World Made New

Author: FemailoftheSpecies

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~Part: 21~

Willow had hoped that Spike would be around.  Checking all the places where she had seen him hang out, she was disappointed at every turn. She suspected that Angel had gotten to the blonde before her and had him locked away in that bedroom.  A streak of jealously coursed through her, lightening quick and just as deadly, but she pushed it way.  This was not about her newfound lust for the vampire who once loved her best friend. She only wanted to talk to him about what Giles told her.  Suddenly, the little love bite had more meaning and it frightened her.  Beyond that was the revelation that just touching his mark with her fingers made her tummy clench and juices flow. That needed explaining as well.  She had not mentioned these physiological reactions to Giles, but giggled at the imagined look on his face if she had.

She heard some movement in the kitchen, and soft voices, so she got up and headed there, her bare feet making little noise on the carpet.  Cordelia sat there at the little formica table, looking pale and tired, while Wesley made a plate of food for the brunette.

"Hey guys."

"Hi Wills," Cordelia greeted. Wesley nodded and smiled, motioning to the food in silent offer.  The witched shook her head, but smiled back.

"What happened Cordy?"   Willow  asked, referring to the vision.

"I can't remember it.  When I try, it hurts.  All I know is that I feel like we should leave.  Soon."

"Oh.Wow.Okay.  We have that chatroom meeting tonight."

"Wesley reminded me.  Maybe we should get packed up and ready to go before that.  Just in case?"

Willow glanced at Wesley.  His expression was grim, as it so often was these days, and the redhead wondered what had happened to him.

"Okay, I'll get my stuff loaded up this afternoon.  What about Amy and her not-so-little entourage?"

Cordelia and Wesley exchanged glances.

"What?"  Willow's eyes narrowed.

Wesley just covered his mouth and coughed, inching away from them both until Cordelia caught him by the arm.

"Nuh uh, buster.  You will back me up here."

"What's going on?"  Willow asked again.

"We can't have all these people with us.  They're kids.  If.when trouble comes, we'll only get them killed, Willow."  Cordelia's voice was coated with the soothing tone of logic and compassion and Willow understood her reasoning, but knew remember enough about Cordelia to know that there was more to it.

"And?"  Her eyebrows were high on her forehead.

Cordelia's smile faltered slightly for only a second. "And. we can't feed them and eventually this will become a problem."  The seer was not heartless and thought that finding them a safe place down the road was the best thing for them all.

"I get that, but we can't.  Angel won't, even though I don't think he likes the kids all that much."

"Well Angel's not the boss of me."  She bit her lip, thinking.  "Okay, so he is.or was, when there was something to be the boss about.whatever. this is still a democracy, right?"

Willow did not like this one bit.

"We should vote, like when we wanted to stop here."  Cordelia folded her arms across her chest triumphantly.

Not one bit at all.

~~~*~~~

She came up from her dreams slowly, as if her mind understood that she was fragile and needed the additional care.  At some point, she had concluded that she was awake and took stock of her person.  Her mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.   Or hit her in it. Either were viable choices. She tried to swallow, but it was difficult and she had to work up saliva first.  Slowly her hand came up to her head as she turned to her side, the urge to vomit rising quickly.

The vague memory of magic hangovers plagued her, stripping away her resolve for a moment as she imagined herself at Rack's.   And then the knowledge that Willow killed Rack, that was always hidden deep in the recesses of her mind, surfaced, calming and concerning her in equal measure.

Rack was strong.

Willow was stronger.

These were the new rules to the game and she did not like them, tried to change them not too long ago and lost again, to sweet little Willow.  The voice in her head laughed bitterly at her, mocking, questioning her envious tone.  She quickly told it to shut up since they had more pressing matters to deal with, the most important being her seemingly broken head.

All too swiftly, she attempted to sit up only to fall back to the sofa again as her world began to pulsate and spin.  This time she did throw up.  It was as minimal as her food intake had been recently, but the nasty taste left in her mouth was no less unpleasant.

The retching sound brought the one person she could do without seeing, Willow, running into the room.  Amy has twisted at the waist with her head hanging over the side of the sofa; if this was her bed she certainly did not plan to sleep with her own upchuck.  The redhead glanced around, feeling bad now for not having checked up on the other witch sooner.  She was obviously hurt, perhaps concussed. Wasn't vomiting a sign of a concussion?

"Amy.are you okay?"

The blonde looked up gradually, afraid that moving any faster would have her spinning again.  "What happened?"

Willow looked around, biting her bottom lip before approaching the girl that was once her friend.  "I think Cordelia happened.  And a pot.but it was a small one," she added, hopeful.

She rubbed the back of her head tentatively, wincing when her fingers probed too deeply.

"Cordelia Chase?"  She had not seen the bitchy cheerleader since high school.  Granted, she had been a rat for a lot of their senior year, but since the spell was broken she had learned that the Chase family lost its fortune and the tall brunette had moved to Los Angeles right after high school.  "How did you come across her?"

"Oh, she's been, uh.working for Angel for years.she's a seer for the Powers."

"Huh?  Vapid Cordelia?  And Angel.that was Angel, huh?  I should have been a little more afraid, cuz he has got to be evil if Cordelia works for him."

Willow laughed.  "He's a good guy.  And yeah Cordy, but not so vapid anymore and she's really been a champion for good.well, when she wasn't all demon possessed and killing people."

Amy moved again, wincing as she tried to stand up.  "You people do that a lot, huh?"

Willow only shrugged.  "It was something to pass the time.  Some of us didn't have dates every Friday."   They grinned at each other and for a second there was no ugly past, haunting them with memories of friendships betrayed.

"I gotta tell ya, you surprised us pretty good.."  She watched Amy as she spoke, trying to probe into her mind.  "What are you doing with all these kids?"

"I was running away, like everyone else, and got into a wreck with their bus.  They were on a field trip.  It totaled my car and they gave me a ride.  We got to Half Moon Bay and the demons started attacking.  I was able to protect most of them with my magic, but we've been hiding in the caves since then.  Until I felt you.  You did some powerful spell maybe a week ago.  That's what got us moving.  I wanted to find you.  By myself, they'll die, I'll die."

She spoke without looking at the redhead.  There was something degrading about telling a person that you nearly destroyed, twice, that you now needed her help.  She considered herself a better person now, especially since there were so few people left, but the humility of this situation was overwhelming.

Willow allowed her to have her pride.  Bringing up past transgressions would only make thing more stressful.  It was the last thing either of them needed.

"Well, all is not perfect here, but we're trying."  She did not delve deeper into their internal battles since one of them would surely be about Amy.

"Where are they anyway? The kids?"  That she had not inquired about their safety as soon as she woke did not bother her.  Willow, however, took notice.

"We fed 'em pancakes and milk and put 'em to bed," the redhead replied with a nod.

Amy frowned, noticing the bright sunlight peeking through a crack in the blinds.  "Kinda early?"  Her stomach, now devoid of anything digestible, rumbled.  To her deprived palate, a few pancakes would be a wonderful and welcome change.

Willow shrugged.  "Vampire hours.  You get used to it."  She walked away, convinced that there was no need to tie up the former rat, for now.  "There are a few left.  Pancakes I mean.  We don't throw anything away nowadays, ya know?"

That applied to semi-evil, self-centered witches as well.

