The Dalliance of the Eagles

Sequal to: Admittance and Musings

Author: GypsyQueen

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~Part: 11~ Crossroads

"This is stupid!" Spike yelled at his Sire. "We're sitting around looking at a dead girl -- like we haven't seen one before -- and Penn could be one or two blocks away, laughing his arse off!"

"Spike, settle down please." Angel was gripping his head. The headache had started earlier that night and had gotten steadily worse since he saw the young woman on his couch. "You're upsetting Fred."

"No, Angel. No, I'm not. The dead woman on the couch is upsetting Fred. I'm upsetting you." Spike started pacing up and down the floor. "Maybe Gunn should take Fred back to Cordelia and Connor."

"Or maybe I should bring Cordelia and Connor here." Gunn spoke up, after regaining his stomach. "It would probably be better if we weren't split up. You know how that usually ends, in the movies."

"Yeah, the black man always gets killed first." Wesley stated dryly, from his place behind the desk.

"I was supposed to say the punch line," Gunn muttered. "It's funnier that way."

Fred sighed heavily as she took in the picture before her. Lorne sat in a chair gulping down a beer. Fred wasn't sure she had ever seen Lorne drink a beer, let alone gulp one down. Wesley stood behind the desk, apparently pretending that a dead woman wasn't lying on the couch fifteen feet away from him. Spike was ranting and pacing, telling his Sire how stupid he thought he was and how much valuable time they were wasting. Gunn looked like he was trying to figure out whether now was a good time to fight with Wesley, or not. Then, there was Angel. Angel was placid. He had the calmest look she had ever seen, right there on his face. It was very disturbing. "Angel, what's going to happen?"

Angel smiled at the girl and shrugged. "I'm going to bed." Angel turned toward the stairs and headed up to his room. He spared Gunn a glance and smiled. "Get rid of the girl on your way to Cordelia's, okay? Fred, you're welcome to stay here if you would feel safer with me and Spike."

Gunn was trying to figure out what was going on in Angel's head. One glance at the others in the room told him that they were clueless, as well. "You want me to go to Cordelia and Connor, while Fred stays here?"

Angel stopped at the head of the stairs and turned around. "Why do I have to explain everything to everyone? Fred can go or stay. She is safe either way. I need you with Cordelia and Connor. Connor is strong, but he wouldn't be able to take on Penn by himself, especially while he was worrying over Cordy and Skittles. That fine with you?"

"Hey, you're the boss." Gunn shrugged. "Now, about this dead woman..."

Angel sighed. He did have to explain everything. "Dump her in an alley. Someone will find her."

"Angel?" Fred was confused. Just leaving the girl in an alley? That didn't seem right.

"We don't have time to mess with her." Angel stated, now annoyed. Why were they always questioning his motives?

"Oh, and you have time to sit down and take a nap. That's peachy. Well, dream of kittens and fluffy pillows, Sire! Oh, and while you're there, why don't you get mauled and smothered?" Spike was irate, until he caught the look on his Sire's face. "Oh, right then. I get it."

Angel smiled and nodded. His childe was almost unbearably stupid sometimes, but other times... he was just slightly stupid. "Goodnight all." Angel went to his room, in hopes of a disturbing light nap.

Spike chuckled to himself. Of course! Every time Angel closed his eyes Penn seemed to be right there with him. Angel was going to go see if he could find any hints to where the psychopath was calling home. Penn always dropped clues. It made the cat and mouse games he liked so much progress. Which, in essence, made things a lot more interesting for Penn... and a lot easier on Angel. Why hadn't he figured it out before? He was so stupid.

Fred looked over at Spike dejectedly. "He wants her to be dropped off in an alley."

Spike shrugged. He didn't see anything wrong with his Sire's logic any more. It was true. They didn't have time to mess with the dead woman. Spike looked up at Fred and suddenly he felt like a cad. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "Look, poppet, I'm sure that the cops'll find her and then her family will be alerted and all will be right with the world once more." Spike placed a reassuring hand on Fred's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't you worry about it, 'kay?"

"Okay." Fred agreed. "I'll be glad when this is over. Whatever it is. Can I ask a question, though?"

"Yup." Spike figured Fred deserved to know what was going on and whatever she asked he was sure he would be willing to answer.

"Who is Penn and why does he want to hurt you and Angel?"

Spike groaned. He had asked for it, hadn't he? "He's the black sheep of the family. Well, not really. Actually Angel was that for a while, and then I just *had* to join the club, now didn't I? Penn was... he was perfectly molded to be a psycho bad-ass vampire. Problem was, he was just way too predictable. Kinda like a serial murderer. Lots of fireworks, but no real sparks."

"Fireworks have sparks, Spike." Wesley put in, amusedly.

"I need a drink." Lorne headed toward the kitchen with a grunt.

"I second that opinion. I'm gonna have to carry Miss Jane Doe off in a minute. So, I better prepare myself." Gunn followed in Lorne's footsteps.

"Well, Wes, my friend, I really wouldn't know that, would I?" Spike grinned. "I like to stay away from sparks, as much as possible. You know I may be into pain, but I don't believe in self-immolation. Way too sadistic for my taste."

"Said the blood sucking fiend," Wesley stated, on a laugh.

"I really want to lay down." Fred looked around the room and exhaled a long, shuddering breath. "Heh, no couch."

Spike closed the space in between him and Fred and grabbed the girl under the arms. "I'm going to take you upstairs. As in, carry you. That okay, cause you're looking faint?"

"I always look like this. I'm very pale and thin." Fred nodded.

Spike wasn't sure whether Fred was giving her permission to Spike, with the nod, or just restating her opinion of herself. He really didn't care. "You are kinda scrawny," Spike said as he swung the girl up in his arms.

"Can I ask you some more questions?" Fred asked, as she laid her head on Spike's shoulder.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, pet. Ask away."

"Do you like me?" All the sweet looks and honest concern were nice, but Fred wasn't sure whether she liked the idea of a vampire (that wasn't Angel) liking her.

Fred sounded nervous, which almost made Spike laugh out loud. He would have, but he really didn't want to injure the girl's feelings. "You're an alright bird, I suppose. Couldn't 'like you' like you, though."

"Why not?" Okay, so maybe the thought was unsettling, but she hadn't really expected Spike to shoot down the idea that fast!

Fred actually sounded insulted, which made Spike want to laugh all the more. "You're too puny, too smart, too sweet, and way too tempting. Now, shut your yap, say your prayers, and go to sleep." Spike put Fred down on the bed and grinned at the girl. He had put her in the room next to his. He wanted to make sure she was safe, if she was planning on staying here tonight.

Fred looked around the room in awe. How had Spike gotten her here so fast? "How can I say my prayers if I've closed my mouth?"

"See?" Spike pointed an accusing finger at Fred. "That's why I can't like you. That's why Angel can't like you. You are too bloody precious." He hadn't meant to sound angry. Somehow his voice just came out that way. Spike softened his approach and sighed. "Just go to sleep, pet."

Fred nodded, a worried frown etched across her face. "All right. G'night, Spike."

"Goodnight." Spike mumbled, as he shut the door behind him. "Bleedin' innocents. Drive a man crazy, they do. "

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'Hello, Sire.' Penn was lounging on Angel's bed, his right ankle crossed over the left, hands folded behind his neck. 'How are you faring? Well, I hope.'

'I'm doing quite well. Thank you for the little present you left me, boyo. It was a beautiful sentiment.' Angel smiled at his Childe. Penn really looked proud of himself.

'You're very welcome, Sire. I really didn't think you would appreciate it. Though to be perfectly honest, I'm very happy to see that you do.' Penn sat up and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 'You can't trick me, you know.'

'Trick you? I don't want to trick you, darling boy. I want to compel you.' Angel smiled darkly and stalked toward his Childe.

'To compel me to do what?' Penn leaned back and looked up at the towering form of his Sire.

'Don't look so worried, my boy. I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to do.' Angel's laughter came out in small bursts. 'Well, you know what I mean.'

'What is going on, Sire? You are up to something.' Penn wasn't worried, per se. He was cautious. He knew Angelus well, but Angel was still a mystery to him.

'To tell the truth, I just wanted to talk.' Angel sat down next to Penn and bounced on the edge of the bed. "You know, chat. We really should talk about all of this.'

Penn let out a short barking laugh and shook his head. 'Spike's right. You are a woman.' Penn leaned back into his earlier position and grinned at Angel. 'I guess we haven't talked in a while, so I'll humor you. What you like to talk about? Not our feelings, I hope.'

'No.' Angel shook his head, as he pulled his feet up on the bed and leaned back. 'Scoot over. It's my bed. Gimme room.'

Penn accommodated his Sire and sighed. 'It's a dream. You would think that you could make the bed bigger or something.'

'I have no use of the bed getting bigger. Now, do I?' Angel flashed Penn a look and arched a brow.

'No, I suppose not.' Penn agreed. When all else fails with Angelus, you learn to be agreeable. Penn remembered the phrase and he wasn't sure where he had heard it.

'Darla.' Angel grinned at the shocked expression his Childe gave him. 'Yes, I know what you are thinking. It's strange. If I try really hard I can hera clips and phrases of your thoughts. Sometimes I hear whole sentences.'

