Wick Is As Wicked Does

Author: FemailoftheSpecies

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~Part: 21~

Spike released Daniel’s blood and sweat soaked hair.  The human’s head fell to his chest; he was nearing the breaking point.   The wound to his stomach was oozing blood too quickly, so the blond knelt before his captive, licking the gash and filling it with saliva until the flow stopped.

Satisfied that after allowing a brief rest he and the agent could play a few more hours, he turned to Angel who was now watching him, with mixed emotions, the book set aside.  The display was horrific to his soul, but the demon saw the art his boy created, the message behind the torment and pain.  He would send this battered and broken remnant of the man back, most certainly not alive, as a warning to anyone daring to consider attacking him or his family.

The blond now stood in front of Angel, waiting.  The dark vampire nodded as his childe lowered himself gracefully to kneel between his legs.  Angel stared into his boy’s eyes.  They were feral and wanting and dark, the blue like midnight.

“Come here,” the older demon commanded, pulling Spike by the back of his neck until their lips collided in an animalistic and primitive embrace.  This was basic to them, back to what they were underneath it all.  The soul had no place in this, and for the moment, Angel set it aside as easily as he did the book and enjoyed the passions instilled by this creature as he explored what was always his.

A soft knock on the door prevented anything further, and the blond arose, still eyeing his sire, the hunger making him tremble.

“Later,” Angel spoke quietly.  Spike nodded and went to the door, putting forth a deliberate effort to discontinue his ragged breathing.

He opened the door enough for the intruder, Wesley, to see the destroyed mortal, not caring about the blood that stained his carpet and walls.  To Spike’s surprised amusement, the human only spared a glance for the gruesome scene behind the vampire.  His attention was obviously better spent ogling the vampire’s bare, blood-speckled chest.

“What is it, Wesley?”  He asked impatiently.

“Hmm…Oh I yes, please tell Angel that I’ve check the voicemail box at the office.  Ms. Summers has been trying to reach him or Cordelia.  She seemed in a panic.  I…just thought he should know.”  He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, but did not leave.

“Anything else?”  Spike rolled his eyes.  He would definitely have to teach this one to spit it out.

“Well, we were wondering…I’m not a child and feel strange asking…permission… There’s a coffee shop on the next corner…”

Spike turned his head to the side, frowning and intensely frustrated by Wesley’s nervous rambling, and yelled, “ANGEL!”

Startled, Wesley jumped and Angel was at the door within seconds.  Spike retreated into the bedroom to attend to the agent, this one was Steve, who was waking up.  He also had to refrain from taking his strangely beautiful and decidedly annoying pet and fucking him until he was too knackered to be so jittery.   <Peaches would not be pleased.>   The vibe he was getting from the ex-watcher called to his demon, which already had too much control.    Therefore, he would resist this urge and bury himself in his work, so to speak.

At the door, Angel’s eyes were inquisitive as were Wesley’s.  Spike explained nothing to either person so neither knew why the other was waiting.

“Angel.”

“Wes.”

“Okay….I was telling Spike about the coffee shop on Taylor.  Cordelia would like to eat and get out for a bit.  It’s been hard on her, hearing…well you know.”

“Uh huh,” Angel waited.

“So…Eh, is it okay, safe, to leave for a while.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.  Cordy stays.  She’s too stubborn and will just go off on her own and I won’t be able to protect her.”

“Angel, I don’t have food here.  Nothing left but tea after Spi…There’s nothing to eat,” he stated resolutely, his chin firm.

The brunette vampire did not miss the slip, but ignored it for the moment.  “You go. Take Willow.  I’ll sit with Cordy.”

He started to protest, knowing the seer would consider him a traitor for leaving without her, but he also recognized a lost cause when he saw it.  “Shall I bring you anything?”

“No,” Angel replied, digging in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, get Spike some cigarettes and an apple pie.  And I’ll take some coffee.”  He handed him enough money for everyone. “Send Willow back.”

Moping, Wesley walked away to face his fate with Cordelia.   As Willow approached, Angel heard an angry yell from the living room and smirked.

“Angel?”

“Willow, go with Wesley to get dinner…NOT your kind of dinner,” he added quickly when she did a small, happy hop.  “Cordelia’s hungry.  Get something if you like.  Make sure HE stays safe and come right back.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away to get Spike’s pet, cringing when she felt her grandsire’s crushing grip on her shoulder.  “Spike may tolerate a lot of disobedience from you, Little One, but I will not.”  He was behind her, close, cool lips grazing her ear.  “Do as I say and we’ll get along fine, Willow.”

Aside from a slight shudder, she was inanimate, the raw power of the older demon paralyzing her.  When he released her from his grasp, she darted away quietly to find the ex-watcher.

~~~*~~~

They walked in silence, the redhead absorbed in uneasy reflection of Angel’s unsoully behavior.

“Why so quiet, Willow?”  Curiosity got the best of the rogue demon hunter.

After nearly a moment of waiting he concluded that she was not going to answer him and she almost did ignore him, then changed her mind.  “Angel…He’s not the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to say.  He seems so…Ahhh,I don’t know.  He just basically told me to do what he says or else.  I understand the or else part perfectly.  But he was way more demony.”

“It bothers you?”

“No!  I liked it!”

Wes frowned.  “So what’s wrong?  He IS the patriarch of your little clan.  He’s bound to be at bit…bossy.”

“He’s angry at me.  For having Spike, I think.”  She frowned.

“Ah-ha…”  It was all he said.  He knew very well how the older vampire felt about that menacing blond.  It wasn’t a jealously.  It was more a like a blind obsession and overwhelming desire to possess him.

They were at the coffee shop and Wesley held the door open for the pretty fledgling as the bell sounded.  They sat next to each other at the counter and waited in companionable silence for the server to come.

~~~*~~~

“This one…I’m turning.  Him and what’s his name over there.”  He motioned lazily as he reclined on the bed, a cigarette dangling from his pouty lips.

“Spike, this is more than I…”

“I will do what I please with them, Angel.  They are going to go back in that place, be our bloody eyes and ears.  Get me a way in.”

It was a good plan.  Angel hated to admit it and probably would not.  He just found it hard to justify damning these men as a means to their end.

Spike, not concerned about his sire’s sporadic bouts of guilt, pulled Steve up from the floor and sank his fangs into him without ceremony, draining the man to near death before feeding him a good amount of his own blood.  He would make these two into strong minions that he could rely on to behave intelligently and loyally when away from his influence.

Angel observed this all with equal abhorrence and longing that left him dizzy.  As much as the soul hated it, the demon rejoiced in making their number larger, the small powerful family becoming a clan, one that would rule this debauched city of fallen angels.  Feeling Spike’s eyes penetrating his being, he met his gaze.

“Gods Angelus…this is… like it should be.  I’ve missed it.  Missed you.”  He laid the other agent down when, dying, the man’s lips fell from his bleeding wrist.

“I can’t say that I’m not enjoying myself, watching you…You’re still so beautiful, Will.  Not touching you, not taking you…it’s hard.”

He tilted his head slightly and grinned at the older vampire, rising from the bed and padding over to him. “Hard is good.”

~Part: 22~

Wes and Willow were headed back to the apartment.  They had the to-go boxes for Cordy and Spike, along with a coffee for Angel.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be?  Before he’s done…”

“Spike’s playing, Wesley.”

He frowned, the idea of torturing a human for hours, not inspiring happy feelings.

Willow sighed, stopped walking and turned him to her.  “What do you think I am now, Wesley?

“You…You’re a vampire, Willow.  Of course I under…” She placed a finger over his lips, ceasing the speech the she knew was coming.

“I’m still me. It’s not just a demon in my body with my memories to use.  I remember and feel everything.  I kinda don’t have the warm and fuzzies for Buffy anymore a-and definitely like expressing my…affection for someone in very interesting ways.  But I’m still Willow.  I still love computers and learning and oh!  Spike even said that I could go to back to college.  Just take my classes at night.  That’ll be cool.”  She smiled to herself and Wesley imagined for a moment that this was the old Willow.  “And fun to me now is different. The demon inside me does kinda dictate that.   So Spike is playing.   Revenge is a game for us, like Monopoly or-or Scrabble.” Her eyes were wide and excited, her smile honest and open.  Yet he knew she was a killer.

They resumed walking, side by side.  “It’s very disturbing to those of us who are still human.”

She gave him a sideways look, a feral grin planted on her face.  “We know.”  When he pouted a bit she laughed at him, knowing it would bother him not to be taken seriously.

Suddenly she froze, eyes flashing golden and changing back to green as she sniffed the air.  The building was across the street,  but Cordelia’s scent was coming from the south, the next block maybe.   She recently passed this spot.  “Fuck.”

“What it is?”  Wesley eyes darted around, visually scanning the area for dangers.

“Cordy left.  Here.” She shoved the coffee in his free hand and started walking backwards away from him.   “Go get my sire.  I’m going after her.”  And then she was gone.

~~~*~~~

Spike was on his knees, his sire’s cock firmly imbedded in his cool, welcoming mouth.  Angel groaned and tightened his hold on the blond’s surprisingly soft hair, guiding him up and down the hard shaft.

“God, Spike...”  He thrust his hips up, fucking his boy’s mouth.  He now remembered why this boy got away with so much more than his other childer.

If the door slamming and stomping did nothing to rouse the demons from their activity, the crashing open of the bedroom door and high-pitched  scream certainly did.  Both turned to look, Angel startled, Spike amused yet annoyed.

“Ooooh….I… Uh… Sorry…no please…um I’ll ah…” He stammered, backing out. The lascivious look on the blond’s face would haunt him for days.

Angel cursed the man’s timing and stood, zipping his pants, his eyes never leaving the ex-watcher.  “What is it?”

“What?!”  The human could hardly think.

By now Spike was storming over to him, definitely irritated.  “You burst through the soddin’ door like your bits were on fire,” he growled, snatching the human by his throat.

“Wesley, what happened?  Spike, he can’t talk.  Let him go.”

The blond squeezed once more, a warning, before shoving him to the floor.

Wesley coughed and began to stand.  “Stay down there,” the younger vampire ordered.  The human glared at him as he rose to his full height, refusing to be bossed around by the vampire.  He was also certain that Angel would not let Spike hurt him.

“Cordy…” He coughed, rubbing his neck. “She’s gone.  Willow went after.”

Angel rolled his eyes, running a hand through his thick, brown hair.

“Can’t you keep your pets under control, Peaches?”  He spat disdainfully.

“Spike!  She is not…whatever…Which way?”  He asked the demon hunter, giving up on reasoning with his boy.

“Ahhh  Brannen… down Brannen,” he managed after getting his bearings straight.

The older vampire nodded, facing his childe.  “Stay here with your…toys..”  He looked Wesley over, causing the human to shiver.  “I’ll find them both.”

Spike sulked and lit a smoke.  He was sure his girl would be alright.  He felt no vampire or demon presence in the neighborhood or anywhere close when they arrived.  She could handle anything human.  And Angelus would find them both quickly.

Angel left the bedroom, Wesley following closely.  At the front door he stopped.  “Wes, stay.  I’ll be faster alone.”  He grabbed his coat.  “And Wes?”

“Yes.”

The vampire pulled him so that their foreheads touched.  “You should have stayed down on the floor.”   He winked at the human and released him, pulling the door shut with a bang.

