Carpe Diem

Sequal to: The Dalliance of the Eagles

Author: GypsyQueen

Summary: After the events of The Dalliance of the Eagles, everyone is safe and it seems that everything is going to be all right….. Well, if life doesn’t get in the way. Can Angel Investigations go back to work as usual', when Spike and everything else just seems to keep getting in the way?

I think it should go without saying that I don't own Angel, BTVS, or any of the characters in this story, but I guess I have to say it anyway. I don't own Angel, BTVS, or any of the characters in this story.

Anyway, this story can be read as a stand alone (or not), as long as you know that Spike is a part of the Angel Investigations family. I'd like to thank everyone who read 'The Dalliance of the Eagles' and ask you to *please* review and tell me what you think of this idea. Either encourage my genius or discourage my insanity. (Hehe. A joke.) Anyway, thanks bunches and...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
 

~Part: 1~ House of Cards

"Hey, Angel. You gonna take all day, 'cause we're wasting daylight." Spike sat there staring at his hand. Three queens and two kings stared back at him.

"Daylight that we would spend doing what? Sunbathing? Just shut up and let me think." Angel looked over his cards and took a good look at his childe, then at Wesley and Gunn. "Hmm... Go fish."

"Oh!" Spike slammed his hand of cards down on the table. "Play right, Angel! That's no more funny now than when you did it the first two times."

Wesley smirked over at Gunn, who was chuckling under his breath.

Angel pointed over at the two men with a smile. "They seem to think it's funny."

"They just think that that stupid cow lick look you got going is funny." Spike picked his cards back up and sighed. "Come on, Angelus. Be a sport. It's your turn."

Angel ran his fingers through his 'bangs' then shook his head when he realized what he was doing. "Gimme two." Angel put down two cards and waited for Gunn to pass him a couple more off the top of the deck. Angel picked up the cards and made them part of his makeshift fan.

"Not a flicker on your face. How did I let you talk me into playing cards with you, Mister Impassive?" Spike looked back at his cards and groaned.

"One." Gunn said, as he put down a card and slipped another off the top of the deck.

"I'll take two." Wesley threw his cards over to the side and waited for Gunn to deal him two more. "Thank you."

"No problem." Gunn smiled as he sat back on the two back legs of his chair. "It's nice to have the women-folk gone and to just hang out."

"What's that?" Lorne asked, as he made his way in the room.

"Gunn was just saying how it was nice that we guys got some time together, while you girls went shopping." Spike smiled up at the demon and cocked his head to the side. "What happened? Aren't you supposed to be out picking up some pumps or something?"

Lorne grinned widely and pulled his glass up to his lips. "Spike, darling, you can bite my emerald green..."

"Whoa!" Gunn looked up at Lorne and shook his head. "There's no reason to get nasty with each other."

Lorne shrugged and walked over toward the couch. He was resigned to watching the boys play a little bit of poker. He had a hunch that one of the two vampires at the table was cheating, and he was pretty sure it wasn't Angel. He decided he would like to see how the game panned out.

Spike threw down a buck and placed his cards, facedown, on the table. "A dollar hand, my friends."

"Ah... big spender." Angel looked at his hand and back up at Spike, so he could study his face. "I see your dollar..." Angel threw a buck in the pot. "...and raise you two." Angel tossed two more dollars in with the first.

Gunn looked at his hand and then at the pot. "Hmm..."

"Come on, Gunn. Make hay while the sun shines." Spike muttered.

"If that's a reference to slavery I'm going to kick your ass, bleach boy." Gunn picked up a five dollar bill and threw it in. "My hand's worth at least five dollars," he stated, as he put all four chair legs down on the ground.

"It was not a racial reference. It means..." Spike waved his hand in the air, as he searched for the right words. "Strike while the iron's hot." Spike put his hand down, when he caught the look of uncertainty on Gunn's face. "Carpe diem. Seize the day? Ring *any* bells?"

Gunn rested his elbows on the table, put his two hands together, fingers intertwined, pointers forming a steeple. "If you don't quit talking to me like I'm stupid, I'll ring *your* bell. Got me?"

"Yup." Spike saluted Gunn from his temple, and grinned. "That was a very mum thing to say, by the way."

"I fold..." Wesley placed his cards down on the table and slumped in his chair. "...and I have to agree with Spike. That was a very mum thing to say."

"What do you mean by that?" Gunn looked between the two British men with a certain mixture of interest and confusion.

"I mean... Well, let me give an example. Mum, can I have another piece of cake? Oh, William, I'll give you a piece of my hand if you ask again." Spike put on a charming falsetto as he made his point. After a moment, he peeked at his cards and nodded. "I see the bet." He threw out a five, and sat back in his seat.

"Hey, have you heard this one? Mum, may I please drive the car? Wesley Wyndham Price, I'll drive the car you!" Wesley cleared his throat and looked down at the table. "No? I guess my mother was the only one who was crazy, then."

Spike grinned at the Englishman and nodded. "Perhaps. I liked my mum."

"A little too much." Angel muttered, as he threw out a five. "I'll see the bet."

"What do you bloody well mean by that?" Spike glared at his Sire.

"You turned her, Spike. You think Dru didn't tell me about the mother-in- law being on your honeymoon?" Angel shook his head. "Big mistake."

"You killed your mum! Your whole family, for that matter, and anyone who met them." Spike cast accusing eyes on Angel.

"I killed her, Spike. I didn't make her into a vampire. For one thing, I didn't want anyone around that was going to nag me for my whole un-life. No one wants their mom hanging over their shoulder for the rest of forever. Well, except for little British momma's boys."

Spike jumped across the table and tackled Angel to the ground. "You trying to start a fight, Sire?" Spike had a hold of Angel's collar and slammed his head into the hardwood floor.

Angel used his weight to flip the two of them over, so he was lying on top. He yanked his head back, successfully pulling Spike's grip loose, and went to grab Spike's arms before he could hit him anywhere painful. "I'm not saying she wasn't a nice lady or that she wasn't pretty enough." Spike bucked wildly, trying to fight the grip his Sire had on him. "It's just that Dru turned *you* so that you could keep her company, not so *you and your mom* could keep her company."

Spike stopped squirming and fell still. "If you were so disgusted, then why didn't you kill me at the beginning?"

"'Cause I didn't find it disgusting. I thought it was cute." Angel let his grip go once he thought Spike wouldn't hit him. It was a bad idea. Spike struck out and caught Angel's chin with his fist. Angel swore and spit out a small amount of blood as he got up off his childe.

Spike jumped up from the cold ground and walked over to the table so he could take his seat. "Shouldn't we show our cards now?" Spike picked up his hand and looked at the other two men at the table. Gunn was little less than gaping at him, and Wesley's eyes had grown to the size of saucers.

Angel crawled over to the table on his knees, wiping his lip with his shirtsleeve. He looked at the blood smear and shook his head. "Another ruined shirt, Spike. You know what that means?"

Spike shrugged. "You going shopping again?"

"No, I'm going to be walking around half-naked, 'cause I'm tired of spending money on shirts." Angel pulled himself up into his chair and settled into the seat. "You feeling better?"

"What?" Spike put his hand back down on the table and looked at Angel with obvious disbelief.

"You were being pissy. I wanted you to blow off some steam." Angel grabbed some skittles out of the bowl on the table and popped them in his mouth. "Worked," he added, around the mouthful of candy.

"You're an ass," Spike grumbled, as he flipped over his cards. "Full house."

Angel nodded, as he flipped his cards over. "Royal flush."

Gunn threw his hand down and sighed. "I was bluffing."

"Badly," Spike stated, with a smirk.

"I could actually smell the bluff on you," Angel agreed.

"Oh, well, color me surprised." Spike grabbed at his chest over his unbeating heart and feigned a gasp. "You have a strange fetish there, Sire."

"No more strange than any of yours." Angel smiled darkly at his childe. "If you really want to get into this, I think I could bring up quite a few peculiarities of your own."

Lorne grinned and leaned forward in his chair. "Oh, please do."

Spike put his hands up. "Show some mercy, Angel. You taught me better than that. You don't declare war on someone that you can't possibly beat."

Angel nodded and collected his winnings from the middle of the table. "Which is why you should never have suggested poker as a good game for us to play. You can't beat me."

Spike chuckled in what could only be described as a sinister fashion. "Angel's not just an ass. He's an 'ass man'."

Angel's head snapped up.

Spike nodded. "He likes small muscular behinds. Doesn't matter what they're attached to."

Angel's mouth hung open. From the look on Spike's face, it seemed that he was going to talk some more. That could not end well. Angel picked up his cards and tossed them in Spike's face.

"Come on, guys. This is supposed to be a friendly game of poker. Not a vicious game of 52 pick-up." Gunn groaned and bent out of his chair to pick up the cards.

"Watch out, Gunn. It may be just a little too tempting when you wave it around in the air like that. He'll pinch it. I've seen him do it!" Spike laughed when Gunn shot up in his seat. "You didn't even get the cards."

"You said he was going to pinch me." Gunn shot a glance between Spike and Angel. Angel shook his head, and Spike just laughed some more.

Spike decided to soothe the young man's fears a little. "No, you're not really in danger, Gunn. You're too butch for 'im and a little too ebony. He likes 'em pretty and blonde."

Lorne nodded. "Like you?"

"Well, of course like m... No!" Spike sneered at the demon. "You sickie!"

"Just a question, Mister Protest Too Much." Lorne leaned over and picked his drink up off the ground next to the couch.

"Reference to Shakespeare?" Wesley asked, amusedly.

"Yup." Lorne said, as he took a sip.

"Very good." Wesley sighed and sat back in his chair. "How did this game turn out like this?"

"Turn out like what?" Angel asked, as he straightened the bills in his hand.

Wesley stroked his upper lip and smiled softly. "With Spike questioning his sexuality and you winning all of our money."

"I'm not questioning my sexuality! I don't have to question something I know the answer to! I sleep with girls. Lots of girls, for that matter!" Spike shrieked in horror.

"Since when? Since Buffy?" Angel asked, stubbornly. "Who has there been?"

"Well, I'm waiting for a special someone. You know, unless Darla comes back from the dead. That's the exception. I got to jump her bones if she comes into town. That's what souled vampires do, right?"

"Dru told me that Spike liked candles during foreplay." Angel's eyes flashed yellow for a moment. "They didn't even have to be lit."

"Oh, hell!" Gunn groaned. "I don't even want to guess what you meant by that!"

Wesley stifled a laugh and glanced over at Lorne. The demon seemed a little redder than he remembered him being.

Spike gasped and shook his head before letting out a less than manly squeak. "Angel likes wearing lacy things against his skin. Says it feels sexy."

Angel quirked a brow and sniffed the air. "Spike likes to spray women's perfume around the room and then twirl in it. He looks and smells like a little girl when he does that. Pretty and innocent, like. Kinda smells like one now."

"Angel used to get drunk, eat oysters, and then throw the shells off of tall buildings at the people below."

"Spike used to get drunk and pass out, 'cause he couldn't hold his liquor."

"My liquor? I could hold *my* liquor, well enough. It was *your* liquor that got me so pissed! Might as well been drinking gasoline. My insides coulda ignited if I had been eating Mexican."

"Mexican what?" Angel asked with a grin.

"Well, I'm not talking chimichangas!" Spike said with a laugh.

"Umm... Excuse me?" A small voice made the men turn around and take notice of a young woman standing in the Hyperion doorway. "Is this Angel Investigations?"

Angel jumped up from his seat and walked over to the woman, offering his hand. "This is Angel Investigations. I'm Angel. Is there any way we can help you?"

"Damn it. We're on a vacation. Didn't he put the sign out on the door like I told him to?" Spike muttered, just loud enough for the woman to hear.

The girl paled as she took Angel's hand, and looked as if she was ready to faint. "I was told by a friend, that if anyone could help me, you could, but I can leave if it will be a problem." She gave a little sigh, let Angel's hand go, and started to back away.

"It's all right. Don't listen to him." Angel smiled invitingly. "What can we help you with?" Angel heard the girl's heartbeat pound just a little bit faster.

"It's my son." The woman pulled a wallet out of her purse and flipped through the picture booklet. She pulled out a picture of a little boy and handed it to Angel. "My friend Missy took him to the zoo early this morning and I haven't seen them since."

"Kidnapper?" Spike turned to face the woman, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Werewolf." The lady pointed out the door. "It's the day before the full moon. She should have had him home hours ago. She would never forgive herself if... I would never forgive myself..." The woman broke into sobs.

Angel patted the woman's shoulder sympathetically. "I know what you're going through. I have a son of my own. He's eighteen now. He was taken as a child."

"Did you get him back?" The lady wiped the tears from her eyes as Angel offered her a nod and a smile. "My little boy has to be okay. You will find him, won't you?"

"We will do everything we can to find your son. Andrew?" Angel read the name off the back of the picture.

The woman nodded. "He likes to be called Andy. Kids are so temperamental at that age. I thought five was a difficult year, then six came around."

"Wait until he's a teenager." Angel shared a smile with the woman and continued, "If you will just give me your number, I can contact you when something comes up."

The woman gave Angel a card out of her purse. "My name's on the top. That's my cell, fax, beeper, home, and work number. If you can't reach me on any of those, try the number scribbled on the back. You will always be able to reach me at that number."

Angel nodded, as he stared at the card.

"I should be getting home. Please contact me if you hear anything. Anything at all." The woman was already walking back toward the door, shoving items down in her purse. She turned back toward the gang and smiled weakly. "I assure you, if you find my little boy, there will be no end to my gratitude." The woman chewed on her bottom lip and sighed, before heading out the doorway into the night.

"If we find little Adam, there better be no end to her pocket book," Spike said, as he slumped down in his chair.

"Spike!" Both Angel and Wesley exclaimed.

"What?" Spike looked over at Gunn for moral support. "I was just saying what was on everyone's mind, right?"

Gunn shook his head. He was half amused, half put off by Spike's display of indifference.

