Part 29
Lorne had taken his time making the coffee, mostly because he couldn't quite believe the information Angel... Angelus... the vampire's humming had given him. It certainly hadn't been what he was expecting, and yet... Angel, he decided, hadn't seemed any different to him lately, although the sense he had was that whatever had changed within the vampire had happened-- at the very least-- *weeks* earlier. That he, himself, and all the others who spent time with and around the being in question were still alive made him a bit less shaky. Still, he doubted anyone knew, other than the witch, of course... and maybe the bleached blond... and that made him feel even better about things. Willow would never have kept quiet if Angel was any more of a danger to them than he usually was. In fact, he was *less* of a danger, the empath realized. Soul and demon were one, and... He finally grabbed the pot of coffee and carried it to Wes' office, his eyes lingering for a moment on his Fred. Shaking the lustful thoughts away, he cleared his throat. "You can stop looking for things about 'the souled one'," he announced, his usual playful tone in his voice once again. "I think it's more like 'the combined one', or maybe 'the blended one' these days."
Wesley frowned slightly as the scaled man entered and placed the pot of fresh coffee on the desk. The frown grew deeper as he lifted the hot glass and slid a pad of paper between it and the shining veneer of the wooden desk top. "How do you mean?" he demanded, eyes moving to Fred's face and finding a matching incomprehension there. Good, he thought, then it wasn't just him.
Lorne smiled slightly, just one corner of his mouth twitching as he sat on the arm of his girl's chair, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "I mean Angel. He's not exactly... *Angel* anymore. Or not *just* Angel, anyway." His eyes locked on the former watcher's and he nodded. "I don't know how, but he's been..." The green-skinned man sighed and shrugged. "Somehow, the demon and the soul have... joined. I didn't realize it until just a minute ago, but he's been that way for a while." It was only his woman's sudden excited bouncing that stopped the staring contest he was apparently having with Wesley.
"Oh! Oh!" Fred cried, her hands clapping gleefully, "And that's just..." She laughed and jumped up, almost knocking her bond-mate to the floor. She glanced at him apologetically before continuing to Wes' side with her notes. "Umm... here!" she declared happily, flipping pages in the thick book on the desk. "Page one-thousand fifty-six, three paragraphs down. Read it!"
Well, he figured, he knew enough to trust her note-taking ability-- as well as anything else involving thought and intelligence. He forced himself to calm, although the very idea of Angel being the foul, evil creature he'd become after he'd been drugged by that actress Rebecca made him just... frantic. He stared at the page for a moment, the small, hand-written glyphs blurring until he took a few deep breaths. "All right," he finally said, leaning over the thick vellum as he began translating, "It says... 'And in the time of shining beasts shall come the Queen of Trees, and she shall have access...' No, not access... abilities, perhaps?" His brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he nodded sharply. "Yes. 'And she shall have abilities unseen'-- or is it unknown?" He sighed at the two impatient moans he received. "I'm sorry! But it's not as if Portheriat Lambarese is my native tongue!" He nodded again, in satisfaction this time, when they lowered their eyes in apology. "All right, then. 'She shall have abilities unknown, and unguessed. The Tree Queen, bound for all time to the Balance, shall bring light to the world, and in her shadow, all things fell shall tremble.' Well," he added, gazing at his friends, "That seems rather hopeful, doesn't it?"
Fred smiled slightly, even as she turned pages on her notepad. "Now go to page eight-hundred sixty-three. Ninth paragraph after the one that ends at the top."
Lorne's eyes just grew wider and wider. Partly because he'd had no idea that his Freddie could hold so much information in her head, and make the sorts of leaps in logic that she was, but mostly... mostly because he'd had no idea that the little redheaded witch could possibly matter so much. "Well?" he demanded, as the ex-watcher's lips moved silently, "What's it *say*!?"
