Part 20

Cordelia was still rocking herself on the couch, small mutters of 'Ewww...' emerging from her lips every few seconds, when the hastily-dressed witch and vampire finally walked back into the lobby through the courtyard doors. She covered her eyes with her hands, not wanting to have to look at them. "You have a room," she murmured unhappily, "Why can't you use it?" Her skin crawled, even as she tried to erase the memory of Willow and Angel going at it in the sunny... "Hey!" she cried, finally understanding what had thrown her so much, "You're human again!"

The wide-eyed startled look on her friend's face was enough to send Willow into peals of laughter, although... "Again?" she gasped, around one more chuckle, "What do you mean 'again'?"

"The lost day, love," Angel murmured softly against his Mate's ear, "I told you about that..." His face lit up in a smile when she nodded and leaned against him. "And no, I'm not human, Cordy."

"But the sun?" the Seer demanded, jumping up from the couch, "How were you... Ohhh. A *spell*. Right." She frowned slightly, her brow furrowing. "But I so didn't need to see you two all... naked again. It'll probably take *years* of therapy just to make me normal again! I mean, geez!"

Fred grinned widely, listening to her friend going on and on. If nothing else, she figured the shock to Cordelia's system would at least make the girl forget about her absence the night before, and that was a *good* thing. Knowing Cordy, if she ever found out about what she'd really been doing, and who with? Well, after the other brunette finished thinking she was possessed, she'd probably set about trying to play matchmaker, and that would be *bad*. Lorne wasn't interested in anything more than what they'd already done, but that didn't mean she wanted to have to explain that to her friends. She wouldn't be able to bear their pity... or their disgust.

Angel's smile faded slightly as he noticed the suddenly sad, wistful expression on Fred's face, and he let go of his Mate, leaving her to try calming Cordelia. He hoped she'd be successful, too, because he didn't really like the thought of Cordy in therapy, especially since the girl would find some way to make it a work expense. Besides, it wasn't like his Seer had ever been 'normal' in the first place. "You okay?" he asked Fred softly, stopping beside her. He frowned slightly, nostrils flaring, when she tossed her hair over her shoulder. He knew that smell. He couldn't quite identify it as yet, but it'd come to him. "You look... tired."

Fred sighed and nodded. "I... I am," she admitted, before repeating her lie about the movies.

His eyes narrowed, but he made himself act like he accepted her excuse. He knew she was lying. It was obvious to him, just from the increase in her heart rate. Still, she was Fred, after all; she was entitled to have her secrets, especially since he was entirely sure that she'd tell the truth if it had anything to do with their efforts. It puzzled him, though, and he promised himself to get Willow on it. His Mate could pull a secret from a stone, if she set her mind to it. That decided, his eyes flew back to her smallish, warm shape, and he sent one sharp bolt of desire and need to her through their link. Cordelia had interrupted them, after all, and he-- for one-- wasn't anywhere near finished. They'd just have to take their tryst up to the roof if they wanted sunlight. And they *did* want the sun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Charles Gunn sat completely still on the ragged couch in the abandoned warehouse his group still inhabited. They could have moved into nicer digs, he knew, but... somehow, the dusty, grimy building seemed to help his people focus on the fight they were still engaged in. The fight to reclaim at least their own part of LA from the demons and vampires who continued trying to take it over. And their work had been going well lately; maybe too well, because they'd recently been targeted by Wolfram & Hart, among other entities. Still, his ins with the law firm had given them a rare advantage, and they hadn't lost anyone for almost two months. On the one hand, that was a good thing, because the more people they had, the better their chances, but on the other? Well, on the other, some of his group had started to act like they were as immortal as the vamps they dusted. Which wasn't all that immortal, after all, he reminded himself. Now, if he could only make *them* see that. "Look, bro," he finally said, breaking into his second's rambling tirade, "You got some good ideas, but the way you're putting it together? Not gonna work. You're gonna end up dead or worse, and you *know* it!"

The tall, more slightly built black man shook his head angrily. "You're wrong, G," he insisted. "I mean, look around you! We've gotten really good lately. Hell, the other cells around here are looking to *us* now! We're golden, man!"

Gunn rubbed at his bald head in annoyance, his face settling into harsh, unforgiving lines as he stood. "Okay, first off, Rondell, we're not a 'cell'. *Terrorists* have cells. Second? 'Golden' isn't a good thing. Golden means we're getting too sure of ourselves. You, of all people, should know that! Jesus, what are you thinking! We're not out there apprehending muggers, you know! We're stopping *evil*; hoping to keep it from gaining a foothold in *our* world!" His brown eyes flashed dangerously, and he moved closer to his second in command, glaring hotly at him. "You want to think this is some kind of a game? Fine, man. But don't bring the rest of our people down with you, because it's *not* a game. There are no rules; no time-outs, here. You don't rack up points for almost winning. You *die*." He sighed when he saw Rondell didn't get what he was saying. "Ron. Dude. I'm sorry, but... I can't leave you in charge of things anymore. You're gonna get everyone killed."