"What?!" Spike pushed himself up out of his seat. "I was trying to lighten the mood, you ponces." Spike walked away from the sources of his annoyance, toward the stairs. "Angel can call me a British mama's boy and you all get a big laugh. I don't get you soddin' gits..." Spike muttered all the way up the stairs.

Angel watched Spike make his journey up the staircase and then looked back at the card in his hand. He flipped it over and read the back. "Huh."

"What's that, Angel Cakes?" Lorne stood up from his seat and sauntered over to Angel's side. He looked over the vampire's shoulder and took the card hostage. He flipped it over and studied both sides, trying to see what Angel found so interesting. Without even realizing it, he broke out in a grin. "Well, ain't that just peachy."

"What's that?" Wesley asked. His interest was obviously piqued, from the peculiar way both Lorne and Angel were acting.

Gunn fidgeted in his chair. He hated being left out of the action, even if it wasn't exactly action packed. "Yeah, guys, what's up?"

"It's seems little Miss Muffin's name is actually Amelie McDonald. So, in essence, we are looking for little Andrew McDonald." Lorne suppressed a grin and continued. "On the back of the card there is a number, and the name written in what can only be called chicken scratch above it is... Lindsey."

"You're kidding." Wesley's jaw grew slack and Gunn just shook his head. "As in, Lindsey McDonald?"

"Are we ever going to be through with those... those..?" Gunn couldn't find the right word, but when he did he knew it would be a doozy.

Spike's approach was a little less than stealthy, as he stomped down the hall and leaned over the stair railing. "Oh, and another thing, Angel..." Spike realized something was off the moment he saw Angel's eyes. They were sullen, with just a slight mix of anger and revulsion. Nothing should cause that look but me, Spike thought to himself. "What's wrong?"

Angel shrugged. "We're going to be sucked into the pit of hell."

"Oh." Spike paused a second and seemed to give the comment some thought. "Well, that's nice."

~Part: 2~ Carnival of the Animals

"Fred, those shoes look beautiful on you. Have you ever worn heels like those before?" Cordelia walked through the door of the Hyperion carrying a bag from Neiman Marcus, with Fred right on her heels.

"No, I'm really not sure they're me." Fred stumbled over her own feet, and sighed down at her shoes. She heard a groan behind her and looked back just in time to see Connor struggle with an armload of bags and boxes. He seemed to be struggling to keep the packages from slipping out of his arms -- and to keep his knees from buckling. "I think Connor may be having a harder time than I am, though."

Cordelia glanced back over her shoulder and smiled at the boy. You couldn't even see his face. She put down her bag and walked back to help him. "Some people will just never get the concept of making more than one trip." Cordelia took some boxes off of the top of the never-ending stack, the boy was carrying, and smiled when she could finally see his face. Connor looked ready to laugh, cry, and snarl, all at the same time. "Better?"

Connor nodded, until he realized the movement was knocking his packages off kilter. "Yes," he said as he pushed the bags up with his knee and almost toppled over.

Cordelia cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Someone be manly and help Connor with the bags!" There was no response. "Well, don't everyone rush to do it all at once!" Cordelia jumped when she heard a crash behind her. She turned to see Connor, empty handed, staring at the pile of packages at his feet.

He looked up at Cordelia apologetically and shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Cordelia shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. It was..."

"What happened?" Wesley walked into the room from the kitchen, and took in the scene before him. Connor was standing over a pile of scattered packages, Fred was staring down at her feet in a concerned fashion, and Cordelia was tapping her shoe while staring at him scathingly. Fred was wearing heels?

"You made Connor drop our bags." Cordelia stated matter-of-factly.

"And the boxes. Don't forget the boxes," Connor added.

Cordelia nodded. "What were you doing that was so important you couldn't help out Connor?"

"You were standing next to him. Why didn't you help him out?" Wesley questioned with a grin.

Cordelia lifted her arms to show off the glittering parcels. "I helped." Cordelia tossed her head back at Fred and grinned. "She can't even walk right now, so I figured I should get one of you guys to do it."

Wesley nodded. "I see. Well, it seems that we have been hired for a job." Wesley pointed back at the office and sighed. "Angel and Spike have been in there fussing for ten minutes. Lorne and Gunn finally got tired of the 'meeting' and left. Lorne went up to his room -- to drink, no doubt. Gunn went for a drive. He's asking around town about a little boy, Andy. It seems that his mother let him go to the zoo yesterday morning with her friend. The woman seems to have been a werewolf and..."

"Full moon." Cordelia finished for him. She shook her head.

"That poor lady. She must be so scared for her son." Fred sighed. "I hate when we have to do jobs dealing with kids."

"Yes," Wesley agreed. "But in our line of work you can't expect children to be immune to any such horror."

"Wesley's right, of course," Spike chimed in, from his place in the office doorway. He had just finished up a lovely little chat with Angel about how it was too dangerous for him to go look for a werewolf alone. He had heard of overprotective parenting, but this was too much. "Lots of demons aren't too very particular about who they maim and kill, like werewolves. Others -- lots of others -- actually prefer smaller, daintier dishes. Innocence is priceless."

"Thank you so very much for that unnerving little display of creepiness." Cordelia sighed when she saw Fred slump down in the nearest chair. "Now look. You upset Fred."

"I did not." "He did not." Both Spike and Fred chimed in at the same time.

"See!" Spike pointed over at Fred. "She's stronger than you people give her credit for, Cordy. I've heard what chicky has gone through and I think she can handle the truth."

"Thank you, Spike. Now shut up." Fred put her head in her hands and shook it. "I love that ya'll care about me, but you can't shield me from everything." Fred sighed. "Always protecting Fred. Protect me from information, pictures, ugliness... I can take it." Fred looked up with wide eyes. "I don't like it, but I can take it."

Spike knew what the girl meant. Everyone in this office seemed to be shielding someone else at every moment of the day. Spike figured it was a meeting of souls, because he was almost sure he had felt a certain warmness pass over him when Fred was talking. It was comforting.

"Spike, I need to get through the doorway, if you don't mind."

Spike looked back at his Sire, oddly. The man was right at his back. "What, you givin' off heat now, Angelus?" Spike stepped out of the doorway and let Angel pass.

"What are you talking about, Spike?" Angel sighed. His childe was being extra difficult tonight. Oh, lucky him. He actually thought he could go on a search for Andy all by himself. It was ridiculous. Spike couldn't take a walk to the Pharmacy without getting harmed in some form or fashion.

"You." Spike pointed at Angel and scowled. "Warm." Spike stopped pointing and stroked his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Nevermind..." he muttered.

Angel nodded and rolled his eyes as he turned his back toward Spike. That was when he saw his son stacking boxes like a stock boy at Wal-Mart. "Connor, what are you doing?"

"I'm ignoring the grownups. It's what teenagers do." Connor fussed with a shoebox whose lid didn't want to fit. Cordelia walked over and bent down to hand him a different lid that had been sitting behind him. He looked at it and exchanged tops. "Thank you." He put the top on the box. It was too big. "Do you think you got enough shoes?" Connor mumbled.

Cordelia grinned and kicked Connor another top. "I haven't had much use for shoe buying lately. Thought it would be a nice change of pace. You know, now that I'm no longer 'Psychic Girl', the clairvoyant Power Ranger."

"Wesley was telling us that a little boy was taken to a zoo... by a werewolf?" Fred piped in. Angel sighed. "Yes. I don't want to take the case, though."

"Why?" Connor stopped what he was doing and looked up at his dad. "Don't you want to help him?"

"Ye..."

"No." Spike interjected. "He doesn't want to help the kid 'cause his daddy or uncle or somethin' is a lawyer."

"Well, that's a bit harsh." Connor commented, as he pushed himself up from the ground. "I suppose a few people here or there might think twice about helping me, because my dad's a vampire, but still..."

"Do any of you remember when he didn't talk?" Angel said, reminiscently.

"When he hated you?" Fred asked, confusedly.

"No, before that. When he was a baby." Angel sighed. "You used to like the ridges of my face. My 'real' face."

"I used to like the ridges of your face," Spike muttered. "Until I knew what they meant."

"Now what are you talking about, Spike?" Angel stomped his foot impatiently. "You didn't know me until you were already turned."

"Yup, but you never showed your face. You showed it when you were feeding or when you were pissed at me. For the first few years, it was only at feeding." Spike paused. "No other face has ever been able to strike so much revulsion and annoyance in the heart of little ol' me."

Cordelia stopped the two men's little argument with a question. "Why are you not wanting to help, Angel? It doesn't make sense."

Angel shook his head. He really didn't feel like answering that question. He felt that if he said it out loud, it just made it all the more true. And what if it wasn't? Of course, other people were named Lindsey and the last name could be a coincidence. It might not even be a man, he told himself.

Wesley realized Angel didn't feel inclined to answer, so he took the initiative. "Spike was sort of right." Wesley pulled out the business card the lady had given them, and handed it to Cordelia. "Angel thinks it may be *our* Lindsey."

Cordelia nodded. "That's nice. Now, why are we not saving this little boy?"

"Yes, shouldn't we help him, anyway?" Fred asked. "I mean... it's not his fault who he's related to."

"Who's Lindsey?" Connor wondered. It was so frustrating sometimes, knowing that even though this stuff happened when he, logically, should have been up and walking around... it had happened before he was born.

"She's a nice girl. I'm sure you'd like her." Spike gave the boy a smile and received a pair of crossed eyes. "Where'd you learn that?"

Connor grinned, proudly. "Fred taught me. She said every 'kid' should know how to cross their eyes and roll their tongue and whistle. It's mandatory."

Fred nodded. "He has the whistle and the eyes down, but he can't seem to master the tongue rolling."

Angel was becoming worried. "What are you doing with my son's tongue?"

"Oh, come on, Sire." Angel shook his head. "You know!" Spike insisted. When Angel just shrugged, Spike decided to give a demonstration. "Like this." Spike made a rolling 'r' and kept it going and going and going...

"That's amazing." Connor gasped. "Will I be able to do that?"

"Kind of." Fred watched Spike, who was two seconds away from getting smacked by Angel.

One. Two. Smack! Angel popped Spike upside the back of the head. "Stop."

Spike continued. It was so much fun, not having to breathe. It came in handy if you had to stay in a big wooden box for a little while, or hide at the bottom of a lake for any amount of time. It also came in handy when you wanted to annoy your Sire. Spike decided enough was enough when Angel looked ready to pop. "That's how you roll your tongue."

"Thank you for the demonstration, Spike. It was enlightening." Wesley chuckled. Angel looked ready to skin the vampire.

Spike nodded. "Of course it was. I'm very educational. Oh, Angel, I'm going to get you back for that hit you got in there." Spike gave his Sire a look that most people would have quivered in fear over only a few years earlier.

Angel just smiled. "I'll be waiting."

"Wait a second." Connor was confused. Hadn't he asked a question? Yes. "I still don't know who Lindsey is."

"I'd rather you didn't." Angel answered. It was true. He wanted Connor and Lindsey to have nothing to do with each other. The last thing he needed was Lindsey to come in and tell Connor what a horrible guy, an evil vampire, his dad was. Lindsey would have every reason to paint him as such. He had cut off the guy's hand... and then there was the whole Darla thing.

"Really?" Connor quirked a brow.

"Oh... smooth, Angel." Cordelia sighed. "Don't you know by now? You say don't and teenager hears do. You say no, they hear yes."

"I say potato, he hears poh-tah-toe?" Angel asked, with a smirk.

Cordelia gave Angel the 'ha ha, very funny' look and rolled her eyes. "Things are never easy."

"Who's Lindsey?!" Connor jumped at the shrillness of his own voice.

Angel eyed his son. He looked slightly stressed. "Are you feeling okay?"

Connor shook his head. "Who's Lindsey and why does he affect your decision making?" Connor asked, more calmly.

Wesley started to answer the boy when Angel put up his hand and stopped him. "I can do it. Lindsey is... an ass."

"Gah. That's more than you told me in the whole time we spat at one another in the office..." Spike mumbled.

"Shut up, Spike." Angel returned his attention to Connor. "He used to work for Wolfram and Hart. He was their golden boy, there favorite. Lilah and he would fight each other for the prize... whatever it was that week. He got out."

"Shouldn't that make him a good guy?" Connor put in logically.

"As good as a sociopath can get, I suppose." Angel stated thoughtfully. "There's other stuff too, of course."

"I hope so." Connor gave his dad a scrutinizing look. "It has to be pretty bad, if it's keeping you from saving a little kid."

Angel immediately felt guilty. Connor was right. Damn it. He was turning away a child, because he didn't like some guy? Lindsey's sarcasm and snideness was enough to condemn his... whatever this kid was to him? No. "You're right."

"And the son shall surpass the father, in wisdom as well as intelligence." Spike patted Angel on the back. "Bright kid you got there. Does this mean we're on a hunt?"

Angel groaned. "Yes."

Spike grinned. "Good. Let's get the weapons then. Tranquilizers, I'm guessing."

"No." Cordelia stated. Everyone stared at her and she smiled. "Not until you all pitch in and help us get the packages upstairs."

Spike's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell." He stomped over to the stack and picked up a couple of bags. He turned back to Wesley and Angel. "You heard the lady. Get the bags. We got work to do!" Spike practically shot up the stairs.

Cordelia grinned, widely. "Now, that's service."

Angel shook his head, as he picked up an armload of boxes. "No, that's Spike itching for a hunt." Angel stood up and followed the path his childe had taken. He stopped to turn around and give Cordelia a smile. "Is it okay, if I admit I'm worried?"

Cordelia nodded. "No."

"Okay." Angel sighed. "I won't."

~Part: 3~ Pigs on the Wing

"This is nasty." Spike picked off a piece of stringy goo that clung to his shirt and flicked it over to the side of the alley.

"Hey, you wanted to kill it." Angel pointed his sword at Spike. "I was completely willing to take care of the job. Anyway, why does it matter? I'm going to end up paying for it, either way."

Spike threw his arms up in the air and groaned. "Oh, what type of torment are you putting your soul though now? Sometimes you really get on my nerves, Angelus."

Angel smiled as he sheathed his sword. "I seem to be doing a lot of that tonight."