'Almost like when I was a fledgling. You could almost read my mind then.'

'No. I never really could read your mind. It was a matter of knowing where you came from and what you were going through. Plus, I put a lot of thoughts in your head. I was an evil bastard.' Angel shift uncomfortably in his spot on the bed.

'Yeah.' Penn almost said it affectionately. 'Do you like the ocean?'

'That was a quick change in subject. Yes, I like the ocean.'

'You've stopped talking like Angelus. Now, everything seems... surreal." Penn shook his head quickly, consciously telling himself not to think too loud.

Angel grinned. 'What about the ocean, Penn?'

'You used to like it. I was just wondering if you like it still.' Penn shrugged.

'I guess. All oceans look the same. Of course, when you look at it from all angles, you get a completely different perspective on it.'

'What do you mean?' What a curious thing to say, Penn thought.

'I spent a little bit of time vacationing at the bottom of the Pacific. It was excessively cold and kind of dark. I don't really want to go back that much.' Angel shrugged. 'Maybe for a long weekend, but surely not for the summer again.'

'Angel, I would almost say that you are enjoying this little chat we're having.'

'Almost.' Angel nodded. 'You're still planning on torturing Spike?'

'Yup.'

'See, now that would be the damper.'

'Oh.' Penn shrugged. 'I guess it's up to you to stop me, huh?'

'Yup.'

'I see.' Penn threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. 'I really think it would be in my best interest if I were to leave now. I really would like to stay, but you know I'm into self-preservation and all that.'

Angel nodded. It was all right, he decided, he knew all he needed to know.

'What do you mean about that?' Penn turned toward his Sire, cautiously.

'Nothing, Penn. Goodbye.' For the first time in the last few weeks, Angel left his dreams first.

~Part: 12~ Starry (Starry) Night

"I don't know. I think they've all gone crazy." Gunn shrugged. He really didn't know what to say. Angel had sent him on his way, Spike only seemed interested in Penn's death and Fred's... cuteness was the only word he could come up with and Lorne seemed to be ready to go bar hopping, as soon as possible. Of course, Wesley was a little off, but he had been that way for as long as Gunn had known him.

"They aren't crazy in the 'kill your neighbor' way, I hope. I hate it when they do that." Cordelia was leaning back on a basket-load of pillows. She was watching Gunn pace back and forth, which was really making her nervous, and Connor play with his kitten, which made her want to vomit. He looked much more his age when he was down in the corner making the cat run up the wall and she hated that. Connor, and technically her, had been through so many things in the last few months. Things she remembered in little mind numbing flashes. "Almost as much as I hate it when I do that."

Connor stopped running his fingers up the wall and looked up at Cordelia, which gave Skittles the opportunity to jump up and latch his claws into his forearm. Connor ignored the little parasite, until the pain was unbearable, and he yanked the kitten in toward his chest. "Cordy, do you have a laundry basket anywhere?" Skittles' ears perked up and he hissed at his master, before bolting out of his arms and into the kitchen.

"I'm sure Fred has one hidden around here somewhere. Probably under one of the piles of clothes." Cordelia leaned over the couch edge and picked up a shirt that resembled something a Barbie would wear. Cordelia shook her head and smiled at the shirt. She could never wear such tiny, cutesy clothes. She threw the shirt behind her and leaned back into her pillows. "Why do you ask?"

"Nevermind. I was threatening Skits. I think he got the message." Connor peeked around the couch back and discovered a little furry head peeking back at him, hair raised on end. "Or not." The fuzz ball took a running leap and landed on Connor's head. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail. Finally, he resorted to reaching up and manually removing the kitten from his now bleeding scalp. "I think Spike was right. Oh, God, I hate to say that."

"What was he right about?" Gunn had taken a seat on the big fluffy chair next to the couch. He looked at the boy, who was carefully holding the kitten down while inspecting each and every claw, one by one.

"We need to get Skittles declawed." Connor held Skittles' front two paws together with one hand, and ran his other hand through his hair. He pulled it back and looked at it, just to make sure he didn't have a reason to spank the kitten. He didn't. "You little monster." Connor pulled the kitten up to his face and nuzzled it. To everyone's surprise, it nuzzled back.

"I've seen this before. My mom went through that same thing, when I was a senior in High School. Skittles has menopause." Cordelia was nodding, as she stared at the spackle on the ceiling.

Gunn stifled a laugh, when he caught the bewildered look on Connor's face. Either the boy didn't know what menopause was, or he did and he thought Cordelia was being serious.

"What's men... oh...what was it called?" Connor dropped the kitten, when he just wanted to squeeze it tighter. It galloped around the living room and collapsed on its side when it reached a patch of sun coming in from the window on the far wall. "He's not really sick, is he?"

"Yes." Gunn fought to keep a straight face when the boy turned to face him. "It's contagious too."

"What can you do to make it better?" Connor asked, as he got up from his place on the floor and walked over to pick up his kitten. Skittles saw him coming and hopped up, so he could bolt around the living room. He jumped up onto the coffee table and succeeded in knocking over a small lamp.

"You kill 'em." Cordelia sat up and leaned toward the table, so she could smack the furry flurry of destruction. It felt the whap across its backside and reared up on its back paws. It walked a couple of inches and then hopped off of the side of the table, so it could race around the room again.

"You killed your mom?" Connor was worried, and more than a little confused, by this point. Wasn't murder a bad thing?

"No." Cordelia shook her head and looked thoughtful. "She locked herself in her room with a bottle of tequila and we prayed she wouldn't need anything for the rest of the day."

Gunn grinned widely. "Can we get Skittles drunk? He'll be trippin' all around the room, falling on his little furry face. It'll be fun."

"No!" Connor stalked after his kitty and jumped on it before it could run away again. He tucked it under his shirt and it wriggled its way up his chest, so it could stick its head out of the neck hole. It looked around for a way out, but to his dismay there was none to be found. To show his displeasure, he bit his master's chin and hissed quietly. "Nope, you're not getting away, this time." The kitten tensed up, for a moment, and then slumped into Connor's neck. "That's a good kitty." Connor petted the kitten's head and it purred happily.

Cordelia smiled up at Connor. "Don't worry about Skittles. He's not sick, Connor; he's a kitten. He's hyper and playful, and he has claws. Sometimes he's going to hurt you, but I'm sure he doesn't mean to. He'll settle down when he gets older. If he doesn't, you can get him fixed."

Gunn hissed and shook his head. "It's just so mean."

"Fixed? Is he broken?"

Cordelia shook her head and sighed. "No." It was like Connor was becoming the kid he should have been to begin with. She really didn't know how to react to it. "He's not broken. It just means that you would get him snipped." Connor narrowed his gaze at Cordelia, which looked so serious and threatening she had to laugh. "It won't hurt him. They'll just clip off his..." Cordelia stopped when she caught the look Gunn was shooting her.

Connor looked between the two and started to get suspicious. It was obvious that they were hiding something from him. "What? They clip off his...?"

Cordelia paled. How do you explain something like this to a kid... that you, apparently, slept with. You don't. She threw a pleading look over at Gunn. He shuddered and groaned.

"Okay. Look, Connor. When a little kitty matures, he is filled with urges..." Gunn stopped and shook his head, before letting it hang. "... and you have to..."

"Are you giving me a sex talk?" Connor quirked a brow at Gunn and grinned at his discomfort.

"No." Gunn looked up into Connor's grinning face and scoffed. "Teenagers are annoying. Look, when the kitten gets big, it will want to roam around looking for other cats; girl cats. Before it gets old enough to run away or get mean, most people have them 'fixed'. It mean that you get their..." Gunn put his hand out in a cupping motion and groaned. "... cut off."

"You cut off their testicles?" Connor's eyes grew wide. "That's evil." Connor inadvertently squeezed Skittles tighter to him, as he jumped up from the floor and walked toward the bathroom. "That's sick." He slammed the door behind him and the other two could hear him cooing at his pet.

"Connor slammed the door." Cordelia nodded slowly. "He is officially a normal teenager. You know... if you discount the demon hunting, and his father and step father/brother being vampires."

Gunn burst out laughing. "You're so bad."

"Hey, I've been out of commission for a while. I need to make up for lost time, you know." Cordelia grinned at the man and threw a glance back at the hallway. "How long do you think he'll hide out in there?"

"As long as it takes for him to get used to the idea of his kitten being emasculated. You realize he may never come out right?"

"Yeah, I hope he has enough toilet paper in there." Cordelia snuggled back into her pillow and closed her eyes. Connor was a volatile teenager, Angel was out there saving one of his demented childer, and she was not the main evil at the moment. As far as she was concerned, all was right with the world.

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"The world is doomed." Spike sighed and threw a small pillow at the television set. "They canceled Dawson's Creek, people think Britney Spears wrote 'I Love Rock and Roll', and my roots are starting to show."

"And that adds up to the world being doomed?" Lorne shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "I think you have a strange set of priorities, Sugar."

"Like you have room to talk. Your main priority lately has been to keep L.A.'s alcohol vendors up and running. I haven't seen you without a drink in your hand for the last few days."