~~~*~~~

She caught up to her in within a few minutes, about five blocks away. <How did they not hear her leaving?>

Using vampiric speed, she rounded on the girl, appearing in her face, seemingly from thin air.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  She grabbed the seer by her arm, too tightly, happy to bruise her just a little.

“What?  STOP!  Get your dead little paws off of me, Willow Rosenberg!”  She yelled, jerking away from the redhead.

“Cordy, I will hurt you… and like it… so STOP IT NOW!”  She screamed back as her demon face came forth.

“Aww...”  She inhaled the delectable scent of fear.  “Now you’re scared.”  Cordy shrunk back as much as she could with her arm still in Willow’s clutches.   “Now let’s see.  I had to hunt you down.  The least you can do is offer me a snack for my troubles.”  Licking a canine, she pressed against the girl.  “Not like you need all that blood, and I’m soooo hungry now.”

She nuzzled into her neck and laughed when Cordy tried to knee her in the groin.  “Not a boy, but I can get a strap-on if you like.”  Fangs pricked flesh as small pools of blood welled up and the redhead tasted her, sucking gently and taking only a little.

She stepped away and released her arm, admiring the tiny river of blood still flowing into the front of Cordelia’s blouse and the tears that flowed from her eyes.

“Shall I kiss your tears?  I’m sure they are as yummy as your blood.”  The seer shook her head angrily and wiped her eyes with the heels of her palms, rubbing the wetness on her jeans.

“Don’t run away again,” she warned and then changed to human quickly.  “I’m sorry that I scared you so much…well not really, but I only wanted a little,” she pouted.

The brunette just glared at her, arms crossed to ward off the sudden chill.

The vampire took the human’s hand gently, patting the top.   “Grandsire’s close.  Let’s head back.  We’ll say you just went out for some air, not really running, alright?”

Cordelia studied her old friend suspiciously with narrowed eyes, but only saw affection and an offer to help her out of this mess.  She sniffed again and nodded, wondering what this would ultimately cost her.

~Part: 23~

“Oh Wesley!”  A sing-song voice called to him and the ex-watcher shivered, suppressing the urge to fling the door open and run after Angel.  Instead he turned slowly and pushed his glasses up higher on his nose.

“What can I do for you, Spike?”  He answered in the same falsely cheery tone.

The vampire chuckled, not looking at his pet, but at the last living human.  There was not much left and he would not insult his childe with something that had so little play left.  “Come ‘ere, watcher.”

Knowing what was in there, Wesley took a few steps toward the demon, but stopped well short of the room.

“I don’t think it would be beneficial for me to uh… I’m not entirely sure I can…”

Spikes eyes rolled, as he often did, and with a huge sigh, along with impossible speed, he snatched the mortal by the arm and dragged him into the room, slamming the door behind them.  “Don’t be such an overwhelming ponce.  It’s not your blood and…Hey, are those the large or small intestines, watcher-boy?”

Wesley looked against his better judgment, heaving immediately.  The vampire pulled him upright and snarled.  “Don’t you get sick.  No gonna spend the rest of the night smelling your cookies.”  His blue eyes consumed the man’s, forcing his will on him until the threat was over and the panic was behind him.

“What did you do?”  He managed, his normally pleasing voice rough and gravelly.

“Surprised you asked, mate.  First I took your pliers…”

“No!”  The raised, scared eyebrow hushed him some.  “No, I mean, these two?”  He pointed to the sleeping dead on the floor by his bed.

“Oh them… circus midgets.”  He replied innocently.  “Minions, you prat!”

“Angel allowed…”  He started, disbelief tainting his tone.

“Let’s be clear on a few things, shall we, pet?”  Spike purred in the warm ear, cool breath tickling the fine hairs.

Wesley nodded sagely, bolts of heat shooting to places the brunette would rather ignore.

“See, Angel’s real brassed off at these GI Joe types.  Short of a full blown slaughter of innocents, the soul won’t be stopping me from getting these wankers off my back.  I’m his.  They tried to hurt me.  He wants them destroyed.  It’s really very simple.”

The rogue demon hunter slipped into deep thought, wondering what all this was doing to Angel’s mission.  Could he side with his most murderous childe and still remain on a path to redemption?  It hardly seemed possible and as the older vampire’s friend he considered intervening. But just how to accomplish that evaded him.  He glanced at the blond, realizing the demon had been speaking to him and it did not hold well to make the impatient one wait.

“…get blueprints of the place.”
 

“What?  I’m sorry…”

Spike looked heavenward.  “It’s because I stole those babies from the church for Dru, innit?  Bloody vengeful God.”  He grumbled before training golden eyes on his pet.  “Please do pay attention this time, Wesley.”
 

Only after the human nodded and assured him that he was listening did Spike continue.  “These two will go back and get inside.  They will get me the blueprints and recruit my old minions.  Once we have a large enough force and the information, we attack.”
 

“Spike… It sounds good, in theory…”  He removed his glasses and also checked with the heavens.  “I think before you make any concrete plans, you send these two in, for recon only.”

~~~*~~~

Buffy hung up.  She had been trying to reach Angel all day and night.  The phone was busy and the operator explained it was off the hook.

Her watcher observed her sadly.  Since the redhead disappeared, none of his charges had been particularly cheery, but Buffy was downright depressed.

“No luck?”

A shake of her head, shoulders slumped, “What am I going to do?  These guys are dangerous.  Riley is one of them, and I have to act like I’m down with the torturing of demon’s so I can get in the inside?”

“That was the plan, Buffy, but if you have any reservations…”

“No!  No…I’m okay.  I can do this.  I know they know where Willow is.”

He stood and set his book down.   “Buffy…You know there is the possibility that she’s… she’s dead or worse.”

“I know…I don’t care.  We can worry about the or worse if it happens.”  She wiped away an errant tear.  “I’m going out to patrol.”

~~~*~~~

“Angel…I-I mean Grandsire.”  She swung the hand that held Cordelia’s, like little girls who are best friends.  Angel frowned at the scent of the seer’s blood.  “Look who I found, on her way back from taking a walk to get some air and in no way was she running away.”

Angel just eyed them both, unreadable.

“Hi, Angel.”  Cordy flashed her mega-watt smile.

“Come on… Your food is waiting.”

Willow began to bounce.

“Not you, Willow.”  He sighed and she pouted.

“You know I’ll probably just turn to dust, I’m so hungry, and then won’t Spike be upset.”  She let go of Cordelia’s hand in favor of crossing her arms over her chest belligerently.

Angel laughed and it was scary for all who witnessed.  “Little One, if you were starving, you should have eaten Cordelia here.”  He smirked knowingly.

Spike listened to the brunette as he prattled on about his little plan.  The amazing part was that the human actually had a mind for strategizing.   He thought in multiple levels never forgetting the bigger picture while attending to the smallest details.

This one he would have to keep.

“So, these two make minions out of the Initiative personnel thus increasing your army while reducing theirs.”

“But then they aren’t tied to my blood.  And these…” he pointed to the un-arisen, “are not childer, so I have no right’s of Sire.  The minions they make will feel no loyalty to me, especially if I am not there.  Won’t work.”

Wesley nodded and seemed to take in this information, assimilate it with what he already knew and what he had learned from the vampire recently.

“I’m going back.”  Spike’s sudden word startled him.

“They are looking for you.  Angel won’t allow it.”  He went back to studying his hands.

The vampire laughed.  “You are a treat.”  He stalked the human, who had unfortunately become too comfortable in the demons presence and did not look up.

Cool hands gripped the human’s arms.  “Angel doesn’t command me, Wesley.  I thought I explained that.   Now I know you’re a quick study, so I can only conclude that you don’t believe me. “

He maneuvered the brunette until he faced the door with Spike behind him.  Protests, futile, but amusing, fell on deaf ears as the trousers were yanked down.  Blood, cool, trickling, tickling, down his crack.  The blond coated his own member, holding his pet’s neck firmly from behind as he struggled.  Whispers.

“Why are you fighting?  I can smell it you know.  All bloody day, you and your pheromones.  Wanting.  Needing. “

Wesley’s head shook vehemently.  Denial was sometimes the last wall separating one from madness.

“You lie, but I have the truth, right here.”  He reached around and began pumping the hard cock he found there while he pushed his own inside his pet.

A moan, loud and resigned, tore from his lips, as he pushed back onto the invading organ.  He wondered at the pain, which was not so very bad at all and somehow made the pleasure, when it hit and it did often, that much more intense.

The blond pounded into the hot tight channel, letting his demon take over.  His fangs itched as they descended and he decided to scratch a bit, taking shallow bites of the human’s shoulder and back.  He licked at the blood and thrust deeper.  Wesley screamed as Spike tossed his head back, laughing.

“I am the truth, Wesley.  Your truth.  Accept it and be with me.”  He purred, pulling him flush against his hard chest.

The human thrashed under the assault to his prostrate, unable to think of anything but the vampire that surrounded him.  He felt the tightening nearly howling when a powerful hand clamped the base of his dick, halting his impending orgasm.  His body went ridged with the shock and sweet pain.

“Spiiiiiike, pleeeeease!”  He pushed meekly at the pale hand, pumping wildly, but attaining no friction.

