Part 22
He'd almost thought he was losing his mind when he first started to feel it, but the sensation kept getting stronger and stronger, until his entire body was nearly shaking with it. His Mate had cleared it up for him, though, by going into much greater detail on the things that had happened in Sunnydale before she'd left. He still couldn't figure out why his most troublesome childe would be paying an unannounced visit, especially considering what had happened the *last* time, but... at least he knew he *was* coming. The soul was irrevocably bound to the demon, after all; it wasn't like Angel was unwilling to acknowledge the connection to his boy any more.
Still, it rankled that Willow thought the bleached blond would respond better to meeting with her alone before the boy found out about the change in his Sire's... status. The fact that her reasoning was entirely sound didn't help any, either.
It was a fact, none the less, though, and Angel sighed angrily in his chair. He knew, deep down, that his Mate felt nothing but an odd sense of friendship for Spike, but still... wanting to meet with him alone just... No, he reminded himself, his Willow was his childe's friend; probably always would be. That relationship would only grow stronger now that she was-- to all intents and purposes-- even *more* attached to him than the blond vampire was, himself. And maybe that was a *good* thing.
The dark-haired vamp sighed once more, and forced himself to relax. He might not entirely trust his favoured childe, but he definitely trusted his Mate. She would never betray him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was scaring her. He was scaring her, and what was worse was that... he knew it. Still, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes from glowing wildly as he looked at her. "No," he said intently, yet again, "You can't go and not come back. You have to *see* that, Fred!" His entire body was far too tense, but that was the least of his concerns at that particular moment, because... "After what just happened here, you..." He shook his head wildly. "You can't possibly think that it's *okay* for you to go back to Cordelia's! Not to *stay*!"
Her eyes were wide, her heart racing wildly. He was acting so... not Lorne-ish! She was only a little frightened, though, because the majority of everything inside her was screaming that this was *one* demon who would never hurt her. Still, seeing him so... un-Lorne-y... was making her feel kind of... aroused, yet cautious. He was acting like he might truly *care* for her, and if that was so, then... "Why?" she demanded, annoyed with the tentative tone of her own voice. "*Why* can't I?" That was better, she thought. Much more like a 'take control' kind of gal. "I mean, that's where I *live*, isn't it?" She blinked a few times at his suddenly soft reply, and leaned forward, curiosity flooding through her. "What?" she asked softly, "I didn't quite hear that... What did you say?"
His eyes closed for just a moment, and he tried to think of something to respond with, but... He'd never been good at prevaricating, and that hadn't changed, even in the five years he'd lived in Los Angeles. He wasn't completely sure of what her response to his actual words would be, though, so he shrugged and decided to just... lay it out for her. "No." he said seriously, finally opening his eyes and staring at the floor between her feet, "That's *not* where you live. Or it shouldn't be, anyway." It was her gasp that drew his eyes to her face, mostly because he could tell if it was a 'there's no *way*' sound, or a 'thank you, Gods' one. Her tightly closed eyes didn't give him much to go on, though. Still, he'd said enough that being quiet at that point would just make things worse, so... "I..." he began, stepping closer to the girl who filled his every sense with longing and need, "You should live *here*, Freddie. You should be with *me*."
Her heart was pounding even faster and harder, but she couldn't let herself make that kind of a decision on the spur of the moment, especially when she wasn't sure that *he* wasn't just... reacting to what had happened a little while earlier. Oh, she wanted him, all right. Wanted to take him up on his offer-- well, demand-- but... No. Her eyes opened, and she almost changed her mind at the look of heart-rending need in his red gaze, but... No, she told herself again. Still, how could she make it clear to him that even though she wasn't prepared to live with him-- *yet*-- she still *needed* him? It wasn't a situation she had any experience with, and she swallowed hard as the silence dragged on, and on, and on.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was expecting to be somewhat uncomfortable as he climbed from his car and approached the doors to the lobby of the Hyperion. His Sire lived there, after all, and the poncy git hadn't been too pleased to see him the last time he'd come calling. That might have had something to do with the whole 'torturing to a permanent, dusty death' scenario, but that didn't change anything. No, he was expecting to be a bit uncomfortable. He *wasn't* expecting to be welcomed like a conquering hero.
Of course, that might not have been the intention in having the dead blonde witch laying across the doorstep, but... as he'd once told the scooby gang, he was fairly certain he could eat someone if they were already dead.
He had no illusions that his Sire or Red had left the nasty bint there for him, but... whoever had was obviously trying to make trouble for those who resided in the hotel, and... that was something Spike couldn't allow. The little redhead had been the closest thing he'd had to a friend in longer than he cared to remember, and if she loved his Sire...? Well, then his disgusting protective impulse would have to stretch to cover the prick, as well.