"I've been stressed." Lorne shrugged and took another sip of his drink.

"You've been stressed? Well, it's nice to know that you are so worried about my well being, but if it causes you to be an alcoholic, I don't want you to care." Spike lay back on his bed and sighed. "Pass me a beer, won't you?" Spike shot a grin over at Lorne, making the demon laugh out loud. "That's a nice sound."

"What's a nice sound?" Lorne asked, with a grin.

"Laughter. The first thing I wanna do after I kill Penn is tell Angel a joke that makes him laugh his arse off. Then I'm going to give myself a big pat on the back, and reward myself by snacking on Connor's cat." Spike grinned wider, as he got caught up in his reverie.

"You have made bull-shitting into an art form, my friend." Lorne placed his drink down on the nearest table and walked over to the chair across from Spike's bed. He took a seat and groaned. "I've heard that it's a sign of getting old, if you can't get up from your chair or sit down in a chair, without making a noise."

"That's funny. I'm pretty bloody old and I never make those little groaning sounds. Guess it has to do with me be all resilient and tough. Tough as nails, I am." Spike nodded his head and closed his eyes. "I'm not gonna bloody bow out of the race. I'm gonna win it and take home the gold. I'll take that wanker Penn on, and his little dog too. I *will* be the last man standing. You just watch." Spike's jaw was clenched by the end of his little speech, and his hands were balled up at his sides.

"Honey, I tried to follow you, as best as I could, but you were mixing euphemisms. I got lost somewhere around the Wizard of Oz remark." Lorne was two seconds away from downing the drink he had put down only moments before. Maybe Spike was right. He was relying on alcohol too much. What he really needed was some pot. "So, you put Fred in the room next door?"

"Yeah, she's a sweetie. Isn't she?"

Lorne couldn't help but smile at Spike's tone of voice. "I suppose it was your turn to fall in love with her."

"I'm not in love." Spike turned a glaring eye at Lorne and growled. "I know what being in love feels like and it bleedin' hurts. This is a nice feeling. I care about her in a... brotherly way. I feel for her what I felt for Little Bit. It's completely different than being in love. She's not tearing my heart apart." Spike crossed his arms across his chest and turned his back on Lorne.

"Oh. Well, Doll, I wasn't being so literal about the 'in love' comment. We all feel it for her. This affection. She's a sweet, intelligent, refreshing little girl. Why wouldn't we?" Lorne exhaled slowly. "Sheesh... I didn't even have to hear you sing to feel the vibes off of that one. Spike, you have got to let some of this pain out. You're going to go postal, if you aren't careful."

"I'm saving it."

"What?" That was a new one.

"I'm saving it." Spike reiterated. He seemed to believe that the small statement explained his whole mindset.

"What in the world would you be saving so much... crap?"

"Penn, of course. He gets here and I am going to unload onto him. He has ruined my week, and I am going to bloody well make him pay." Spike turned back toward Lorne and sighed. "He's going to get it."

"Yeah." Lorne nodded. "Or he's going to witness your mental breakdown."

"Look, Lorne..." Spike sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. "I've gotten this far. So, I had a little bit of a shock. Dru's dead and I was ready to let her essence go. I'll move past it. Buffy... Well, I'm not even going there. Angel... You see, now this is what pisses me off most of all. I get the guy all happy-go-lucky and then Penn gets him all dark and broody again. He's winning out on that front, and I don't like it."

"I guess you wouldn't."

"Yeah, and how is this for dysfunctional, okay? All I can think is, he may be the oldest, but I'm the favorite and you know what he's thinking? I know he's thinking it too. He's thinking, he is Angelus' favorite, but I will always be the oldest and strongest and fastest... Damn, he is fast." Spike looked slightly less cocky than he had moments before.

"It'll be okay." Lorne leaned forward and laid a comforting hand on Spike's shoulder.

"Is that a premonition or are you humoring me?" Spike asked, warily.

"A little of both?" Lorne pulled back his hand and shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

A knock at the door startled Spike enough to make him jump out of his seat and lunge at the wooden barricade. He took a deep breath and yanked it open, ready for a fight. Just as he did, Angel barreled in through the door and rammed into his childe. Spike swore and pushed himself back up onto his feet.

"Oh, sorry Spike." Angel brushed off the front of his pants, knowing full well that the motion would piss Spike off. He was so proud of himself at the moment that he didn't care. "I have news."

"What? You moving to Uzbekistan?" Spike glared at hi Sire. The jerk was more worried about dusting off his pants than helping him up off the ground. When he looked up at his Sire's face and caught the grin, though, he realized Angel was just teasing him. "You're an ass."

"So you keep reminding me." Angel grinned, all the more. "I think I know where Penn is."

Spike actually jumped, when he heard. "Truly? That's bloody brilliant, Sire. Now you start telling me about it while I go get my weapons." Spike turned toward Lorne with a grin. "This may turn out to be a pretty good evening after all."

~Part: 13~ Empty Chairs

"I got sand in me boots." Spike kicked out his right foot and shook it fiercely.

"What are you doing; the hokey pokey?" Wesley stopped to stare at Spike's little display. He was shaking his left foot now and growling.

"If you two don't hush, you're going to get sand in your mouths." Angel muttered, just within the two men's range of hearing.

"How? I don't remember sand whipping up into my mouth, the last time I was at the beach." Angel shot Spike a look and he nodded, in understanding. "I see. You were making a really wimpy threat, to make us shut up." Spike sighed. "You're stupid, I hope you know."

"Hush." Angel sniffed the air and grunted. "Blood." Angel sniffed the air again and growled. "Penn."

"Umm. Let me guess. Me Spike. You Tarzan?" Spike shook his head and skipped ahead of his Sire. "You're being broody again. Let's make this into a game. Like hide and seek, with killing."

Angel decided to ignore his childe, completely. The only problem was he would keep talking if Angel gave him open silence. "Fred didn't seem too upset when you put her in the cab to Cordy's, did she?" He directed the question at Wesley, in hopes that he would get the hint and carry on the conversation, without complaint.

"No." Wesley obviously didn't get what Angel was attempting.

Angel tried again. "Did you call Gunn and tell him what was up?"

"Yes. I called him and told him about your dream." Wesley grinned and shook his head. "Apparently, he and Cordelia are in the process of trying to coax Connor out of the bathroom. It seems that Gunn explained the process of 'fixing' a cat."

"What a wuss." Spike chortled, but the two men ignored him.

"Why would he do something like that? Isn't that my job department?" Angel stretched his arms out behind his back and grinned up at the night sky.

"What? Explaining difficult things in life, to him?" Wesley asked, with interest.

"No, riling him up." Angel grinned over at the British man, who chuckled under his breath.

"I don't know if that's up to you or not. It probably has to do with what type of father you are trying to be. Are you more interested in being the stern father figure or the friendly, more of a brother type?" Wesley said, in his all too logical way.

"He already has a brother figure, ta." Spike huffed and stooped down to untie his Doc Martins. "I can rile him up enough to drive him crazy, if that's what you want." Spike pulled off one boot after the other, then slipped off his socks. "I hate sand." He picked up his shoes and carried them in the hand that didn't hold a crossbow.

Angel watched Spike closely and shook his head. Some people would sit in agitated silence, if they were upset. Others would talk about it. Spike took the most annoying approach; he sulked, loudly. "Let's check out that abandoned beach house, over there." Angel pointed over to the right and started in that direction.

"How do you know that it's abandoned?" Wesley asked, as he rushed to keep up with Angel's fast pace.

Angel threw an amused glance back at Wesley, making the man nod. "You forget I'm *special* sometimes, don't you?"

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Special can be a relative term, you know."

Spike grinned. "Relative to what, is the problem. In this situation, mental capacity is the most logical place my mind jumps."

"Shut up, Will." Angel tried not to smile, but failed. He just made sure Spike didn't see him. Sometimes Spike's small annoyances could be funny, when he tried to be humorous himself.

Spike shrugged and dropped his boots in the sand, at the bottom stairs, of the house. "So Tarzan, do you think my adversary is in there?"

"No." Angel shook his head. "But I do think he's been staying here. It's also possible that he'll be back. He likes familiarity." Angel started up the stairs and looked back at Spike. "Why, don't you stay here and keep an eye out..."

Spike shook his head and pushed Angel up the stairs. "I'm coming with." Spike looked over at Wesley, who nodded and stood guard at the bottom of the stairway. "Besides, I'm not sure I remember what Penn looks like. Last thing I need is for some wanker to sneak up on me and stake me in the back."

"He wouldn't do that. He wants to torture you first."

"Stop warning me, Angelus. I know what you think is going to happen to me and it's not going to happen."

Spike and Angel stopped on the porch and looked around. The smell of blood was thick in the air. A glass doorway was left open, only a few feet away from where they were standing. Spike took a step toward the open doorway and stopped when Angel grabbed his shoulder. "Be careful." Was all he said.

Spike knew his Sire would follow close behind, but he was given full rein in this 'assignment', with just those two words. Spike crept toward the door and opened it, slowly. He took a step inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Just as he did this, Angel flipped on the light. "Damn you, Angel. Are you trying to blind me?" He growled.

