself before he'd begrudge her the happiness that she'd found with Riley.

Being cursed with a conscious really sucked. Being cursed sucked, period.

"So, big demon on the warpath?" Buffy asked, gesturing towards the office.

"Tolosh demon," Angel answered, glancing through the windows into the office. Spike was pacing and gesturing wildly while Wesley continually shook his head. "We haven't quite figured out how to kill it yet."

"Do you need some help?"

"No, that's okay, we can handle it. Spike's been spoiling for a good fight," Angel said. He didn't mention that the reminder that Buffy belonged to someone else would make himself into a veritable killing machine.

"Buffy." Riley entered the building and Angel found himself straightening to his full height. The sandy-haired man nodded politely to the vampire, but his attention was on Buffy. "If we're going to meet your father for dinner, we have to get going."

"Okay," Buffy said. She reached out and took Angel's hand, squeezing it warmly. "We're staying at the Hilton on Broadway if you need any help."

Angel nodded. "Enjoy your dinner."

"We will," Buffy said. She gave him a final smile, released his hand and walked back out of his life once again.

Angel stood in the lobby for several long moments before he sighed and returned to the office. Cordelia gave him a concerned look and he shook his head, indicating he was all right -- which he would be, once he kicked some demon ass, as his unruly Childe was fond of saying.

"You know, I would like to kill this demon sometime before the sun comes up," Angel said, picking up his sword from where he laid it when Buffy arrived.

"Don't blame me, blame the ponce," Spike said, gesturing to Wesley. "He's got a stick shoved so far up his arse, it pierced the part of his brain that knows I'm right."

"Did you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Angel asked the blond vampire.

"Nope," Spike shot him a lascivious grin, "only you, mate."

"Ah. Aha." Wesley drew the two immortals' attention. "You have to decapitate the demon twice."

"He's got two heads?" Spike asked. He quickly flipped through the demon text on the desk until he found an etching. "It looks like he's only got one to me, pet."

Wesley cleared his throat as a blush stole over his cheeks. "The, er, second one is in his-his trousers."

"Well, we'll leave that bit of choppin' to Angel," Spike said, picking up a sword and putting it on his shoulder. "He can pretend it's solderboy's prick."

"You know, Spike," Angel said, as he lead the way out the door. "I think I really, really like that idea."

The End

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