"Yup." Spike stated, while trying to fling some extra goo off his axe.

"I was being literal, Spike."

"About what?" Spike dropped his axe to his side and gave Angel a tired look.

Angel smiled at his childe. "About the paying -- I was referring to our clothes." Angel pointed at the pile of sludge that was once a vicious demon. "That is a Feuranurl demon. Someone was bound to get messy. I suppose it was a good thing it was you, now that I think about it." Angel scratched the back of his scalp, thoughtfully.

Spike was feeling kind of dumb for yelling at Angel... again. He didn't know what was wrong. Angel seemed to be ignoring the little outbursts, as if it was a stupid stage he was going through, but Spike just couldn't do that. He hadn't been this tense since Sunnydale, and he just couldn't figure out the common denominator. Spike sighed and decided he should probably answer Angel before the guy started trying to extract his thoughts. "Why is that?"

"After their goop dries..." Spike pointed at Spike's shirt, skin, and hair. "It works as a bleaching substance. You could just stick your head in the leftovers and do your roots."

Spike looked his Sire over closely. "Were you being serious, or was that a crack on my hair? Either way you're a sick, sick man."

Angel grinned and shook his head. "You need to loosen up, boy." After watching Spike's 'I'm not amused' face for a second, Angel turned toward the dead demon and sighed.

Spike scoffed at Angel. He couldn't believe the audacity of it all -- Angel telling him to loosen up? "Yeah, the last time I heard that phrase come out of your mouth, there was some particularly nasty bits of horror you introduced me to."

"Really? Enlighten me. I'm not exactly sure what you're referring to." Angel bent down to look the demon over more closely. It was very dead. It even smelled dead.

"Let me paint a picture." Spike smiled at the memory. "I'm a fledge. Dru brings me home to parade me in front of daddy. You look me over with a sly little grin on your lips. 'Don't be afraid, acushla.' Dru's nibbling on me shoulder and you're appraising the new 'boy'. I'm standing there bent between laughing and running and all I can think is "Am I going to be dust.' Then you smile... kind of sweet like. Tell me to loosen up. You lead me through the house and open a door. You push me inside and, horror of horrors, there sits Darla. She's talking to Penn who's lounging in a chair. Apparently, he was home for a little while and you wanted them to both meet me at the same time." Spike watched Angel closely. He wasn't moving. "I didn't like me step-mum... or me brother, for that matter. But I suppose you were an all right character and, of course, I had Dru for when you weren't."

Angel shook his head. "You were so much like me." Angel heard the scoff before it ever left Spike's mouth. "I am not being narcissistic, Spike." Angel turned on his heels and looked at his childe. "You were your Sire's favorite, headstrong, strong from the beginning, you hated your grand-sire... great grand-sire, whatever."

"Hey, Angel, how do you explain the natural draw of you and me being Sire and Childe -- I mean, in all ways that mattered, you picked up where Dru couldn't handle it."

"I'm your Sire by default." Angel shrugged. "Why does it matter now?"

"I don't know." Spike scratched his head and sighed. "It's just that the slayer never asked me, and you know she was a nosy bird. I thought somebody would be the least bit curious why I call you Sire, when Dru was the one that changed me."

Angel shrugged again. "Everyone assumes I made you, usually. I guess you could set them straight, if it matters."

"It doesn't." Spike bent down beside Angel and hefted the demon over his shoulder. "You might want to put down garbage bags or something. Unless you prefer tie-dyed seats."

Angel got up from his squatting position and hurried to the car. He laid down some garbage bags and tried to help Spike put the demon in the back. Spike had just pushed his hands away and plopped the demon back there. Angel walked around to his side of the car and slid into the seat, starting the ignition. Spike got in next, and they were off. After driving in silence for a mile or so, Angel started getting fidgety. Something was wrong. Spike was being sullen, and he wasn't feeling all that bad. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, wifey. Just go back to your brooding and leave me to mine." Spike looked out at the sky and watched the stars twinkle.

"I'm *not* brooding." Angel sighed.

"Do you think we'll find the kid? He's most likely dead, you know."

Angel kept his eyes on the road. "I don't know. We usually find them, but sometimes..."

"Sometimes they're dead and gone."

"Everybody dies, Spike. We, as vampires, should know that better than anyone." Angel looked over at his childe, who was shaking his head.

Spike looked over and caught Angel's gaze. "Not everybody has to die so soon. We, as vampires, should know *that* better than anyone." Spike paused. "Keep your eyes on the road, Pet. We'll end up killing someone before the night is through. With you driving like that, I'm surprised someone's not dead already."

Angel kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the trip home, but his mind was somewhere else. It was all right, though. He had been driving so much in the last few years that it was second nature to him, by now. When they got back to the hotel, Angel looked between the demon in his front seat and the demon in his backseat. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with either one of them at the moment. "I'll have Gunn get it later. You can go ahead and get changed, and we'll head out, into the sewers."

"I'm going to go get clean so I can get dirty?" Spike smiled weakly, when Angel nodded. "Sounds 'bout right."

Angel shook his head and got out of the car. He couldn't figure out what was up with Spike. The boy had just gotten so morose lately. Angel sighed as he walked in the front door of the Hyperion, then stopped dead in his tracks. There he was, leaning against the front desk, in a nice pair of inexpensive dress pants and a button up shirt which could only be described as periwinkle, and Angel's first thought was that all he wanted to do was to break the guy in half. "Hello, Lindsey."

Lindsey turned around and gave Angel a toothy grin. "Hello, Angel. I was just talking to your son a moment ago. He went to check on his cat, but he should be back soon. He had loads of interesting stories to tell while you were away."

Angel crossed the room until he was only inches from the man. "I truly hope they're not that interesting. Wouldn't want you staying past your welcome." Angel smirked, coldly. "Oh, wait. That happened the moment you walked in the room."

Lindsey's smile widened. "Same old Angel. Thanks for the sign you left on my car, by the way. A pretty little brunette cop pulled me over, 'for speeding', and we had a really nice conversation."

"Hope he didn't fine you too awful much." Angel offered his fake sympathy.

"I wrote you out a bill and left it on your desk, in the office." Lindsey looked past Angel and caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the doorway. "Who's the shadow?"

"He's the guy who knows what darkness lies in the hearts of men." The 'shadow' stepped out of the doorway and walked into the light. "I'm Spike." Spike took a few steps then stopped to look Lindsey up and down. "You're Lindsey?"

Lindsey nodded and waited patiently until Spike was done with his inspection.

Spike grunted and glanced over at his Sire. "This is the guy who gets your guff up? Not much to him, is there?"

Lindsey half-smirked at the vampire and shook his head. "Spike? That would make you William the Bloody, favored childe to Angelus." Lindsey spared Angel a quick grin. "What happened Angel? Where all of the good vagabonds taken?"

Spike stroked his chin, thoughtfully, and let a small smile break loose. "You're all right."

Lindsey gave a small bow and smiled. "Thank you. Coming from a Master Vampire such as yourself, it is a true honor."

Spike laughed out loud. "Don't push it."

Angel grunted. He didn't like that Lindsey was getting along with Spike -- and apparently Connor -- so well. The guy was annoying. Couldn't they see that? Not to mention the fact that he's the bad guy.

"So, he still does that brood thing, where he cuts off the rest of the world and goes to spend time in his own little hell?" Lindsey asked Spike curiously.

"Yup. He's done it ever since I've known him. Some people think it started when he got his soul, but I know better. He used to spend hours staring into fires and thinking of new ways to torment the mass population without getting dusted," Spike informed his new acquaintance. "Now he just torments himself. Stupid pouf. Don't know why I hang around."

Angel looked up at the two men and found them staring at him. "What?"

Lindsey smiled. "We were just talking about what an ass you are."

Angel sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "You guys are getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

Lindsey bent in toward Spike and whispered, "You guys have ghosts?"

"No," Spike whispered back. "But we have super hearing, so your whispers aren't doing you any good."

"I know," Lindsey answered, still in a hushed tone. "It was for the effect."

"Oh." Spike nodded as he drew back away from the young man. "You just may be a loon."

Lindsey smiled and nodded. He wasn't about to dismiss the idea. He was standing in the lobby of the Hyperion, after all. He was conversing with Angel and his family of misfits. Wouldn't the 'normal' population find this all a little absurd? "Actually, I probably am a little... abnormal, but that's not why I'm here." Or it is, but that's not the point, Lindsey thought to himself. "I suppose my sister came in here earlier tonight."

"Last night. It's..." Angel pointed up at the clock on the wall. "...well past midnight."

"You will argue over anything, won't you?" Lindsey sighed.

Spike grinned. "It's part of the curse. See, he can never be truly happy, right? Well, have you ever heard the saying 'If mom's not happy, nobody's happy'? That happiness clause really pisses me off."

"That happiness clause is no longer in effect," Angel reminded his childe.

"Really?" It was Lindsey's first time hearing about that little tidbit of information.

"Yeah, and I think I'll indulge myself. I'm pretty sure I could get a big happy off of sucking you dry." Angel smiled wickedly at the ex-lawyer, and almost patted himself on the back when he saw the young man shiver. It probably was just revulsion, but it was still a reaction.

"God, how I would love to say something extremely naughty right now!" Spike laughed.

"What's stopping you?" Lindsey asked, as he sneered at the older vampire. "You don't seem like the kind of guy that would censor his conversations."

"Not on a usual basis." Spike admitted, as he waved toward the stairs. The other two men looked and saw Connor walking down toward them, holding his cat. "But I don't really want to sway Junior's opinion of his dad. It's an easy thing to do," Spike muttered to Lindsey.

Connor reached Spike's side and looked between his dad and Lindsey. "Are you playing nice?"

"As nice as can be expected," Lindsey told the young man. "I haven't been bitten yet."

"Neither have I." Angel nodded his assurance.

Connor rolled his eyes and looked over at Spike. "Did you redye your hair?"

Spike ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "I'll be right back. I gotta go get this stuff off'a me." Spike turned and headed up the stairs, two at a time.

Connor just shrugged and looked back to his dad. "So, did you find the boy?"

Angel shook his head and glanced over at Lindsey. "So, it's your nephew?" Lindsey nodded and Angel sighed. "Why would your sister let the woman take her son out on a full moon day? She had to know what a risk it was."

Lindsey nodded in agreement. He had told Amelie what a fool she was to let Andy go out with any of her friends. She hung out with many untrustworthy people that had no business taking care of the boy. Especially now that he was living so close to her. When she was at work, he was perfectly willing to watch the kid. He was a smart little boy, and very laid back. "She's an idiot."

"But she does know the risk factors that come with being around werewolves? They're very unpredictable and wild. You can't control them, and it's very hard to contain them. We're going to have to use a lot of force, and there is no telling whether we will be able to put it down without hurting it." Angel walked over to his weapon cabinet and pulled out a dart gun.

"You can't hurt him, Angel!" Connor ran over and grabbed his dad's gun. "He's small for his age, Lindsey said! And it's not his fault he was scratched in the first place."

Lindsey walked over to Connor and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be fine, Connor. His mom's had to shoot him once before. Amelie isn't very responsible, but she's prepared to do what she has to, in most cases. We have to be prepared to do whatever is necessary, also. We owe Andy that much."

Connor smiled at Lindsey, and nodded. He handed his dad the gun and stepped back. "He's a lucky kid, to have an uncle that cares about him so much."

Lindsey frowned slightly and stared down at his feet. "Yeah."

"Wait." Angel stopped the two, and grunted, "The kid is the werewolf?"

"Well, I feel so clean, I'm squeaky." Spike was stomping down the stairs and ruffling his curls. "My hair is under a lot of stress right now. I'm actually scared to gel it. It may just decide to give up and fall out of my head. I start looking like the Master and I'll stake myself."

Angel glanced over at Spike, a look of frustration etched across his face. "Andy's the werewolf."

"Oh. Does that make things easier or harder?" Spike had never fought a baby werewolf before. "Are we still allowed to tranquilize it?"

"Yes." Lindsey rubbed his hand across his face, and groaned.

"Hey, guys! We gotta get down to the zoo, now!" Gunn rushed in the door, holding a ball bat. "I just heard on the radio that there was a wild bear loose in the wild boar display. Sounds kinda werewolfish to me." Gunn saw Lindsey and frowned. "Hello."

Lindsey nodded at the man as he grabbed up a hand full of darts and pushed them into Angel's hands. "Your car or mine?"

~Part: 4~ Bloodflowers

Spike had been questioning Lindsey the whole time they had been on the road. "She's your sister?" He pushed the head of the little hula girl on Lindsey's dashboard and watched it sway. "She doesn't resemble you at all."

"No. I guess she doesn't." Lindsey glanced over at Spike and quirked an eyebrow. "You like Kai Laia?"

"What's that? Some type of fish?" Spike pushed the girl again and watched her hips bob. "Angel needs one of these."

"Kai Laia is her name." Lindsey flicked his right hand at the wobbling doll. "Andy gave her to me for Father's Day last year." Lindsey put his hand back on the wheel and sighed. "His own dad gave him up when he was born. He was a jerk for leaving them. Amelie has been doing her best, I suppose, but Andy needs a male figure around."

"Yup. One with a leash." Spike caught the frown Lindsey had taken on, and shrugged. He really didn't know Lindsey well enough to care whether he was making him upset or mad. In all honesty, he had only ridden with Lindsey to 'keep an eye on him and his evil hand'. Angel was a bitch, he decided. "What's this about an evil hand?"

"It's a long story." Lindsey slowed down to a stop and waited for the light to change. He couldn't believe the situation he was in. Two weeks in LA, and he already needed Angel's help. He flexed his wrists and sighed. On another note, his old truck was sputtering again. He would have to get that checked. Damn.

"Well, I have the time. If you don't have the breath, then give me the footnotes," Spike insisted. "Come on now. Gimme a good story." Spike pointed up at the traffic light. "Pay attention or you'll miss it altogether."

A loud beep from behind made Lindsey jerk his head up and step a little too hard on the gas. He could only assume what special words Angel was calling him back there. "Angel and me, plus sharp pointy objects, equals Star Wars. Good enough story?"