"Chill." Angel took a step past his irate childe and looked around the room. He hissed in disgust.

"Did you just say 'chill'? That was creepy, Angelus. Don't ever do it again." Spike rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands and opened them, letting them readjust to the light. "Oh, bollocks. This is disgusting. Even animals don't sleep in their own filth."

The room was trashed, ceiling to floor. Moth-eaten sheets hung over the windows, all around the room. Cockroaches hissed and skittered across the floor, in an attempt to hide themselves from the light. A bed, which seemed to have been used as a giant sponge to soak up blood, lay in the corner. Spike walked over to the bed and grimaced. On the other side, laid a litter of puppies. Their insides were hollowed out and refilled, with what seemed to be shiny stones. Their stomachs were flapping open. Spike almost had the urge to take the small animals and give them a decent burial. Six dead puppies, one young woman, and a rat had died, so far. What did it all add up to?

Spike turned toward Angel, who was stooped at the other side of the room, reading out of a small book. "It's a journal." Angel took a deep, cleansing breath and read. "Today, I found the perfect man. He was a big hulking man, large and over-powering. He put up quite a fight. He reminded me..." Angel swallowed hard. "... of my Sire. I almost changed him, but I decided that he was unworthy, at the last minute. His last words were 'Tell her I'm sorry.' Maybe I'll try to find out who 'her' is. One thing is for certain, though. I'm going to stick with someone less powerful and more intelligent. I need someone I get on with, someone that compliments me, not just physically, but mentally, as well." Angel put down the book and shook his head. This was his creation... his son.

"He's psychotic. He has to die." Spike reiterated his earlier opinion. After starring at the mess for another moment, Spike continued through the room and headed around a counter that led into a small kitchenette area. He glanced around the area and realized that all the cabinet doors had been pried off their hinges. "Oh gods." Spike dropped to his knees and reached into an open cabinet, pulling out a piece of paper. "Pretty picture. Angel, I suppose this is yours?"

Angel walked over to his childe's stooping form and looked over his shoulder. "Yep." Angel reached down and pulled the picture out of Spike's grasp. It was the charcoal drawing he had done of Spike only nights before.

"It's good." Spike's shoulders slumped. "Looks like me. Looks like me, when I'm scared."

"No, not scared. You were unsure. Vulnerable looking." Angel shook his head. "But still you had those stubborn eyes." Angel smirked. "That's why he took it. That's what he wants to see."

"Well, he's going to be so very glad." Spike stood up from his stooping position and brushed off the seat of his pants. "If it's stubborn he wants, it's stubborn he'll get. Gimme your knife."

"What are you going to do?" Angel asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to return the favor and leave this bugger a prezzie. Now, gimme your knife."

Angel handed Spike his knife reluctantly. It wasn't that he didn't trust Spike. He just didn't trust the grin that had snuck over his childe's features.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Penn dropped the young man, who was slumping in his arms. He looked down at the pale face and lifeless eyes and wondered what he had seen in this one. There was always something, of course. Nobody killed without reason: Human, animal, or demon. Well, some humans did, but not him. There was always something that drew him. He just forgot what it was, sometimes.

Penn walked down the sidewalk and looked up at the stars. It would be moments, seconds perhaps, until someone found the young man slumped against the wall, there. They would either assume that he was a homeless boy, sleeping on the sidewalk, or that he was a drunken teen, passed out against the wall.

Penn sniffed the air and grinned. He could smell the ocean, already. He loved living on the beach. The room he slept in had no windows that let in direct sunlight, especially since he put up those curtains. They were a good idea, he decided. Sometimes people would walk by and try to peek in the house. That was a bad thing, during the day. He could only hope that someone would wander in at night, though. He usually left the door open, just in case a homeless person would wonder in off the streets. They always made nice midnight snacks.

"Hey, honey, want a friend tonight?"

The girl was no older than fourteen, Penn decided. "No thank you, Judy. I don't need a friend."

The girl smiled in, what most probably found an enticing manner. "My name's not Judy, doll, but it could be..." The girl sauntered over to Penn and rubbed up against him. "...if you like."

Penn shook his head and pushed the girl away. "I don't like."

The girl put on a pretty little pout and turned away. "All right, then." She repositioned herself against the wall she had been leaning on and sighed, loudly. "Too bad. You were the prettiest person to pass me by, all night long."

"Really?" Penn gave the girl a harsh little smile. "I saw a little girl on the next street over, who offered to be my sex slave for the whole night. She was, at least, twice as pretty as you. Her legs reached up to here..." Penn made a chopping motion at his neck. ".and she had lips that were rich and red. You look slightly used, darling. I don't know a man with good taste, who would touch such a disgusting little guttersnipe like you."

The girl's face turned pale, as Penn told her his opinion. The worst decline she had ever received was a no. She never expected anyone to lay into her like that. "Okay, I get it. You think I'm ugly."

"No, not particularly. You are filthy, though. A disgusting little tramp. A sick perversion on what women are supposed to be, with your short skirt and tall boots. What is that piece of cloth supposed to be? A shirt?" Penn tugged on the shirt and smiled at the gasp it pulled out of the girl. "Who are you supposed to be kidding? You let men undress you for milk money, but you become the fragile flower when a man who isn't interested in you for sex touches you?"

"Leave me alone." The girl backed up against the wall and started to cry. "It's not like I... I didn't want... I..." The girl gasped for air, but it seemed that her lungs wouldn't cooperate. She wasn't sure, but in the dim light from the street lights she thought she had seen the man's eyes glow. Fear gripped her heart.

Penn pulled the girl into his chest and hugged her. "You poor, sick, filthy child." The girl tried to pull herself out of Penn's grasp, but she failed. He held her tighter, pushing her face into his torso. He squeezed her tighter, until his arms became a crushing vice. The girl gasped, as her ribcage was crushed against Penn's unyielding body. Penn wasn't satisfied until the girl sighed out her last breath. "You're free now," he muttered into the girl's hair, as he kissed her temple. He dropped her to the ground, as he had the man, only moments before.

It was starting to get insatiable. This hunger for death. It wasn't a hunger for blood. That he could deal with. He was truly wanting to kill so may different things, at all moments of the day and night. He figured if he could kill something virtually indestructible it might quench this need.

Penn walked away from the crushed form of the girl he had just killed, and headed toward home. He sighed and shook his head. Virtually indestructible. What was a constant throughout the years? What had always stuck around?

Angelus was ensouled and unsouled as fast as the direction of the wind could change. People died all the time. The ocean would rise and fall. The sun grew hotter and the clouds thinned out. Comedians weren't always funny, policemen weren't always the good guys, and vampires were not always blood sucking fiends. Nothing was a constant in his life. Except maybe one thing. Spike. Yes, he was as easy to kill as any master vampire, but Spike had something that stuck with him, whether he had a soul or not. His will. He had a determination that couldn't be touched. He was so resolute about how he felt on any and every subject. Penn wanted to tear it apart. Kill it, so to speak. He wanted to break him; break William the Bloody.

Before Penn knew it, he was at the foot of his staircase. He headed upstairs and stopped on the porch. He turned toward the ocean and smiled out at the waves. They lapped up against the beach and ran back toward the reefs, over and over. They were a constant, until the change of seasons. Well, he decided, by that time, I will be long gone. Penn took a deep breath and almost choked on it. Angel. Spike. Here. His mind flashed danger signals at him, as he turned his back toward the lapping waves. He prowled toward the open doorway and peered into the darkness. The smell was fading away. They were no longer inside. Why? Had they not realized it was his place?

Penn walked in the doorway and turned on the light. "Shit." His journal was pierced to the wall with a sharp knife. Carved into the wall, next to it, was a message signed in blood. All it read was, 'BRING IT ON BRO!', but the signature was what sealed the deal. It was signed, WILLIAM.

~Part: 14~ Farmhouse

"Son of the Queen, bloody martyring bastard, hell!" Spike jumped up and down while holding his forearm close to his chest. "Why didn't you tell me the bleedin' weapon was tipped in poison?"

Angel chuckled morbidly. "I didn't think you were dumb enough to slice open your own arm. Apparently, I underestimated you, as per usual."

"You always do that. Why do you think that is?" Spike licked his cut, like a wounded dog. He hoped that the healing properties in his saliva would cancel out the poison from the knife Angel had handed him.

"You're just very unpredictable. What can I say?" Angel grabbed Spike's arm and shook his head. "Don't say a word." Angel worked up the inside of his mouth and leaned over Spike's extended arm. He pulled it to his face and gave the wound a sturdy lick, up and down.

Spike's mouth hung open as he witnessed his Sire lick his arm. Then he felt a tingle reach from his arm all the way toward his spine. "Ee-yow!" Spike tried to yank back his arm from the shock, but Angel just held it still, so he could lean back and inspect it once more. "What was that?"

"Sire blood. Don't say anything." Angel narrowed his gaze at his childe and let go of the injured appendage.

Spike shook his head and hugged his arm to his chest. "Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered, as he began to pace. "So, on a lighter note, what do you think I should do about Penn? Torture him, or just kill him and be done with it?" Spike's laugh was on the verge of sounding maniacal, but he really didn't care. "I think I'd like to draw it out... the pain, that is."