“Will you be mine, luv?”  His voice was deceptively calm, allowing the man to think he had a choice, as he stroked Wesley’s walls again, stimulating that sweet spot again and again, but never lessening this hold on the engorged shaft.

“AHHHHH!  I …please… killing me…”  He panted, sweat dripping, heart pounding.

“In time, pet.  Are you mine?”  He growled.

“Yes…yes…please…”

The vampire, pumped Wesley’s shaft and slid his fangs into the soft flesh of the human’s throat, shooting his cool seed into him as hot fluid fell over his hand.

~Part: 24~

When she opened the door, the smell hit her hard.  Wesley and her sire.  She inhaled, letting it flow through her, making her tingle.   Cordelia followed her inside, unaware of what was going on behind the closed door of the watcher’s bedroom.  Angel, however, was not ignorant to the scents lingering around them and immediately stalked down the hallway.    Willow tried to distract him.

“Grandsire!”

He turned, growling.

“I…we… where is the food?”  She asked, biting her lower lip.

Disregarding her thinly veiled ploy he barged into the room, the force sending the door banging into the wall and nearly slamming him in his face as it rebounded.  Stopping short, he was equally aroused and enraged by the sight before him; his childe wrapped around his employee, fucking him lazily, draining him slowly.  He took a step toward them, intrigued by the smooth plane of his boy’s pale back and the lean, taunt form of the human.  They were entwined and the vampire had to look closely to differentiate the parts.

“Spike, let him go.”  He spoke calmly, but the tone of the sire was evident.  He just hoped it was not too late.   If he tried to snatch Wesley away forcefully, it would damage the man’s throat beyond repair.

The blond vampire looked up, retracting his fangs slightly, finally acknowledging the older demon’s presence.  His insolence, as usual, was present as well.

“Go away, Angelus.  This one’s mine.  Said so himself.”  He went back to laving at the delectable liquid and slowly thrusting, the subject closed.  A semi-conscious Wesley moaned his agreement, pre-cum flowing freely.

“WILLIAM!  LET HIM GO NOW!”

The blond reacted by growling, but pulled away from the abused flesh.  The demon was thick in his resonant voice as he spoke tightly.  “The human wants this, Angel.  He‘ll belong to all of us.  You, Willow, I and Wesley, a family again.”

Angel had to think quickly.  If he went against the blond now, he would lose him forever, and Wesley might still die.  He would have to compromise for now until a better plan came along.

“You need him human for now.  We have enough strength, he and Cordy are our only humans.  We need him alive.  You can turn him later.  Now stop draining him before it’s too late!”

Spike narrowed his eyes, studying his sire, looking for the ticks signaling a lie.  He found none, which he took to mean that Angel was now much better at hiding his tells or Angelus was much closer to the surface.

“Fine.”  He growled as he pulled out of the tight anus.  Wesley was unconscious, but the heartbeat was still strong.  He rose and stalked gracefully to the bathroom, unconcerned about Angel’s anger.  “I’m taking a shower, Sire.  Send Willow in.”

~~~*~~~

The steam from the shower practically hid the blond demon in a swirling fog, but Willow could see him just fine.  Gorgeous and deadly, her lovely sire.  She stripped out of her clothes quickly as he watched, soaping his shaft slowly, bewitched by the pale pixie joining him in the small stall.

Equally enthralled by his beauty, she gently freed him of the shower gel and began washing him, her small hands slipping over him, every nerve on fire from her touch.  He held still for her, allowing her this access to him that he remembered loving as a fledge.  Angelus was sometimes selfish with his own body, even as he thoroughly explored his childer’s.   It was a treat when he got free reign to touch, caress and please at his leisure.  With his own childe he tried to give her every concession that he had enjoyed, albeit sporadically.

Her now-warmed hands crept around to his backside, massaging the sensitive flesh of his crack with nimble and bold fingers.  A low growl ceased her designs of penetration.  She glanced up at him, lips curling in that devious smile that he loved passionately.

“A little too modern for you then?”

“Some things just won’t happen, luv.  ‘Sides, Angelus would have fit.”  He groaned as she sunk to her knees, legs tucked under in the small space, and took in his hardness, swallowing him whole.   “Fuck, Willow,” he panted, gripping her saturated curls with one strong hand and the tiled wall with the other.

Nothing more was said.  She sucked his cock like a good childe should, making him shudder, shake and quiver.  His cool seed down her throat was a welcome relief to the burning that had begun from the wild fucking of her mouth.

Rising to her feet, she waited for him to make the next move.  It was only a few seconds before she found herself with her back against the wall, legs around his slender waist.

“Ready, pet?”

As she nodded he thrust inside until fully buried in her cool channel.  She lay her head back against the wall and let him have at her, screaming as he pounded his frustrations at being hunted into her.  The sounds she made were musical to him, spurring him on to slam more violently, an urgent keening erupting from her as her walls contracted around his cock, fluttering lightly and clamping greedily while she came for him.  He thrust several more times before flood her and biting down on her shoulder, drawing her blood into him.

“Sire…Spike…God…”  She gasped, writhing, her head rolling back and forth against the tile as she tried to come down from her orgasm while her body undulated with the seemingly endless procession of pleasure.   The blond lowered Willows legs to the ground and held up her limp form while he shut off the cooling water.  He chuckled, knowing that Angelus would be pissed to have no hot water.

He picked up his girl, carrying her to the bedroom.  The new minions, Steve and Eric were still there, sleeping on the floor.  Daniel needed to be dealt with and sent back to the Initiative as an example of what would become of any other that came for him, but for now he was content to give his childe some much needed attention.

“Wakey, wakey Willow.”

~~~*~~~

“Angel, what are you going to do about him?”

The vampire sat with his fingers tented, watching the sleeping man who lay sprawled on the couch.

“Angel!”

“What, Cordy?  What do you want me to do?”

“You’re the sire, so that makes you like his father, so ground him or something!  He was gonna kill Wesley!”

“Well, he planned to turn him, so it’s not that bad, right?”  He winced as she screeched at him.

“He is evil!  Hello??”

“He only did it because his demon was all worked up and I left him alone…to chase after you I might add.”  He glared at her pointedly.

“Wait one minute, buster!  Don’t you dare try to blame me for your misbehaving demon seed!”

He sighed and conceded, knowing somehow she was at least partially right.  But his more demony half fought even this, wanting to taking her and teach her a lesson in submission.  Angel shook his head, shattering the thought immediately before it could take hold.  The seer would be quite the challenge and he was not sure that even Angelus was up to it.

“I’ll talk to him.  But in his defense, Wesley was not a victim.”

“What do you mean?  You think he asked for this???”

“Please stop yelling, and yes I think somewhere he submitted and agreed to it.   Spike can be amazingly persuasive.  And Wes has already fallen for his many…charms.”

“Ewww!  Stop right now with the groiny details!”  She pulled a face.  “Whatever.  Just make him stop.  I WILL stake him if I see him eyeing my neck.”

~~~*~~~

By the next afternoon, Wesley was awake, sporting a massive headache and a sore ass.  He ranted about the first and kept the latter to himself.  Apparently he was not as discreet as he thought since Willow saw fit to toss ambiguous comments his way.

The redhead was antsy.  Spike was still sleeping, having rushed in the doors just as dawn broke.  He took the recently deceased Daniel to a long-trusted friend to be delivered to a certain Sunnydale cemetery; the same one he found himself in when he escaped the little hellhole.   He was, therefore, destined to sleep the afternoon away, which left Willow feeling empty and restless.  Wesley was angry and would not play.  Cordelia was being aloof and her grandsire was gone.  He took the sewers to the office, checking it for recent visitors of the unwelcome kind.

She hoped the minions rose early.  They were her first.  She already thought of them as hers, and Spike told her that when this was over, if the fledges were not dust, he would give them to her and they would be her attendants until she was old enough to choose and make her own.

So she waited for them, going to the room every few minutes, kicking them to speed up the process, although she was certain that the kicking did no such thing, but that was what she would say if she got caught.

On one of the trip, Spike turned over, watching her with curiosity as she picked at Steve.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped and bit her own tongue.  “Fuck Spike!  When did you wake, Sire?”  She looked at him askance, swallowing her blood.

“Don’t abuse the minions.  It’s not sporting.”  He rolled over and snatched a cigarette.  She found his lighter on the floor and lit it for him.   Rather than admit to guilt she changed the subject.

“Wesley’s mad, Angel’s gone, and Cordy is weird.”

“Figured the watcher would be sore about it.” He nodded, taking a drag.  Willow giggled that Spike was unaware of his little pun.

“Were you really going to turn him?”  This topic excited her.  She wanted the tall brunette for a brother.  He was smart and would be very good at creating mischief.

“Yeah, fucking Angelus came in and put an end to it.  Says we need ‘im alive.”  He sighed and stretched on the bed, his muscles flexing erotically. “The bastard’s right, but still…he’s a sweet one to fuck, Willow.  He begs so good for it, too.  Don’t worry, he’ll be ours as soon as we get this Initiative off our backs.”

She climbed on the bed, straddled him and leaned over for a quick kiss before asking, “Do you think they got the message?”

~~~*~~~

The elevator ride down was strange yet uneventful.  The bleak whiteness alluded to an purity of intention that was non-existent.   Professor Walsh had paged Riley and Buffy.    They approached the woman who was already speaking with Graham.

“Professor,” he greeted solemnly.

“Agent Finn, Ms Summers.”

“Buffy.”

“Yes, Buffy.”  The word seemed to taste bad.  “Riley, we’ve received a package.”

“The disc?” He asked hopefully.

“No.  But something infinitely more interesting.”

~Part: 25~

Buffy refrained from retching, yet for a moment it was all too much for her to stomach.  She had seen so much as the Slayer already, but this mess of stripped flesh, crushed bone and cartilage was a person.  Not that it remotely resembled a human form any longer, but she recognized a human skull when she saw one.   She covered her mouth as she gasped, nearly vomiting anyway as the perfume of decay raped her senses.

“Oh God…what…?”  She managed, blinking back tears.  “Who…who did this?”  <Please God…This can’t be Willow!!!!!>

Professor Walsh had already had time to acclimate herself to the grotesque display before them and proceeded with her usual professional detachment.  Buffy assumed that the woman was just a cold-hearted bitch and immediately chided herself.  Ironically, her initial opinions were so close to the mark as to have been psychic.