~~~*~~~

Angel rolled over, pulling Spike with him, his body pliant and inviting.  If he didn't have a soul, the vampire was certain that he would be screwing the younger demon, even while he slept.  Angelus had used his childer shamelessly.

But the blonde was asleep, deeply, and instead he cherished this time when he could hold his childe without reproach.  There had been a time, long ago, when William was eager to sleep under his sire, a time when nothing separated them but the air between them.  Angel understood that they would not be reliving those days, so much about them both was irreversibly changed, but he longed to be closer to him.  He could never tell him, say the words.  Spike was utterly capable of packing up and taking off in the face of such a confession.

He groaned.  Too many thoughts too early in the day.  Spike caused confusion, always had.  It was easier to ignore him or be angry with him and that was the route Angel took for years.  False declarations of hate for his childe to Buffy, who he thought he loved more than his own life, made things simple.  He did love her, but the idea of her loving him was the thing that kept him hooked.  Her love was his redemption.  Once he sorted out that his redemption lay in his own actions and not in her feelings, he was able to find a balance between his soul and demon.  And he was able to care for Spike without guilt.

Eventually, more sooner than later, Giles and Wesley would be demanding explanations.  Their fear of Angelus was very real and very reasonable.  If the monster ever got out again, Angel was certain that nothing would cage him again.   Willow would be the first thing he destroyed.  So caution was appreciated, but not needed anymore.

He and Angelus had a deal of sorts.

The demon was tired of being locked away, unable to act out on its desires and needs.  Yet as long as the soul allowed the demon more freedom more often, it was content and remained relatively quiet when the soul needed to run the show.  It was a fine line and Angel walked it daily, becoming skilled at maintaining the balance effortlessly.  He actually enjoyed his dalliances into his darker side.  Most of the time it was harmless fun, like scaring the hell out of Spike and Willow earlier.  Although Willow got a little scary herself.

Angel smiled, the tiniest chuckle escaping him.

"Would you go to sleep?"  Spike's deep, sleep-laden voice reached his sire's ears through the pillows under which he was buried.  The brunette just rolled his eyes and remained still.  Any attempt to snuggle closer would make his childe notice that they were entwined in the first place.  "And get off me."

He noticed.

Limbs were untangled and returned to their respective owners.  Spike sat up, wanting a smoke, and stretched.  Angel had been brutal and he still sported bruises and bites.  Everything ached, pleasingly so.

The older vampire watched the blonde as he moved, admiring the marks he left on him.  They had remained visible longer than he expected, but would be gone soon.  Tomorrow promised a fresh canvas of vampiric flesh.

"What?"  Spike was annoyed.  Angel had been staring at him, a dark, unreadable look in his eyes.   His tone brought the vampire from his musings.

"Oh, nothing.sorry."  His eyes slid away, reluctantly, sheepishly.  "I'm going to see Cordelia.  Maybe she's up and can tell us about the vision."

Spike nodded.  "I'm in for a shower and will be there in a bit."  He stepped into the jeans he planned to wear and grabbed a T-shirt.  "You think about what I said?"

"About what?"