Angel shrugged and slumped down into the couch behind him. "If you can catch him, I suppose you can do whatever you want."

Spike scoffed, with exasperation. "Well, aren't you the dour pessimistic pouf I've always pegged you for?"

"Yes, he is." Gunn waltzed into the room, letting the door slam behind him. He grinned at the two vampires and laughed. "I'm returning your son, Fangboy. He's outside with Skittles. The stupid cat jumped out of the car and ran up a tree. You'll never guess what happened after that."

"Let me guess. Little brother magically transformed into a monkey in front of your very own eyes?" Spike grinned as the man nodded. "Yup. He can't just leave the cat up there. Now, can he?" Spike shook his head. "He's like his dad. Don't matter if kitten is happy or not. He has to make sure he's happy with kitten."

"What are you talking about, Spike?" Angel asked, his own exasperation evident.

"Just making an observation, Sire."

"Well, why is it that every time you make an observation, I can't figure out what the hell you're talking about?"

"Oh, well, that could be because of a collection of reasons. Part of it is 'cause you're an insensitive git and the other is 'cause I spent so much time learning from Dru over the years. She was my savior, yes, but she was bloody nutty."

"Hell, boy, what did ya learn from her? How to confuse your Sire in ten words or less?"

"Technically, my statement was more than ten words long." Spike grinned at the groan that statement earned.

"I wish you were alive, so I could kill you."

Spike's grin grew wider. "I knew you were jealous that Dru got the kill and you just got to watch. Voyeurism isn't enough for you, huh?" Spike wagged his eyebrows, causing Gunn to snort.

"I'm starting to think Cordelia is more clairvoyant than she lets on." Gunn sighed. "No wonder that kid of yours is traumatized."

"That's not why I'm traumatized." Connor strolled into the room, cat stashed under his arm, and soaked to the bone. "It's raining."

"You distressed over a little rain?" Spike cast a look over at his Sire and shrugged. "Poor boy would have never made it in England." Angel just nodded in agreement.

"No, Spike. I meant that I don't care if you and dad are..." Connor waved his free arm in the air, in a vague motion. "...you know." Connor lifted his pet up to his face and sighed. The poor thing looked like a drowned rat. It meowed sadly, and Connor brought it to his chest. "I'm upset that Gunn wants to extract my kitten's balls."

Angel's mouth dropped open and Spike laughed. He looked over at his Sire and it only made him laugh harder. That was a look of Angel shock... but what was he shocked over? Was it the fact that his son thought that they were... Ha! Now, that was a laugh riot! Or was it because Connor had said balls? He was more surprised that the kid used the word extract, himself. Kids nowadays were pretty dumb.

Angel shook his head. Him and Spike... what? And Gunn wanted to do what? Which was a safer question. *Ball Extraction for 1000, Alex.* "Gunn wants to do what?"

"He called it fixing, but I call it cruel." Connor hugged his kitten and glared at the man beside his father. "What say you?" He narrowed his gaze and stuck out his chin.

"Umm..." Gunn started. What was he supposed to say? He was sorry? Hell, no. Connor was looking at him kind of evil, though. That couldn't be good. Not good, at all. "...sorry?"

"Ugh!" Connor threw an arm up into the air and let out a string of expletives, directed at the bane of his kitten's balls. {Hehe. I'm sorry. I had to say it!}"We're getting a shower. You people make me sick." Connor stomped up the stairs gracelessly and headed toward his room. Everyone stood in silence until they heard a door slam.

"We make him sick? He bathes in the same water as that monster." Spike scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Almost as gross as you and Dar..."

"It's continuously running water, Spike." Angel shot an annoyed look at his childe. "He sounds like you, when he's stomping up those stairs."

"Hey, don't look at me." Spike threw his hands up in a surrendering fashion. "He's your son."

"God!" Gunn pulled a disgusted look. "You sound like old people."

"We are old people." Spike grinned.

"Old married people." Gunn clarified.

"Well, how cheap do you think I am?" Spike crossed his arms across his chest and snarled. "I'm not marrying anyone until I get a ring." Spike looked at his left hand, in thought. "By the by, I would be the husband."

"You lie." Angel looked alarmed. "I'm *so* much manlier than you!"

Spike shook his head. "Are not."

"Am too." Angel insisted.

"Are not."

"Am too."

"Are not."

"Am..."

"I'm sorry, but are you two fighting over who would be the man in your relationship, if you were hitched?" Gunn was getting more frightened as time progressed.

Wesley and Lorne had been listening from the kitchen and decided to join in on the fun, while there was fun to be had. "Angel would be the man." Lorne grinned at the three 'men' who turned their attention toward him. "No offence, Spike."

"None bloody taken." Spike frowned.

"I disagree." Wesley shrugged. "I think Spike would be the more macho party in their... party." Wesley caught the snarl that Angel was forming. "I don't believe that the Lore applies any more, now does it?"

"Good point. Thank you, Wes." Spike grinned at the British man and stuck his tongue out at his Sire.

"Thanks for jumpin' in, English. Like we needed you and Lorne to make this any weirder than it already is." Gunn looked over at the two vampires and shook his head. "I hate vampires."

"I think you lost a member of your fan club, Saint Angelus." Spike looked down at his arm and realized it was closing, quite nicely. "Thanks, Peaches!" he said with a grin.

Angel quirked a brow. "Haven't heard that one in a long time."

"That's 'cause I know you don't like it. I could call you a lot worse, you know."

"I doubt you could do much worse than Peaches, Spike."

"God, the man just asks for it, don't he?" Spike took a deep breath and started. "You, sir, are an artless, bawdy, yammering, lumpish, tosser. You're a dimwitted, ill-fated, hell-hated, pouf. That good enough for you... Peaches?"

Angel shook his head. "You are a brazen, cheeky, little whelp. You were sent from hell to torment me and the bastards didn't leave a return address. That's the only reason I don't send you back."

Spike screwed up his face. "I'm not too awfully little."

Angel laughed and laid his head back against his seat. "We should probably get ready for my other wayward childe."

Spike gave Angel a sturdy kick in the shin, causing the older man to squeak. "I'm not wayward, neither. I've been behaving myself, ta."

Angel nodded and pulled his leg up to him, so he could rub the bruised area. "Okay, Spike, I see your point."

Wesley was leaning up against the lobby desk and smiling over at Lorne. "They're a mess."

"You talk about 'em like you're their older brother, pet." Lorne smiled, as he said the word. It rolled right off of his tongue, as if he had always said it... just like that. He leaned over and picked up his cup, bringing it to his mouth and sipping.

"I thought you were supposed to drink cold drinks in glasses." Wesley was watching Gunn pace, back and forth, worry etched across his brow. The guy really did worry too much. It kind of reminded him of himself only months ago.

"...and it bothered him, so I decided to cut back. Don't know why, really." Lorne shrugged and looked over to catch Wesley deep in thought. "Plus, I really love when penguins slide down the banisters."

Wesley nodded, at whatever Lorne had just said.

"Thought so." Lorne patted Wesley's shoulder and the man flinched. "Loosen up, or you are going to snap like a wire wound too tight." Lorne took another sip of his coffee and grimaced. Stupid Spike, he thought. "I need more sugar." Lorne made his way back into the kitchen, to fix his drink.

"So, guys, are we going to go get the baddie or not?" Gunn asked, trying to push the last conversation they had into the back of his mind.

"Already taken care of." Spike grinned. He held up his arm for Gunn's inspection and the younger man winced.

"Aw, man. He got you pretty good, huh? It kinda looks inflamed."

Spike shook his head and looked at the wound. "Naw. Actually, I cut too deep. This is looking lots better in comparison to earlier."

"Wait." Gunn put up his hand and gave in to his confusion. "*You* cut too deep? You mean you did that to yourself?"

"He's a moron." Angel threw in casually.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"I'm going to stop there, because I'm more mature than this." Spike stuck his nose up in the air and sniffed. "Hmm... Someone smells like flowers."

"That would probably be me." Connor walked down the stairs, a towel draped around his shoulders. Skittles stumbled down the stairs on his heels. Connor stretched toward the ceiling and sighed. He dropped his arms to his side and looked down at his cat, just as it landed on its fuzzy little face. He looked like a giant black and white cotton ball. "I gave him a bath and blow dried him. He's been falling down ever since." Connor shook his head when the kitten picked itself up and collapsed again. "He must be tired. He ran around Cordy's all day long."

"Well, I hope you're well rested." Spike grinned cheekily. "I expect you to watch my back when I fight Penn."

"I thought you would want me to watch your back." Angel frowned.

"Yeah, I want you too, but you said it yourself -- you can't kill him. I want him dead."

Gunn shook his head and sighed. "Well, I guess I better get back to watching the girls. They're probably beating my score on Tetris by now." Gunn went to the door, then looked back at the other occupants in the room. "Just call me if you need anything."

Angel nodded at the man and gave a small wave. He turned back toward his childe and sighed, while running a hand through his hair. "Hope we won't need him."