“We believe it is the work of the elusive Hostile 17 that escaped a month ago.  I’d find him almost intriguing if he weren’t so brutally destructive.”  She had not forgotten the damage he had inflicted on the workers in the facility during his escape or those that he and his consort destroyed when pursued.

“What is it?  What kind of demon I mean?”  She asked, remembering the information she heard about a hostile 17 and a redhead leaving the dorms one night, the Initiative in pursuit.

Riley chimed in. “It’s a vampire.  And by all reports, it is much stronger than any we’ve come across and pretty cunning.  Not subject to fits of rage like the others.  It tricked the techs into thinking it drank the drugged blood and that’s how it got out.”

She wanted to say ‘well duh’.  Most vampires, after a few months, can smell or taste anything tainting blood.  Childer can do it from the day they rise.  And a master can go days without feeding before they submit to bloodlust.   How were these people able to catch anything?

“And now it’s not alone.”

Buffy glanced at the professor, dreading what was coming next.  “What do you mean?”

“It has a companion.  We think it was a student here, a girl, but no one has filed a missing persons report.  And we’ve tracked it to Los Angeles, where it was hiding at a detective agency of all things.”

Slowly, the world faded around her until there was nothing.  No sounds, but the screaming and scratching inside her head.  An image so ugly in its truth that she forbade it entrance into her consciousness.

And then Riley was helping her up from the floor.  “….think she’s coming around…”  She heard, but he was far away and tiny.  “Buffy, can you hear me?”  His large hands felt warm and comforting against her damp skin.

“Lay her on the table.”  For the professor this was the perfect excuse to get a sample of the slayer’s blood.

“Not next to that!”  He protested, carefully lifting her in his arms and refusing to let her go.

Light crept back into her vision as she was able to see again, and the blinding whiteness of the room was impressed upon her again.

“I’m okay,” she said shakily, not believing it herself.  “I think I should go…”  She pushed away from Riley until he relinquished his hold and set her down.

Maggie Walsh studied the girl, realizing it was something about the hostile, the companion, or Los Angeles that had so affected her.   “Alright Buffy.  I recommend you get some rest.

The blonde nodded grimly, exiting through the sliding door, Riley a step behind.

“Agent Finn… a word please.”

“I’ll meet you back in my room.”  One more autonomic nod the slayer was gone.

“Maggie?”

“That girl knows something.  Her reaction was too extreme.  Something upset her terribly.”

“It may have been the body…” he suggested offhandedly.

“No…she’s the slayer, Riley, she’s seen worse.”  Her cold eyes stared off, refracting light strangely, analyzing, as the boy from Iowa waited with a soldier's patience.   “No, she knows something.  I’ll bet she came to pick our brains for information.  Stay close to her, Riley.  Find out what she’s up to.”

~~~*~~~

She ran.

Never stopping in her boyfriend’s overtly male room, never even thinking of it, all the way to Giles’ apartment.  She banged on the door, which for once was locked, the sound echoing in her head as she abused the wood.  Everything still seemed so far away.

The once proper British scholar opened the door, alarmed by the sight of his slayer so distressed.

“Buffy, what’s happened?”  He led her to the well-worn sofa that dominated the room, guiding her gently to sit.  She was still trying to catch her breath, but began telling him what she suspected, her voice hitching periodically.

“They had a vampire…it got away and took Willow with it.  Walsh…she said the vampire made a companion now, Giles.  She’s been turned!”  Her tiny hand covered her face as she sobbed painfully.  The watcher was unsure this meant that Willow was a vampire, even though he was certain something terrible had befallen the young witch.

“Why are you so sure of this…”  She cried harder, becoming incoherent.  “Buffy!”  He shook her firmly.  “Why do you think this now, after all this time of being so sure you would find her alive?”

She gathered herself, and Giles fetched a glass cold of water for her while she regained some semblance of composure.  She drank it half down, letting it clear her head, her breathing harsh, but not as erratic as before and sighed.

“It was Walsh.  They had a vampire, called Hostile 17.  It got away and they weren’t able to hunt the thing down.  A few days ago, Willy lets it slip that this same vampire was carrying a redhead out of the dorm.   Now Maggie just said the vampire made the redhead it’s companion.  And that they traced them to a detective agency in Los Angeles!”

It was lens-polishing time for the Brit.

“Now what vampire could get away from these soldiers, take Willow in the process, and would be associated with a detective agency in L.A.?”

Giles could think of two, but one had been spotted in Sunnydale around the same time that the redhead disappeared.

“Spike.”

“Right.”  Her big hazel eyes took on a hard glint as her jaw tighten.  “So Angel has been lying to me all this time.”

~~~*~~~

Angel came up from the damp tunnels into the cold concrete basement of Wesley’s building.  His trip to the office had been fruitful.  Someone had been inside recently, which meant that they probably had someone watching as well.   He took a few items of clothing and the book he'd been reading, and slipped away silently, unnoticed.

Now, as the elevator hummed as if bored with its own mundane existence, the dark vampire pondered his childe; How to keep him; And how to keep Wesley safe from him.  Because despite everything, he understood that Spike would turn the human soon if he did not intervene.  But his frustration only increased as he admitted, if only in is head, that he did not have the resolve to forbid his boy from doing what he wanted.  Not by force.  He wanted Spike more than he wanted to save Wesley.  It was that simple.

He approached the door, hearing the radio playing inside, and knocked softly.   A sleepy seer opened it after a few seconds.

“So is it safe?  Can we go back?”  Nothing like subtly.

“Someone’s been inside. I can uh… smell them.  I think they’re still watching the place.”  He walked past her and dropped the duffle with his things.  Willow was asleep on the couch, curled into a little ball.  He could smell her blood and her sire. Tantalizing.  Family.

“So that would be a big fat no, huh?”  She pouted.  “I need clothes.  Can we go to my place?”

“Maybe…I need to think a minute.”  He mind was still on the imminent destruction of the man who seemed to want to be his friend.  A real friend.   He looked around.  “Where’s Wes?”

“Where do you think?  In there with the evil dead.”

The vampire was in the bedroom before she finished her sentence, chastising himself for not noticing the man was not in the livingroom as soon as he had returned.

The scene before him was nearly as shocking as the one the night before.  There was a bowl of popcorn between them and Wesley was sitting up leaning against the headboard, while the younger vampire laid on his back, head hanging slightly off the foot of the bed and they were both engrossed in an episode of Passions, mindlessly munching in the drama-filled silence.

The blond looked up first, having felt his sire’s presence immediately, but ignoring him as usual.  “Oi Peaches, be a luv and bring us some beers, mate.”

~Part: 26~

He came to his senses just short of the refrigerator, pivoting quickly to stalk back to the bedroom. The blond glanced up from the television expectantly.

“Beers?”

“Wes, out.”

Wesley looked up with a scowl.  “Angel, I’ll have you know that I am not accustomed to…”

“OUT!”  He roared before nearly whispering, “Now… please?”

“Better go, pet.  Paingel is feeling a bit Jeckyl-Hydish.”  He grabbed the remote to channel surf.

The brunette stood from the bed, his chin defiantly firm.  “He can ask nicely.  This IS my home that you’ve all invaded.”

“Yeah, Angelus, say ‘pretty please’.”  Spike’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched his sire fume.  He could just about see the steam puffs shooting from his ears.

With a huge sigh, Angel turned his full attention to Wesley.  “Please leave the room, Wesley. I have a few things to discuss with my childe - privately.”

“There.  Now you see...there is no need for rudeness in any situation.”  He slid past Angel, quickening his pace when a tiny growl erupted from the older demon.

Spike, still hanging upside down, pretended to watch television while Angel stepped over the still-sleeping minions and sat on the unmade bed.

“You have to keep your teeth out of Wesley.”

Rolling onto his taunt stomach, the vampire only nodded, not in agreement, but that he heard his sire’s words.

“I can’t even explain Willow to Buffy... How would I begin to explain Wes?”

“Nothing to explain really.  I came, I saw, I turned.  Not necessarily in that order.”

“Ha ha.”  He trained warm brown eyes on his boy. “Seriously…Wes does not want to be a vampire.  I don’t know what you did…”

“It was very similar to what Angelus did and I was fighting you tooth and nail.  Not that it mattered.”    He lowered his head and poked out soft lips. “Are you…pouting??”

He looked up quickly, blue eyes wide.  “No!”

“And do you want that for Wesley?”

“Hell yeah.  Willow was not all that keen on the idea, at first.  But she loves it now.  Wes’ll come around.  That’s the fun part, ya know.”

Angel shook his head, chuckling slightly.  “Yeah, I do…But no turning him.  Not now.  Please, there is too much going on for you to get all paternal and in the family expansion way.”

“Not like I gotta carry ‘im for nine months.”

“No.  Just for eternity.  But you would be a sight.”

“Wanker.”

They sat for a moment, each lost to his own thoughts.

“I have to tell Buffy something soon.”  He cringed, expecting the inevitable tantrum.

“I expect you do.  And since you say she’s against these people, then it might be advantageous to have her as a reluctant ally.”

“Wow…not what I expected.”  He reached over and checked his childe for a fever, smiling.