"About using these people for blood.  We are protecting them.  It's a small price to pay."

~~~*~~~

Despite what they intended, the vampires ended up in the shower together, where Spike performed an astounding act of fellatio on his sire, bringing him to his knees, gasping and panting.  Therefore, it was about thirty minutes after they left the bedroom that they ended up going through the hole in the wall and joining the living.

Cordelia was listening to a CD, the volume low while she packed.

"Why are you packing?"  Spike asked.

She jumped, screeching and spinning to hit him. "Jeez Spike, don't do that!"

He caught the blow and smirked at her as she struggled to be free of his grasp.  "Why are you packing?"

She sagged, the fight gone out of her, knowing that he could hold on to her like that forever and would, if only to piss her off.  Predictably, as soon as she submitted he lost interest in keeping her trapped, the little sparks of gold leaving his eyes as if a switch was turned off.

"My vision." She was looking more at Angel than Spike, but speaking to them both. "I can't remember it.  It's like something is blocking it and when I try I can feel the major pain coming back.  But it left me feeling like we had to get out of here, this place, soon.  So I'm packing.  Willow is packing.hell we're all packing."

The circles under her eyes were back, not as dark but definitely there, and Angel recalled when she had been dying from the visions.  She looked a like this only worse, more sullen and hopeless.  "Are you okay?" he asked, stepping up close to her and caressing her arm unconsciously.

"Yeah, fine.  We just need to get out of here after the chat thing tonight."  She smiled up at him, her best attempt to convince him that he needed to take action, not pity.

Staring into her eyes, he saw that this was his Cordy, before the demon and higher power and Connor. No duplicity, no deception, things he had overlooked before when he had been distracted by a different apocalypse. "Spike, let's get this done."

~Part: 22~

Sunset this time of year came late in the day.  The heat of the California farmlands rose up from the ground, mirroring that of the sun, making it doubly dry and hot.  It was in this blistering heat that the humans had to load up most of their own belongings. Angel felt guilty for not helping.  Spike, on the other hand, was pleased about it, tired of being used as a packhorse.

It was almost eight.  Willow was already set up in the study lounge and had opened the chatroom, inviting all those she met yesterday who stated they would be willing to attend this group meeting.

She was nervous.

That many of these people might consider her, them all, as some kind of savior, was unnerving and she hoped to dispel any such feelings early on.  According to Angel, they could not find nor save them.  He was adamant about staying the course, whatever that was, and not making any detours.  He did not seem like the Angel she knew at all.  That Angel had been ready to go out of his way help others.  Spike explained that this was not really her Angel, yet more like his Angelus, without the mad bloodlust, but more self-centered and selfish.  He was doing these things to protect the small clan that he considered his.  The rest of the world did not matter in the light of the safety of his family.  Willow found it strange at best, to be considered a member of a vampire's clan, but she thought she could get used to it if it meant staying alive.  So with Angel's stand fixed, the best she hoped to propose was to meet up somewhere and work with whoever showed.

"All set for the rendezvous?"

His voice gave her a thrill that was new and intriguing.   She calmed herself quickly and swung around in her chair to face him.

"Yeah."  Spike looked good and that thought was enough to keep her distracted.  "I.uh.I was.hoping we can get things over and done within an hour.  Cordy's unvisiony vision has me nervous."

He nodded his agreement, smiling at her as he stretched.

The others poured in after the blonde and took seats as close to or as far from the laptop as their individual interests dictated. Amy and the kids had been delegated to wait in the recreation lounge.  It was a matter of trust and she did not have theirs.  Giles stood near the door to ensure no one came close to the room they occupied.  There were people joining the chat periodically and Willow greeted them, advising that they stand by until eight o'clock.  While she did that, she addressed the gang, the new gang.

"We're leaving after this.  At some point, we have to make some decisions.  One being food.  Eventually, it will get scarce.for all of us."  She glanced around pointedly, her meaning clear.  Spike met her gaze, looking hungry already, while Angel saw something of interest on the wall above her head.

"The other is whether we are going to be able to take care of Amy and all those kids without endangering them."  Voices erupted, and she spoke over them to keep their attention.  "WE ARE NOT.we are not deciding anything today.  We'll leave now because we have to and take a few days to think about things."

She turned away from them in favor of her laptop, clearly dismissing the topic for now.  It was eight.

~~~*~~~

There were definite advantages to being a vampire.  Superior strength excluded, the enhanced senses allowed one to detect a wide range of human emotions.  Spike listened to the signals of the people around him, easily picking apart motives and predicting behavior.  When he was a young vampire, he thought it was something in the blood, that he and Drusilla were both afflicted somehow with the sight of sorts, but he later understood it was just a vampire thing and that, if used properly, it gave him a decidedly unfair advantage over his prey.

And use it properly he did.

The new witch was, therefore, an enigma.   She gave off a blank slate and the vampire could not find an emotion, by either scent or senses, much less exploit it.

He had been watching everyone load up the bus.  It was dark now, and while enjoying a smoke, he patrolled the immediate area.  Willow had decided that it would be better to transfer some of the food from the motor home to the bus so that Amy and crew could eat at their leisure without having to make stops.  Therefore, at the redhead's request, he had carried over a box of canned goods, a few gallons of water and the left over milk.  She also gave them an ice chest.

"So you and Red go way back, yeah?"  Spike asked Amy, sauntering up next to her.

She gave him a frank stare, assessing him just as he had assessed her.  She must have found him adequate, because she relaxed and smiled slightly.  "Yeah.  We've been through a lot together.not all good, but not all bad either."

"Right."  He nodded, taking a drag from the cigarette.

Amy's thoughts were centered on the vampire.  This was Spike, William the mutha fuckin' Bloody, standing next to her making idle chitchat.  She felt like she was with a rock star and should be asking for an autograph.  It was odd and funny at the same time and when she erupted into a giggle, she thought his startled look was because of her.