"We won't." Connor assured his father. "Between all of us..." Connor threw a look over at Lorne, who was walking back into the room, blowing the steam off of his cup. "Between almost all of us, we should be fine."

Lorne looked up and caught the other guys staring at him. "What?"

The front doors bust open, causing the men to jump. Gunn fell in through the doorway and gasped. "He..." He stumbled forward and landed on his hands and knees.

Angel jumped up from his chair and rushed toward the man, who was coughing violently. "He's bleeding." Angel gathered the man up in his arms and carried him to the couch. "Get the first aid kit and a towel! Get a towel!"

Wesley had rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit the moment Gunn had fallen through the doorway. He came back with the supplies and knelt by Angel. "What do you think..."

"Penn." Angel muttered, under his breath.

"Damn it all!" Spike watched his Sire hold the small dishtowel to the side of Gunn's kneck and shook his head. "It's all my fault. Death follows me."

"Shut up, Spike." Angel sighed. "It's not your fault."

"It is!" he insisted. "I'm going to make it right, too!" Spike hurried toward the door and grabbed his jacket off the coat hanger. "What was it they said before the fox hunt, in old England?" Spike flashed a mischievous look toward Wesley. The man shook his head and Spike nodded. "Oh, yeah. Talley-ho." With that, Spike headed out in search of the fox.

~Part: 15~ Too Much Love Will Kill You

"How very ironic," Spike muttered, to no one in particular. It had taken Spike a couple of seconds to catch onto Penn's trail then he had spent twenty minutes tracking him, just to end up in an abandoned warehouse. "Do any of you 'ultimate evils' out there have an imagination?" Spike asked out loud. "I mean, really! I have fought so many battles in so many warehouses. You would think that I wouldn't be the only one tired of this old platitude." Just as he said it, the warehouse doors slammed shut behind him. "Right." Spike shook his head in frustration.

"Come on, Spike. You had to have seen that one coming. Seeing as how you are the expert on warehouse rumbles." Penn was leaning over the banister, watching Spike down below. Spike was stalking about the room, stealthily peaking around boxes. "What's wrong, Spike? Can't tell where my voice is coming from?"

Spike stopped in his tracks and focused all of his energy on Penn. "What happened to you, that made you wanna' kill me so much?" Spike clenched his fists at his sides and let them go, then repeated the action.

Penn didn't move. He just stared at his 'brother' and waited. The vampire had always been so unpredictable. Who knew what was going to happen in the end? "I died."

"That wasn't my bloody fault!" Spike whipped his head around and searched the darkness more closely.

"Oh. Temper, temper," Penn cooed. Penn slinked his way around the balcony, watching Spike all the while. "What's wrong with your vision? You can't see me in the dark?"

"Oh, I can see." Spike smirked, to himself. "Maybe I'm just looking for something else." Spike grinned into the darkness and glanced up to where he knew Penn would be. "Hello."

Penn leaned his elbows against the railing and put his chin in his hands. "Hi."

"Isn't it about time we finished this?" Spike didn't like the peaceful look on Penn's face. Penn was supposed to be in a rage. He was supposed to be a raving lunatic. "Why are you hiding up there? You scared?"

"How low have you reached?" Penn stood up straight and gripped his hands behind his back. "Sinking so deep in your own wretchedness that you think you can simply make me upset and force me into an attack."

Spike arched a brow and sighed. "I think you tried putting more than one thought into that sentence. Dru used to do that. She was nuts." Spike nodded slowly and bit his bottom lip.

Penn's nose flared, but there was no other outward sign that he had even heard Spike's comment. Then he smiled. "She did do that, didn't she? That is... before I killed her."

"You son of a bitch. You are..." Spike took a deep, unneeded breath, and let it out in a hiss. "...not going to get the best of me."

"She cried out for you, if it makes you feel any better. Well, she called out for her daddy. I only supposed that was you. It is, right?" Penn smiled sweetly and all but batted his eyes. He stopped when he heard Spike growl. "It's not? Then who could it be?" Penn grinned knowingly. "All roads lead to Angelus, don't they?"

"They always have," Spike snarled. "You just figuring it out?"

"You sound jealous." Penn took a few steps toward the stairway which led down from the balcony.

"Not jealous. Resigned. I've always known who was the figurehead in the family, between the two of us. The thing is, Angelus is on sabbatical, and Angel is in control." Spike watched Penn, as he reached the top of the stairs. "So, we gonna fight, or what? I'm tired of just shooting the breeze. I want blood and guts covering this floor, preferably yours."

"I don't want to fight you, Spike." Penn took a soft breath and sighed.

"What'd you wanna do, mum? Kiss me goodnight and tuck me into bed?" Spike grimaced, when he caught the sly grin spreading across Penn's face. "You are a sickie."

"You used to find me amusing. Oh wait." Penn looked thoughtful. "No, you didn't. I found you amusing. You found me imposing." Penn smiled smugly. "You still find me slightly impressive, doncha'?"

"You conceited prick." Spike couldn't hold back the snarl. "Why did Angelus sire you in the first place?"

"Probably because I'm so very pretty." Penn stopped to think a moment, then shook his head. "No, it's most likely because I'm so talented."

As quick as Spike could blink, Penn was out of sight. "Oh, you want to play hide and seek, do you?" Spike sniffed the air and shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll play then." Spike headed up the stairs, stealthily. It was mostly a matter of pride that made him keep quiet. He knew that, most likely, Penn was watching him make his way upstairs, but there was no reason he should be able to hear him.

"Spike."

It was a whispered breath across the back of Spike's neck. He whipped his arm about, hoping to get a hit in, but to no avail. Penn had already moved from sight. "Okay, I admit. That's creepy." Spike heard a stifled chuckled and sprinted toward the sound. "Come on, Penn. Let's finish this."

"All right."

Spike turned toward the voice, just to have a fist land in his jaw. The next punch came, but Spike was ready. He blocked the jab and grabbed Penn's arm at the wrist and the elbow.

Penn grinned and shook his head. He used his free arm to backhand Spike across the mouth.

Spike freed his hands and growled. He jumped back to get a bit of perspective. Then, he took a chance and leapt at Penn's throat. He used all of his power, and succeeded in knocking the older vampire off his feet. Penn lay sprawled beneath Spike's rigid form. Spike let loose a series of punches and jabs aimed at Penn's face. The older vampire just laughed.

Penn pressed himself into the ground and braced his legs. He took an unneeded breath and jerked his whole body up off the floor. Spike fell to the ground and Penn watched him collapse haphazardously, as he idly licked at his bleeding lip.

Spike shook off the dizzy feeling the fall had given him, and jumped back up on his feet. "Ready to get whipped?" Spike pulled up his fists and hopped from one foot to the other.

Penn feigned a yawn and cracked his neck from side to side. "You promise to try this time? I'm starting to get bored."

Spike grunted as he kicked Penn in the gut. He put all of his force into it and accomplished knocking Penn back into a large wooden crate.

Penn pushed himself up off the crate and groaned. He shook his head and set demon eyes on Spike's unmoving form. "You're stronger than you used to be," he snarled.

"I used to be a poet. Lost my lyrics a long time ago, ta. Gained some brawn as I got older." Spike was jumping in his spot, as he watched his 'brother's' face slowly morph into its natural form. "Never seen it take that long to go from one face to the other," Spike said, with a slight tone of wonderment.

"Aww... Come on, Spike," Penn purred through newly sharpened teeth. "I'm starting to think that you're not really into this." Penn grinned lasciviously. "You want to put this off? You know, until you're ready to commit to this fight?"

"No. I'm ready." Spike shook his head. "I'll wipe the floor with you."

"Then do it." Penn growled and lunged at Spike, catching the younger vampire off balance. "I'd like to meet the darker side of you, my boy." Penn had Spike's shoulders and hips pinned beneath his weight. His knees pressed into Spike's jutting hipbones in a crushing fashion, and his hands smashed his shoulder blades into the cement floor.

Spike howled at Penn, as he used Angelus' pet name for him. "I'm not your boy!" Spike squirmed and swore when he realized his strength was no match for Penn's.

"Not yet." Penn hissed at the struggling form beneath him. "Not yet."

Spike howled as he felt a sharp object plunge into his chest.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Angel swore as he pressed the damp cloth against Gunn's gaping neck. "He got you good."

"You don't have to tell me that." Gunn winced when Angel decided to apply more pressure to his injury. "Hey, do you think you could let someone else take over? You aren't exactly Mother Teresa, ya' know."

Angel nodded in agreement. "Spike probably needs my help, anyway."

"Spike wanted me to be there for him." Connor stood there, staring daggers into his father's back while gripping his kitten under its front legs and letting its body dangle against his side.

Angel turned and looked his son up and down. "Yes, he did. I was just humoring him... and you, by letting you both think that was going to happen." Angel narrowed his gaze at his son and gave him the 'father knows best' look, which is inherent in most father figures. "I need to know where *all* of my children are. I would appreciate it if you were to cooperate and stay with Gunn and Lorne. Wesley will check on the girls, right?" Angel cast Wesley a glance. Wesley just grabbed up his coat and headed for the door. "How about you?" Angel looked back toward his son.