“No, I never was.”  The blond grinned.

~~~*~~~

Xander paced Giles’ living room, agitated and angry.  Anya sat on the sofa, having given up on trying to tempt the young man into joining her.

“Buffy, if you go there and Angel has lost his soul, how do you propose to fight him and Spike alone?”  Giles was exhausting all reasoning, but the slayer was on a mission.

“And Willow… she’s going to try to kill you too.”  Anya offered, smiling and nodding.

It was one way to stop Xander’s pacing.

“Yes…well it is true.”

“I can’t sit here knowing he is loose in Los Angeles.  And it’s only a matter of time before he comes here for all of us.  Spike will make sure of it.”

“Then he will have killed his third slayer.  You know no other vampire has killed three and only William the Bloody, Dracula and Alanas have killed two.  But no one even remembers Alanas, because she was a female vampire and we all know how a patriarchy ignores the accomplishments of women.”  She looked around for support of her theory, scowling slightly. “What?!”

“Look, guys, I’m going.  End of story.   For all I know, Cordelia is a vampire too, and that would really be the worst thing possible.”

“Worse than Harmony?”  Xander chimed in.

“It’s Cordelia, duh.”

“Buffy, stop it.  We know no such thing.  We don’t even know if Angel has turned.”

The phone ringing stopped the rest of Giles’ speech.

“Buff, if you go, I go.”  The brunette was calm, but insistent.  “She’s my best friend and I love her.”

“But not more than me right? And in a undeniably platonic way.  Like a sister!”

“Anya, I love you in different way than Willow, but I still love her.  Okay hon?”

That seemed to appease the ex-demon for the moment as she stood up and planted enthusiastic kisses all over his face.  The petite blonde openly grimaced.

“…Yes of course…she’s right here, ANGEL.”

Everyone froze.  After a few seconds, Buffy moved toward the old 1970 style phone on the desk.

“Angel?........Yeah, I’m okay.  Still looking for Willow……I tried to call……oh…attacked when?...…oh….....where are….…no, no, no I’ll come to you…why?……fine…tomorrow night.  Hold on, let me get a pen…”  She scrambled through the mess on her watcher’s desk, locating a yellow highlighter.   “Okay….got it.  8 o’clock, yeah.  Angel?...Nothing, see you tomorrow.”

She hung up with her finger, but held the phone to her heart.  The other’s waited, not sure of what was to come.

“Well, don’t just stand there!  You’re killing my Xander.  What did he say?”  Anya demanded in her usual offensive way as she stroked his arm to comfort him.

The slayer nodded, understanding that they all needed to know.

“That was Angel,” she held a hand up at Anya just daring her to make a sound.   Taking a deep breath she started again.  “He said that the Initiative came to his offices and tried to kill him.  He left and is staying somewhere else.  He wants to meet at a motel, halfway.  Talk.”

“About what?”  The fear in Giles’ voice was warranted.

“He knows what happened to Willow.”

“What?”  Xander.

“Did he say where she is?”

She shook her head, tears spilling.  If he would not tell her over the phone, it was bad.

“I’m going.”  The young man said adamantly.

“He said to bring you and Giles.”

Anya pouted a little, but for once kept her thoughts to herself.

“So why not tonight?  Maybe it’s a trap.”  He pulled his girlfriend closer to him, suddenly needing her comfort

“Then, we’ll just have to be ready for anything.”

~Part: 27~

If there was ever a time that Buffy Summers was lost and bewildered, it was now.  She sat in the back seat of Xander’s car with Giles.  The watcher’s legs were folded uncomfortably, but she heard no complaint.  Even Anya was silent, lacking a clever quip for so somber a time, as they moved along the darkened highway toward a motel where her ex-boyfriend would be waiting.

Willow.

In the next hour she would find out what happened to her best friend and fellow scoobie.  She was certain that the news was dire, terrible even.  Angel would have given her hope had there been any to give.  Instead he insisted on a face to face meeting which, in her mind, equaled the worst.

Willow was dead.

The concept overwhelmed her and Buffy gasped, inhaling shakily as Giles looked over at his slayer, eyes brimming with unshed tears for the missing redhead.    His large hand covered her deceptively small one, a squeeze making her smile weakly.

And the guilt was never ending.  Willow was her responsibility.  Her friend.  By allowing the young witch to help with the slaying duties she owed her protection.

<How could this have happened?>

A small optimistic part of her rebelled at the negative thoughts, hoping against hope that Willow was still alive, perhaps hurt, but savable.   She clung to these as a drowning person would to a life-preserver.   The pain in her chest, making it impossible to breathe, only subsided then, when the notions of death for her friend were dispelled, if only temporarily.

She fidgeted so Giles released her hand as she stared out at nothing, really seeing Willow everywhere she turned.   Xander’s eyes flicked up to catch hers in the rearview mirror.  The soft brown orbs never lingered for long, just long enough to reassure her that he would be there and would not let her fall apart.  She wrapped her arms around herself, not cold, yet chilled just the same.

~~~*~~~

It was a decent motel as motels go, nothing special yet definitely not dirty or cheap.   But the attempt at southwestern charm missed the mark, lending the place a cheesiness that rubbed against you.

Angel sat brooding, irritated by the too-loud wall paper, depicting cacti and scorpions in vivid teal and red.  His seer was quiet as well, not looking forward to what would have to be the confrontation of the century.

She was of the belief that nothing good ever happened when Angel spoke to Buffy.  The angst would be heavy, stinking in the air for days, and the vampire’s game would be off considerably, putting him and those who fought by his side at risk.

Cordelia really did not like Buffy.

During senior year they came to a level of mutual respect.  Buffy realized Cordelia was more than a self-centered, superficial, mall-hopping bitch, although the bitch part was all good in the brunette’s book.  And Cordelia came to understand the pressures and burden the slayer endured to keep the world safe from those that would destroy it.  It was not an easy truce and suffered many upsets, but they walked away after graduation knowing the other a little better, and happier for the distance.

With less than an hour before each would set eyes and tongue lashings upon the other, Cordy was in the bathroom, under brutally truthful florescent light, touching up her make-up.   There was no way she would be greeting the slayer looking slagged.

Wesley, per usual, hemmed and hawed over the vampire before him, unconsciously thinking about the vampires they left in LA.  The fledglings had arisen, hungry and a bit aggressive.  Spike said he and Willow would use the time to show them who was the top dog.  Unstated was the fact that he would be talking them on a hunting lesson.

The watcher preferred not to think of these more unpleasant things, Angel brooded over them and Cordelia complained about them, but no one bothered to stop them.  And each pondered where they know stood.  Was tolerance of an evil a form of evil?

The digital clock on the bedside table signaled the passing of another minute.  As Cordelia emerged from the bathroom, looking expectantly stunning, she snatched a bottle of water from the small ice bucket.  Champagne did not seem appropriate.

The soft knock at the door, amplified in its solitude, startled them all.  Angel’s brow creased just as the seer’s brow went up.

It was Wesley who finally gave in and slunk silently to the door, jumping when the knock came, louder this time, just as he looked through the peephole.  He jerked the door open, edgy with tension.

“Ah…Ms. Summers.  Mr. Giles.  Do come in.”  He stepped aside, ignoring the shocked expressions that greeted him.  “Hello Xander.  Miss…”  He added as the ex-demon entered last.

By now Angel was standing, lurking, looming next to the small circular table.

“Buffy.  Hi.”  His eyes darted over everyone else.   “Rupert.  Harris.  Anya?”  He thought the former vengeance demon had skipped town.

“Hi Cordy.  You’re looking really good.”  Xander still felt he need to grovel before her.  Guilt perhaps.  Anya kicked his shin.

“Nice of you to notice, Xander.  Fortunately that scar on my belly goes with everything.  And now that you all know who you are can we get this over with?”

Angel rolled his eyes, but saw her point.  No amount of pleasantries would ease this news.

Buffy sat at the table by her ex.  Cordelia flopped on the full size bed furthest from the gathering and grabbed the TV guide, feigning disinterest in the proceedings, while Anya tested out the firmness of the other mattress, nudging Xander.

“What is Wesley doing here?”  It was a fair question, considering.

“He works with me now.”

“And when were you planning to tell me this?”

The souled vampired sighed.  Sometimes the slayer was a bit self-involved.  “It never occurred to me that I needed to get your acknowledgement, permission, or approval to employ skilled demon hunters.”

“But it’s Wesley!”

“Buffy, please!   Aside from the fact it is none of your business how Angel runs his, this is not why we are here.”

Duly chastised, she pouted silently.  Cordelia hid her smirk.

“Where’s Willow, Deadboy?  Xander had been waiting, fuming as Buffy went through her ritualistic challenging of her ex-boyfriend’s life.   That she could not put it aside for Willow enraged him.

Angel wanted to growl at the boy.   Actually he wanted to take him back to Spike for a lesson in respect.  He did neither, opting instead to start from the beginning.

“It’s a long story.  Or maybe a short one, but I think that with all the interruptions and shouts it’ll end up long.”

“Please, Angel, just tell me, what happened to her.”  The small blonde placed her warm hand on his cool one, infusing him with her heat.  Once that touch was all he desired.  Now it just felt odd.

“The Initiative captured Spike.”

Xander suppressed a snoopy dance, but could not help the heartfelt, “Yes!”

Before anyone realized what happened the table was overturn, Buffy slumped against the wall awkwardly trapped behind it, and the vampire had Xander by the throat, the strain of the soul trying to reign in the demon evident as his features fluctuated.  Giles and Wesley were first to react pulling futilely at the powerful arm, uselessly prying at his fingers.

“Angel!  Let him go!”  Buffy shouted from the corner, pulling herself up.

He dropped him instantly, growling as he back away.  He would not apologize.

“What the hell?  What’s wrong with you?”  Her tiny form glared up at the looming figure demanding an explanation.

The demon shook his head, no intention of discussing his feelings for his childe with anyone at that moment.  “I’ll tell you about Willow.  But HE shuts the fuck up or gets out.”  He righted the table and his chair, sitting down hard, all the years of roaming the earth taking their toll this particular evening.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know what happened to my Wills!”  He stepped up, ready to fight, knowing he would lose.  Badly.  Angel took a step toward him only to find the brightly dyed blonde head between him and his prey of choice.

“Stop it now.”  Angel continue to glower at the young man so Buffy waited, wary of what the vampire would do before she could stop him.  Finally Angel sat.  “Okay…What can you tell us?”  she asked.

He was angry.  Xander’s callous rejoicing in a potentially deadly situation for his childe put the young human on the top of Angelus’ kill list.  Therefore everything came out a little harsher than he had planned.