Spike heard the girl laugh, but had something else on his mind.  Something was out there.  He walked toward the motor home and saw Angel, who was looking around as if something was touching him and began running.   Blue eyes met brown in understanding, and there was no more time for lollygagging.

Spike spun on his heel and began giving orders quietly.

"Get them all on the bus.now."  He looked to Kyle.  "Are you driving?"  The boy nodded, but remained otherwise silent and attentive.  "Good.stay between the home and the van and be alert.  If I slow, you slow, got it?"  Another nod and Spike was gone.

He trotted to the van where Giles and Wesley were waiting.  "Angel's driving."  He snatched Giles by the arm. "You come with us."

Giles wanted to protest being manhandled by the blonde, but everything was moving past him so quickly that he could not catch his breath before he was shoved into the motor home and released.

"Spike, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he asked as he picked himself up from the floor.

The vampire was already in the driver's seat.  "Something's coming.  We need to go now," was all he offered as explanation.  "Get the map from Red and sit the fuck down."

He put it in gear and got moving.  Through the side view mirrors, he confirmed that the bus and van were behind him before leaving the parking lot and hitting the deserted streets.

Giles carefully maneuvered the aisle and made his way to Willow and Cordelia.  "What's happened?"

Willow only shrugged, looking worried.  "I don't know.  One second we were talking to Angel and the next he barked at us to get in."  She shared a glance with the seer.

"Do you think it's what you saw in your vision?" he asked, picking up the map.

"I think it may be, but I can't remember.  What's  with the Powers anyway, sending me stupid visions and then not letting me see them?"  Rubbing her temples, she growled in frustration.

Giles turned to leave and return to help Spike, halting as something obvious, but overlooked, occurred to him.  "I suspect it's not the Powers That Be who are blocking your vision at all."

He had not reached his seat when he heard the other Brit cursing as they came to a screeching stop.  The watcher found himself, once again, sprawled on the floor.

"Spike!"

"Yeah, Rupert, get a look at this."

Struggling to his feet, his almost healed injury flaring with pain again, he stared through the windshield into the darkness.  There was a small car blocking the way, its headlights competing with the motor home's and losing.  The girls came walking up behind him, trying to see as well.

The car door opened and someone stepped out, work boots hitting the ground heavily.

A gasp escaped Giles and he stumbled to the door, opening it and hopping out.

"Ethan.what are you doing here?"  His voice was hard and uninviting.

The rogue warlock stepped closer.  "Hello, Ripper."  Giles noticed a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, making him glow in the rising moonlight.

"I'll not ask you again.what are you doing here?"

"The world has come to its end," he motioned with his arms stretched out, "and even I find it more chaotic than what can be considered amusing."

"There was never a limit to your depravity, Ethan."

Ethan's eyes drifted over Giles' form, taking him in.  When he reached his eyes he spoke.  "No, Rupert, there wasn't.  You, of all people, are well aware of how.depraved my world is."

Giles shifted uncomfortably.  Wesley was walking toward them, evidently sent by Angel to find out why they had stopped before they barely started.  "What do you want?"

