Part 28
Wesley sighed softly, wanting nothing more than to just go home and collapse. Performing the spell to make Amy human again had taken more out of him than he'd thought it would. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that he was going to have that rest he so desperately craved. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes swam. He doubted he'd be able to research the things Fred had told him any further, considering the fact that he wasn't currently able to focus. He jumped slightly when his eyes opened again and he saw the girl standing in front of his desk along with the Pylean she was... involved with. "Don't creep up on me like that," he snapped before shaking his head. "Sorry," he apologized immediately, "I'm just a bit... tired. What's going on?"
Lorne glanced at his Freddie from the corner of his eye, finally nodding at the determination he saw on her face. His girl wanted them to talk to Wes? Well, then, they'd talk, all right. "About those files, oh, Captain," he began, "I think we should see what we can figure out."
And what did the bloody green creature think he'd been doing? He almost asked before realizing that he was being uncharitable. He released his irritation on a loud breath before finally nodding. "Fine," he allowed, pushing his book aside, "Pull up a chair."
Fred smiled as her own personal demon did just that, but shook her head when he would have dragged her into his lap. "We need to think," she clarified, her eyes promising many things once they left and were home.
The lightly-scaled man forced himself to stay calm, and when his bond-mate pulled her own chair up beside him, he contented himself with just holding her soft little hand. "All right," he said, leaning forward, "Here's what we know..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He had to admit that seeing the girl in Red's dress beat the merry fuck out of having her waltzing around in his Sire's great bloody shirt. Still, he could smell the stench of Angelus all over her. "How 'bout this one, then?" he said, stepping aside to let her see the latest of the rooms they'd looked at.
Amy frowned slightly, although she wasn't sure why. The rooms were pretty much exactly the same, after all. Still, there was something bothering her. She only hoped she'd figure out what it was before the bleached blond lost patience with her. "I... I don't..."
"You don't know," Spike finished for her, fighting the impulse to roll his eyes. "C'mon, pet," he said gently, wanting to hit himself when she cringed at the word, "What's wrong, then?"
And at least he wasn't shouting at her. It was surprising, though, considering the way she'd seen him act whilst still in her cage. She wouldn't have thought he'd be so... concerned. Her eyes fell to the floor and she shook her head. "Maybe..." she said, after a minute or so, "Maybe it's... too far?"
Well, he supposed that might make a certain sort of sense. The girl had spent the last few years in a tiny cage surrounded by great lumbering humans. He guessed it was possible that now she'd been returned to herself, as it were, she'd want to be able to interact with those around her. Still, "I doubt you'd want a room near Red and the pouf, luv," he told her, smiling slightly when she glanced up at him. "They can get a bit... loud, if you take my meaning." It was the disappointment in her eyes that made him say what he did next. "There's always the room next to mine, of course." He cursed himself as more of a ponce than his bloody Sire when the girl's sudden smile made him feel good. "Right, then," he almost snarled. "Let's get you settled in." He grabbed her hand roughly and started down the hall, pulling her along behind him. If the girl was gonna stay so nearby, he'd have to see about getting her some things that didn't stink of Angelus.
Amy smiled even more as she trotted to keep up with him. Maybe he'd start talking to her again-- the way he had when she'd been all furry. She'd liked that; the sound of his voice, alone, had been soothing. "Thanks, Spike," she finally said when he stopped at the door to the room she knew would be perfect, "I really... I appreciate it, okay?"
Spike sighed, well aware of the fact that he wasn't mad at *her*. "S'all right," he told her, staring off down the hallway. "Might want to think about doing some shopping, though. I don't think one dress is gonna cut it."
She shrugged simply and easily. "I don't exactly have any money, though, do I?"
He sighed again, silently cursing the fact that he even cared, but "I'll talk to Angel and Red in the morning. Now get some sleep, why don't you?"
She supposed she really should, so she nodded shortly. "Oh," she called out to his retreating back, "I don't have..." She smiled sheepishly, a slight blush blooming on her cheeks. "Could I maybe borrow a t-shirt or something? To sleep in, I mean..."