Wesley cleared his throat roughly before speaking. "It... I think it's about *us*," he said softly; "*All* of us!" His eyes rose to shift wildly from the Pylean to Fred and back again. "My God. I think... we could have harmed things irreparably, had we... or maybe I'm wrong," he added hopefully. "Listen! 'The light-bearers, unknowing, and meaning only good, shall try in their ignorance to halt the shifting of the future Balance. If this should occur, it shall be the beginning of a great darkness, to which our own hunger will seem nonexistent. I cannot see if it shall happen, and yet, I fear for this world.' It's signed with the sigil of Carsftera," Wesley finished, "He was the Porthars' greatest visionary." His eyes closed, and he swallowed hard. "Does it mean what I think it does?" he asked quietly, hoping desperately that it didn't.
Fred exchanged a swift glance with her love, seeing the same realization in his eyes that she felt in her heart. "I-I'm sorry, Wes, but I think so," she admitted, a sad smile on her lips when Lorne nodded.
"Then, by trying to keep them apart," Wesley began, shuddering slightly at the knowledge, "We..." He stopped, unable to go on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Spike smirked from his position just outside the office door, and decided to join the pity-party. "You almost ended the world, mate." He smirked even more, chuckling deeply, when all eyes in the office turned to him, shocked. "So Red and the pouf were prophesied," he went on as he strolled arrogantly into the smallish room; "Go figure. And you and your little 'crime-fighting family' tried to separate them." He laughed again. "Guess it's a good thing hormones speak louder than reason, then. In this case, anyway." One hand slid down his own side, thumb hooking in the pocket of his jeans, and he leaned against the front of the desk, glancing at the book priss-boy had been studying. "Porthar, 'ey? Bloody useless blokes. Well, aside from the stunning accuracy of their predictions, anyway. So, what's this all about, then?"
Wes wasn't sure of what was more surprising-- the fact that Spike, of all people, recognized the rather obscure glyphs in the book, or that the vampire had accepted what he'd heard so readily. Still, the blond knew the secret now; the important thing was to keep him from telling his apparently 'balanced' Sire.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Want you," she murmured to her sleeping vampire; "Want you so much..." Her fingers trailed softly down his side, even as she slowly pushed the blankets to the bottom of the bed with her foot. He was still the most stunning thing she'd ever seen, even in repose. Of course, she supposed he had every right to be sleeping, and yet... he was a demon. He shouldn't *need* so much rest. Finally, she sighed quietly and let her arm lay across his toned stomach. She pillowed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She might have worn him out in the real world, but... she hadn't seen him in her dreams for almost an entire day. Time to see if she could exhaust him *there*, too.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lorne grinned wildly as he raced through the door to his rooms behind the bar, his woman in tow. Three and a half hours had been much more time than he'd expected to spend at the hotel, but he supposed it had been worth it. Especially considering the way his Freddie was looking at him. One slightly clawed hand slammed the door shut, even as he pulled her against him with the other. "You've been making me crazy all night, sweets," he murmured, his red eyes locked intently on her bright brown ones. His fingers flexed softly against the base of her spine as his other hand tangled willfully in her long, dark hair. "Just watching you in that office, seeing your mind at work..." He groaned softly when her soft, warm fingers slipped up under the back of his shirt and ran small circles around the tense pleasure-knobs on his back. "Sweetness..."
Fred couldn't quite keep the small teasing gleam from her eyes, but that was all right, she decided. It was as though she wasn't going to have him, after all. So she moved her hands a bit faster, and raised her mouth to nip softly at the point of his chin. "What kind of crazy?" she whispered against his jaw. "What kind am I making you, I mean...?" She giggled silently when he hissed; then "Hey!" she yelped, "I *liked* that!"
The green-skinned man shrugged as much as he could without letting her go. "I'll get you a new one," he told her, dropping the shreds of her shirt to the floor. His eyes closed for just a moment when he felt her soft hands suddenly hard against his chest, and he gasped just a bit when she pulled hard at his shirt, the buttons flying as she tore it open.
"That's okay," Fred smirked, "I didn't like it *that* much."