"For now, refuge.Don't you feel it?  Something is out there, Rupert, and not even I can hold it at bay much longer."

~~~*~~~

"He's not getting in this vehicle.none of them," Giles spat, arms crossed.  "He...he turned me into a demon."

Willow and Wesley had been trying to convince the watcher to give in while Angel, Spike and Cordelia watched amused, but not very concerned.  At one point Willow nearly suggested he be allowed on the bus with Amy, but immediately discarded the idea.  Both Ethan and Amy were dangerous enough on their own, combining them with no supervision would prove detrimental.

"Giles, we can't leave him here.  Whatever's out there is going to break through the hold he has on it.  What's to stop it from coming after us when it gets done with him?  We can use his help."

"His help? His help?!"  He was starting to yell again and hushed himself quickly.  "His help will most likely take the form of killing all of us to save his own manipulative arse."

"And you think I don't get that.  We'll have to watch him," she whispered, "but we're not, I repeat, not leaving him behind."

Giles sighed, defeated in the face of her resolve.  "Fine, but you better be prepared.  Your good heart will get you and us into more trouble than you can imagine, Willow."

She nodded, listening, but also amazed that he did not think that she understood big trouble and how to handle it.

Giles walked over to Ethan, much too deeply into his personal space, and whispered, "You have a reprieve.for now.   Fuck up, in any way, and I toss you out of the window while we're moving."

The mage shoved the larger man off him, straightening his clothes.  "Aren't you being rather presumptuous, Ripper?  You don't get to fondle the merchandise anymore.  You gave that delightful privilege up a while back, old man."

~Part: 23~

Spike's attention was split between the road in front of him and the pair talking quietly in the kitchen area of the RV.  Willow, ever the considerate girl, came up front to sit with him and help navigate.  He was growing proficient at deciphering which of her snores meant left or right.  Cordelia had retreated to the bedroom in the rear, clearly not impressed with the presence of the newest addition to their little quest.

Giles was animated, upset about Ethan Rayne's unexpected arrival.  That was typical of him to hold a grudge.  He remembered what the man had done to him over three years ago so he couldn't say he blamed him, but it was still so very like the man.  A smile came unbidden to his lips when he let those memories of the watcher in demon's skin come to mind.  Those were good times.

Nothing in the watcher's quiet ranting was out of the ordinary.  He was prone to lecturing angrily when he thought he had been wronged.  It was the faint scent of arousal that raised Spike's eyebrow, and ever since he detected it he had been trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, but was sadly disappointed by the interfering roar of the large engine.

Hence he was bored.

Glancing over at Willow, he became envious of her ability to sleep through just about everything.  It was a human thing he concluded.  He had noticed this trait while living with so many of them these past months.  They were nearly comatose when they slept, undisturbed by the presence of friend or foe alike, while vampires tended to wake at the slightest scent or sound that didn't belong.  He was sure he liked his deal better.

Still, jealously crept in and he nudged her.

"Wake up, Red."

She was strapped into the seat by its belt, but the back was fully reclined.  Her response was to twist until she was on her side, but her heart rate remained steady and slow.  Blessedly, the snoring stopped.  He was almost grateful enough for the new quiet to leave her be and try his ear at eavesdropping again, but no, if he was going to be awake, then so was she.

"Red," he shook her a little.  "Wake up."

Sleepy green eyes parted, dazed at first, but focusing sharply upon seeing him staring at her.  The significant increase in her heartbeat, teamed with a hint of fear, put a lazy smile on his face.  He still enjoyed that.

"Thought you were my Gilligan."

She sat up, pressing the lever that brought the seat back to an upright position.  "Hey, yeah, I'm all over it," she agreed as she rubbed her eyes.  The map was on the floor where it landed when she nodded off and she leaned over to get it.

"What's the deal with Rupert and that sorcerer?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder for a second.  They were still huddled and mumbling.  Spike was now able to make out a few words here and there, but nothing coherent.

"Oh.Giles hates Ethan.  They were friends way back in the day and did all this weird demon raising magick, and..."

He tuned out the rest of her explanation, seriously doubting that she had any revelatory information.  Spike understood the kind of energy needed to perform such spells and now understood their...relationship.  The watcher would not have shared that with his young charges.

She saw a sign and stopped her babbling with a squeal.  "Ooooh Reno, Spike!  I always wanted to come here, or Las Vegas."  She bounced in the chair.  "Do you think we can stop?"

Spike eyed her curiously.  Was the girl a closet gambler as well?  It was quite possible considering her other patterns of behavior.  She didn't exactly not have an addictive personality.  He filed that away for further exploration later.

"No, Willow.  The town is probably crawling with demons laying in wait.  You do remember the people you promised to meet?"

Frowning, she nodded and went quiet.

When the chatroom meeting began, she had been excited.  There were eleven participants in all, up seven from the previous night, and she had been encouraged by that.  More importantly, one group of four people was currently headed for Salt Lake City, which, according to the map, was on the way to the safe house.  With a lot of pleading and a little bit of threatening she managed to talk Angel into agreeing to meet with them.  He was still pretty adamant about going on alone to Butte, where the council safe house was located.  She had no real choice but to defer to his judgment about this since no one was willing to take a chance on strangers.

Leaning into the window, she checked the sideview mirror and squinted from the headlights of the bus.  She knew that despite everything Amy had done to her and that she had done to herself, the young witch did not deserve to be abandoned.   She sighed and let her head come to a rest on the glass.   A decision about them was coming up and the current consensus was leaning towards banishment from the little kingdom.  So many people to fight for.

She would have to choose her battles wisely.

~~~*~~~

They had been driving for hours.  The highway to the north was considerably less crowded with debris than those south of them.  These people either never found the need to leave or were already long gone before the demons arrived.

Either way, nearly everyone was dead or gone and they had better driving conditions.

Wesley had been watching Angel.  Not overtly, but as a man watched another in the lavatory, slyly and with the explicit intention of not being caught.

"Willow's desire to meet these people," he started seemingly out of the blue.  "I'm surprised you went along with it, Angel.  You were determined."

Angel never glanced his way, but kept his eyes on the rear of the bus in front of them.  "Willow's stubborn.  It's better to give in to her a little now and shut it down later when she wants to bring them with us.  She'll feel like there was a compromise, and we won't have more people to feed."

Wesley frowned.  "Is that what we are? Just more mouths to feed?"

"What?  No!"  Angel glanced at him quickly.  "I'm talking about people we don't know.  You, you guys are more like family," Angel corrected, hoping the man would understand.

"Family...like Spike."

His grip on the wheel tightened.  "Wes...if you have something you want to say, just say it."

"Well it seems you two are growing...closer.  I was under the impression that your history was such that you could barely manage civility towards one another."

Angel sighed, truly neither prepared nor pleased to have this conversation.  The man next to Angel knew him too well for the standard cryptic bullshit responses.  He would dig and prod until Angel cracked like an egg and spilled his guts for the human to scramble into a delicious information-filled omelet.  The analogy made him dizzy, just thinking of being scrambled about.   "Under normal conditions, I was willing to allow Spike the illusion of his hatred and independence.  He was always one command away from me."

The ex-watcher digested that information, taking in what was said as well was what was left unsaid.  Still his curiosity ruled him.  "Are you saying you never hated him, nor he you?  Angel how can you make such an assumption, considering how he nearly killed you for the Gem..."

"You ever ask yourself why Spike didn't do it himself?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"For the gem...Spike hired another vampire to do it. He barely touched me."

"Nevertheless, it was his intention..."