He slowly placed the cage-- and it's confined rat-- on the cement beside the doors, and gathered the body of Red's former lover into his arms. She would fit nicely into the trunk of the car until he could find somewhere else to dump her. That didn't stop him from having a taste of her, of course, but... Her blood was bitter; there was nothing sweet or pure about it. He grimaced in repulsion as he slammed the boot closed and turned back to the large building. "Oh, bloody hell," he said softly, "Guess I don't have any choice."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So they've cut you out," Wesley said, his brow slightly furrowed as he stared at his friend. He felt sorry for Gunn, of course, but... "Maybe it's for the best," he said, hoping the younger man wouldn't take it the wrong way. "I mean, you've been torn between your duties to them and to the Agency. It... it can't have been easy."
Gunn forced himself to think about what Wes was saying, and finally nodded, sorrow and a slight sense of anger warring within him. "I know," he said after a moment, "And that's part of the problem. I feel kind of... relieved. Does that make me a bad person? That I don't feel worse about this? They're gonna get themselves killed, and..." He sighed, running one big hand over his smooth head, not sure of what else to say.
The englishman nodded his understanding. "No," he said, after thinking a bit, "It doesn't make you bad. You tried, Gunn. You tried to tell them where they're heading, but they wouldn't listen. You didn't want to make a choice, which I understand-- really, I do-- but... they've taken it out of your hands, haven't they? Whatever happens to them now... Well, it won't be your fault. Or your responsibility."
The young black man nodded in turn, his friend's words making him feel just a little better. Still, he hadn't told Wes about the information he'd been passing on to his former crew, and without that added knowledge? Well, his old group would be gone sooner, rather than later. It was a cross he'd just have to bear silently. "Yeah," he finally said. "So," he went on, pushing the dark thoughts from his mind, "What's this about a rat?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He could smell his Sire all over the witch as soon as he stepped through the doors. A small, almost wistful smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and he met the girl's green eyes, holding the cage out in front of him. "One rat, delivered safely by yours truly," he announced, wondering at the look of confusion on her face.
Willow could have laughed out loud, just from the sheer pleasure of seeing him again. Still, why in the *hell* had he brought... "Yeah... and that's just... peachy," she grinned, her eyes twinkling merrily as she ran across the large rug and hugged him hard. She giggled when his arms closed around her, and she felt the hard edge of the cage against her back. She pulled away after a minute or two, and smiled up into his blue eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Spike," she said, her voice light, "Because I'm really glad to see you, but... why are you here?"
"Wussy said you needed your rat." he told her, his brow furrowed. "Said I had to bring it here as soon as possible." She still looked confused, and he groaned quietly. This was just... "Great," he nearly snarled. "Prissy little bastard tells me to come here-- to my Sire's place!-- and nobody *knows* about it?" He stepped away from the girl, and placed the cage carefully on the floor before he began to pace. "He invites me to Angel's home. Makes me think the bloody wanker's fine with it. And all the time, sodding Angel has no *idea*! Probably thinks I'm here to attack him again." His steps grew swifter, and more angry, as he went on. "Bloody *fucking* hell! Surprised the broody git didn't greet me with a nice thick *stake*! Sodding Wussy's trying to get me killed!" It was only the sudden realization that Willow was laughing at him that forced him to calm down slightly. "What?" he demanded, halting his steps in front of the girl, "What's so bloody funny, Red?"
She honestly had no idea of why Wesley thought she needed the Amy-rat, but she was glad he'd had Spike bring it to her. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten about her ensorcelled friend. Of course, she'd grown so used to think of the girl *as* a rat, after all the time that had passed, that she supposed it was understandable. Perhaps not *forgivable*, but... understandable. Still, seeing Spike being all... *Spike*-ish was both a relief and a happy surprise, and his rambling rant against the former Watcher was entirely too amusing. "I... I'm sorry," she chortled, her eyes tearing slightly, "It's just... Gods, it's so *good* to see you like this!" She flung her arms around him again, and hugged him tight. "And don't worry about Angel," she added, pulling away, "He knows you're my friend; he won't stake you, although... You might want to apologize for letting that creep Marcus torture him. I mean... hot pokers, Spike? Really!"