"Riveting." Spike rolled his eyes. "That the best you can do?"

"On short notice. Maybe I'll write my memoirs and you can have first peek. Of course, mine wouldn't be half as interesting as yours," Lindsey thought aloud.

"Well, he never said 'Spike, I am your father.' It was always a given, in my case. And maybe there wasn't as much blood or guts, but that's not what makes a good story." Spike checked the rear view mirror and tried to find his sire's, or at least Gunn's, face in the little piece of reflective plastic.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Lindsey laughed. Was this guy for real? Had Angel really not told Spike anything about him? He figured he wouldn't have been a main topic, but at least he could have been a... subtopic.

"Sure I do," Spike insisted. "Contrary to popular belief, I've read loads of great books, and very few of them were centered on killing and torture."

"I sold my soul to a firm called Wolfram and Hart. In the war of darkness and light, I fought on the side of darkness and won many battles. Blood, guts, and gore have no effect on me any more. Most of my clients were demons of some sort. One guy, a Lirnchurl demon, actually tried to pay me with dog entrails."

"Then he was trying to stiff you. The viscera aren't worth anything unless they come from puppies." Spike looked over at Lindsey, who was now a little paler. ""No effect, eh?" Spike shook his head. "They are used in a spell that gives you your heart's desire. That's why Lirnchurl demons pay with parts. They can't use cash, but they can use magic."

"Oh." Lindsey turned the truck into the zoo entrance and pulled into the yard. "Well, I guess we should get in there." Lindsey waited until he saw Angel and Gunn pull up next to him and step out of the car, closing the doors behind them. He stepped out of his truck, and Spike came around the back.

Spike threw Angel a look and nodded over at Lindsey. "I think we should leave him here."

Lindsey frowned at Spike. "I'll be fine. I might even be able to help with Andy." Lindsey's head jerked when a loud howl broke the silence of the night.

Angel shook his head. "I think Spike's right. You may get overly protective or something." Angel kept a straight face as Lindsey glared at him. "I believe it's in the best interest of your nephew." Angel turned on his heel and made his way to the large gate that protected the outside world from the zoo or, in this case, the zoo from the outside world.

"He threw out the trump, and you know it. Just wait here for us and we'll have him back to you as soon as you can say furry faced nephew," Spike tried to assure Lindsey. He patted the man's shoulder in a sympathetic gesture and watched his Sire size up the wall. After Angel had scaled the barricade, Spike leaned into toward Lindsey and whispered low enough that the older vampire wouldn't hear, "If it were me or Connor, we would be very reluctant to send Angelus in there. Try not to fret." Spike followed in the footsteps of his Sire and scaled the wall with an easy grace. When he landed on the other side he came face to face with a slightly perturbed Angel.

"What took you so long?" Angel's nose flared as he tried to hide his disdain toward Lindsey. It was impossible. "Were you re-reassuring your new bestest friend?"

Spike's mouth dropped open in shock. "You're a psycho." Spike tried to push past Angel so he could get to the main gate and let Gunn in, but Angel grabbed his arm and held him in place. "Could we *not* do this?" Spike tried not to sound like an annoyed child, but it really was no use. In all the technical ways, he was an annoyed 'childe'.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were already making ties with that..." Angel thought of a word that would best suit Lindsey. "...monster." It didn't really describe the man on the other side of the wall. It was just all he could come up with.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you actually cared! Since when do you really care, Angel?" Spike pushed Angel's arm off of him and stared up into brown eyes. "If we're going to do this now, we may as well do it right. You're obsessive."

"This is what you didn't want to do? Throw insults at me? Well, to tell the truth, I'm not too fond of it either." Angel turned to walk away, but Spike grabbed him in very much the same way as he had grabbed Spike only moments before.

"You're also possessive, oppressive, depressive, and suppressive." Spike's voice was calm, but everything else about him was animated. His hands moved as he talked, and his eyes seemed bluer than ever.

Angel gave a small smile and shook his head. "You're not a poet anymore, but you can still rhyme."

Spike shook his head. "Damn it, Angelus! That's what I'm talking about! You know that I never could rhyme."

"Now, you're upset that I gave you credit for something as unimportant as that?" Angel was thoroughly confused.

"Maybe you think it was unimportant, but it mattered to me. It was a part of me. If you never drank Irish whiskey or listened to those horrible Gaelic singers any more, don't you think you would have felt some sort of loss?"

"So, you want to write poetry again?" Angel didn't know what to do to make Spike *not* angry, again. He really wasn't sure what he had done to make him angry in the first place, but he was positive that it was his fault somehow.

Spike was down-right disgusted. Was Angel listening to him, at all? "You are a very daft man, with a very thick skull. Please don't talk to me until you at least pretend that you have filled it with a brain." Spike heard a noise from behind him and looked around to find Gunn making his way up the fence. Spike headed toward the gate in a jog. Gunn was half way over the entryway, trying not to get impaled by the spikes up top. "Any luck?"

"Yes. No thanks to you and him!" Gunn pulled his left leg over the spiked area, and got caught. "Shit." He tugged his leg and lost his hold on the gate, making him tumble to the ground in a heap. Gunn lay there catching his breath and stared up at Spike. "Is it... bad?" he asked, in between deep breaths.

"It's not bleeding," Spike said, as he examined the leg that had gotten caught on the gate.

"No. I meant the rip. These are new pants." Gunn sat up slowly and glanced down at his pant leg. "Well, there goes my paycheck."

"Why did you wear new pants to work?" Spike paused a moment in thought. "Moreover, why do you get paid, and I don't!?"

Gunn pushed himself up from the ground and dusted off the back of his pants. "Why would you have to get paid, Spike? Your blood daddy provides everything for you."

"Blood daddy?" Spike was outraged. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, isn't that what a Sire is?" Gunn tried to look as educated on the subject as he could, but without Wesley to back him up, he knew he was flying blind. He knew nothing of the childe/sire relationship. He knew that vampires were killing machines, on average, and that you had to kill them before they could kill you. That was the natural order of things. Everything about Spike and Angel practically shouted unnatural, and he figured if he could keep up with whatever curse or prophecy came out about them each week, he would be doing all right.

Spike narrowed his gaze at the man and sniffed the air. He turned his head to the side and saw the outline of his sire in the shadows. "Angel wants our help. Let's go."

"Wait. You can read his mind?" Now, that would be neat, Gunn decided, as he pulled out his tranquilizer gun.

"I can read his stance. He thinks we're wasting time... which we are. He can smell the blood in the air. I can smell it, so I know he can. We're close." Another howl broke the night air. "Come on." Spike headed over toward Angel and sighed when the older vampire took a cautious step out of the shadows. He looked tired, but not angry. "Smell it?"

"Blood." It was all he said. It was all he needed to say. Spike knew that there would be carnage around the next bend just as well as he did. Gunn had to have figured it out, by the looks of it. The man was definitely a little less than eager to do this job. Angel reached behind his back and pulled a gun out from under his coat. He handed it to Spike and nodded. "I'll get him to attack me and you shoot. Gunn, you stay here, in case he gets past us."

"What if I miss the wolf and hit you?" Spike watched the smile flitter across Angel's features when he looked back at him.

"You wouldn't miss, unless you were trying. You're better than that."

"What if I miss?" Spike gave his best look of impertinence and Angel had to laugh.

"Just remember who feeds you." Angel said jokingly, as he walked away from Gunn, and toward the smell of blood.

"Yeah, I can't seem to forget." Spike muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" Angel asked, as he looked back at his childe.

"Nothing." Spike loaded the weapon and stalked after his sire.

Angel stopped near the entrance to the gazelles, which were crying out in strangled voices. "He must be a fast little thing." Angel gave Spike a mock-pleading look. "Please don't miss."

"You should trust me, Sire." Spike cocked his gun and cocked a grin. "I always get my man... or dog, whatever the case may be."

Angel ran up to the wall of the gazelle pen and hopped down to the leveled off grazing area. He landed on both feet, crouched low to the ground. He scanned the area and sniffed the air. He couldn't sense any living thing, let alone a wild werewolf child and a pack of frightened gazelle. He got up from his crouching position and walked the perimeter of the pen. There were dead carcasses scattered around the area, but nothing more that he could see.

Then, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He stalked toward the movement in the shadows, and came up behind the darkened figure. He pounced with all of his force and knocked it off of its feet. It grunted and went down with a thud. The figure squirmed and growled, causing Angel to have to tighten his grip to an uncomfortable amount of pressure. The thing would be crushed if they continued like this. "Stop moving, or I'll crush you." The figure's movement fell still and Angel had enough time to realize that the *thing* was really a person... or something that resembled a person. It wore clothes. "Who are you?"

"Mis..." The person gasped out. "Missy. I'm... Missy. I didn't... kill them. I... swear." The woman frantically waved at the dead gazelle and then gripped the cold, damp ground in horror.

Angel let his grip loosen. "Missy? You were the one who took Andy out." He got up from the ground and helped the woman up. She was about five foot ten and one hundred and fifty pounds. She wasn't a heavy woman, definitely no hard task for Angel, but she had gone rigid with shock, therefore very awkward to handle. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you might have been Andy."

"You were going to tackle a werewolf?" The woman asked doubtfully, while she tried to let some of the tension slide out of her body. She reached her right hand over her left shoulder and started massaging away the tightness she found there.

"I have someone up top, there." Angel pointed up to where Spike sat, leaning precariously over the edge of the wall. "He has tranquilizer darts. I was bait."

The woman stared at Angel and took in the details of his person. Handsome man, smooth faced, wearing an expensive pair of shoes. "You're not a hunter, are you?" Missy reasserted herself and shook her head. "That wasn't meant to be a question. You're not a hunter."

Angel shook his head. "Not technically. We were hired to bring him home, by Andy's mom. That's what we intend on doing."

Missy nodded solemnly. "I screwed up, and other people are having to pay for it."

Angel shook his head and glanced up at Spike... who was no longer on the wall. Spike really wasn't the most reliable man to have backing you up. A loud howl/yelp and a tug on his shirtsleeve broke Angel's ponderings. He looked over at the woman, who was frantic.

"That's him. That's Andy. He's being hurt. Help him, please."

Angel reacted immediately. His thoughts, naturally, turned to Spike and his stream of bad luck. He had to get up that wall. As soon as he had thought it, it was so. He had cleared the wall, with little more than a jump. What he saw when he got to the top wasn't really that shocking. Spike was sprawled out on his back, gripping his stomach with one hand and clutching the used dart gun in the other hand. Angel hurried over to his battered childe and leaned down over him. "You all right?"

"I got him twice before he got me," Spike said, with a shaky smile.

"That's not what I asked." Angel pulled Spike's hand away from his abdomen and pulled at his shirt.

"If you wanted a peek, all you had to do was ask." Spike coughed and pushed at Angel's hands. "I would of said no, but at least you would have asked." Spike pushed himself up into a sitting position, and grunted. "He just knocked the air out of me, is all." Spike shook his head, roughly. "There musta been three of 'em."

"Three werewolves?" Angel asked. He didn't even bother hiding his confusion.

"Keep up, Angel. Do you think I would have gotten away without a scratch, if it had been three werewolves? They were men. They had a big sack that smelled like... bloody, puppy breath." Spike jumped up to his feet and glanced behind Angel. "Who's the bint?"

Angel looked around and saw Missy quietly making her way toward them. "Spike, meet Missy."

Spike glared at the woman and took a few threatening steps her way. "It's your fault we're out here."

"I figured Andy needed a day out in the sunlight. Time got away from us and..." Missy took a deep breath and let it out in a hiss. "... he got away from me."

"They're all the same, Angel." Spike nodded slowly, as he stalked toward the woman. "Careless and stupid. That's all that you people are. Your kind disgusts me more than my own kind. That says a lot... Missy." Spike emphasized both syllables, as he stared the woman down. "Your little pup is now in a doggy bag. Who knows what these people will do with him, if we don't get him away from them."

"Well, they can't do anything, now. They'll have to wait for tomorrow. The sun's about to come up." Angel watched the sky and then looked back at his childe, who was still glaring at the object of his annoyance. "Spike, did you hear me? The sun's going to be up in ten minutes. We have to get to the car."

Spike just snorted. "You make me ill."

Angel had stood by and watched the woman turn pale, but he was not going to watch her crumble. "That's enough, boy."

Spike shrugged and turned his back on her. "She's not worth a sunburn." He stalked away from the pair and headed to where Gunn was supposed to be standing watch.

Angel made a helpless gesture to the woman, and then just settled on shrugging. "I'm not going to ask you to excuse his comments. You were very careless. I do believe that you care about Andy, though, and if you know anything that would help us, we would appreciate it."

Missy nodded. "I think I may know something that could be of use."

"Good." Angel said with a small smile. He waited a couple of silent moment and finally grew impatient. "What is it?"

"You should probably check up on his dad. He's a dangerous man. He deals in Andy's kind. Not just that. He also messes around with magicks and demons. We're all afraid of him. Not Andy, mind you, but he's just a kid." Missy took a deep, cleansing breath. "He's a little shorter than me, medium length sable hair, if he hasn't cut or colored it, and his name is Lindsey."

Angel cocked an eyebrow, and nodded. "Of course it is."

~Part: 5~ Tip-Toe Through The Tulips

"Angel, I already told you what he told me to say." Gunn tried to keep his voice calm, as he ran through the list once more. "He actually told me to tell you that you are a..." Gunn thought a moment, and shrugged.

"An ass?" Angel asked, amusedly. What else would Spike call him?

"That's right. He said you were an ass for taking the side of a woman, instead of him. So he decided to ride back to the hotel with Lindsey. That was all he had to say." Gunn sat quietly for a moment, and shrugged again. "I think you both are having issues that run deeper than any of us can swim."

Angel leaned his head back on the seat of his car and looked out the tinted window. "Spike is being weird. You're speaking in metaphors. I don't know whether I can trust Lindsey or not." Angel took an unneeded breath and let it out in a sigh. "I think I'm going crazy."

"Well, let me play doctor." Gunn thought that statement over and looked at his boss. "Not in a gross way."