And it was the thought that it would be *his* scent all over her skin that had him smiling again, although he didn't know why. "Hold on a mo', pe... luv," he said smoothly. His hands found the bottom of his shirt, and he pulled it slowly over his head. "There you go," he announced, pretending not to see the stunned expression the girl was suddenly wearing. "Good night." And with that he turned and strolled off down the hall.
Amy's eyes were wide and dazed, just from the sight of him. She watched him until he disappeared around a corner in the hallway, then found herself staring down at the black shirt in her hands. She hadn't expected him to just... but she was glad he had, she realized. "Vampire or not, that is one *fine* looking man," she murmured, entirely unaware that he'd stopped as soon as he couldn't feel her eyes on him any more.
Spike smirked as he listened to the girl entering her room, the expression growing even more wicked as he turned and retraced his steps to his own room. He slipped inside, his sly grin still wide and bold on his face. The little witch thought he was good-looking. "Guess I've still got it, then," he muttered to himself, even as he turned on the tele.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was still a little bit bothered by what he'd done to his Mate, but she didn't seem to care at all, herself. At least, that was the impression he was getting. His hands stroked the long line of her spine as she kissed his chest, his eyes closing when her small, even teeth closed tenderly of one peaked male nipple, and he groaned. "Willow... Willow, stop it!"
It was the small bit of whine in his voice that had her smiling against him. Well, that and the fact that his entire body seemed to be saying the exact opposite. "No," she said simply, the word slightly muffled by the tiny bud of flesh between her teeth. The tip of her tongue flicked lightly against it, and she chuckled with dark amusement as his hips rocked against their mattress. One hand slid down his tense stomach to wrap softly around his straining shaft, and when he arched again, she bit a little more harshly at him. Her fingers slipped up to the tip of his throbbing cock, and she spread the small oozing drops she found slowly over his head, pushing gently back on his foreskin. Another chuckle slipped from her when he growled, and after a few more moments she released him, sitting up beside his tense form. "Oh, fine," she teased, "I'll stop."
He was going to have to kill her, he decided, and especially if she really meant it. Of course, he realized, as soul and demon swirled within him, there were other ways of making her pay-- better ways. "Thank you, baby," he purred, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. He nearly laughed when she turned an unhappily shocked expression his way, but forced himself to hold the sound in. His own hand took the place hers had so recently occupied, and he slowly stroked himself, eyes closing as he felt her watching him.
She'd never seen him do this before. Probably because she'd been away at first, and then because they'd been so very... together. It was an oddly arousing sight, though, she had to admit. Her fingers itched to feel that thick, turgid maleness, to touch him and stroke him, to be the one causing the expression of pleasure he wore. Her heart beat faster as her eyes remained locked on his large, strong hand moving wickedly-- willfully-- over his straining shaft. "Angel," she moaned, fire racing through her body and settling deep in the pit of her stomach. She stretched out beside him, her face only inches away from his rising and falling hand.
God! Just the sensation of her warm, moist breath on his skin was driving him crazy. That she was enjoying his little display wasn't even in question; he could smell her arousal growing stronger by the second. His hand moved a bit more quickly, fingers grazing lightly over his seeping head, and when he heard the unmistakable sound of her fingers moving over her own wetness, he growled softly, cracking his eyes to watch her.
Her hand moved in time with his long, smooth strokes, her eyes glazing slightly as she saw still more milky fluid leaking from his tip. She licked her lips wantonly, even as she allowed one of her fingers to slip inside her yearning center. She breathed a bit deeper, her thumb tweaking and circling her clit.
And that was all he could take. His eyes opened fully and he sat up, releasing himself as he grabbed his Mate and pulled her hard against him. "You do it better, baby," he told her shakily. He lay back down, positioning her swiftly over his face, and moaned long and hard as he drove his tongue deep into her slick, hot core.
Gods, she couldn't believe what he was doing to her. Of course, she also couldn't believe they hadn't done this before. Her gaze locked on his bobbing shaft, though, and she wondered... It took less than an instant for her to decide to find out, and she leaned down, almost fully upon him as she swiped quickly at his throbbing cock with her tongue. "Yes," she moaned before opening her lips further and taking him in.