Apparently the great pouf had told the girl everything, but that wasn't as surprising as the fact that she seemed to be fine with the things he'd had done to her Mate. Still, "Like he didn't deserve it, after the way he treated me when I was in that chair," he grumbled. "Hell, as far as *I'm* concerned, he got off *easy*." It was the voice coming from the top of the main staircase that stopped his words cold. His eyes flew to the tall, dark-haired vampire, and he swallowed hard at what he saw in his eyes. "Sire..." he whispered.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He'd never been the patient sort; not even as a human. That hadn't changed much, regardless of the way he'd pretended when he'd been all 'soul in control'. His room was boring without his Mate, he hadn't been able to concentrate on reading, or much of anything else, and when he felt his boy-- his favoured, most troublesome childe-- inside the hotel, he'd only been able to force himself to stay still for a few minutes.
Finally, he stood and headed for the door. His Willow would understand, he was sure. And even if she didn't, she'd forgive him, he knew. He stood at the top of the stairs, grinning at his childe's angry tirade, and that grin only grew wider when he heard what Spike had to say about the 'quality time' they'd spent with the torturing vampire. Spike was right, after all, he admitted to himself. He *had* gotten off easy.
He didn't particularly want to admit it, but then again, he didn't have much of a choice. Not with his Mate down there, anyway. So, "Maybe so," he said, his voice echoing slightly through the cavernous lobby, "But don't think that means you can do it again, boy." He started down the stairs, chuckling slightly at his childe's whispered 'Sire', and crossed the floor to his witch's side. His arm wrapped lightly around her waist, even as he nodded to the bleached blond. He'd known the boy would be able to sense the difference in him, but it was still nice to be proven right. "So," he said, heartily amused by the stunned gaze Spike wore, "You brought us a rat. Like we don't have enough of those in LA already?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorne sighed softly as he closed the door behind the bar. He really hadn't wanted to let her go, but... she was right. It *was* too soon. Much as everything within him was crying out that Fred belonged with *him*, he couldn't expect her to just... jump in. It wasn't fair to her, especially after all the time she'd spent trapped in Pylea. She was finally managing to accept the fact that she was home; it wasn't right that he ask her to adjust her view yet again.
No, he told himself, turning towards the bar, he had to give her some time. Time to realize that whatever it was they were becoming to each other-- had *already* become-- wasn't going to go away. That he would still want her, even if she *didn't* make him crazy with her soft, pale human body.
Still, he wasn't going to give her too *much* time; wasn't going to let her think too hard about it, because... He was afraid that if she did, she might see just how much he didn't deserve her. So, he told himself, ignoring the knowing looks from the patrons in his bar as he mixed himself a drink, they'd have to *date*.
He groaned softly, staring into his glass. "Date," he said quietly to himself, "How the *hell* do humans *date*..." He'd have to look into it.
But at least he'd managed to help her with that computer disk. That had to have earned him some points with her. Maybe... maybe she was pleased enough about that to tell her friends about them? He hoped so, because he had no *idea* of whether he'd be able to pretend indifference the next time she showed up with them all in tow. He doubted it, somehow... she was too much a part of him already.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He had no idea of what had happened to make Angelus into Angelus. Not the bastardy prick he'd been the last time, either, but... the Angelus he remembered from the early days. He had a feeling it had something to do with the smallish redhead, though. Just seeing them together was... astounding. They were actually *right* together; they fit in a way he would never have believed possible for a vampire and a human. But that wasn't the point at the moment. He shook his head, amazed by what Red had been telling him. "So your rat is really a girl."
Willow nodded from her spot on Angel's lap, and leaned back a bit harder against his broad chest. "Her name is Amy," she repeated, "And she's a witch, Spike."
"Duh," Angel murmured, his lips brushing his girl's ear. He chuckled, low and dark, when she shivered slightly at the sensation.
Spike rolled his eyes, unused to the sight of his Sire acting less than guilt-ridden and regretful. Still, it was a vast improvement over the blighter who'd had nothing but contempt for him. "Doesn't explain why the prissy little git wanted me to bring her here, though." That was still the question of the day as far as *he* was concerned.
Angel nodded slightly, meeting his childe's blue eyes. Those eyes were the reason he'd pulled the dying William from Dru's arms and turned him himself. "I'm sure he'll tell us when he gets here, Spike," he said calmingly. He glanced at the clock behind the front desk, and smiled again. "Which should be any minute, now..."
Willow laughed softly, thoroughly amused by the look on the blond's face whenever he met his Sire's gaze. She was still chuckling when the lobby doors opened, admitting a somewhat flustered Fred. "Hey," she greeted, only to find herself suddenly sitting on the couch alone,while her Mate dashed across the floor.
His eyes flickered gold, even as he took a deep whiff of the girl who was the latest addition to the A.I. team, and he growled slightly, recognizing the scent he'd caught earlier. It helped that that smell was fresh on her skin. "I'll *kill* him!" he snarled, true face coming to the fore. "How *dare* he!" He growled again, and started for the doors.