"Aw Wes, come on.  I took his toy.  I was always taking his toys, either as Angelus or as Angel and he was angry and wanted it back.  I probably should have just given it to him.  His plans never included ending the world.  That was more Drusilla's thing."

He conveniently neglected to mention his own attempt at sending everyone to Hell.

"Are you and he...have you reaffirmed your bond as family?"

Angel glanced at him.  By the set of Wesley's jaw he was angry as if he had a right to be.  Something in that, in Wesley's and everyone's attitude toward his vampiric family bothered Angel.  He knew that Spike had done some pretty awful things, but the blonde had also helped save them,  before he got a soul, on several occasions, even betraying him to do it.  Albeit, he had differing motivations, but the result was the same.  Spike had always been willing to see reason and work with an enemy for a mutually beneficial result

"And if we have?" he asked, not bothering to keep his own annoyance hidden.

Wesley straightened and managed to look more relaxed at the same time.  "I worry about you, Angel.  Your soul."  Despite everything, he was not so sure that the younger vampire was incapable of bringing Angel one moment of true happiness.

"My soul is not in danger."  He laughed bitterly.  "Spike has his charms, but he also has his sights on another."  That was not the only reason, but he was not in the mood to have a philosophical discussion about his soul tonight.

"Ah...Willow."  He found that entire dynamic frightening.  "Do you think that is wise?  Those two?"

"I think that the more I try to get between them, the more they are determined to be together.  Spike might get bored after a while.  That's always been his M.O."

"Then there was Drusilla," Wesley tossed in, then immediately regretted the pained look on Angel's face.  "I'm sorry."

"No..." He shook his head.  "It's okay...He loves Drusilla, still.  Her final death won't change that.  They were eternal because they were eternal.  Willow's human.  It won't last because she won't."

"And he won't turn her?"

Angel thought for a moment.  Spike was not beyond turning her.  Angel was sure of it, but he was also certain that Willow did not want that and Spike would never go against her wishes.

"No."

Wesley let it drop and Angel sighed gratefully.  Neither, it seemed, were up for a long, drawn-out debate on the merits and mischiefs of Spike.

"Dawn is coming soon.  We should find a place to stop."

Wesley nodded and picked up the cell phone.

~~~*~~~

Willow hung up and went over the map.  There was a rest stop about ten miles up so they exited there and parked the RV parallel to the bus on the other side of the bank of buildings that housed bathrooms, showers, a small visitors' center with a large map of Nevada and a vending machine area.   This kept them hidden from any vehicle that might pass on the highway, although they had not come across anyone on the road so far and had only seen one car going in the opposite direction since leaving California.

Cordelia woke up and checked the vending machines, but they were empty, while Willow went to see Amy.

She boarded the bus, being careful to be quiet.  Most of the children were still asleep.  Amy gave her a small smile and waited for Willow to tell her the reason for this visit.

"Hey..." the redhead started, taking a seat across from the other witch.  "We're gonna stop for a few hours.  Wesley will be putting up a ward around all three vehicles so make sure the kids stay inside.  Do you guys need anything?"

"No we're good, I think."  She looked away from Willow, unsure of what else to say.

"What are your plans, Amy?"

"Plans?"

"I mean, you have this, like, clan of people and, yeah, you found us, but what did you want out of finding us?"

Amy just stared at her.  "Are you telling me I have to go?"

"What?  No!  I'm..."  She stammered, then took a deep breath to calm down.  "I'm just wondering what you want to do."

The blonde stood up.  "Are the wards up yet?"  Willow shook her head.  "Let's walk?"

They exited the bus and walked over to a picnic bench.  The night sky showed no sign of its impending end, but Willow knew it was close to dawn.  Years of living around and fighting vampires made you very aware of such things.

Willow sat on the table and put her feet on the bench itself.  "What's up?"

Amy looked troubled.  She glanced anxiously at the bus before starting.  "I've never been real good at being responsible.  And now, just like that," she slapped the back of one hand into the other, "I've got all these kids.  And they need me.  No one has ever needed me before, Willow.  And it's scary...and wonderful, but mostly scary, so when I felt you out there I thought: my goddess, someone to help me."  She laughed.

Willow frowned slightly.  "I'm sorry, Amy."

"Ha!  Don't be," Amy told her, wiping away a tear.  "I was hoping to saddle you with them all and skip out.  But considering what's out there, that may not be the wisest choice."  She smiled, unapologetic about what she was thinking and planning.  She was who she was and no little old apocalypse was going to change that.

~~~*~~~

Giles decided that he and Ethan should sleep in the van, since neither need protection from the sun and they needed to get a few more things aired away from prying ears and eyes.

Willow was grateful.  The tension was thick between those two, charging the air with a burnt scented energy that had her magicks tingling.

Spike and Cordy were making breakfast, or more to the truth, Cordy was scrambling eggs and Spike was munching on toast, watching and talking and laughing as if they were friends.

She grimaced, wondering why her thoughts had turned slightly dark.  It was just conversation of the ordinary variety.  Glancing at Spike, she found that his eyes were on her.  He winked and continued chatting with the brunette, leaving Willow feeling more confused than ever.

"You have to stop eating the food, Spike.  It's not like you even need it.  Go get some blood," the seer ordered, trying to stretch 4 eggs into a meal for three people.

"Blood right here," he whispered, running a finger along her neck.

"Not...blood in there."  She slapped his hand away and pointed to the ice chest.  He laughed and began preparing his breakfast, snagging another piece of toast and ducking another swat from an angry Cordelia.