His Mate, writhing above him, her perfect center clenching tightly and rhythmically around his tongue... her fingers hard on his thighs, her soft lips stretched wide to accommodate his thick, hungry shaft... the small whimpers he could feel racing through her as she slid him deep into her throat... the sensation of sweetly bruised hips shifting above him. It was almost more than he could bear. His legs spread as one small, warm hand slipped down to fondle his heavy sac, and he shouted with both shock and pleasure as she slammed one slim finger deep into his ass. His own fingers tightened on her, holding her hard to his face as he bit roughly at her throbbing little nubbin, and a long, drawn-out growl sprung from him as he felt her starting to shudder wildly.
It had never occurred to her to do what she'd just done, but if her love's swift reaction was anything to judge by, she'd have to do it more often. She crooked that finger inside him, and if it hadn't been for his perfect cock lodged deep in her throat, she would have screamed when his teeth closed over her, the small bit of pain fulfilling her in ways she'd never imagined. Her eyes flew wide, even as she felt him swelling in her mouth, and she couldn't help moaning in wicked enjoyment as he spilled what seemed like a river of thick, viscous seed deep within her grasping throat. Her eyes closed, and she sucked gently at his softening shaft as she rode out the tail-ends of her own shattering orgasm.
He was breathing hard, and felt more on fire than he ever had as he slowly shifted her upon him. He chuckled breathlessly when she was reluctant to let him pull his spent cock from her mouth, but then again, he'd been just as reluctant to stop tasting her. He forced himself to move, not stopping until he was laying by her side, his face merely an inch or so from hers. "You're unbelievable," he purred, eyes glowing gold in his true face.
She could barely find words, but she managed somehow. Her hand rose shakily to caress his ridged brow, and "You, too," she murmured as his eyes closed and he leaned into her touch. "Love you, Angel," she sighed, pressing her lips gently to his.
Angel nodded slowly, a large lump in his throat. "Love you, Will," he whispered, still entirely stunned by her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They stood in a doorway less than a block from the apartment, both watching intently as the lawyer-woman arrived home. "When do you think it'll happen?" Cordelia asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Gunn shook his head slowly. "Don't know, Cordy," he admitted. "She hasn't exactly been keeping me in the loop on this one." He shrugged and swayed just a bit closer to the brunette. "I think she questions my loyalty to the firm, you know?"
The Seer rolled her eyes, only sheer willpower keeping her from snorting in derision. "Imagine that," she replied sarcastically.
And he supposed she was right, after all, because... well, he *had* planted that case-- along with whatever was inside it-- in Lilah's home. He'd deliberately done something that he was fairly sure would lead to the lawyer's demise, and... it didn't bother him even slightly. A small frown crossed his lips as he wondered what that said about him. Did it mean he was becoming... not evil, exactly, but maybe a little bit less *good*? He puzzled over the thought for a few moments before shaking his head. No. What he'd done was just another part of the 'good fight'. A more proactive part, perhaps, but... If Lilah died, then how much true evil would she never do? How many people-- both human *and* demonic-- would never have to suffer from the effects of her actions?
Cordelia watched him from the corner of her eye, glad that he wore his emotions plain on his face. "As long as it bothers you even a little," she nearly whispered, "You're probably okay. It's when you truly don't care that you have to worry. Like Angel, back before his 'I screwed Darla, and it's all clear to me now' moment."
Gunn tried not to laugh; he really did, but it was impossible. Still, he managed to hold himself to some deep, heart-felt chuckles, one arm slipping around the girl's shoulders. He hugged her swiftly then let up the pressure, although his arm remained in place. "I think Angel likes to call it an 'epiphany'."
Her eyes rolled again, even as she admitted that she liked having him touch her. "Whatever. It's the same thing, isn't it?"
His eyes returned to the brightly lit window of the building they'd been watching. "Well," he admitted, "Yeah."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I still think there's something we're not seeing," Wesley insisted. "So much of what we've read seems to be contradictory." He rested his head on his hands, fingers rubbing his temples. "I don't understand how their bond could 'usher in the great light', while at the same time 'be the ending of all things'. It doesn't make any *sense*!"