Connor nodded slowly and put his kitten down in Gunn's lap. "Give me the cloth. I can play nurse just as well as you can."

"I hope you're gentler," Gunn murmured under his breath. He was tired from the loss of blood. Angel had informed him that, most likely, Penn hadn't drank from him... he had probably just ripped out his throat. Gunn was starting to understand those people from PETA who always fought against killing animals for sport. "I'm spent."

Connor nodded and swiped at the wound softly. "Just rest." Connor looked down at Skittles, who seemed resigned to curl up and sleep on Gunn's slowly moving chest. "We'll keep a watch out. Right, Lorne?"

"You got it, snicker-doodle." Lorne smiled at the boy and offered Angel a wink. "We'll be fine. You go save the brat."

Angel nodded and headed out, into the nighttime. Another fight, another childe... Well, technically the same childe, but he was very different from last time. He was attacking at random. He was leaving unfinished attacks. Some of his kills, he hadn't even drank from. There was no rhyme or reason to why he was killing the people he was killing.

Angel sniffed the night air and grinned. He could smell Spike within a moment. Cigarettes, bourbon, and... blood. Angel ran toward his car and jumped in. He started the ignition and followed the sweet smell of his childe's blood, as it wafted in the air. "I'm coming, Spike." He followed the smell until he reached what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse. "Oh, the irony. Please stake me now," he muttered, as he jumped out of his car.

"Bloody hell!" The screech pierced the night air, making Angel wince. His childe was in pain. His other childe was inflicting it. Could he do what was needed, when it came down to... "Screw you, you puritan tramp!"

Angel hurried around the back of the warehouse and found an unlocked door. He opened it stealthily and crept into the room. He made his way around the various boxes and crates and finally found what he was looking for. Spike sat in a chair, tied down and bleeding from almost every cavity. Angel fought the urge to groan. Spike was limp and beaten. If Angel hadn't known better, he would say he looked broken.

Penn walked into the opening, and ran his hand through Spike's blood caked hair. Spike shivered violently and spit out a few expletives. "Dirty mouth you have there, boy. Maybe we should clean it out." Penn reared his hand back and bitch-slapped the bounded vampire. (Mwuhaha! I had to do it.)

Spike spit out a mouthful of blood and hissed, "You are going to pay for this."

"Oh... and what are you going to do about it?" Penn smirked. "You going to wait for *my* Sire?" Penn pulled out his switchblade and grinned. "I wonder." He slashed a gap down the side of Spike's face, and drank in the painful wince it brought about. He slashed across the line horizontally, forming a cross. It sizzled and bubbled quietly. "Interesting. Does it hurt?"

"Piss off." Spike groaned. Spike looked up at his assailant and caught a glimpse of a dark figure out of the corner of his eye. 'Bout time, he thought, with a grin.

"What's so funny?" Penn asked angrily.

"You are so going to pay for this." Spike's grin grew as he slumped down in his seat.

"Am I?" Penn sneered down at Spike's slumping form.

"Yes." A voice in the darkness answered.

"Sire. It's about time you got here." Penn turned toward Angel. "You going to kill me now?"

"If that's what it takes." Angel stepped into the light and sighed.

"Well, I have nothing more to say to you. In the words of Spike, let's finish this." Penn lunged at his Sire and received a blow to the head. It was so forceful that it knocked him stumbling back into Spike. The younger vampire groaned at the contact and proceeded to pass out. Angel grabbed Penn up off the floor and discarded him over to the side.

Penn tried to pick himself up, but the blow to his skull had knocked him off balance. He watched Angel bend down and untie Spike from the chair. "I spent a good amount of time tying him up so that he couldn't get loose, and now you are undoing all of my work."

"That's my lot in life. Undoing my childer's work." Angel muttered cynically, as he pulled the last knot out. "It's my fault they were here in the first place, so I have to fix what they mess up. Even if it's each other." Angel ran a hand over Spike's bleeding and broken face, and shook his head. After a second more, he stood up and looked over at his other 'son'. "All right, let's do this." Angel slipped into game face and lunged at his childe.

Penn dodged the attack then slinked over to Spike's pliant form. He pulled the body up and grunted. Spike was heavier now that he was just a pile of 'dead weight'. Penn hugged Spike's form to him, and grinned at Angel. "A vampire shield. They're the newest thing this season. Everybody's getting one."

Angel growled and reached inside his inner coat pocket. He pulled out a stake and stalked toward his childer.

"You wouldn't risk your *favorite* childe, would you?" Penn smiled knowingly, at his Sire.

"That's not the question you should be asking, Penn." Angel's tongue curled around his childe's name lovingly. "The question is, who's the fastest and most accurate out of the two of us." Penn started to open his mouth to reply but, before he could, Angel plunged the stake through Spike's left shoulder and straight into Penn's heart.

"Damn, I hate irony." Penn grunted, right before he burst in a cloud of ash.

"Déjà vu..." Angel muttered as he pulled out the stake and picked Spike's lifeless form up off of the ground. Angel looked down into Spike's sleeping face, and sighed with relief. He was still alive... kind of.

"Did we get 'im..." Spike mumbled into Angel's unmoving chest.

"Yup." Angel nodded, even though it would have been lost on Spike, seeing as how his face was burrowing a hole into his torso.

"Good." Spike squirmed in Angel's arms and settled into a sprawling position. "My shoulder hurts."

"Yeah... I'll explain that to you later. You know, when you are feeling better." Angel smiled at the happy little smirk that made its way across Spike's face.

"You stab me?" Spike asked.

"Yup." Angel muttered.

Spike grinned wider and opened his eyes to gaze up at his Sire. "You can apologize later. You know, after I get up enough strength to thank you."

Angel nodded. "And, if anyone asks, you killed him?"

"Yup," Spike agreed, as Angel settled him in the car comfortably, and he drifted off to sleep.

~Part: 16~ Shine on You Crazy Diamond

"What happened to you?" Gunn was sitting up on the couch when Angel walked in the door.

Angel was serving as a crutch for a battered and bruised Spike, when they came in the door. He looked over at his childe, who winced with every pain-filled step, and felt his unbeating heart tighten in his chest. "He got hurt."

Spike glared at his Sire through dark swollen eyes. "Thanks, Mr. States-the-Obvious. I think I can handle the talking thing from here on in."

"Well, at least he didn't mess up the sarcasm lobe in your brain." Angel smiled at the glare he received for that comment. "I think you'll be okay. I'll go get you some blood." Angel helped Spike take a seat next to Gunn, who had turned a nice shade of green when he started inspecting the damage done to the vampire.

"My neck won't look like that, will it?" Gunn asked Spike, who had by now closed his eyes and laid his head back.

"I've been turned into a 'shish kaspike' and you're worried about a little scarring on your neck?" Spike opened one eye and looked over at the young man. "Pull the rag away and let me have a look-see." Gunn did as he was told and Spike nodded. "He took a chunk out, but don't worry. You'll look rugged and manly when it's all healed up."

"Yeah, I bet it'll be great with the ladies." Gunn groaned and rubbed at the tender skin around his bite. "I can hear the women now. 'Ooo... what happened to your neck? A dog attack you?' Yeah, that will be the last straw." Gunn shook his head. "I'll kill myself first."

"You could always turn it around to your advantage." Spike offered, agreeably. "You don't have to say you're a vampire hunter. Why not say you saved a small child from a large animal. Don't have to be a dog. A wolf, perhaps?"

"Still a dog." Gunn grumbled, as he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his head over on his shoulder to keep the towel in place.

"Al Pacino is very much the type-cast victim. Can he ever be a good guy? The Godfather, Scent of a Woman, Devil's Advocate... He was the devil, for heaven's sake!" Lorne rambled, as he walked down the stairs into the lobby. "Oh, Spike!" Lorne grinned widely when he noticed the bleach blonde lying on the couch. "You're... bleeding all over the place." Lorne scrunched up his nose in distaste. He looked around the room, in search of Angel. "Where is tall, dark, and magnificent?"

"Vin Diesel?" Spike smirked when Lorne rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Not hardly." Lorne made his way over to Spike's side and groaned. "Your clothes are ruined."

"Maybe we'll have to go shopping." Spike chuckled and broke into a fit of coughing.

"What's going on?" Connor asked from the balcony. "Spike!" Connor hurried down the stairs. He tried not to go too fast. It wouldn't do if Spike thought he was really worried, but... he had been really worried. Connor stopped himself before he could do anything stupid.

"What, no hug?" Spike grinned at the boy, who seemed to look rather frazzled. "Where's kitten?"

"Locked in the bathroom." Connor's eyes clouded over. "He was bad."

"Oh, really. I'm sure whatever it was, couldn't have been *that* bad," Spike stated with confidence.

"He tried to drink Gunn's blood." Connor sniffed. "It's your fault."

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?" Spike hit the back of his head against the couch and let it bounce a couple of times. "I took your kitty and, while you weren't looking, I turned him into an evil vampire cat. Feel better?" Spike sighed and gripped at his shoulder. It felt like a fire was being ignited right inside the wound.