He glanced up into the loft.  Angel was asleep and he figured Wesley would tottle off to bed as soon as his belly was full.  Spike wasn't ready for sleep yet.  He was too keyed up to be still and quiet.  He got his warmed blood from the tiny microwave and walked over to the couch, sitting next to Willow.

"I'm going to shower after Wesley comes out, then go to the bedroom in the back.  Join me after he goes to sleep."  He gave her a feather light kiss on the lips before adding, "And bring the seer, luv."

~Part: 24~

He found himself watching the other man's mouth, intrigued by the curving hint of a smile as he spoke of times gone by.  His lips weren't what one would call full or pouty, but he remembered them as luscious just the same.

"...and we used Liv's unmentionables for the spell," he finished with a hearty laugh that Giles joined in easily.

Not that he wanted to.  No, the watcher was still very angry and disappointed in Ethan.  Chaos was truly dangerous and to have worshipped at its throne for all these years certainly took its toll on his old friend's soul.

But the memories were good ones and he was hard pressed to stop the magician from the telling.

"Oh, right and her brother thought you and she had shagged so he tried to beat the stuffing out of you," Giles added, warming to the feelings the past invoked.

"Actually, he was jealous and tried to bugger me in the loo, Rupert, but ended up with his head in the commode, courtesy of a minor spell."

"Beat the stuffing, shag the stuffing," Giles shrugged slightly and trailed off with a sigh.  Interesting that he found pleasure in speaking with his lover turned nemesis.  His life had taken an odd twist and he was helpless not to explore the new road laid out before him. "What happened to you, Ethan?"

"Chaos happened, Ripper.  I am what I've always been."  He said this as if it explained the meaning of life.

 "No, I understand that.  I was there...helping cultivate that in you.  I am referring to when you were escorted to that secured facility in Colorado."  He had always wondered, but  Riley Finn only told him that he was being detained, pending trial.  Giles somehow doubted that the young soldier knew anything more than that.  He had been jaded by then, and not to be trusted by his fellow Initiative agents.

"Ah...my wonderful days as a guest of the Initiative."  He got up from the passenger seat and walked, stooped over, to the back where their sleeping bags had been rolled out and were waiting.  He removed his shoes and sat down, pulling his holdall to his lap.

"Did you know those pillocks were demon hunters?"

Giles nodded and took off his glasses, but he remained in the driver's seat, only twisting around to see the other man.

"Funny that.  They had more than a passing interest in my magicks despite my being human.  Mostly."  He smiled smugly and went about undressing.

A strange tightening in Giles' chest accompanied that revelation.  "Were you hurt?"

Ethan gave him a sly grin.  "No more than I wished to be, old man."  But it was clear to them both that neither wanted to delve deeper into this subject.  Some things were best undiscussed.

Giles was stunned by his need to feel guilty.  It was a perversion of what he considered his righteous anger.  He had been positively consumed by a intimate fury at the mage and wanted noting more than for him to serve a nice little jail sentence, unable to harm others for a while; perhaps even repenting.  That the agency would have dome something other than hold him over for trial never really occurred to the man.  Frankly, he had forgotten about Ethan, only thinking of him periodically for brief moments when he allowed himself to acknowledge that he had a past.  That past brought back longings he had not been ready to face.  Mostly, it had proven better that he not think of Ethan at all.

For Ethan, it had been a betrayal when Ripper turned him over to the authorities with nary a care for what followed. But it was not unexpected.  Rupert was never above being vindictive or petty.   Yet he knew that the watcher did not leave him in the care of those barbarians, not intentionally.  So he was beyond being bitter or needing affirmations and apologies.  He just focused on the fact that he made it out.  If he hadn't been as powerful as he was and in full control, well as much control as one can have over something as wild and discordant as chaos, then those idiots would have successfully picked him apart to see how he ticked.   But he had made his getaway soon after arrival, once he saw the goings on there.

"How is it I find you in the company of not one, but two vampires?"

Giles flashed him a rare grin, one that stirred the other man's insides, and moved to the back of the van to sit on his sleeping bag.