"No!" Fred cried, jumping on his back, "No, Angel! He didn't..." She slid to the floor when the big vampire stopped, and stared up at him for what seemed like an eternity. "I... I wanted him to." she said quietly, not at all afraid for herself. "He didn't... *make* me."
The fact that he could sense the truth of her words was the only thing keeping him from hunting down the Pylean. He stood there, just staring at the brunette woman for a minute before sighing unhappily. "You're sure," he said, his tone making it more a statement than anything else, and he sighed when she nodded. "Fine," he said, reaching down to help her up, "But don't think I won't be having a few *words* with him."
The girl nodded, relieved. She knew Angel felt responsible for her; she even liked that fact, and if talking to Lorne would make him feel less concerned, then she was all for it. "O... Okay," she told him, finally noticing the Willow and a stranger in the hotel. "Um, hi...?" she said, moving towards them. She'd hoped the lobby would be empty. She'd *expected* it to be; that was why she'd come there. She wanted to slip the disk in her shirt pocket back into the Willow's computer, after all. She'd never even thought about the possibility that there'd be *people* there; much less the chance that Angel would be able to smell her... lover?... on her.
Willow had no idea of what had just happened, but she was fairly sure Angel would tell her once they were alone. In the meantime, "Spike, this is Fred. Fred, Spike. He's Angel's childe."
The girl looked at the blond curiously for a moment. "But Angel doesn't look old enough to... Oh. *Oh*!" She smiled sheepishly as she sat down in the chair beside the strange man. Vampire, she told herself. "Sorry," she said quietly, "I wasn't thinking..."
Spike laughed, thinking the girl was rather charmingly inept. Then he caught the smell rolling from her skin, and that-- combined with her name-- had him laughing even harder. "Fred, is it?" he chuckled, shaking his head at her confused gaze. "Sorry, love; just realized something. Nothing to worry yourself about."
Apparently everyone but her knew what was going on, Willow realized, and she frowned slightly as her Mate sat down beside her and drew her onto his lap again. "What's going on, Angel?" she muttered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
"Tell you later," he murmured back, before turning his attention to the two across from them again. "So. The rat." he began.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wesley sat silently, waiting for one of the group to respond to the thought he'd explained. It was a good idea, he was sure, what with Amy-- not Annie, as he'd thought-- being familiar with many things Hellmouth-y. Of course, his wasn't the deciding voice. "Well?" he asked, after a few minutes, his eyes locked on the redhead.
"I don't know," Willow said, her eyes narrowed in thought. "I mean, I've tried to turn her back into herself at least a thousand times, but nothing seems to work. I think that's the part of your idea that might be a problem, Wes. Plus, even if we *can* pull this off, what makes you think Amy would be willing to go back there?" She shook her head, still thinking. "If I'd just spent a few years as a rat, I doubt I'd *ever* want to do magic again... But changing her back is the important part. I've already tried everything I could think of."
Fred didn't notice the eyes on her as she stood and moved to the cage containing the subject of their discussion. She crouched down and peered at the small gray rodent curiously. Her brow wrinkled just a bit, and her curious expression became one of consideration. "She's violating the laws of conservation of mass," she announced. "It shouldn't be possible that she's this rat. Where did the extra weight go? And a human body is on average a good fifty times the size of a rat one... "
"Yeah, well that's why they call it *magic*, pet," Spike said impatiently. "It violates all *sorts* of laws, don't it?"
The girl shook her head in annoyance. "No, it doesn't. Magic exists within the same boundaries as everything else. That's why physics could get us out of Lor... Out of Pylea." She shook her head again, with confusion this time. "I don't know what she did with that extra mass, but that's probably why the Willow couldn't change her back. Not enough matter to make up her human form." She laughed wildly for a moment before suddenly sobering. "If we can find the missing mass, then I think we can fix her."
The former Watcher's eyes widened enormously, and he sat forward, elbows on his knees. "Yes, of course!" he cried, "I never thought of that!"
Willow was almost ashamed to admit it, but... "Neither did I."
Angel's arm tightened around his Mate's shoulders, and he pulled her closer. "Not your fault, baby," he said soothingly.
Spike rolled his eyes again, amused by his Sire's protective attitude towards the redhead. "Whatever," he said loudly, glancing around the group, "Let's get to finding this 'missing' mass, then. Don't want to be stuck here with the Pouf forever, now do I?"
Somehow, everyone in the room managed not to laugh at the blond's name for Angel, and they fell to discussing where-- exactly-- the majority of the girl's body might have gone. They didn't have a solution yet, but... they were well on their way, Wesley thought... well, *hoped*.