And Lorne finally understood why Fred had been so insistent on talking things over with the Englishman. The former watcher apparently had a very twisted mind, which fact was entirely belied by the apparent ineptitude he showed the world at large. "Well, maybe we don't have all the files, then," he admitted. "Maybe your pet Thug wasn't quite as thorough as you think." He couldn't help sneering slightly; there was just something about the way the oh-so-handsome black man looked at his Freddie that just... irked him. Of course, his bond-mate was entirely his-- *now*-- but...
"No," Fred interrupted, one hand resting lightly on her demon's tense thigh. "I'm sure this is all there was. Charles is very good at doing what he thinks is his job. There must be some other reason." She smiled softly at Lorne when his brows drew closer together in a frown, and pursed her lips slightly.
Wes rolled his eyes at the small kiss the girl blew so subtly at the Pylean, seeing the action only driving it home that he was still alone. "Yes, well," he finished, standing, "Whatever the reason, *I* don't know what it is. I need a break. Coffee?" He took their nods as yes-es, and left the office swiftly, glad to have the chance to move about a bit. The brief respite wouldn't last long enough, he knew.
Lorne watched him go, then turned to his woman, pressing his soft lips to hers for just a moment. "Sorry, precious; I'm just a little..." he shrugged.
"Frustrated. Annoyed. I know." The former physicist rested her forehead on his hard shoulder for a moment, then pulled away. "Still, maybe we *are* missing something. In the not seeing it kind of way, I mean." She stood, swiftly moving behind Wes' desk and sat, scrolling through the open file on the monitor. Her eyes locked intently on a small symbol at the end of the data, and she frowned. "What the..."
A sly smile crossed his lips as he watched his Fred go into action. His eyes almost blazed as she snatched up a pencil and Wesley's pad of paper, and he sighed happily-- lustfully-- as she began moving the mouse and clicking back and forth between files, occasionally stopping to jot something down. Oh, yeah, he loved it when she got all intent and serious. It reminded him that she wasn't just some random human he'd gone and fallen for. No, she was the girl who the Powers had selected to throw into his path, and was even more involved in the battle between light and dark than he was. She was his match, in every sense of the word, even if she *was* smarter than he'd ever be; even if she was far too good for him. "What do you have, sweetness," he finally murmured, when she set her pencil down, an almost smug look on her face.
"Yes, Fred," Wesley added from the doorway he'd been standing in for almost ten minutes, "What is it?"
Emotionally, she was caught between a sense of triumph and an equally intense feeling of confusion. "I don't know, exactly," she said slowly, eyes still locked on the paper she'd been writing on, "But... these files. Every single one of them has some sort of a symbol at the end. I think... maybe they *mean* something." She finally glanced up, smiling at Wes, then losing her breath at the heat in her demon's eyes. She closed her own eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "Later," she muttered to Lorne, amused despite herself by his resigned nod. She returned her gaze to Wesley as he approached. "I don't see why Wolfram & Hart would bother including them if they weren't *important*, so..." she shrugged.
The former watcher's eyes traveled swiftly over the column of glyphs the girl had copied, his eyes growing wider by the moment. He'd seen the sigils whilst perusing the data, of course, but it just hadn't occurred to him to put them all together this way. "Yes..." he mumbled, going over them again, "Yes, of course! Fred, once again, you're *brilliant*!"
And that, Lorne suddenly realized, was probably why his Freddie was so happy helping the sometimes woefully inconsiderate A.I. staff. They appreciated her more than he'd known, and they also-- apparently-- told her so fairly often. Good thing, too, he thought smugly, staring at his girl. Otherwise, they'd probably be in serious trouble. More often. "So, what's the deal, oh wise one?" he demanded. After all, seeing as it was *his* Fred who was so 'brilliant', he figured he deserved to know how.