Rondell stared at his former best friend, shock and fury warring in his eyes until finally, he laughed bitterly. "You really think you can just... walk in here, and drop a few words... say I'm not in charge? Shit, Gunn, I've *been* in charge since before that whole zombie-cop thing! I only let you think you had a place here 'cause I didn't want to hurt your feelings, man!" His eyes hardened, and he stared coldly at the young man who'd formed them into a unit, back in the early days. "You haven't been here for over a year. Not really. Someone needed to take over. This is *my* group now. You're not welcome."

Gunn's eyes were wide and shocked as he was escorted from the building by the people who had once been *his*. They'd followed him willingly; hell, they'd looked to him like a God, and now...? Now, they'd found a different God to follow. He walked slowly-- dazed-- to his truck, and climbed up into the cab. It was all wasted now. None of it mattered. His careful infiltration of Wolfram & Hart, his efforts on behalf of the souled vampire, his weeks and months of careful misinformation... none of it meant anything. He'd lost his home, and thanks to his own need to keep his actions a secret, his people were going to die.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He'd been stalking around his rooms for almost three hours, trying to figure out what he could say to make Freddie understand, but so far, he hadn't had any luck. He understood that she was frightened; that she had to be feeling things she didn't have any experience with, but so was *he*, damn it! Every single part of him was terrified, and lost, and Gods, he was so fucking *lonely* all of a sudden. And it was *her* *fault*!

She'd come to him, so very lost herself, and... somehow, in the course of one perfect night, she'd made herself entirely necessary to his continued existence!

He flung himself down on his couch and closed his eyes, picturing her there, behind his lids. His mind flipped through every memory he had of her, and... "Oh, shit..." he groaned, one claw-tipped hand rising to cover his face. It wasn't just that one night, he realized. No, whatever it was that was going on between him and the lovely human girl, it had started in Pylea, and... even if she hadn't moved on him like she'd done, they would have ended up in that same place, eventually. Of course, if he'd been smart, and more of a man, he would have made her wait.

If he hadn't taken what she'd so generously offered, then... when they had-- after a while-- gotten to the stage they'd already passed, she wouldn't have left like she did. She would have known better, and... "Oh, shit," he said again, "This is all my fault..."

Still, that didn't necessarily mean it was hopeless; it just meant that... he couldn't *tell* her anything to make her understand. He had to *show* her, and that meant...

He sighed again and reached for the yellow pages, flipping to the 'F' section. There had to be a florist somewhere in LA who could deliver two dozen roses in the next hour; he just had to find them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He almost growled when the phone rang, but he hadn't really been watching Ricki Lake, anyway. "Get that, would you, pet?" he called in the general direction of the stairs. He frowned at the silence that answered him before remembering that the Niblet had gone across the street to do homework with her latest friend. A sigh slipped from him as he picked up the incessantly ringing phone.

"What?" he demanded, in his usual greeting, only to furrow his brow at the barely familiar voice on the other end of the line. "No," he finally said, "I can't... But Dawn... Yeah, I *could* do it, but why should I?" He sighed again, silently, even as he reconciled himself to the truth. He *would* do what the man on the phone was asking, if only because Red was the only one who'd ever seemed to give a shit about him, other than the Watcher, and that was only since he'd started looking after Dawny. "Fine, Wussy," he cut in, tired of listing to the other Englishman's whining, "I'll bring it. I have to get Ripper to watch Dawn, but that's what you gits do, right? You watch." His lips stretched into a wide smile, but he kept his voice serious as he continued. "I'll get it from her place, and leave just after sunset. Expect me by midnight."

Spike hung up the phone without waiting for a response, and immediately picked it up again. "Ripper," he said, after the number he dialed was answered, "I have to go to LA. Something for the Pouf. You'll take care of li'l bit, right?" His next sigh was one of pure relief. "Good. Then I'll see you in a day or two. Oh, and try to keep her out of the Ben & Jerry's, or she'll be busting out spots and blaming you for it. Later, Watcher."

He replaced the receiver in its cradle and got up, walking into the kitchen, where he searched anxiously through the 'miscellaneous' drawer until he found the spare keys to the apartment Red had shared with the useless blonde bint. Those found, he slipped them into his pocket and headed up the stairs. He wasn't sure of how long he'd have to stay in LA, so he figured he should pack a few things.