Angel gave Gunn a wry grin and nodded. "So, Doc, what's your diagnosis?"

"Well, Spike's always been weird, so he's just being weirder. Maybe he needs a hobby or something to get him out of the hotel." Gunn put the idea forward, thoughtfully.

"You just want to get him away from you for awhile." Angel smirked. "You could be right, though."

"Okay, one down. With all the free time that we've had since the apocalypse, I've been reading more. So, we'll put the metaphors off on that. Cool with you?"

Angel silently nodded his agreement and stared out the window at the hotel once more.

"You've never been able to trust Lindsey, so why should you do it now? If Spike wants to trust him, then let him do it. Shoot, maybe he's right. He's pretty perceptive." Gunn grabbed his dart gun out of the back seat and pulled it up front, with him. "So, did Spike mention what it was that attacked him?"

"He thinks they were men. Said they had a big bag and he was pretty sure they had Andy in it. He said it smelled like blood and puppy." Angel looked at his nails and wrinkled his nose. Cordelia would probably point the dirt out before he made it up to his bathroom. "We should get inside."

"Yeah." Gunn nodded. "You want me to drive up to the back or you going to 'Spike' it?"

"Spike it?" Angel looked over and caught the goofy smile on Gunn's face.

"Yeah," Gunn said with a laugh. "That's a phrase Connor coined the other night. Me, him, and Wes got a good laugh out of it. He was talking about how you usually just stick to shadows during the day and Spike takes a big blanket around, so he can run through the sunlight. He 'Spikes it'."

Angel nodded. "He prefers to tempt fate."

"Well, you know your fate already, so you wouldn't really be tempting it, would you?" Gunn couldn't stand this. Angel had always been solemn, but he was never so blatant about it. "Try it on for size. There's a blanket in the back seat -- and Spike should get a kick out of it."

Angel gave Gunn a small grin. "And I'm sure you would find it amusing."

"Yeah." Gunn agreed. Angel started to reach for the blanket, and Gunn stilled his arm. "Hey. What name do you have your bank account under? You know, just in case I'm wrong about the whole fate thing."

Angel grinned and punched Gunn in the shoulder. "It's under Mr. Angel. You can figure the rest out on your own."

"At least tell me whether Angel is the first or last name," Gunn mock pleaded.

"Nope." Angel said, as he pulled the cover over his head and slipped out of the car toward the Hyperion. He broke into a jog when he felt his hands start to singe. He ducked under the shade of the stoop and sighed. "Well, that was pretty... different," he muttered aloud.

"Fun, huh?"

Angel looked over to the darker side of the stoop and saw Spike scrunched in the corner. He had a blanket across his legs and a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. "Why are you sitting there?"

"You don't let me smoke inside." Spike smiled at the cover Angel had still clutched around his face. "You look like a nun."

Angel looked down at the blanket and rolled his eyes. "I always end up looking like an idiot, don't I?"

Spike nodded. "An idiot with nicely coifed hair." Spike pointed at the empty space next to him. There was enough shade for both of them.

"Well, at least there is that." Angel shrugged and took the proffered seat, letting his blanket fall to his side. "Linsey leave?"

Spike nodded. "I told him what happened, and he got real quiet like." Spike waved his cigarette as he spoke. "That kid is important to him. He makes it obvious that he cares about dog-boy, even when he's trying to pretend he doesn't care."

"It's his son." Angel watched Spike's face, as he took a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled the smoke.

"Might as well be," he said through the smoke. "Apparently, he's the only male influence in the boy's life."

"Spike, it *is* his son. Biologically... by blood, his very own son." Angel took in the way his childe pursed his lips, thoughtfully, and then shook his head.

"Of course, he is." Spike took another drag off of his cigarette. "Doesn't really surprise me. He was pretty pissed that you let the pup get away."

"I let him get away?" Angel asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yes, you let him get away. Did you think I would let the guy think I let the boy go, when he was nice enough to take me home in broad daylight? I wasn't fond of the idea of being littered down the highway, you know." Spike tossed the cigarette butt down, and stomped it out with the heel of his Doc Marten. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Well, we can get something when we go inside. I had the refrigerator restocked." Angel got up from his seat and reached down, to help Spike up.

Spike took the offer and groaned. "I'm not talking pig's blood, Angel. I want... waffles. I want waffles, with lots of syrup." Spike dusted off the back of his pants. "Do we have waffles?"

Angel scrunched up his nose and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Well, I guess we'll have to tell Connor to go get some." Spike draped his blanket across his head and opened the door. "Where's Gunn taking your car?"

Angel covered up with his blanket and followed his childe through the doorway. "He's going to go home and sleep, just like any good insomniac would do at seven o'clock in the morning." Angel dropped his blanket when they got into the lobby. He was tired and hungry, so he didn't bother to pick it up. He had perspective... food and then bed. It seemed like a sound plan. Now, if he could only pull it off.

"What are you doing, crazy?" Spike pointed at the discarded cover. "You drop it there and Cordelia will pick it up. Then she'll put it somewhere where we will never find it again." Spike walked over to the blanket and swooped it up. "And you call me a slob." He went over to the closet and threw the two covers down on the floor. He kicked them to the back,  then fought to close the door securely.

"Having problems?" Angel watched Spike wrestle with the old wood door. So much for Master Vampire Spike, he thought, with a chuckle. "You'll never get it done if you try to mush 'em in like that."

Spike used his shoulder to push and then stepped back with a sigh. "I'm pretty sure that I've done enough mushing over the years to be considered a bleedin' Ph.D. in the mushing field, kay? Let me handle this. All I gotta do, is to get the stupid clicker to click." Spike went back to his task.

Suddenly, Angel's perspective changed. Entertainment, food, and then bed. "You sound more British when you're upset."

"Ta, Love." Spike banged the door and it popped... his shoulder, that is. "Bloody, wanking, bastard, piece of shit!" Spike rubbed his hurt shoulder and frowned.

"Now, that was very British." Angel smiled at the scowl that got him. "Kind of in an 'Are You Being Served?' way." Angel thought a moment. "Do they even cuss on that show?"

Spike shook his head. "How should I know? I never paid that much attention. I'm a Python man myself." Spike looked at the door and snorted. "I hate it."

"Are you being weak or impatient, Spike?" Angel walked over to his childe and waited to be given a chance at the door.

Spike saw him standing there and waved his arm at the door. "Be my guest."

Angel took the extra step toward the door and opened it. He picked the blankets up, and placed them on the top shelf instead. Then he closed the door. Well, at least, he tried to close the door. It didn't click. "Well, this is frustrating."

"You're telling me!" Spike tossed his arms up in the air and grunted.

Angel watched his childe's dramatic display and quirked a brow. "It really doesn't matter that much, Spike. It's not like the boogie man is going to jump out of it if we don't close it."

"Ah!" Spike pointed an accusing finger at his Sire. "Knock on wood, you silly Mick, or you have jinxed the hell out of us. Mark my words."

Angel laughed. "You don't really believe in the boogie man, do you? Isn't that something you stop believing in when you are about..." Angel put his hand out from his hip and went up and down about an inch, each way. "...this high?"

"Yeah." Spike agreed. "I stopped believing in him about the time I stopped believing in stories about vampires."

"I still don't believe most of those stories." Angel grinned and shrugged.

"You *were* most of those stories, you stupid poof. Shows how much I listened." Spike punched Angel in the shoulder and grimaced. "Ouch!"

"Ouch? Your shoulder isn't better, yet?" Angel pulled Spike over and pushed around his shoulder blade. "Have you been feeding?"

Spike winced, several times. "What are you doing? Mother henning me? Are you trying to make me froofy, pet?"

Angel pushed Spike away and shook his head. "You can have your waffles, but they are being covered in O-negative. You should be feeding more."

Spike rolled his eyes. "It's not that I don't want to, Dr. Spock. I'll get me 'bloody' waffles, all right." Spike gave Angel an impertinent grin. "It's just that... I haven't been hungry. Not feeding hungry, by any means. When you feel totally gorged out on blood, try to take another bag. Just one more."

"Okay." Angel nodded. "You should still check that out. If the bruising doesn't go down, tell me." Angel turned back toward the closet and charged it with his shoulder. It broke... the door, that is. It cracked and fell right off its hinges. "So much for good workmanship." Angel looked at down at the door, which lay half in the closet and half out. "I'm hungry."

"Well, let's leave it and get you a blood bag. Me, I'm just bored. I'll probably just watch you eat, and fall asleep." Spike followed Angel into the kitchen and waited while he heated up a couple of mugs of blood. "I won't eat it."

"Well, maybe we'll have guests over for breakfast." Angel leaned against the counter and waited for the blood to get finished. The microwave beeped and he took the mugs out, blowing across the top. He sat down and placed both mugs on the table, one in front of him and one closer to Spike. "Just in case you get hungry," he said, as he picked his mug and sipped from it.

Spike nodded. "That was all very domestic. Where's Connor, do you think?"

"Probably asleep, up in his room. He sprawls out on his bed like you do. It's funny." Angel laughed at the mental image and shook his head. Spike had usually slept on his stomach, sprawled out like a giant starfish.

"I don't sprawl!" Spike stated indignantly. "I haven't sprawled since I was a fledge."

"Uh-huh, right." Angel took another sip of his drink and settled back in his chair. He was weary. "You need a hobby."

"I have a hobby," Spike said on a sigh. "I annoy you. It's very fulfilling."

"Maybe you could start scrap-booking." Angel gulped down the contents of his mug and grinned. His stomach was full and Spike was looking at him like he was completely loony. Life was good.

"Could you imagine what the scrapbook would look like?" Spike scoffed. "The little captions over to the side would read, 'Here's me and Dru maiming' and 'There's Angelus and his bint, Darla, shagging their brains out'. You think anybody would be interested in that?"

Angel thought a moment and then shook his head. "Maybe Giles or Wesley. Watchers and ex-watchers are strange animals."

"Connor might get a kick outta it," Spike thought aloud.

"I doubt it." Angel shook his head.

"Get a kick out of what?" Connor stumbled in through the door of the kitchen and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Mornin', sunshine. Sleep well?" Spike grinned at the boy.

Connor shook his head. "No. Cordelia stayed over last night."

Angel scowled at his son. There were way too many implications that went with that comment. "And..."

"Let the boy speak, Angelus. Whatcha worried about? That they got happy on one of your coverlets?" Spike caught the look Angel gave him, and shuddered. "Oh." Spike scrunched up his nose and shook that image away.

Connor sighed and slumped down into the nearest chair. "She made me clean my room. Does that not seem slightly odd?"

"She's a strange, strange woman." Spike decided he should be the one to break it to Connor. Seemed that nobody else found it relevant.

"Ah-hem." The three men turned to find Cordelia, in all her glory, standing in the doorway, holding a black and white fur-ball. "Fur Face here decided to get into my make-up bag. I gave him a bath." She handed the kitten to Connor, who kissed its forehead and then placed it in his lap. "What was that about me being strange?"

"I was just saying how it was strange that you stayed so young and vibrant looking." Spike grinned with satisfaction as Cordelia smiled in that superior way she had. "You know, seeing as how you're getting so old."

Cordelia reared back her hand and smacked Spike upside the head. "I guess from the view point of a guy who can't age with dignity and grace, I would seem older. Jerk."

Spike laughed. "And somehow you never seem to age in vocabulary."

"I'll hurt you." Cordelia pointed in Spike's face. "I was evil, you know."

"Not your fault." Angel reminded her.

Connor put his forehead down on the table and proceeded in ignoring the adults. They were all so childish. He tickled his kitten's chin and it rolled over on its back, out of his lap, and onto the floor. Connor scooped it up before it could assess what had happened to it. Skittles decided it was Connor's fault, and scratched him lightly. He tapped the kitten's nose and it plopped back down on his lap.

"Well, Spike uses that with me all the time and it wasn't his fault either." Cordelia was puffed up and ready to fight. Too bad I've already won, she thought.

"Nope. Not so. Wasn't William's fault. Spike, on the other hand..." Spike beat his chest with one fist. "Big bad, here. Loud and proud, baby."

Angel got up from his seat and stretched. This was all way too much activity for him. He wanted to be sleeping in a less than warm bed right now. Not bantering over who was more evil once. He had them beat by a long shot, anyway. Or, at least, Angelus did. Angel shook his head. Sometimes that confused even him. "I'm going upstairs. Cordelia, see if you can get Gunn on the..." Angel shook his wrist in the air, and sighed. He held his clutched palm up to his ear.

"Phone?" Cordelia put in.

"Yes, that." I want to be asleep, Angel thought with a groan. "See if he checked up on that thing I asked him to check up on. Also, I need you to get Amelie, Andy's mom, in here. I'm going to bed. Wake me up by noon." Angel started for the door.

Spike shook his head. "Two. I'll wake you up at two."

Angel looked back at Spike and the stern look he was giving him. "How about one?"

Spike shrugged.

It wasn't a yes, but it would do. Angel walked back over to the table and picked up the extra mug of blood. He downed it and grimaced. "You're right. It's not that good, unless you're hungry." Angel put the mug down on the table and turned to go. Just as he got to the stairs leading up to his heaven, he heard Cordelia call out to him.

"Hey, Angel!" she yelled. "Those sheets, on your bed, are new and clean. Why don't you wash up before you get in. Your hands are filthy."

Her chiding tone was all it took to make him burst out laughing. If it wasn't one thing...

~Part: 6~ Kate

Angel yawned and rubbed his eyes, before glancing over at the clock -- and cursing Spike's name. He jumped up out of bed and ran over to his bureau, grabbing up the first t-shirt he could get in his grip. "Two-thirty." He slipped the shirt over his head and pulled it down over his chest. After taking a calming breath, he slung his door open and marched down the hall and down the stairs. "Spike!  Buachaill? I thought you said you would wake me up at one!" he screamed once he reached the lobby.

Connor ran out of the kitchen wearing an apron and holding a bowl of cookie dough. "Shh! Spike can't wake you up when he's asleep." Connor nodded his head, in the direction of the couch.