Wesley smiled his first real smile in days, even as he crossed quickly to the case full of mouldering old books against the wall. "Each of those symbols," he stated, squinting at the very worn lettering on the spines of his books, "Is a glyph in Portheriat Lambarese. Now, I'm certainly not *fluent* in the language, seeing as the Porthars have been extinct for more than three thousand years, but I know enough to recognize their writing." He pulled one thick tome from the shelf and opened it, frowning slightly before replacing it. "They were a peaceful tribe, except in the third year of each new century, when they went on some sort of hereditary blood-path-- which, incidentally, is what ultimately led to their extinction... well, that and a change in the climate where they lived, which meant that their breeding-cycles became... but that's irrelevant," he admitted, when Lorne groaned. "In any case," he continued, finally finding the proper book, "Each generation was blessed or cursed with a Seer of great power, and those Seers collected their greatest visions together in one truly large book." He dropped the thick volume in his hands onto the desk with a thud. "This isn't it," he admitted, "But it's the best we can do, so..."
"So, research?" Fred asked happily.
"Research," Wesley agreed.
Lorne sighed deeply, well aware of the fact that he wouldn't be getting his woman home any time soon, which was-- as far as he was concerned-- a *damned* shame. Still, "If they were so all-seeing, you'd think they'd still be around, wouldn't you?" he said, frowning.
Wes shook his head, even as he and Fred bent over the book. "That was part of the problem, Lorne," he replied distractedly. "They could see everything. Except what pertained to themselves. Now, we're looking for any reference to a souled-one or a witch; preferably both."
The Pylean shook his head sadly and stood. "Well, I'll just keep the coffee coming, then," he announced, "Research is more my girl's thing, anyway." He chuckled softly at the bare acknowledgment coming from the both of them and strolled out into the lobby. He might as well make up a fresh pot, he figured. It was only as he was waiting for the drip cycle to finish that he noticed the soft, steady humming approaching from the floor above, and he froze solid as Angel's tall form descended the steps. "A-Angel?" he demanded, eyes wide.
The vampire grinned and continued across to the kitchen door. "Hey, Lorne," he said in passing, "How's Fred?" He paused for a moment when the green-skinned man didn't reply, then moved closer to him. "Lorne? You okay?"
He forced himself to nod, and took one shaky breath as his hearts slowed back to their normal rate. "Fine, Angel," he said after a moment, glad to find that his shock wasn't reflected in his voice. "Fred's good, too. She's in with Wes. Uh, you seem... happy?"
Angel smiled again, not sure of exactly what had his club-owning friend acting so out-of-sorts. Still, it was probably just some Pylean thing he didn't know about. Whatever it was, though, he had no doubt that Fred would fix it soon enough. "I am," he admitted, chuckling slightly. "My Mate just..." He smiled more broadly. "Well, let's just say she makes it almost impossible to brood. And speaking of my Mate, I'd better get her some food or she'll..." His eyes gleamed wickedly, and he turned away. "Then again, punishment isn't always *bad*," he muttered, unaware that the Pylean's ears were good enough to hear him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He could hear the slow, steady beating of the girl's heart, even through the voices on the tele, and he couldn't seem to keep himself from wondering what she looked like, laying there against those white sheets in his black shirt. He groaned softly, the imagined pictures causing a reaction in him that he didn't want to think about.
Was he really that hard up, he wondered? So much so that any cute little chit wandering about with that aura of power could make him... yearn? Well, yeah, he admitted, he was. He tossed and turned on his mattress, uncomfortably aware of the tightness of his jeans as he tried to pay attention to the transvestite dwarves on Jerry Springer. It was hopeless, though.
And really, what was he thinking? The girl had just become human again, after all. She'd want to surround herself with her own kind, he was sure; not spend time with a demon who couldn't even function properly.
Still, a little voice spoke in the back of his mind, she'd been more than happy to take the neighbouring room. She'd wanted his shirt to sleep in. She thought he was 'fine-looking', and had said so out loud. Granted, she hadn't known he could hear her, but so what?
Maybe, he finally allowed. Maybe he'd have to take the time to get to know the girl better; see if maybe her time as a rodent had made her less desperate for human company, rather than more.
His restless motions ceased, and he smiled slightly as he freed himself from his too-tight pants. Yeah, he could do that. And he had a few days to get under her skin before they'd have to return to Sunnyhell, so... maybe he could make a good enough impression that whatever the sodding Scooby Gang might say to her wouldn't put her off entirely.
The hardest part, he admitted as he stroked himself slowly, would be remembering not to call her 'pet'.