He honestly wanted to ask her what had gotten into her, but that was the point at which she pressed herself tightly to him, and just the sensation of her tightly budded nipples against his skin drove all thought from his mind. His eyes glowed wickedly, and he felt the red suffusing his skin in channels, and... "Freddie..." he groaned, loudly this time. The hours at the hotel had been far too long, he knew, and... "Gods, precious..." He felt her small fingers moving down his sides; felt her frantically tugging at his belt, and he pushed just a few inches away from her as his own scaled fingers returned those attentions. "Need you, sweets... Gods, do I need you!"
And that was a sentiment she was entirely in agreement with. She toes off her shoes as she felt the jeans slipping down her thighs, and pushed his linen slacks and his boxers more quickly down his legs. "Want you, Lorne," she murmured in response, only to laugh slightly as she stepped from the cotton around her ankles and saw him all tangled up with his shoes. Her chuckles continued when he struggled and only made things worse. "Let me help you," she demanded, sinking to her knees before him.
They never told you about these sorts of awkward moments, he realized... these passionate times when things just got funny. And it *was* funny; he had to admit that much. There he'd been, wanting nothing more than to play the strong, demanding bond-mate, and... "I'll have to remember the shoes," he muttered to himself. He laughed quietly when his girl managed to force one leather-clad foot from his pants leg, and again when she accomplished that same task with the other. One hand rested on her shoulder as she untied both the offending items of footwear, only to close wildly on her soft, pale flesh as she leaned in and... "Gods!" he moaned, his eyes closing as his head fell back.
She couldn't resist the impulse. Not when his hard, straining twined spiral was just inches away from her lips, anyway, and she moved closer, taking one swift, tentative lick at his surprisingly soft skin. He tasted... odd. But not bad, she acknowledged. It wasn't a flavour she'd ever known before, though, and... she liked it. Her hands slid up his lightly scaled legs as she leaned closer, taking just the tip of him between her lips. Of course, she had no idea of whether this was even something he'd enjoy, but... she figured it was worth a try, and honestly, she was rather enjoying it herself, so far. Her fingers flexed lightly on his thighs as she slid him deeper into her mouth.
And *bless* the Powers yet again for throwing this girl into his path and making her love him! He'd never known anything like the things he'd felt with her, and... here was yet another new sensation that he just didn't believe could be real! That didn't change the fact that he was experiencing it, though. His hand moved from her shoulder, to join the other in her luxurious hair, and when she moved even closer, taking more of his straining shaft into the wet heat of her mouth, he groaned. A slight variation on the feeling he usually had with her began gathering in the pit of his stomach, and "Gods!" he whimpered. Was this even possible, he wondered, but... obviously, it *was*. He could feel the splotches and lines of red growing on his skin; feel the way his hearts were racing, and... "Fred!" he screamed, his back arching hard into her sweet, soft lips.
She held him there in her mouth, even as she tried to think of what he tasted like. It was still impossible, though. A little bit bitter, but mostly just... like him. Like Lorne. She could feel him shaking as she slowly pulled away from him, and when she gazed up his trembling body, she gasped at the look on his face. "Are you... was that okay?" she asked fearfully, only to relax when he suddenly laughed.
Was that okay. The phrase kept echoing in his head, and he couldn't even fathom how she could think otherwise. He pulled her up from her knees as his laughter died out, and held her tightly to him. "Oh, Freddie," he finally managed to say, "That was so much better than okay... You have no idea." His smile grew wider when he felt her blushing against him, and he relaxed his grip just enough that he could look down into her wide eyes. "That was almost as good as being inside you. Almost."
It was good to know, and she smiled before pulling away from him. "Are you sure about that?" she said softly, backing towards the bedroom door, "Because it's been almost ten hours, so... what's your basis for comparison?" A small shriek flew from her when he lunged for her, and she darted through that doorway, making sure not to be *too* successful with her evasive manoeuvering. She didn't want to get away, after all.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The former rat woke screaming, her eyes wild as she stared at her own hand, then proceeded to touch herself all over. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, and that staccato thumping only became louder and faster when the door to her room suddenly burst open. She screamed again, her arms tight around her ribs before realizing who it was who'd broken in on her. "Spike..." she sobbed, tears suddenly pouring from her eyes as she shook.