Angel looked over in the direction his son pointed out and sighed. Spike was passed out on the couch, right arm covering his eyes and the left hanging limply over the edge. His nails, chipped paint and all, brushed the hard floor. "Damn it. Now I can't be mad at him," Angel muttered under his breath.

"I'm surprised you didn't wake him up," Connor thought out loud, as he went back to stirring his concoction.

Angel watched his son stir the dough and grinned. That stupid cat was sneaking up on him from behind. It arched up and made a leap for Connor's back. Connor yowled, and dropped his bowl before reaching back and snatching the cat by the skin of its neck. He tried pulling, but the thing had a good grasp on his shirt. Angel walked over to lend a hand. He took a hold of the kitten and squeezed its jowls. It tried to bite him and suddenly lost interest in keeping its grip on Connor. Angel held it over his face and growled at it. The kitten hissed back.

"My two favorite monsters," Connor stated dryly. He took the kitten away from his dad and sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Skits?" The kitten purred and tried to lick its master. "Now you act like you love me. You're a little liar."

"Your dough is still in the bowl." Angel pointed at the surprisingly mess-less mess. "The spoon flew over there somewhere, but you can get another."

Connor dropped Skittles in the oversized pocket of his apron and sighed. "Cordelia said I should try to be more... domestic. I think that means she wants me to be a woman."

Angel shrugged. "I've stopped trying to figure out what Cordelia wants."

"She wants you to try and call that number on the desk over there."

Angel turned to look at Spike, who still lay in the same position as before. "What number?"

"The one on the desk, Angelus." Spike turned over on his side, back toward Connor and Angel. "She also wants you to stop yelling and stomping all over the house. No, wait -- That's me that wants you to do that."

Angel walked over to the desk and picked up the number. "You eat yet?"

"Yup. Had a nummy meal. Connor made me pancakes. Seems that you don't have a waffle iron." Spike turned his head so he was facing his Sire. "That's pretty barbaric, Angel. No waffle iron?"

"Yes, well, I suppose if I were still Angelus, I'd have a waffle iron around somewhere." Angel grinned, wickedly. "Don't think it would have been used for waffles, much."

Spike grinned. "Good point." Spike rolled off the couch and landed on all fours. He got up and stretched toward the ceiling. "How long 'd I sleep?" he asked Connor, who was now stooped down, picking up his stuff.

Connor shrugged and looked up at the clock on the wall. "Three hours?" He grabbed Skittles before he could stick his whole head in the bowl of dough.

"Go back to sleep, Spike." Angel pointed at the couch.

Spike shook his head. "Nope. I see cookie dough and I want a piece of the action." Spike dived at the bowl and Connor yanked it back. All Spike got for his effort was the luck of being smacked with a large wooden spoon. "Ye-ow." Spike rubbed the side of his neck and scowled at Connor. "Jerk."

"Demon." Connor stuck his tongue out at Spike and then broke into a fit of laughter.

"Acting your age is kinda fun, innit, Con?" Spike asked with a grin. The boy's face is lit up like a bloody Christmas tree, Spike mused. "Okay, get your jollies out and go on with your baking. I won't steal any."

Connor gave Spike a skeptical look and got up from the floor. He offered Spike a hand, and the vampire took it gladly. Connor took back his hand and pushed Skittles head down in the pocket yet again. "Dad..... What was it that you yelled, when you came downstairs?"

"What?" Angel gave his son a confused look.

"You yelled something in a different language," Connor informed his dad. "You called Spike something, I think."

"It was Gaelic." Spike grinned at his Sire. "Whatcha call me? I bet it was nasty."

Angel shook his head. "Don't remember."

"You lie," Spike scoffed, then jumped when his stomach growled. "Holy mother!" Spike glanced down at his stomach, then back up at Angel. "I didn't know it could do that anymore."

"That's because, up until now, you've been feeding it." Angel grabbed Spike by the arm, and led him to the kitchen. "You're going to eat something. Preferably blood." He shoved his childe in the direction of the fridge and waited patiently for Spike to do as he was instructed.

Spike scowled at his Sire and rubbed the place where Angel had grabbed him. "Was that necessary?"

"Eat." Angel set his jaw and pointed at the fridge.

Spike opened the refrigerator and pulled out a packet of blood, keeping his eyes on Angel the whole time.

"Now you eat that, and I'm going to go make that call." Angel watched Spike another moment, to make sure he was still getting the blood ready. He left the room when Spike started up the microwave and leaned back against the counter. He headed over to the desk and stopped Connor on his way into the kitchen. "Make sure he eats. He's being weird about his feeding."

"I heard that!" Spike yelled from the kitchen.

Connor just nodded quietly and headed into the kitchen, where Spike stood biting his thumbnail and watching the doorway. "I have to make cookies."

Spike nodded and put his hand out in front of him so he could study his nails. "You're playing babysitter."

Connor put his bowl down on the counter and pulled Skittles out of his pocket. He dropped the kitten to the ground, where it landed on its feet, skittered around the kitchen table, and ran out the door. He gave Spike that wise look which always seemed to remind the vampire of Angel, and shook his head. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do and I don't plan on trying. I happen to agree with Angel, though. You are being strange..... er, lately. I'm kind of worried about you." Connor gave Spike a half grin and turned back to his unmade cookies. He started pulling dough out of the bowl and placing it on the already greased pans that lay out on the counter.

Spike watched the boy for a few silent moments and turned back to the microwave. He opened the door before it could ding and pulled the bag out. He looked at it thoughtfully and bit in.

Angel walked in the room, cordless phone up to his ear. He saw Spike leaning over the sink, sucking down a bag of blood, and Connor slipping a pan of cookies into the oven. Now, this was domestic. "Hello, This is Angel. May I speak to Amelie?"

~~~ * ~~~

"Do you know how much I am willing to pay?" Lindsey hissed into his telephone. He rolled his eyes, as the man on the other side of the line laughed.  "Obviously, you don't. I heard that you have precious cargo, and I want a piece of it. No, not a literal piece! Are you crazy? You have to keep the pelt intact, or it will be worth nothing to me." Lindsey sighed, gustily, and nodded -- to the benefit of no one, seeing as how he was alone. "Yes. I'll double your asking price. No, I prefer to skin them myself. I want it wriggling, too. I won't take him if he's dead or sickly. That's right!" Lindsey feigned a chuckle. "Sick bastards like us have to stick together. Right? Yeah. Don't be late." Lindsey flipped down the cover of his phone and took a deep breath. After very little contemplation, he threw his cell at the wall, where it was effectively shattered.

"Well, that was lovely, Linds." The young woman walked into the room and slumped down in the nearest chair, bouncing her head against the cushion. "Now you are going to have to get a new phone and have the number transferred..... again."

Lindsey waved his hand in the air and grinned cynically. "Evil hand, Katie. What can you expect?"

"Well, I expect you to either train that thing or cut it off." Katie quipped, as she closed her eyes to rest them. She tensed up when she felt a warm calloused palm cup her cheek.

"I thought you liked my hands."

Katie opened her eyes and looked up at Lindsey. He was so beautiful. "I do. When you aren't using that one as a scapegoat. I don't even think the evil thing applies anymore." She covered his hand with her own and smiled, weakly. "You'll get him back, you know."

Lindsey shook his head. "No, I don't know." He pulled his hand back, and walked over to pick up the pieces of his phone that lay scattered on the floor. He scooped up the shards and sighed. "I'll kill them for this."

"I'm not marrying a murderer." Katie watched Lindsey as he threw the broken phone into the nearest garbage can.

Lindsey shrugged. He was already a murderer, but Katie really didn't need to know that. "Two months ago, you told me you would never marry a guy who was divorced."

"Two months ago I didn't know *you* were divorced. Rules are made to be amended." Katie smiled affectionately at the man she planned to make a life with.  "At least, when it comes to love."

Lindsey shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest. "Andy would love you. You're nothing like his mom."

Katie leaned her head back and chuckled. "Does he hate his mom or something?"

"No." Lindsey frowned. "He's five..... or is he six? Anyway, he's too young to hate anyone, let alone his mother. He still feels like he needs her, though."

"Doesn't he?" Katie asked, suddenly very serious. She got up from her seat and took the few steps that divided her and Lindsey. She put her arms around his chest and hugged, tightly. "Doesn't he need her?"

"He's better off without her," Lindsey stated firmly.

Katie sighed and dropped her arms to her side. "You know that most women wouldn't put up with all of this."

"With what? Their future stepson being a werewolf? Kidnappings? A fiancé who is a charming, yet foolish, ex-lawyer?"  Lindsey watched Katie look down at her left hand and smile. She was yet again mesmerized by that tiny diamond glittering on her ring finger.

Katie shook her head, and looked up at Lindsey with a grin. "No. I'm talking about our wedding date. You keep on moving it back. I'll tie you down, get you liquored up, and bring a reverend in, if I have to."

"Gotta love Southern women." Lindsey grinned a real grin. It was the first one in a few days. All things considered, he was a lucky guy. Well, he would be in a few hours, when everything was settled. "Now, if I could only get all of the blasted demons off my back."

Katie shrugged. "Kill 'em."

Lindsey nodded, as he walked over to his window and looked out at his limited view of the city. "We'll see." He leaned on the windowpane and stared down at the chipping paint. "How did I ever get by without you, Katie?"

Katie didn't know how to answer that, so she just sighed.

Lindsey turned to sit on the pane, and smiled. "You keep the monsters at bay."

"Maybe you just started seeing things through rose colored glasses when you started seeing me." Katie watched Lindsey's face fall slightly, and suddenly felt guilty for her comment. "I didn't mean anything by that, Linds. You know I've stopped all of my....."

The phone rang, in the kitchen. Lindsey jumped up from his seat and ran to get it. He grabbed it up and almost wilted when he heard the voice on the other end. "Yeah, Amelie, it's me."

"That voodoo woman there with you? That why it took you so long?"

She sounded pissed and he hadn't even said hello. "Yes, she's here. What does that have to do with anything? You know what? Nevermind. Have you heard from Angel?"

"I can not believe you didn't wait for him to get back to the hotel! You let his houseboy tell you what happened? And since when do you let other people tell you what to do?"

Lindsey wasn't sure whether he should take a leap of courage and fix Amelie's grammar, or not. Probably 'or not' would be the safest bet. "I didn't wait, because I didn't need to. Spike isn't a houseboy, and I only listen to good advice."

"He wants us to meet him at the hotel. He has to talk to us about some stuff. Bring your bitch."

"Oh, you need a ride?" Lindsey couldn't help it. She was so.....

"Just bring the voodoo woman. Maybe..... she can help locate him or something."

Lindsey sighed. He really hoped Katie did decide to go with him. He could use her there with him. "She doesn't practice magic anymore. She said that the last few months magic has been the most volatile form of....."

"I don't want her back story, Lindsey. Just bring her."

Lindsey dropped the phone in its cradle and covered his face with his hands. Again, it was Angel. Everywhere he turned.

Katie walked into the room, twisting her hair up on the back of her head and pinning it with a large clip. "Well, lets go, then."

Lindsey looked up and caught the shine in Katie's eyes. Everything would be all right.

~~~ *~~~

Angel waited patiently for his guests to arrive. Spike was passed out on the couch, catching up on some much needed rest, and Connor was eating a whole canister of cookies, while refusing to let Gunn have any. "Chocolate chip?" Angel already knew the answer. Nothing else smelled like chocolate chip cookies when they first came out of the oven.

Connor nodded and stuffed another small cookie in his mouth. "I think I'll be domestic more often," he said around a mouthful of semi-sweet, chocolatey goodness.

"Come on, Connor." Gunn almost sounded like a kid when he made that voice. "Should put a cap in you, you little cookie hog." A really mean kid.

Angel nodded, as he watched the front door. All he had were questions. What he wanted..... needed, were answers. Lindsey- good or bad? Amelie- victim or...  Where had Missy gone? These men were up to something, but what? A loud bang made Angel leave his thoughts and focus again on the open doorway. There stood Amelie in all of her glory. Hair pulled back in a slick ponytail, make-up done to perfection, and a pair of shoes that would make Versace jump out of his grave and kiss her feet. Angel's first thought was definitely, 'Wow'.

"That son of a bitch bastard is on my tail. If you're going to kill him, now would be the best time. He has his whore with him, so you might want to get help."

Angel's second thought was 'whoa'. Angel jumped up from his seat and jogged up to the door. "Gunn, help now, cookies later."

Lindsey walked in through the door, cursing his ex-wife and her horrible driving. Next thing he knew, everything was dark and he was laying face down on the hard wood floor.

Katie's scream could have broken glass. As a matter of fact, it did. Windows shattered, letting sunlight filter into the room. Angel ran and jumped over the couch, pulling the top so it toppled and served as a shield for both him and his childe.

"What in the bloody hell is going on, Angelus? We being raided?"

Angel shook his head and peeked over the couch. Connor was standing over the limp form of a young, mocha colored woman. She was beautiful and, as of right now, very scary. How had she shattered the windows?

"Are we hiding out here until night?"

Angel looked over at Spike, who seemed to be very confused. "No, I'll get Gunn to bring us some blankets. We'll 'Spike it' upstairs."

"Spike it?"

Angel sighed. "I'll explain later."

"Explain what? Why I'm on the ground?"

Angel shook his head, slowly. "I'll figure it all out..... later." Or, at least, he hoped he would.

~Part: 7~ A Kind Of Magic

Lindsey blinked slowly, and tried focusing on the chair leg next to his head. "Am I on the floor?" he thought out loud, not really expecting an answer. His head hurt and he was pretty sure his neck was screwed on backwards. "Hello?" he called out. "Angel?"

"No. It would only be me." Spike had been keeping watch over the man. He thought it was downright rude to be knocking the guy out before he had a chance to explain himself, but there was really nothing he could do about it. It was Angel's home, after all. "You'll be wanting some Tylenol, then?"

"Hell, yes." Lindsey squirmed and realized that his hands were held tightly behind his back. "Your sire..... He's one kinked out fuck, isn't he?"