“Spike was captured.  Got away.  He went looking for Buffy thinking she was behind the soldiers, but found Willow instead.  She’d dead.  He turned her.  She’s his childe now."

~~~*~~~

“What are they saying?”

Graham was fast becoming a pain.  Riley would not have brought him along but he didn’t have time to ditch his friend and trail Buffy.  He barely caught up on the highway and was at a huge disadvantage, no equipment, no weapons, no crew.

“I don’t know and won’t know.  We’re out here blind.”

“Call Walsh.  She can send in a unit.”

“No.  We have no idea what’s going on in there, and some of the teams aren’t known for subtly.”

If Buffy discovered him out there, following her around for Professor Walsh, any chance at advancing their relationship would be void.  As it was this seemed to be a bust.  Nothing was happening that he could see and he was anxious to get back to Sunnydale.

“And we’ll never know if you don’t call Walsh.”

Graham was all business.  This was the mission.  Learn what the legendary slayer was hiding and report back.  Granted it was Riley’s mission, not his, but as long as he was there he wanted to do things right.

His hand moved toward his cell phone.  The taller man stopped him with a strong hand.

“No.  We are not calling for a team, Graham.”

“Then we at least get closer.  Listen.”

They stared at each other for half a minute, Graham wondering what Riley’s issues were, Riley thinking of getting caught verses knocking his friend out.

Finally he nodded.  “Let’s go around back.  The bathroom has to have a window.”

~~~*~~~

Xander was being restrained by Wesley and Giles as he screamed his grief and obscenities at the vampire.  Anya tried to calm him without success.

The blonde remained seated, looking small, eyes empty, preparing for the task of slaying her best friend.  She was obvious to the chaos around her

“You’re dead!  You’re FUCKING DEAD!  I will find that bleached bitch and kill him and then I’m killing YOU!!!”  He lurched nearly escaping the watchers’ hold.

This went on for several minutes and no one noticed the room phone ringing.  Cordelia reached over and answered.  She listened to someone speaking then agreed to handle it, hanging up quietly.

“ALL RIGHT!!!!!”  Her voice cut through the thickness, shrill and unrelenting.  When all eyes were focused on her she continued.  “That was the front desk.  People are complaining.  Unless you want to get kicked out or have the cops show up, I suggest you all shut up and listen.”

“How dare you!  My best friend is dead.  A fucking vampire…”  Buffy came to life, a habit when challenged by the Queen C.

“Yada, yada, yada.  Willow’s a vampire.  The world is not ending, Buffy.  That’s what we deal with, world endage stuff.  And I tell ya, this aint it.  Willow screwed up. Invited him in.  She paid the price.”

“Where is Spike?”  Her jaw was tight as the slayer veil crept over her.  Angel saw it, like a coat she donned for special occasions, practical and beautiful.  It heightened his senses, the threat of her in this mode making him of aware of everything around him.  Suddenly their heartbeats where everywhere, surrounding him and calling to the demon within, enticing the hunger that was never truly gone.

His head tilted strangely, eyes flecked with golden splashes, demon assisting him in assessing the dangers in the environment.  Buffy and Cordelia noticed this change in him while the others fused and cried, oblivious.   He made eye contact with his seer, placing a finger over his mouth, a small shake of his head.  Then his eyes flicked to the slayer, questioningly.

Someone was in the bathroom.  Two someones.  Did she bring them?

Buffy shook her head.  She understood that he heard or felt something somewhere, but had no knowledge of whom or what it might be.

“Where is he?  I should have staked him last year when he took Willow for that stupid spell.”  She would not be distracted.

“I can’t tell you that.  I’ve told you what I came here to say.”  He opened the bathroom door swifty, glaring at shocking emptiness.  But heartbeats were still there, animated and tempting.

Outside.

~Part: 28~

Riley leaned on the stucco covered wall.  The bathroom window was right above his head, locked, and the periodic muffled shouts were unintelligible.   He thought he heard Xander yelling something about bleach killing, but that made no sense no matter how many contexts he imagined.

And now it was quiet, absent of even that low murmur that characterized normal conversation.

“It’s quiet.”

“Yeah.”   Riley tried to keep his tone even, but was annoyed by his friend for stating the obvious

“Maybe they left.”

Riley turned about and stood on toes, just able to see over the rim of the small window.  The bathroom door was ajar and the light filtering in was a new thing, not there five minutes earlier.   “Shit!”

“What?”

“Shit!   Come on!  And be quiet!!”  The whisper was harsh as he reached out to grab roughly at Graham’s jacket, hauling the agent along with him, across the darkened parking lot and into the nearby cover of trees.   For humans, the pair was exceptionally stealthy.  Once convinced they were safe from discovery, they stopped, panting, hearts slamming and ringing in their ears.

A dark figure, large and male, slipped nearly unnoticed around the corner of the building, blending with the shadows perfectly, almost seeming to be an illusion, unreal.   His head tilted upward as if he listened to something no one could hear, tasted something that could not have flavor, and slowly he turned, preternatural eyes locking onto the spot where the two were concealed.  Riley was sure that they were well hidden, but froze as the man waved a large hand at them, then pivoted, going back the way he came, cadence purposeful.

They waited, crouching behind the thicket of bush and tree, controlled, shallow breaths not enough, but afraid to take in more.  When the cramping starting to become too painful, by mutual agreement they cautiously made their way back to Riley’s car, leaving the motel and any chance of finding out what Buffy was doing behind.

~~~*~~~

“Did you find anyone?”  Buffy asked anxiously.

He shook his head, closing the door behind him.  “No.  Although someone was there.  I ... could smell them.  But they left.  Hid.”

“They?”

“Yeah.  Two.”

All present wondered what they apparent spies were after or who, but there was no point going over it now.  According to the slayer, they had a bigger fish to fry, namely Spike.

“You never did answer my question Angel.  Where is he?”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it, marking how truly upset he was.  “I didn’t forget.  I have no intention of telling you right now.”

Xander tried to leap up again from the seat, but Giles had a firm grip on the boy.  The older watcher was quite aware of the differences between Angel and Angelus.  Today it was hard to see them.  Either that or both were present.   However, it did no good to fight a battle that could not be won.  The vampire was not going to give up the blond or Willow.

The small blonde sighed and slumped onto the corner of a bed, eyes downcast and defeated.

“What’s she like?”

They all turned to look at Anya.

“What?  You know you wanna know, too.”  She ignored Buffy’s indignant huff and focused on the vampire.  “What’s she like?  As a demon?”

Angel frowned.  Was this something he wanted to discuss with them?    Would it make them more afraid of her and therefore more likely for her to be staked?  Or would they relax their guard, thinking her less than a full demon and seal their own fates eventually?

“She’s Willow, but not.  Still likes computers, babbles a bit...”

“But what?”  Xander asked, momentarily forgetting his desire to kill the demon.

He sighed.  “But don’t be fooled.  She’s a childe of my blood.  A powerful killer with a master for a sire, Angelus’ most favored childe, who has taught her a lot these past few weeks.  She’s well in control of her demon and can seem like your Willow.  But she will never be your Willow again.  She belongs to him.”   His eyes never left Xander’s while he spoke and the youth got the definite feeling that Angel was alerting them to the dangers she posed to them as well as warning them off.  Spike and Willow were off limits in a very non-negotiable way.  And a hint of pride was there as well, subtle, but indeniable.

“So when do we get to see her?”

Angel laughed out loud.  “When she’s ready you won’t have to ask that question.”

~~~*~~~

Wesley’s kitchen was trashed.  The litter across the table consisted of hand-made drawings of the interior of the Initiative.  Lack of artistic ability must have been a requirement to join the G.I. Joe squad.

“Go over it again and make all entrances green, if a security access is needed add a streak of yellow.  Can you do that for me...”  He looked at his childe whose head was bent over the computer keyboard.  “Red, what’s this one’s name?”

“Eric.  Steve has the black hair and is tied up and broken.”  She replied without looking up.

“Can you do that for me, Eric?”

“Y-yes, Spike.”  He nodded furiously, determined not to meet the same fate as Steve.

Steve was, in Eric’s opinion, stupid.

When they arose both were surprised to be alive, but soon discovered the not-so-awful truth as an indescribable hunger engulfed them.   Two humans, smelling delicious, were near, and Steve, who had taken to his new status as the living dead surprisingly well, had assumed the man and woman were food.  For them.  When Spike disabused that notion the new demon did not take it well.

The resulting fight lasted only a few seconds, yet Eric was amazed by the amount of damage the master inflected on the disrespectful fledgling.   He was also irritated as it meant a delay in actually getting fed.

He was inclined to call the blond vampire Sire.  It seemed the only thing fitting.  Yet Spike would not allow it, stating that only his childe, the redheaded one pouring over a computer, would call him Sire.  So he addressed his blonde master as Spike.

“Get to it then, mate.  I want these done before we go out to hunt.”  He pivoted on his heel and stalked over to the corner of the room which had been delegated to the punished.

The fledging was wrapped up in a cocoon of nylon rope from his shoulders to his hips.  Spike bent to checked Steve’s broken legs, which were set and taped, and determined that the appendages would take a while longer to heal without fresh blood, but the blond had no intention of spoon feeding a minion.  This one would have to sit out the hunt tonight.

<Nothing like going without dinner to set a new vampire on the right course.>

He slapped the minion’s face, waking him rudely from an already troubled sleep.  Bleary yellowed eyes snapped open, demon visage melting away quickly when it recognized its master.

“Spike?”

“How do they feel?”  He motioned to the lower extremities.

He tried to moved them, wincing from the pain, and grunted.  “Not great.”  He refrained from adding “as you already know”.

“Guess that means no dinner for you then.”  He rose to his full height, eyebrow raised.

“What?  Hey!”

“Look, I don’t coddle minions.  You earn your keep or you don’t get kept.   Right now, you can’t even feed yourself and I certainly won’t.”

Steve had the decency to look discomfited.

“You’ll heal by tomorrow night, but if your attitude hasn’t improved, you’ll go hungry again.”