Once his CDs, carton of Marlboros, and two fifths of Johnnie Walker Black were squirreled away safely in his bag, he returned to the living room, and tried to focus on the transvestites on the screen of the television. It wasn't easy, what with the fact that he was going to have to see the first love of the girl *he'd* loved, and the fact that that ponce also happened to be his estranged Sire.

"What in the hell does Wussy want with Red's rat, anyway?" It was a question he wasn't entirely sure he wanted the answer to.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Well, Lilah decided, whatever the redheaded witch had done, it was definitely impressive. None of the firm's sorcerers could figure a way around it. All of which led to one inescapable conclusion. Her eyes went to the cloaked form of one of the senior partners, and she swallowed hard. It was now or never, she told herself. Either she proved-- once and for all-- that she really *was* in charge, or she showed that she didn't have what it took, and the latter wasn't really an option. Not if she wanted to go on breathing, anyway.

"Her powers can't be released," she said evenly, "And that makes her not only a liability, but a drain on our resources. I recommend terminating Tara's contract immediately." The nod she received in response shored up her courage, and she forced herself to continue, hoping she wasn't making a terrible mistake. "I *also* recommend abandoning our plans for the souled vampire. He's claimed his Mate, and from what I've been given to understand, his entire organization is aware of our interest. They'll be on their guard for a while. I think it would be best if we ignored them as much as possible for the present. We can formulate other plans at a later date, when they've relaxed somewhat. Until then, we'd just be throwing away time and resources if we continued."

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she was subjected to a kind of scrutiny that made her skin crawl, and she barely retained her composure when the cloaked figure nodded again at length. She didn't relax, or fall into her chair, until her 'visitor' melted into the burned circle on the floor of her office, but once she did, she sighed deeply in relief. Yet again, she'd managed to dodge a bullet with her name on it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wes wasn't entirely pleased with the solution he'd come up with, but he honestly couldn't see any other possibility. No, there was just no way they could find a powerful witch, convince him or her to move to the Hellmouth, *and* train said witch in all the things he or she would have to know. Not in the amount of time they had.

What they needed was someone who was *already* familiar with the things that went bump in the night, and that person *had* to have ties to Sunnydale. He'd been lucky to recall something Buffy had once said in passing, about a girl-- Annie, he thought her name was-- who'd somehow managed to turn herself into a rat. He'd been even more fortunate to have remembered that Willow had taken on the care and feeding of said rat while trying to find a way to undo the spell.

That she hadn't had any luck yet was beside the point. Any spell could be undone eventually; it was just a matter of proper research, and if there was one thing Wesley Windham-Pryce excelled at, it was *research*. It might take him a little while, but he was fairly confident that he'd figure out how to give the girl back her *human* form.

Yes, he told himself, Annie was definitely the witch for the job. If only he hadn't had to get *Spike* to bring her. He had a feeling that things might get ugly between the chipped vampire and the souled one, but... He didn't have much choice, after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He wrapped his arms more firmly around his Mate's smallish body as they watched the sun setting over the ocean. Not that they could actually *see* the ocean from the roof of the hotel, but they knew it was there. His eyes glittered golden for a moment, and he leaned down, licking gently at the reddish scar on his Willow's neck. "Thank you, love," he murmured against her skin, a slight shudder racing through him when she leaned more fully against him.

"Mmmm..." she sighed softly, one hand rising to slip behind his neck. "You know," she said, after a moment, "I could get used to this whole 'Angel in the sunlight' thing... Once that sunburn of yours fades, anyway." She giggled slightly as his reddened skin warmed her neck. "I don't know why I assumed you'd be immune to that, but..."

Angel laughed softly. "Well, I guess I did, too, which isn't really bright if you think about it. I mean, if the sun made me burst into flames before, why wouldn't it burn me for having the nerve to stand out in it, even while protected by your sweet soul?" His lips returned to his mark, blunt teeth scraping lightly at it.

Willow shivered at the sensation before chuckling quietly. "You're entirely insatiable, aren't you?" she teased, arching her neck against his mouth. She laughed again when he nodded slightly, his soft moan sending lush, wild tremors down their link. "We should go inside," she finally sighed.

The vampire sighed in turn, almost unwilling to abandon the dusk-lit cityscape, but... "Yeah. We should," he admitted. Besides, the sunburn had warmed his flesh nicely; he thought it might be a nice surprise for her to feel him that way. And he was burned all over. A sly smile crossed his lips, even as he took her hand and led her to the roof door. He'd heard that this sort of burn could be a little it painful; he hoped so. A little pain wasn't a bad thing... not at all.
 

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