Spike walked over to the bureau and picked up a bottle, examining the wrapper. He had to check the dosage. Wouldn't want to kill the guy, in spite of everything. "I suppose. It would depend on who you were asking."

Lindsey became still and tried a few breathing exercises that he remembered from a relaxation seminar during his Wolfram and Hart days. "I'm asking you," he continued, after his heart rate went down a notch.

Spike noted the quickened heartbeat and sighed. He could almost feel the pulse, as if it were his very own, thrumming in his ears and through his veins. "Want Tylenol or do you prefer Advil? I'm sure we have both around here somewhere. How about some Aspirin? I'm not liking that erratic heartbeat you got going."

"Me neither. Give me whatever you've got." Lindsey spit. He had a horrible taste in his mouth and it was about as dry as Angel's sense of humor at the moment.

"I'll get you some water to take it with. You'll never be able to swallow it in that condition." Spike walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He picked up a small drinking glass on the sink and rinsed it out before filling it with water and taking it to Lindsey. He had the glass and a few pills clutched in his left hand. With the other hand, he lifted Lindsey to a sitting position and checked his eyes. "You don't have a concussion. Although, as hard as Angel hit you, I'd say you should. Someone got a charm on you?"

"Not that I know of. Maybe the Devil's just trying to take care of his own." Lindsey tried to make a scowl, as Spike forced his mouth open and dropped the pills inside. Was he a prisoner or a puppy? Was there a difference to vampires?

"Drink the water." Spike was about ready to just let the man choke on the pills and be done with it. Spike sighed when he realized his hostage was drifting off somewhere else. "What is it with LA? Everybody becomes all bloody introspective and broody! You're tied up, man!" Spike pulled Lindsey up by the hair, so that he was almost standing. "You should be spittin' and kickin' and bitin' at me with those wimpy teeth you got there!"

Lindsey smirked and shook his head. He spit the Tylenol out at Spike's feet, and grinned. "Looks like Angel's not the only kinked out guy around here."

Spike grunted and sneered. Lindsey was right about one thing. This whole situation was one big fuck-over. He was supposed to be saving damsels in distress. He was supposed to be massacring the mass population. One or the other. No in between, ta. He dropped the man unceremoniously on the bed and bent down to pick up the discarded medicine.

Lindsey hated the feeling of falling. At least when he was tied up. He couldn't catch himself when he hit bottom. He squirmed around on his back, his own hands pressing in on his spine. A horrifying thought occurred right about that moment. "Katie! Where's Katie?"

Spike jumped when he heard the man's terrified shriek. Some things didn't change, after all. There was always one woman out there for every guy who could be the life or the death of him. "Calm down. She's fine. A little sedated, since she almost gave me such a nasty little sunburn, but she's fine, all the same. Where did you find her?"

Lindsey wasn't paying attention to Spike's line of meaningless conversation. He needed to know some things. "What time is it? It may be too late!" Lindsey pulled at his bonds and succeeded in chafing his wrists.

Spike sighed, as he watched the man fight his bonds in vain. "Stop squirming or you'll bleed on the fabric. Those ropes were made to hog-tie Hefner. I don't think you'll be getting away."

Lindsey became still and sighed. "Don't you mean heifers?"

"What?" Spike asked, clearly confused.

"Heifers? You said 'hog-tie Hefner'. Didn't you mean heifers?"

Spike scowled. "I mean what I bloody well said, but if you prefer....." Spike shrugged. "Hog-tie heifers, it is."

Lindsey groaned and let out a strangled scream. "This is stupid. I need to save Andy!"

"Gods, you've got a lot of spunk and very little train of thought." Spike sat on the bed next to Lindsey, and pressed the man's shoulder down into the mattress to still him. "Now, you are going to take these pills and drink this water and then I'm going to untie you. Got it?"

Lindsey almost thought it was a lie, a vicious joke being played by yet another enemy on a very long list. He decided to just take his medicine and hope for the best. He opened his mouth and accepted the little white pills. Then he took a gulp of the water that was offered to him and washed them down.

Spike put down the cup and in one fluid motion flipped Lindsey over on to his stomach. He started systematically untying the bonds until the other man was 'free'. "It'd be smart of you not to try and run."

Lindsey turned himself until he was sitting upright, and rubbed his raw wrists. "What time is it?" he asked calmly.

"Son las cuatro menos cuarto." Spike grinned at the young man, who sat there confused and more than a little mussed up. "It's a quarter to four."

Lindsey just nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. "I still have time. I need Katie."

"First off, you got to spill your guts." Spike hurried to clear up his comment when he saw the man turn noticeably pale. "What I mean to say is, you need to tell all and tell now. Angel seems to think you may have something to do with this whole werewolf kidnapping thing." Spike noted the way that Lindsey had tensed up and nodded slowly. "He thinks you're a dangerous chap, but you and I know different, don't we?" Spike shoved Lindsey's shoulder in one of those macho 'let's be buds' sort of way and put on a fake grin.

Lindsey took a shaky breath and feigned a grin of his own. "Yeah....."

"Good." Spike got up from his seat on the bed, and walked over to the dresser. He picked up an envelope and threw it on the mattress in front of Lindsey. "Tell me about those pictures, will you?"

Lindsey opened the envelope slowly, and peered inside. Nothing jumped out at him, so he figured he was safe. He pulled the contents out, and realized how wrong he was. "Oh, shit."

Spike nodded. "That's some of the stuff that we pulled up on your girlfriend in just the last half hour. Angel has friends in many weird places. Apparently, he's bestest friends with a few well-informed informers over in Louisiana. Did you know that they did those sort of things with chickens?"

Lindsey swallowed, as he shuffled through the pictures. He knew, but he had never seen. "She doesn't do this anymore." Lindsey put the pictures down, glossy side facing the bed. He looked up at Spike and met eyes with the blond vampire. "She was young. She's changed."

"Perhaps." Spike shrugged, as he paced at the foot of the bed. He stopped and turned toward Lindsey. "But those sort of things don't just leave your personality altogether. Trust me on that. They will always be a part of her." Spike stopped to think, for a moment. "Do you know what they do to werewolves down there?"

Lindsey jumped up from his place on the bed and threw a punch at his captor. His right fist made a direct connection with Spike's jaw, but his left was caught before it could hit his abdomen. Spike twisted Lindsey's arm until he had it pinned in between the man's shoulderblades. Spike pushed Lindsey forward, making the man trip and fall face forward into the bed. Lindsey shrieked and kicked, but to no avail. He was trapped. Lindsey turned his head to the side so he could breathe again. "You prick!"

"How did I get here?" Spike wondered aloud. Spike pushed in on Lindsey's arm, making him wince with discomfort. "In the words of Drusilla, 'you're a naughty boy.' In the words of me....." Spike pushed in on Lindsey's arm when he started to squirm again. ".....I am going to kill you, if you ever do that again. Do you hear me?"

Lindsey stopped moving and nodded, slowly.

"Good." Spike let his grip loosen on the man's arm, and then got up from the bed. Lindsey lay unmoving as Spike took a step backward. "You know, there was a time when I didn't give second chances. You're lucky I've become so accommodating." Spike watched Lindsey thoughtfully, as he rubbed his sore jaw. He could almost see the gears turning, in the young man's head. "You hit like a girl." Lindsey flipped over on his back and gave Spike a disbelieving look. Spike just shrugged. "I just thought you should know."

Lindsey sighed. "I love her."

"You must," Spike agreed. "Love makes blokes like you and me do stupid things."

"You and me? I would hardly say that we are comparable in any way." Lindsey looked around the room in search of a clock, and sighed when he found none.

Spike shrugged again. "Both of us are plagued by my sire, no matter which way we turn. Both of us pretend it bothers us but, in all honesty, he's a good way to pass the time." Spike paused and gave Lindsey a threatening glare. "You ever tell him I said that, and I'll rip your throat out. I've had my pride a hell of a lot longer than I've had my soul, and I will not have it sullied." Spike waited for Lindsey to give some sort of indication that he understood, and then he moved on. "We both have fallen in love with women who were not the best of choices....." Spike drifted off. "I think we have lots in common."

Lindsey nodded. He wasn't really sure that he accepted Spike's train of thought, but he did know one thing. If Spike were behind him in this, he would have more pull over Angel. "I'll tell you everything." Lindsey decided. "But first..... I have a plan and it's really stupid but, if we pull it off, it will save Andy."

"Well, let's have it then." Spike grinned and took a seat next to Lindsey. "Stupid plans are what I do best."

~~~*~~~

Connor watched Gunn, as he sat on the couch, shining the silver off of one of Angel's favorite broad swords. "The yelling stopped." Connor saw the way Gunn flinched and he knew immediately that the man must have jumped to the worst implications in that comment. "Spike wouldn't....." Connor trailed off, and sighed.

Gunn looked up and saw the desolate look that stole across Connor's face. "Naw....." Gunn forced a smile. "He's just gagged 'im or something." Gunn put down the sword and the cloth that he had been polishing with. He got up and walked over to where Connor was standing at the desk. He pulled himself up and sat on the surface, crumpling the papers covering it, as he did. "Or maybe he's doing that vampire thing."

"Sucking his blood until he's dead?" Connor asked dryly.

Gunn rolled his eyes and flicked his hand in a 'yeah right' sort of way. "No, I'm talking about..... You know, Dracula stuff."

If it was possible, Connor looked even less amused. "Who?"

Gunn's mouth dropped open. "You don't know who Dracula is?"

"Well, I can tell you that he never visited Quor-toth." Connor looked thoughtful, for a moment. "I think I might have seen a movie about this Dr....."

"Dracula." Gunn filled in. "He could hypnotize people with his mind and practically make them want to get eaten."

Connor groaned and pushed himself away from the desk. "I think I'll go cook something."

Gunn leaned back on his elbows and watched the boy make his trip to the kitchen. I'll never get the knack for this 'family', he mused. "Try for Teriyaki. That stuff is Heaven on a plate!"

"Bite me!"

Gunn chuckled, and got down from his seat on the desk. He walked back over to the couch and picked up his polishing cloth and the sword. He took a good look at the blade and sighed. The thing didn't really need polishing to begin with, so it really didn't need it now.

A shriek broke the silence of the lobby. "What is going on here!?"

"Cordelia." Gunn turned toward the door and smiled. "We had a party."

Cordelia paced around the lobby, a look of consternation spread across her features. "The windows?"

Gunn nodded and put down the sword. "Voodoo priestess."

"Do they have priestesses?" Cordelia asked, as she bent down to pick up a shard of glass.

Gunn shrugged. "I'm not sure on the details. Angel is upstairs with her."

Cordelia looked around the room and sighed. "This will be lots of work and lots of money. Good thing the curtains were closed."

Gun laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah, they were, but it seems that little Miss Magic yanked them down."

Corelia screwed up her nose and shook her head. "Spooky."

Gunn nodded in agreement. "She didn't look like she had that kind of power but, when she saw Lindsey go down, it was like something snapped inside of her."

Cordelia turned a glare on Gunn and stalked toward him. "When she saw who go down?"

Gunn's eyes went round and his jaw dropped. "Umm..... Lindsey?"

Cordelia nodded, slowly, taking it all in. "Let me guess. This was all Angel's idea?" Cordelia didn't wait for an answer. She didn't really need one. "This better not be another macho pissing contest, between them. If it is, I swear that I'll pack up Fred and my bags and we'll be on our way to San Francisco. See, guy there, I can understand. We're on the same wavelength." Cordelia stopped her erratic arm waving and pacing. "Did you even finish up that case you were on?"

Gunn shook his head. "This *is* the werewolf case."

Connor had been watching the scene from the kitchen doorway. Cordelia was no less animated than he could remember. She was different, though. She's a little airy, but very smart, he decided. She was also staring at him stare at her.

"What?" she asked with a small, sad smile.

She always looks like she pities me, Connor thought. He just decided to ignore it, along with the other fifty-some-odd things he ignored around The Hyperion. "I made cookies, but they're all gone."

"Really? Were they that good?" Cordelia asked with a grin.

No pity there, Connor noted.

"Nobody knows..." Gunn was grumbling. "He wouldn't let anybody try them."

"I let Angel have one. He said he forgot what chocolate tastes like." Connor grinned. "He said it was like tasting it for the first time and realizing it was his favorite food all over again."

"Well, your dad must have been talking about when he was human 'cause....." Everyone looked up at the stairwell, toward the voice. "....he didn't eat human food, when I knew him best. He ate *human* food, but not human food." Spike gave the crowd a grin and shrugged. "What?"

"Why is Lindsey standing behind you?" Gunn asked, with a scowl.

"Because he doesn't want you to take a swing at him and mess up his pretty face." Spike stated, with an oh-so-serious voice.

"Well, he better watch out behind him." Connor nodded up the stairs. "'Cause dad looks pissed."

Spike turned to find his sire, leaning on the banister, only a foot behind them. "Angelus!" he said, with a smile.

"Not technically." Angel smiled wickedly. "But I'm pretty sure he's pissed off too."

Lindsey edged himself backward, until Spike took the initiative and stepped in front of him. Spike sighed and pushed the man back in the direction of all that was safe and human. "Sire, we need to talk."

"About what?" Angel was rubbing his temples. He could almost feel a tension headache building up. Vampires weren't supposed to get tension headaches. They were dead. They were supposed to be physically incapable of getting tense.

Spike took a hold of his sire's arm and dragged him toward the office. "This guy, Lindsey..." Spike's grin grew wider, as he continued, "I don't know if you know it, yet, but he's an effin' genius."

~Part: 8~ Beyond The Mirage

Cordelia tapped on the door lightly, and waited for an invitation to come in. She decided to skip niceties and just go in when she heard none. The young woman was propped up on a mountain of pillows, turned toward the far wall and staring out the window. "You must be Katie." The woman's head dipped, slowly, and rose again. Cordelia decided that it could probably count as a nod and she continued, "I'm Cordelia. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Lindsey?" The woman turned her head, so that she could see Cordelia clearly. "Can you get me Lindsey?"

Cordelia noted the dilated pupils and the red puffiness which came along with crying your eyes out. Cordelia shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry. He's downstairs with Spike. They're trying to convince Angel that they aren't insane."

Katie sat up in her bed and stretched her neck side to side. "Angel? You mean the guy who knocked Lindsey out? If that's what it takes for us to be able to leave, we're going to be stuck here forever."

Cordelia shrugged. ""I don't know. Lindsey seems pretty sane to me. Do you mind if I come in and sit down?"

Katie shook her head and flicked her wrist at the chair that sat a couple of feet away from her. "No. Anything is better than sitting here alone."

Cordelia walked over to the chair and took a seat. "You know, Lindsey always did have a good head on his shoulders, even when his heart wasn't in the right place."

"You just described Lindsey to a tee." Katie smiled, warmly. "You must know him pretty well."

Cordelia sat back in her seat and watched the young woman's face. "Man, you've got it bad, don't you?"

Katie nodded. "Ever since the first night I met him."

"How did you two meet?" Cordelia didn't know whether she was prying too much, and she really didn't care. Katie seemed to not take offence, in any case.

"You really want to know how we met?" Katie cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

If Cordelia wasn't interested before, she certainly was now. She leaned forward in her seat. "Lay it on me."

Katie took a deep breath and let it out, before going into her story of how she found love.