Spike laughed when the demon tried pouting.  This must have worked on the boys parents, lending him the misconception that it was endearing.  However, since Spike was the reigning king of the Adorable Pout, he knew better.

~~~*~~~

Spike, Eric discovered, was actually fun to be around.  The master vampire had given him a hunting lesson, basic biting 101 Willow called it, and then let him have at it.  At first, the former soldier was nervous, not knowing who to pick or why.  He made a few selections, which either Willow or Spike vetoed for varying reasons.  Eventually he chose a victim that met both demons’ approval.  He wasted no time and grabbed the girl from behind, yanking her head to the left and slicing into her artery, nearly coming in his pants when the first taste of blood splashed across his tongue.  He drained her quickly, too ravenous to slow down and savor all the different flavors she yielded in her dying.  The body hit the ground with a thud.

Willow remembered how it was her first time and smiled at the minion.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned back, his panting heard loudly over the sounds of the city.

“Is…is it always…like that?”  The hot blood sung in his veins, tingled in his head and throbbed in his groin.

“Mostly?  Yeah.  Sometimes it’s bland, you know, like baked chicken and rice.  But that’s because you picked baked chicken and rice instead of a zesty, tender steak with creamy, buttery potatoes.   Everything is on the menu, Eric.  You just have to look it over carefully and chose wisely.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t say more, still attempting to catch his breath.

“And you don’t require the air so you can stop breathing anytime.”

“Oh yeah, huh.”

The small group started toward Sunset, attracting no more attention than three good looking people would.   Spike and Willow had yet to eat and wanted to hunt the desperate and depressed tonight.   A somber meal in honor of the trying experience that Angel must be enduring in the presence of the slayer.

The minion reflected on his human life, spent hunting and torturing these magnificent creatures of which he was now one.   He knew that Spike meant to send him and Steve back to the Initiative and that he planned to destroy the facility and everyone in it.  All his friends, men he trusted with his life, would soon be dead or wishing they were.

A feral smile came unbidden across his face.

~~~*~~~

Buffy stood by the car, talking to Angel.  Xander was in the driver’s seat, engine running with a weary Giles posted by the door in case the boy tried to start another fight with the vampire.  Anya’s attempts to pacify her man went unappreciated.

“So you think I’ll just what…let you leave?”

“It’s not like you can stop me, Buffy.”  That hated smirk crept across his features and melted away quickly.  “I’ll call you and you can talk to her if she wants.”

“Why can’t we see her?”

“Because you’re the slayer.   Her demon is revolted by the thought of you.  Being near you will be like bugs crawling under her skin.  She will have to decide whether she can handle it, because if she can’t her instincts will tell her to fight.   I don’t want that and neither should you.”

“They are soulless demons.  Why are you protecting them?”

“Because... they’re mine.  Willow may belong to Spike, but... Spike, he belongs to me.”  He held up a hand to stop her from ranting.  “Those soldiers are hunting them and we’re dealing with that first.  Then you can see Willow, provided you promise no staking, for either of them, and she and Spike are willing.”

“Spike…I don’t wanna see him, unless he’s being vacuumed up!”

“HE is her sire.  HE decides.  Goodbye Buffy.”

She watched as he turned away and treaded heavily to his car where a seer and ex-watcher waited.   The love of her life surrounded himself with Spike, Cordelia and Wesley, the three people she hated most in this world.  She trusted Faith more.  And the irony of that made her stomach hurt.

~Part: 29~

“Where’s Spike?”

Steve cowered a bit, despite his resolve.  Although Spike had a temper, when annoyed he was likely to beat you quickly and be done with it, too hyper to stay on task for long.  But this one, Angel...

<What a crock of shit that name is!>

...he seemed to exude infinite patience and a need to bring lingering pain and suffering.  It was controlled, lying beneath a calm façade, but not wholly denied, and the minion was certain he did not want to be the one to raise the ancient vampire’s interest.

“Gone.  To take the others hunting.”

Angel growled low and deep, looking at Cordelia and Wes sheepishly although he was not quite sure why.  He had been well aware of what Spike would do, would have to do with these minions, as were these people, his employees and friends.   He was grateful when they chose to pass on commenting.  Handling his willful childe was stressful enough, the added burden of placating the humans who could never understand tended to give him a headache.

He walked to the refrigerator, glancing at the minion, and pulled out two bags of blood.

“Still not heeled yet?”  He asked the fledgling.

“No, but they’re getting better.”

He put the blood in the microwave as Wesley came in to make tea.

Cordelia folded her long dancer’s legs under her toned body and settled on the sofa, which was strategically turned so that she did not have to see the vampire on the floor.  She rolled her eyes at Angel’s question, wondering if he could possibly be concerned for the demon, and slipped her hand between the sofa’s cushions.

A tiny smile graced her face as she found the stake she placed there before they left to meet with the Sunnydale crew.  The new vampire had caught her by surprise, almost getting a bite out of her before Spike snatched him roughly and proceeded to explain the rules of the unlife to the snarling demon.   But he would not get another chance.  She resolved that the blond would find himself short one lackey if the minion ever came after her again.

With warmed blood in a mug, Angel stood over Steve.  “You’ll heal pretty fast.  Spike made you strong intentionally.”  The young vampire’s nostrils flared, catching the scent of the cup's contents.  He gave Angel a look of longing, but said nothing.  “You haven’t fed yet.”  It was a statement.  He knew the demon was famished.

“No... sir.”  The title of respect was an intentional afterthought.

Angel squatted, becoming level with resistant eyes.

“You won’t either.  Not until you lose the arrogance.  He is your master, demon.  You owe your existence to him.  You’re his to use and destroy if that’s what he wants.”

Wesley leaned on the counter while his tea steeped, listening to what was sounding more and more like Angelus by the minute.

He took a sip of the blood, his tongue chasing a stray drop while Steve watched with undisguised hunger.  “And if you go after one of mine again, you won’t have to worry about my boy.”  He unfolded to his full height, looming and dark.  “ And you really won’t have to worry about dying.”   He pivoted on his heel and went outside to wait for the other vampires to return.

As the door clicked closed, the fledgling’s eyes darted around frantically as he realizing he was alone, trussed and helpless with the humans he had tried to eat earlier.  The male glared at him, emitting a malevolence that the demon only could appreciate.

“What did he mean?”  He asked his curiosity getting the better of his fear.

Wesley ignored the question and continued adding sugar to the tea then carried a cup to Cordelia, who accepted it gratefully.  Once done tending to his guest he allowed the vampire his attention.

“He means, if you try anything with anyone here, Spike won’t be the one you answer to, it will be him.  And dusting is not in the cards for you.  Although, I suspect you’d be wishing for it desperately.“  Picking up his own cup he walked past Steve toward his bedroom, intent on cleaning up the mess the blonde had made.   A bare foot tapped him in passing.

“You…you smell like him…the master.  What are you?”

Wesley eyed him curiously, wondering what possible answer he could give when he had no idea himself.  He had strayed so far from his aspirations this year and had no real direction.  Was he susceptible to the lure of two bewitching demons because he was lost and they made he feel wanted?  Should he resist these urges, discarding them as a passing fancy, deadly and delicious?  Realizing further ruminations would only bring more confusion in his mind, he decided to use the vampire and get some answers in the process.

“Ask Spike... I am whatever he says I am.”
~~~*~~~
 

His seat on the stairs leading up to the glass door of the apartment building’s empty lobby afforded him a small view of the neighborhood.  The air was crisp, but unaffected he sat with no coat, thinking of the meeting with Buffy.   It went better than he expected and he was surprised that they all departed as cordially as they did.  Yet things were far from settled and she would not sit still for long.  She wanted to see Willow.  Part of it was a lingering concern for her best friend, a hope that some of that the girl that she loves remained so that she did not have to kill her.  The rest of her wanted to get confirmation that there was nothing left of her friend so that she could kill her, grieve and be done.  The situation was volatile enough, so Angel wanted to delay that confrontation until Willow was stronger and Spike was not in a frenzied mode of protection.

Angel sensed them getting closer and steeled himself for the onslaught of blood, the smell that would permeate their essence and bombard him in a few seconds.

Laughter and the vibrating pull of the bond became more intense as the three vampires rounded the corner, Spike’s eyes locking on his sire’s questioningly.   Angel nodded and Spike relaxed somewhat.

Willow took the stairs two at a time, sitting next to Angel as Spike came up behind her, quizzical.   She put her tiny hands on the brunette’s shoulders, turning him to face her.  He jumped a bit as she dove into his neck, not biting, but nuzzling and inhaling him.    She pulled back quickly in her true visage.

“I smell them on you.  I smell Xander.”  She lunged forward again, this time held back by Angel, who was chuckling.

“Yes.  They were very... concerned for you.”   He raised an eyebrow at his childe.

Spike took the hint and pulled Willow up to standing, circling her waist with his arms to keep her still.

“I want to see Xander, Spike.  Can I have him?”

The blond rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Not yet, baby.  I told you before.  The slayer and her pets are off limits...for now.  Angel won’t like it.”  His kissed the top of her head, releasing her with a swat to her bottom.  “Now, be a good girl and go on in.  And take Eric with you.”

“Can I play with Steve?”  She asked, slipping back into her human mask.

Spike was focused on Angel now, having properly dismissed his childe so his reply was distracted.  “Yeah, just leave his legs alone, right?”

She took Eric’s hand, squeezing his hard enough to crush bone, ignoring his whimper of pain, as she bounced happily into the building, dragging the minion behind her like a toy.

Angel heard the click and hum of the elevator, watching Spike as he pulled out a cigarette, his ritualistically calming smoke break beginning.  Angel knew the younger demon had questions, but he would wait until his childe was ready to speak.  He did not have to wait long.

“So, Angel, what did the bitch say?  Are we on her ‘Mosted Wanted for Staking’ list?”

“She is not a bitch...well not always.”  They both grinned.  Spike passed the cigarette to Angel who took it with practiced ease.  They used to share many things before the soul, a cigarette being the least significant.

“Yeah, well, it’s not been my experience.  Bitch’s kicked my arse a few times.   Reminds me of Darla, she does.”  He smiled at some memory, missing the shudder as a wigged Angel imagined Darla bringing any sort of smile to his boy’s face.

“She was unhappy about this, of course.  But there was a wall, she threw it up all around her, and she’ll do her job on this one.  Keep Willow away from her for as long as you can.   Xander went a little crazy.  Oh yeah, he’s gonna find you and stake your bleached ass.”

Spike smirked.  “And here I thought it was my hair that I bleached.”

Angel rolled his eyes and held out the smoke to his childe.  “Quite the comedian.”

“If he shows you know I’ll break the boy and give him to her.  I’m done playing, Angelus.”

“I know.”

~~~*~~~

Willow had untied Steve and now straddled him.

“Wesley, come here please.”

The rouge demon hunter opened the bedroom door, carrying an armful of sheets.  He had stripped the bloodied and stained ones and remade the bed.  He stopped next to her, glancing down.

“Willow, what are you doing?  He is supposed to be tied up.”

“He needs to learn some control.”  She looked up at Wesley, green eyes sparkling and alive with a manic glee that disturbed and fascinated him equally.