It had been her loud shriek and the sudden stench of fear coming from her room that had made him run to her. He hadn't even paused for the locked door, either; he'd just kicked it open and dashed in, fully prepared to destroy whatever it was that was threatening her. That she'd been entirely alone was bloody well unexpected, what with the bone-chilling tone of her cries, but... it was a relief. He frowned deeply, even as he forced his human seeming to reemerge and he flipped the switch on the wall, squinting for a moment in the bright light. "And what's all this, then?" he said gently, his bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he moved to her bedside. "Amy, what is it? What's wrong?"
She honestly couldn't manage to speak right then, although when he sat down on the edge of her bed, she flung herself at him and held on to him like a lifeline. Her shudders slowly eased as he stroked her back, and relief flooded her entire being. "I-I'm still human," she finally murmured, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
Spike's frown became even more confused, but he only held her tighter to him. "Well, and of course you are, pe... luv. Unless you've been asking that Goddess for rat-dom again? No?" He chuckled softly himself when she whispered 'no', and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Come now, luv; tell Spike all about it..." Gods, he realized, he was just as much a pouf as his sodding Sire-- comforting the little witch and trying to get her to talk. Still, he'd served as confidant for the li'l bit on more than one occasion, so maybe it had become habit. Yeah, he decided... it was all *Dawn's* fault.
The fact that she felt like an idiot didn't keep her from telling him about the dream, although she tried to control the fresh spate of terror as she remembered it. Of course, she figured she had every right to be frightened. She'd just become herself again, and... she would rather die than return to her furry existence. "... and then I was in a tiger cage for some reason, and I just knew. I... rat-me, I mean, was *lunch*, and the big cat sort of ran at me and batted me across the floor, and..." And she was crying again. "Sorry," she sniffed. "I know it was just a dream, but..." she shrugged a little.
And he couldn't quite laugh at her. Yeah, it was a kind of silly thing to be all upset over, but then again, he'd never been a rodent. He could see that it might be entirely different for her. He sighed softly against her hair, and stroked her back a bit more forcefully, smiling when her tears stopped and she relaxed a little. "D'you want me to stay until you fall asleep again, luv?" he murmured.
Amy shook her head slightly, but when he tried to pull away, she held him tighter. "I- I just want you to *stay*. Please? I feel safe with you."
Well, that just... sucked, didn't it? His frown returned, even while he tried to ignore his desire to do just as she'd asked. "You *do* realize I'm a vampire, right? You're supposed to feel threatened by my kind; not *safe*." He pulled back from her a bit and met her wide eyes. "I'm a killer, baby. A demon. Having the bloody chip in my noggin doesn't change that."
She truly hadn't meant to insult him. The last thing she wanted was for Spike to hate her, after all. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. Not completely, anyway. "I know all that," she admitted slowly, "And I don't care. I feel safe with you. I think... you're the one who figured out what was up with Hecate, and I just... I need you here." She blinked rapidly, fighting back some fresh tears. "Please, Spike... will you stay with me? Please?"
She actually thought he was smarted than the rest of them, apparently, and while he wasn't entirely sure that was true, well... who was he to tell her any different? His frown faded, and he pulled her tight against him once more. "All right," he finally allowed, "Just as long as it's understood that I'm still evil. Now let's get you settled in, right, luv?"
Oh, yeah, she thought, hiding her smile, he was *evil* all right. She didn't really think anything was going to happen to her again-- not intellectually, anyway-- but she really *did* feel better with Spike in the room. She had from the moment she'd been returned to her self, and... she just wanted him to stay. She wasn't entirely sure of why. She let go of him and lay back on her bed, pulling the sheets up around her shoulders as she rolled onto her side. That smile finally came out in a subtle curve of her lips when he turned out the lights and arranged himself behind her, one arm draped lightly over her waist. "Thanks, Spike," she said, yawning, "I really appreciate this..."