~~~*~~~

It was a blistering hot day and it really wasn't helping that the sun had decided to shine down directly over Katie while she did her gardening. She stuck her little hand held shovel into the dirt and dug up a weed by its roots. She threw the weed over on her 'discard' pile and swiped a dirty glove across her forehead in an attempt to clear away the perspiration forming there. All she really managed to do was wipe a sweaty streak of dirt across her face. What did it matter? She wasn't trying to impress anyone.

"Katie, my darlin', you better get out of this sunlight or you're going to be browner than momma's biscuits." The old woman stood in the doorway, her usually grumpy face twisted in what Katie thought was a smile. "You gonna come inside and get you some ice water?"

Katie looked around her and sighed. To the casual observer she had just made a huge mess that some poor unsuspecting child was going to be forced to clean up later. "Momma Ruth, I need two more minutes and I'll be inside."

The old woman crossed her arms across her massive chest. She looked like a mother grizzly that was ready to attack, but Katie knew better. Momma Ruth ran a home for orphaned and abandoned children. She had a heart that had stretched to all corners of Louisiana, and a type of smart sensibility that Katie had only dreamed of owning herself. "You got your two minutes, chile, but two minutes is all. This is one coonass woman who won't back down when it comes to your health." Momma Ruth gazed up at the sun and then back down at Katie. "You're already the color of rich caramel, girl. White women like me ain't so lucky to be of Creole heritage and coloring. You get killed of sun stroke and we won't be able to envy you anymore."

Katie quirked a brow and sniffed. "Mama Ruth, you are a shameless flatterer." Katie swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed. "On the name of Marie Laveau, I will never understand you."

Momma Ruth swallowed, making a big gulping noise, and cleared her throat. "Child, I thought I told you never to speak that woman's name around here. The children are sensitive to such things."

"Tell me, Ruth. Why are you so scared of Madame Marie?" Katie looked down at her hands and pulled off the gloves she was wearing. She put them down beside her and then reached up to tuck some of her long dark hair behind her ears. She looked back up at the older woman and smiled lovingly. "She just wanted to make the world a better place. She wanted to help people find their happiness."

Momma Ruth's eyebrows scrunched up and became dangerously close to touching. "She was a voodoo priestess, Katie Cat, not a Greenpeace officer. You'll have lots to learn about life and living before you can see why it's wrong to take such forces into your own hands." Momma Ruth reached down and lifted the hem of her apron up so she could swipe the sweat off of her brow. "It's too hot for an old lady like me to be runnin' around outside at this time of day. I'll be goin' in, and I 'xpect you to do the same, in less than a few moments. You hear?"

Katie smiled up at Momma Ruth and nodded. "You know best, Momma Ruth."

"Momma *always* knows best." Momma Ruth gave Katie a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and walked back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

Katie stood up and stretched her long lean frame toward the sky. She looked up at the sun, while shielding her eyes from the direct rays. "My, Mr. Sun, how you sure do shine."

Katie jumped back when she heard a sound like a gunshot. She glanced over toward the noise, and realized it must have come from the other side of the seven-foot privacy fence Mama Ruth had put up two years before. "What, in the name of all that is potent, was that?" Katie took a few steps toward the gate and laid her ear up against it. She heard the sound of a car door slamming and the stomping footsteps of a cursing man. "Well, that sure does raise my curiosity level a bit," she muttered under her breath. Katie took a deep breath and unlocked the fence, swinging it open and stepping out into the back alley behind Momma Ruth's house. "Excuse..." Katie stopped to stare for a moment, and suddenly caught herself. "...me?" she ended in a squeak.

The man stood about five foot nine and had medium length, wavy, chestnut colored hair. His eyes were... shut, but Katie was sure that they would match the rest of him perfectly. He was gorgeous... absolutely beautiful. His skin was a pretty pale color, except for the lightly darkened forearms that probably came along with a hard day's work. Katie thought of a poem she had heard as a child. "In the clear gold of sunlight, stretching their backs, -white as snow- see the voluptuous cats."

The man kicked his back tire and swore against everything holy and everything evil. Apparently, he had lost no love between him and the other forces when his truck decided to die.

Katie cleared her throat and tried to get the man's attention once more. "Excuse me?"

The man looked up with what Katie would have called a glare and huffed. "What now? Am I on your property? Do you want me to put the damn thing in neutral and push it five more feet that way?"

Katie's eyes grew wide and she shook her head. "I was just wondering if you wanted a glass of ice water." Katie took a few more steps toward the stranger and picked at his shirtsleeve. "You're losing more water than you've probably taken in in a while. If you wait here, I'll get you a glass."

The man leaned against his truck. He jumped forward just as soon as he touched it. It was hotter than he was. "Well..." he sighed, as he rubbed his left arm. It was noticeably darker than his right arm, since he had been driving with the window down. Of course, he wouldn't have had to do that, if the air conditioner had worked. "...doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere. For a while, at least." The man looked back at the girl and almost gasped. Her hair was a long, silky brown and her eyes were... violet? Lush peach lips curled up in a smile.

"Good." Katie couldn't help smiling at the man. She had a feeling about him, and it was a *good* feeling. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a good feeling about a man. Katie turned back toward the house and stopped in her tracks. She turned back toward the young man and grinned. "What's your name?"

"Lindsey." Lindsey tried leaning on one hand against the hood of his car, but jumped back again. There was no way he was going to be able to look smooth in this heat.

Katie's heart danced as she watched Lindsey try to recover from the mental fumble. "Well, I'm Katie." She smiled widely when Lindsey nodded and put on a cool look of indifference. "I'll go get that water, then." She headed through the gate and ran to the house. Momma Ruth had to hear about this man!

After lots of conversation about the man's appearance and his bad luck, Momma Ruth decided that she wanted Katie to invite him inside. So Katie took the long walk out to the gate and peeked around the corner.

Lindsey sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He was slumped down on the ground, leaning against the side of his truck. He looked at his white tee shirt and grimaced. It clung tightly to his torso, because it was absolutely saturated with sweat. "Lovely," he muttered, as he covered his face with his hands and sighed again. The beautiful little woman had been very nice to him and he had acted like a bear. Lindsey chuckle when he thought of the girl. Her face was streaked with dirt, as were her clothes, and it didn't take away from her beauty.

Katie grinned for the umpteenth time, and walked around the gate, holding the ice water in front of her. She dipped her fingers in the glass and sprinkled a few droplets over Lindsey's head. The man shivered and jumped, before jerking his head up and glaring at Katie. "You aren't really a people person, are you?" Katie asked, as she handed the man his glass of water.

Lindsey took two or three long gulps of water and sighed after pulling the half emptied glass away. "Why do you say that?" Lindsey laid his head back against the truck door and smiled at the beautiful girl who was serving as shade from the sun.

Katie shrugged. "You just seem to give me more scowls than smiles."

"You wish I'd smile at you more?" Anything you want, darling, Lindsey thought to himself. He smiled again.

Katie smiled back and crouched down in front of Lindsey. "You have pretty eyes."

Lindsey eyes lit up at that statement. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Then you're pretty vain. That's a mark against you." Katie pushed herself up from the ground and smiled down at the man playfully. "You want to come inside? It's not really air conditioned, but we have a load of fans running in there." Katie looked back up at the sky and squinted. "It's a lot cooler than out here, that's for sure."

Lindsey thought a moment and then nodded. "Why not?"

Lindsey and Katie had spent every day together that week, until Lindsey finally had figured out how to fix his truck. They were both pretty sure that they were falling in love and neither really knew what to do about it. Lindsey knew he had to go back to California to fix some family issues and Katie was involved in... things she didn't want to tell Lindsey about. So, things weren't perfect and, as they say, all good things had to come to an end.

"Voodoo? You are into voodoo?" Lindsey raked a hand through his hair and sighed as he paced up and down the floor of the old church.

"Not... into it." Katie tried to sound reasonable, but she only ended up sounding defensive.

Lindsey stopped pacing and turned toward Katie. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to him. After looking into her eyes for a long moment, he smiled. "I didn't say that I was disapproving. I was just... surprised, I guess."

Katie pushed against Lindsey's chest and raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "What are you *into*?"

"What?" Lindsey was really surprised now. He wasn't into anything... anymore, that is. He let go of Katie's arm and took a step back, so that he could have room to pace nervously. "Well, I'm not into anything. I do have a past, as does everyone. You know, like you with your voodoo."

Katie shook her head and grunted. "It's not my past, Linds. It's my present. It's my now. It's my everything." Katie took a seat on the old pew that sat to her left and slumped down in the old cushioning. "I have a gift." Katie looked down at her fingernails and smiled. Momma Ruth had insisted on painting them a pearly white for her date with Lindsey. Of course, she had never expected to end up in the old church. She looked down at her dress and wondered if she should have worn a higher neckline and a lower hemline. Katie smiled up at Lindsey. "Are you afraid of women with power?"

Lindsey grinned and leaned over the pew in front of Katie, so that they were face to face. "What are you talking about? Women with power is a huge turn-on for me." Lindsey looked around the room and sighed. "But power doesn't have to be supernatural. You have a lot of mental and physical power."

"What if those went away?" Katie asked, quietly.

"I'd still love you." Lindsey picked up Katie's hands in his own, and took a deep breath. "You are the most understanding, sweetest person I have ever met. You're beautiful inside and out. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you here to keep me sane. Your lightness and love has won over the darkness in me..."

"Lindsey?" Katie smiled up at Lindsey. He smiled back and nodded. "If you don't end that speech on a proposal, I'll put a hex on you."

Lindsey burst out laughing and pulled Katie into a hug. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he whispered into her hair. He pushed her back for a moment, and made direct eye contact. "But no more hexes, okay? You don't have to do this anymore. It doesn't have to be our everything."

Katie looked thoughtful and then nodded. "I can't get rid of my natural abilities, but no more spells. They're a waste of energy, anyway." Katie paused and nodded, slowly. "Not to mention, chickens."

Lindsey scrunched up his nose and sniffed. "Chickens?"

Katie broke out into a grin. "I'll tell you about it sometime. Until then you could probably watch 'Interview with a Vampire' to get the gist. They have some pretty good scenes in there."

Lindsey pulled Katie into another embrace and sighed into her hair. "That's another thing. No vampire movies, ever, okay?"

Katie chuckled and petted the back of Lindsey's head. "Whatever you say, darlin', but it seems like such a waste. No more Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, or Antonio Banderas in vampire make-up?"

Lindsey pulled back and smirked. "Antonio Banderas looked like a drag queen in that movie, and you know it."

Katie nodded. "A gorgeous drag queen."

Lindsey rolled his eyes. "Okay, so about this living situation. I have to go back to California for a while."

Katie nodded and sighed. "Give me two months and I'll have everything here wrapped up, okay? Just two months to finish up with Momma Ruth."

Lindsey got up from his seat and walked around to sit on the pew Katie was sprawled on. He pushed her over and then, somehow, managed to lay down, half on Katie and half on the pew. He looked over at Katie and smiled. "You tie up loose ends here, and I'll tie up loose ends there, and we can figure out where we want to go from there."

Katie played with a lock of Lindsey's hair and sighed. "California?" She had never really thought about going so far west. It could be exciting, she thought.

"Katie?" Lindsey watched the burst of emotions flit across his fiancée's face and chuckled. "How do you feel about kids?"

~~~*~~~

Cordelia was stunned at the end of the story. She had never thought love could hit two people so fast and just... stick. "And that was that?"

Katie shook her head. "A couple of weeks later, I was waiting for Lindsey to come out of the super market and his phone rang. Well, I let it go. Then it started ringing again. It did that so many times that I almost chucked the thing out the window, but instead I answered. The devil was on the other end, and she wanted child support. Plus, she wanted to tell Lindsey that *his* son was now a monster."

"Ahh..." Cordelia shook her head. "What did you say to her?"

"I told her that Lindsey would be back in a moment and I would tell him that she called." Katie sighed. "She didn't like that. She said that I was just another tramp he had picked up on his journey to find himself and that I should just walk away before he got into my system. I told her he was already in my system and that I was relishing it. That pissed her off."

"I suppose so." Cordelia looked over at the clock and groaned. "It's four twenty. This is the longest day I have ever had to live through. I wonder if the boys are done talking, yet."

Katie looked over at the door when she heard a small taping sound. "Come in."

In walked a man she hadn't seen before, with slick white hair and skin just as pale. He was dressed in all black. He resembled a sort of pretty gutter punk. "Your boyfriend will be up in a second." The man smiled. "I'm Spike. You must be the witch who almost gave me a little burn."

Katie nodded and pushed some hair behind her ears. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it, lovely." Spike walked over to the girl and lifted her chin, so he could see into her eyes. "He was right. They're definitely violet."

Katie smiled when she realized he must have been talking about Lindsey. "Did he say anything else?"

Spike thought for a moment and nodded. "He asked if you were up for a little bit of magical scare tactics."

next

back