“Yes, but is it your job to teach him?”  He tried to reason with the redhead.

“He’ll be mine soon, so yep, I’m making it my job.  Besides, Sire said I could play with him.”

“But did he say to untie him?”

“Didn’t say don’t.”  She shrugged.

Steve heard the conversation, but the demons attention was on the man’s neck, the pulsing vein that he could see moving from the rush of blood underneath.

“Willow…”  He started exasperated.

“Wes…  I missed you.”   Her hand found his free on, pulling him to her level as she brushed his lips with her moist hungry ones.   “Missed how you taste.”  She nibbled, urging his mouth open and explored him thoroughly until he whimpered, from lack of air or the awkward position, she did not know nor care.  Soon air would not be an issue.

Before he could regain his composure, Willow was thrown to the side hitting the wall with a low thud and Wesley was flat on his back with a ravenous vampire looming over him.  A second later, fangs pierced the tender flesh of his throat.  He was unaware of his own screams, but heard Willow’s, as the vampire turned to dust over him.  He scooted back and wiped at his nose and the blood there, still in the grips of his panic.  He was now aware that he had been screaming, but was even more alarmed at the small fires that had sprung up all over his flat.  Cordelia was up, nose bleeding as well, with the fire extinguisher from the kitchen in her hands, trying to work the mechanics of the thing.  Eric took it from her and got it functioning quickly, dousing the sprouting flames where needed.

And the redhead stood still amidst the chaos, vampiric eyes, bleeding black, then bleeding gold, the cycle repeating every few seconds until the front door burst open, reveal a harried Spike and Angel.  Upon seeing the remaining flames the blond stepped toward Eric.

“What happened?”  He growled.

The minion only shrugged, shaking his head as Spike stalked him.

Willow turned, grinning mischievously and nearly giddy with delight, her red hair hanging in her face messily.

“I guess that answers the question about whether my powers crossed over.”

~Part: 30~

“Willow.”  The blond sauntered up to her, eyeing her strangely.  “Baby... Pet... Luv.”  He reached her and began smoothing her hair back, calming her as she leaned into the touch.  “What did you do to Steve?”

“Mmmm... not sure.  He was eatin’ Wesley and you’re supposed to eat Wesley.”

The ex-watcher’s head shot up, his attention diverted from the task of helping the seer stop the blood dripping from her nose.   “Er…Let’s be clear here.  No one is to EAT Wesley.”

Willow turned her head slightly in order to see him, but not enough to lose contact with her sire.  “Not yet.”  She smirked.

“Shhhh Red... we need figure out what you did and how.”

“Told ya, don’t know and don’t care.”  She switched into her gameface and glared at the humans.  “It’s rude, you know.”

Queen C met the demon’s eyes, not backing down.   Willow was duly impressed, but not surprised, considering the nerves of steel the girl had in high school.  That will of hers would not stop her from becoming a delectable treat if the redhead had a mind to drain her, but Willow knew the struggle would be rewarding.

“Put the Grr face away, Wills.  And I know I’ll regret this, but...What’s rude?

“That bleeding.  If you not gonna share, stop the fucking bleeding!”

Having had enough, he tangled his hand in her hair at the base of her neck pulling until she relaxed and submitted, baring her neck, human visage back in place.  He passed up the temptation to bite.  “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Ah, OW!…I…it was a spell.  I remember trying it when I was like them, but it never worked right.  Sometimes the vamps smoked a little...”

He released his hold now that she was talking, but he kept her close.  The humans were both suffering nose bleeds.  He wanted to know why.   He also suspected she was in a quirky, feral mood, maybe a result of using magic, and he did not trust her not to bite.   He watched intently as she straightened up and rotated her head, cracking her neck and gathering her dignity in the process.

“It was pretty funny cuz they would think they were on fire and start flapping around like chickens on crack trying to put it out, and it was all super fast to me then, but then they couldn’t find the flames, but the smoke was still coming off them like the spell was trying to work and I just didn’t have enough juice to pull it off or something, and then they would run away.  Although, this one time, the vamp was so pissed at me that he came running at me, but by then I knew how to float a pretty mean pencil so he went poof anyway... and the look on his face was silly cuz if he’d just run away like a big sissy he’d have...”

“Willow!”  He could not believe that the babbling trait did not get squashed when the demon took over.  “We don’t have fun memories of killing our kind with the slayer, all right?”

She put on her serious, resolve face and saluted him.  “Yes Sire!”    Spike rolled his eyes.

“So you did a spell that you couldn’t really do before, which means your powers have been given a demonic boost,” Wesley added.  “I, for one, am grateful.”

Cordy came up and placed a cold wet wash cloth against the ex-watcher’s wounded neck.  “Yeah, right.  Say thanks to the vampire for not letting a vampire kill you so that another vampire can later.  Only to bring you back as the evil undead.”

He pushed his lips out, forming a grim pout.   “I’m not... They aren’t... Angel.”

The oldest vampire had been watching, keeping an eye on the other fledgling which had been exhibiting great control, due to his recent feeding or fear of Spike, the brunette was not sure.

“Willow, for now no magic... You don’t have control and could have killed the other minion as well.  Spike had plans for them both.  And your magic caused the nose bleeds.”

“Awww... did I hurt you?”  She made to go to them, concerned face masking the desire to taste them.   Not fooled, Spike snatched her back.  “How did Steve get free, luv?”

Huge green eyes gazed up at him, so innocent, creating the perfect disguise for her treacherous demon.   His deceptively calm voice did not fool her either.  She knew that later she would pay for this.   “Well, you remember me asking to play with him?”

“Yeah.  And I thought you would cut him up a bit.  Maybe a few burns for sport. “

“And I was gonna, but then Wes showed up smelling really good, and I had to taste him...”  She cast hungry eyes on Wesley again, but whispered to her sire, her cool breath tickling his ear. “He wants it.  He’s always smelling like he wants it.”   Spike gripped her chin and ravished her mouth.  He and his childe were seriously past due for some alone time.

Angel heard her.  The little vampire was determined to have Spike turn the rouge demon hunter.  He knew that no matter what Spike told him, the blond would try to gift the man to his childe eventually.

His cell phone chirped, demanding his attention.

~~~*~~~

Buffy paced.  It was something she enjoyed and felt she was good at.  She’d been back in her and Willow’s dorm room for an hour.  Just being in the same room, surrounded by all of the reminders of her friend brought fresh tears every few minutes.

<She’s gone!>

So irrevocably gone and nothing would bring her back to them.   She wanted to die inside.  Willow was so sweet and gentle…what was she like as a demon?  On the way back, she’d asked Giles if he could curse her using the spell that Willow had used on Angel their junior year.  He thought that he could pull it off, but at what cost to the girl they brought back.  Angel had been a somewhat callous man, using women, drinking and wasting his family’s money.  His soul, when returned, although devastated by the acts of brutality the demon had convinced him to commit, was deviant enough to reconcile those acts and move on.  Living a life of penance and redemption was his way of dealing this his past sins.  Would Willow, as gentle and caring as she was, be able to ever forgive herself for succumbing to the demon?  He thought she would go insane first and try to kill herself second.

Buffy wanted to disagree and make him curse her, but the truth in his words tore at her and she let it be.    Spike and Willow had been running together for over a month.  According to Professor Walsh, the vampire with Hostile 17, although not as strong,  was just as vicious as the blond, killing her men without hesitation or regret.  Willow would never be able to deal with that.

The picture of her, Xander and Willow sat on her desk, mocking her.  She walked calmly to it and laid it face down, running her finger along the back of the wooden frame.   They had picked wood because it was a potential weapon, laughing at the time about being paranoid since they would never invite a vampire into the room.

A sob came upon her so quickly, nearly choking the blonde and she let out an anguished cry, thick with despair.  Her heart hurt.  The clock said 1:31 in the morning and despite the late hour she needed to talk to her mother.

~~~*~~~

“Joyce?  Um Hi...well I.........uh...........yes, but......... No obviously.......I don’t think that’s a good...yes ma’am.”  He sighed and held the phone out at his childe.  “She wants to talk to you.”

Spike’s eyes widened comically as a panic set in.  “ME?!”  He took a step back.

“Yes, now get on the phone,” he growled.

“NO!”  A slight whine crept into his voice.  “Tell her I’m not here.  Out doing creature of the night stuff and all.”

“Take the phone, William.”  There was no way he was getting back on the phone with Buffy’s mother.

Suppressing a frantic need to run, he snatched the small bit of technology from his chicken shit of a sire.  “You’re supposed to protect me,” he muttered.

Angel only held up his hands as if wanting nothing to do with it as Spike put his ear to the phone.

“'Ello, Joyce.”  His tone was subdued, even reverent.

“Hello Spike.  I’m so incredibly angry at you.”

“Understandable," he conceded.

“You’ve taken something very precious from us.”  He could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know…She’s precious to me as well.”  Truth... he would only give her the truth.  He respected the lady too much for anything else.

“Did you hurt her?  When you…killed her.”

He swallowed.  “No...at first she struggled, but there was something in her that wanted it.  Like she was broken.  She...the bite hurts at first, but it goes away.  No pain.”

Buffy’s comments about Oz picking a terrible time to break up with Willow and skip town came to Joyce’s mind.

“How is she?  Is she still...I don’t know...”

“She’s fine.  She’s a vampire.  She’s mine.  I’ll keep her away from the slayer, from Buffy.  We won’t cause trouble for her.”   He said it before thinking and now had to make good on it.  Betraying a promise to Joyce was something he was not prepared to do.

Cordelia listened in awe.  From what she could hear, Spike, former master vampire of Sunnydale and menace to society in general, was cowering in the face of Mrs. Summers.  The seer always did respect that women, albeit for knowing how to moisturize and accessorize, but respect was respect.  The next time she was in Sunny D she had to pay her a visit.  It had to be more enlightening than spending time with her own mother.

“Is she killing?  Do you have that sweet girl killing?  She wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Well, yeah, it’s what we do.  It’s what she is now.”  Could this be any harder?

“Will you let me talk to her?”

He clenched his jaw, hoping that his childe’s wild mood would not be detectable over the phone.  “Sure, Joyce.  I’ll just put her on.”

He looked to the redhead eyebrow arched.  “Willow...”

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