Spike closed his own eyes and wondered what the hell he was doing as he listened to her breathing assume the steady rhythm of sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Her eyes weren't wide until she entered her Mate's dream, but then they were more round than they'd ever been before. Her hand fell to rest upon the red hair of the boy in front of her, and she smiled softly into his so-Angel-y eyes. "So where's Daddy, then?" she said softly.
The boy looked at up at her and grinned. "Zackly where ya lef him, Mum," he smirked.: "Prolly the liberry..."
Willow grinned as the child ran off to be with the friends she could see lurking about the edges of their property. "Love you, Patrick," she murmured before remembering that there was no such child. Her smile faded, and she walked slowly into the house she'd found herself in front of. It was a nice little house, she admitted silently. Still, "What the *hell* is this about, heart?"
Angel actually jumped when she appeared in the doorway, and he couldn't manage to keep himself from looking guilty. "It's what my soul-y parts dream about sometimes," he said, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he shrugged. "Not quite sure of how to stop it, either..." One long, strong arm snaked out when his woman wandered closer, and he pulled her swiftly into his lap. "As much as I'm thrilled to have you as my Mate, baby, I think... I still feel a little bit guilty, you know? Because you'll never have any of *this*," he continued, gesturing broadly about him; "Not bound to a vampire, anyway."
Well, she didn't quite understand, but then again, neither did he, apparently. She shifted a bit upon him, finally coming to rest straddling his thick thighs, her arms around his neck. Her fingers toyed lightly with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, and she smiled ever-so-slightly. "Um, honey?" she murmured, after a long minute of just... staring deep into him, "What makes you think I'd ever *want* this? A house, a kid, a 'normal' life?" She shook her head slowly and pressed her lips softly to his cooler ones. "I love you, my Angel. *You*. Demon and soul, man and vampire. And I always knew-- from the very beginning-- that there wouldn't be anything 'normal' about my life." A small laugh burst from her lips, even as she leaned in and kissed him again.
And suddenly, he could feel those last bits of guilt and longing fading away. His arms locked tightly around her waist, and he held her closer, almost unable to believe it could be true. Still, she'd never seemed to mind; not from the moment he'd gone after her and brought her home. There had been no sad glances at other people with their children; no wistful sighs when she saw what she'd never have, and... He felt it, the moment the bits of soul mixed into him finally accepted the facts. A laugh of his own exited him on a happy sigh, only to be swallowed by her warm, wet mouth. "Willow," he groaned, even as the dream-world faded around them and he found himself back in their room.
Willow's heart thumped wildly at the sudden change of venue, although her main reaction was to push him back flat on their bed. She stared down into his hot brown eyes, amused by the relief she felt singing through him. "Come on, heart," she muttered, a small smirk crossing her lips, "I grew up on a Hellmouth. I was best friends with the Slayer. I dated a werewolf and a witch!" She giggled softly, even as her fingers moved firmly over her Mate's defined chest, and her smirk became just a bit deeper when his tiny nipples hardened to sharp little peaks. "Want to show me the normal in my life? 'Cause I'm just not *seeing* it!"
His won lips twitched swiftly into a wicked grin, and he couldn't help growling softly as he grabbed her hips and rolled her beneath his tense shape. "Sorry, my love," he finally said after a moment of staring wildly into her bright green eyes, "But when you put it like that?" His lips covered hers desperately, and he couldn't help running his long, hard shaft against her seeping, hot core in anticipation. "Not seeing the normal, there, myself..." It was an easy admission to make, after all.
Willow gasped loudly, her hands moving to his thick shoulders as she met his movements with her own. "Good," she moaned. "Now enough with the talking, baby..."
And that wasn't a sentiment any part of him was interested in disagreeing with. "Yes, love," he purred, even as he stroked deeply, fully, strongly into her, his eyelids closing over gold-flecked orbs.