"No. That's not what I meant." Connor watched Spike's face flicker between vampire and human stances for a moment, and decided he felt sorry for him. "I just meant that if you hadn't run off, I could have come with you, and kitten would have been put up. He wouldn't have even smelled the blood... unless you really did turn him into a vampire cat."

Spike got a hold of himself and grunted. Connor had sounded so serious that he was forced to open his eyes and look at the boy before he could tell whether it was a joke or not. He still wasn't positive. "You're kidding."

Connor shook his head. "Yes."

"Brat." Spike picked up the nearest pillow and chucked it at Connor, who dodged it quite effectively.

Angel watched from the doorway, amused. "He's not the one who went out and almost got killed."

"This time," Lorne added.

"Thank you, Lorne." Angel glared at the demon. Connor just sniffed.

"Yes, thank you, Lorne." Spike gave Lorne a dazzling smile that Lorne decided made up for the daggers Angel was shooting at him from his eyes.

"Well, he didn't mess up your smile." Lorne retreated toward the kitchen, where he had stashed a bottle of bourbon.

"Nope." Spike agreed. "But I bit my tongue quite a few times. I'll be spittin' out blood for days."

Angel walked over to Spike and knelt in front of him. "You can't get rid of something that you don't have, Spike." Angel held up a mug of warm blood and pushed it into his childe's hands. "Drink."

"So..." Gunn started. He wasn't sure what to say next, though, that didn't sound too gruesome.

"How did he die?" Connor finished for him. Connor took a seat on the coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Oh well, it was a kind of 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' sort of deal." Spike offered, as an explanation. Apparently, it wasn't enough. The two young men were giving each other skeptical looks that could only lead to one thing. More questions. Spike sighed. "Here's the scoop. I find him, right? In this abandoned old warehouse. How very imaginative of him, by the- bloody- way. Anyway, he is as fast as light and as quiet as a shadow. So, he's playing these creepy mind tricks on me and it's like I'm up against some Jedi guy, except he's dead and insane. Anyway, we get into a scuffle and I whoop him up real good, you see? But he's fast and agile, and he gets the better of me. I'm pinned. Ha!" Spike broke off and went into a small fit of giggles, which resulted in him clutching his side. "Pinned!"

Connor and Gunn sat gaping at the laughing vampire. They both cast their glances over at Angel, who was still crouching on the floor. He just shrugged. "He's had a long night."

"Bloody right, I have!" Spike gasped for an unnecessary breath, and sighed. "Where was I?"

"You were pinned..." Connor stated, cautiously.

Spike chuckled to himself and nodded. "That I was. By the by, I'm caught like a bug who's about to have its wings ripped off. The blighter ties me to a chair and roughs me up a little, yeah?" Spike stopped and looked over at Connor, who was currently seated so far on the edge of the coffee table that he looked like he could fall off at any moment. "You sure I should be telling you such a creepy story before bedtime? Might mess with your dreams a little."

Connor shook his head and waved the vampire on. "Please continue."

"Oh, such nice a request. How could I say no? Anyway, I'm tied up, beat up, roughed up, and suddenly feeling a little nauseous. Then, I see 'im..." Spike gave a dramatic pause.

"Who?" Connor asked, eyes wide.

Spike was a little frustrated that Connor messed up his pause and more than a little upset that he wasn't following the story very well. "Who? Your dad, duh!" Spike scoffed at the young man, and continued with his story. "Next thing I see is Angel stepping out of the shadows like the dark avenger. Figured on rescuing dear old me."

"Did he? I mean did he untie you... or what?" Connor was grinning, ear to ear, as Spike went on with his story. Any way this story went down, one of the two guys he looked up to the most was a hero of sorts.

"Well..." Spike started.

"Not exactly," Angel interrupted. "When I walked in, Penn heard my coat swish. He turned around and attacked me before I could get over to Spike. Spike took the opportunity to free himself from the ropes and jump in and yank Penn off me. Between the two of us, Penn was staked and killed. That's enough information. Goodnight." Angel stood up from his crouching position and offered Spike a hand.

Spike took the proffered hand, and winced as he was pulled to his feet. "Ouch."

"Sorry," Angel muttered under his breath.

Spike nodded. He understood. "Thank you," he murmured, just as quietly.

"Need help getting to your room?" Angel knew what the answer would end up being.

"No, Angel. I'm a big boy and..." Spike went to take a step, and would have fallen flat on his face if Angel hadn't have caught him. "...I could probably use a small hand."

Angel loosened his grip and helped Spike get his balance back. "Right."

Spike cleared his throat and looked back at the others. Gunn was still seated on the couch, looking over at Connor, who looked like he was brooding up a storm. "Well, goodnight all." Connor nodded and looked away, while Gunn just gave smiled and said "night."

Lorne walked into the room and smiled at the two vampires who were heading up the stairs. "Sweet dreams."

Angel threw a glance back at Lorne and grinned. "Yeah, I can only hope."

Lorne took a sip of his drink and smiled warmly. "I have a feeling we've all earned a break."

Spike chuckled cynically as they reached the bottom stair. "Yeah, but the 'Powers That Suck' hate us, so we probably should be ready, just in case." Spike took a couple of steps up the stairs, and stopped to regain his composure.

Angel shook his head and sighed. "You need me to-"

"Shut up. I need you to shut up. You offer to carry me and I'll castrate you." Spike pushed forward, and gave a triumphant whoop when he reached the top of the stairs.

"All that for making it up the stairs?"

"All that for making it up the stairs without falling on me arse." Spike slumped against the banister. "How far is it to my room?"

"Which one? The one you sleep in?" Spike gave a nod, and Angel thought a moment. "One and a half hallways, not including the next flight of stairs."

"Well, bugger me!" Spike exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm gonna have to put up camp halfway."

"You're taking the room next to mine. I'm going to have to check in on you, if I expect to get any peace." Angel gave Spike a shove in the direction of his room and the vampire stumbled.

"Okay, Sire. I'm going." Spike opened the door to Angel's room, walked in, and made his way over to the chair next to the bed. He settled down into the cushions and sighed.

Angel followed him in, confusion etched on his face. "This is my room, Spike."

"Yup. You still have those Flying Circus videos, or did you give 'em back to Wes?" Spike asked with a small smile.

"When did I have the chance to give them back?" Angel asked. "Between the dead woman and the almost doubly dead you..."

"You have got to get out of California. You sound like a valley girl." Spike pointed at the television. "Put on a movie. I can't sleep now."

"So, therefore, neither can I?" Angel was amused. Of course, Spike wouldn't want him to sleep yet. Not that he had been planning on it anyway. How could he sleep after the night they had just had?

"You got it." Spike flicked his wrist. "Put it on, slowpoke."

Angel nodded and looked inside the VCR. There was still a tape in it. He pressed play and walked back to his bed, where he lay back and threw a glance over at Spike. "You want to change your clothes or something?"

Spike shook his head. "Nope. You wanna change my clothes?" Spike looked about as obstinate as he sounded. "Cause I'm not moving."

"No." Angel shook his head and looked toward the TV. "You want to smell like blood and death, go for it. I can stand it if you can."

Spike grinned. "I hope so, 'cause you smell just as rank."

"Stop smelling me." Angel frowned at the flickering TV, which he really wasn't watching.

"You started it." Spike shrugged.

"And I'm finishing it." Angel paused. "Weirdo."

"Creep." Spike threw back at his Sire.

"Punk."

"Thank you." Spike wasn't sure exactly what he was thanking Angel for. Saving his life, not telling the others about it, or just being here with him while he couldn't sleep.

Angel understood. "You're welcome." Angel reached over and grabbed the remote control. He turned the sound up, just above silence, and chuckled. Michael Palin was behind the desk in a pet store, singing The Lumberjack Song. Angel couldn't help but wonder how things would have turned out if he, as a human, had done something... anything constructive. He wouldn't have been turned, he wouldn't have been a master vampire, he wouldn't have killed all of those people... he wouldn't have met Buffy or Cordelia, he wouldn't have had a son or a family.

Angel looked over at Spike and shook his head. Spike was slumped down in his seat, eyes closed, breathing softly. He wouldn't be alive to experience the headaches and heartaches but, in retrospect, wasn't that why life was worth living?

"You're brooding so loud that you woke me up. Could you keep it down?" Spike was squinting at Angel through barely opened eyelids. "Unlike you, some of us heroes need our beauty sleep."

Angel chuckled and turned up the TV. "Sure, Spike." Angel settled back into his pillow and sighed. Well, for the moment, things were okay. If he could just keep things that way, he would have his work cut out for him.

"Angel, what's pale but dark, obnoxious but silent, and is wrapped up in turmoil, disorder, and confusion?" Spike asked. He was the perfect picture of tranquility, with his hands folded across his chest and his head laying back against the chair.

"Riddles?" Angel thought for a moment and drew a blank. "I don't know, Spike. What?"

"You, you silly ponce. Now, if you don't stop thinking, I'm going to be forced to cause some turmoil, disorder, and confusion myself, just to get you to stop thinking. That *will* be all your fault.. Got it?" Obviously, Spike hadn't lost any bit of his ability to simplify the more complex situations and emotions.

"Got it." Angel laughed. Spike was only justifying his feelings that everything would end up all right. Didn't it always?

The End

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