"It's a long story.  Fortunately we have several hours to while away."

~~~*~~~

"And bring the seer, luv," Spike said then rose from the couch.

The door to the small bathroom opened to reveal one soggy, but refreshed ex-watcher.  Wesley immerged wearing his bed clothes and feeling silly about it since it was about seven in the morning.  His musings about how his life had taken such turns that he now kept vampire hours was disrupted by Spike grunting at him in passing.  The vampire slipped inside the bathroom, all grace and confidence, locking the door behind him.

Willow was left behind, frowning and gaping simultaneously.   She just knew that Spike had dropped that little bomb and timed his exit perfectly.

"Mmm, they smell marvelous."  Wes was standing to the left of the stove, while Cordelia scrambled the eggs, and hadn't realized that he was hungry until a pang reared its ugly head.  She smiled at the compliment.

"We have toast too...or what I managed to keep Spike from scarfing down.  That vamp has issues.  He eats.  Really eats.  Why? Angel doesn't eat."

"Yes, Spike does seem to be a bit different than Angel."  Taking a bite of toast, he put a pot of water on the only remaining eye available on the small stove.  He declined to say more because he could not be certain that Spike's difference was due to Spike being odd or if Angel was the odd one.  An underlying suspicion that it was both on varying levels nagged at him.  Mentally shrugging it off, he began prepping for tea, a ritual that was even more important now that things were so very strange.  As he got out the mugs that he and Willow had acquired at the Walmart, he recalled that day.  It seemed ages ago now, but was only perhaps two weeks.

"I don't want any, but thanks."  Cordelia assumed the tea was for her, and Wesley smiled, not wanting to embarrass his friend.  He was in a subdued mood and fighting with Cordelia, while stimulating, could wait until he was in better spirits.

"A shame.  Perhaps I should take a cup over to Giles and his associate."

Cordelia gave him a pointed stare.  "Associate?  Hello? Those two generate enough heat to keep us all warm for the winter.  I mean, did you see the way Giles' nostrils were flaring?"  She stuffed a piece of toast in her mouth, while shoveling eggs onto her plate.  "It was disgusting."

Wesley shook his head, not wanting to reveal any of his colleague's business while Cordelia was nodding hers and chewing.  "It's a sure sign that they've done the horizontal mambo."

Willow gasped and came over to the kitchen area, Spike's little command forgotten for the moment.

 "You can't mean...Giles and Ethan?  Because Eew.  I mean, they're old and British...Oh, maybe it's because they're British," she suggested excitedly and turned to Wesley, "Do you, um, like other British men, you know, like that?  Because it's okay if you do, because, hey, gay, Jewish Wiccan here, but, I mean there, was Olivia and, Buffy said they were having, um, sex, and that brought so many bad images..."

Wesley stopped her.  "I think that Cordelia's imagination is overactive, Willow.  But even so, it's truly not our place to judge.  Nor to gossip," he added firmly.  This conversation had to end....soon.  The poor little redhead seemed to be on the edge of hyperventilating.

Cordelia just squinted her eyes at him, knowing that she was right.  That man didn't even give her a second glance when talking to Giles.  He was so very evidently not into women.

~~~*~~~

Wesley ate his eggs and toast quickly, took two cups over to the van for Ethan and Giles, and then came back, eager for sleep.  It was only a matter of minutes before he was snoring.

The dishes were left for Willow to wash since Cordelia had so graciously cooked.  Spike had come out of the bathroom and quietly slipped into the back while Wesley made the tea delivery.  Now the bathroom was occupied by the brunette and soon Willow would find out exactly why Spike wanted her to join them.

Vaguely, the idea of having sex with her old friend was creepy, but exciting.  It was not a direction in which she allowed her mind to drift.  Cordelia was a very attractive girl, but Willow had never thought of her in that way.  And she also knew that Cordelia Chase was not interested in women...or Spike.

The shower stopped, startling her, and she rushed to the bedroom, wanting a chance to speak to him alone.  He was sitting on the bed, Indian-style, a piece of paper with a plastic baggie rested in the area in front of him, but she hardly notice it as she organized her thoughts and prepared her assault.

He glanced up and seeing her alone, frowned, cute little wrinkles forming between his eyebrows.   "Where's the seer, luv?"

"See, that's what we need to talk about."  She moved into the room and sat tentatively on the bed, smoothing the covers with her hand to gather her focus, not sure why she was nervous.

He looked at her quizzically and she continued, truly miffed that he was so insensitive as to need this little chat at all.

"What are you doing, telling me to bring her to bed with us?  She's my friend and I thought we, well I don't know what I thought, but it really didn't include an orgy with my old high school nemesis."

Spike's face melted into a silly grin.  That she was jealous delighted him to no end.  "Technically, an orgy is more than three, Red." Willow narrowed her eyes.  "So is she coming, then?"

"Ohhhh you!"  She dove on him, hitting him on the head lightly but over and over while he tried to duck and dodge her semi-playful blows.  The door slid open, but neither noticed.

"Oh noooo," Cordelia griped at having an unwanted guest of the dead kind in what she considered her bedroom.  "Out.  Now!"  She pointed toward the front of the motorhome.

"Been a change in the sleeping arrangements, pet."  He favored her with an eerie gaze that was dreamlike and inviting as he patted the mattress.  "Why don't you sit down and we can talk about it?"

To Willow's surprise Cordy flopped onto the bed, making it bounce.  "Oh, you bet we're gonna discuss it, Mister."

"Red, close the door.  Wouldn't wanna disturb Peaches or the Watcher."

She complied, more out of curiosity than anything else.

He lifted the baggie and dangled it in front of his face with gleeful smile.  "We've got a day filled with fun and adventure, ladies.  Hopefully, Peaches and the ponce would stay out long enough for us to enjoy the high."

Willow wore a look of practiced appall while Cordelia looked interested.

"Shrooms children, and high quality stuff.  No bad trips here."  He had done enough in his druggy demon days to know.

"Oh my God!"  Cordelia whispered harshly. "Where'd you get this?"  She snatched the bag from him and examined the contents and Willow felt her potential ally in her stand against actually taking the drugs slip away.  "Is it safe?"

Willow's ears perked up at that.   Despite her silent protest, she knew that she was going to do this and wanted to know the risks.  Her standard reason did not apply.  It was not illegal anymore and Spike would never let anything happen to her or Cordelia.

Spike noticed Willow's capitulation, nearly felt it, and grinned at them both.  "You'll be safe as houses, pet."   He took the baggie from the brunette and handed each of them a little less than what he had already measured out as a 1gram dose, which was enough for a nice high for a human girl.  A silly smile still graced his features.  Boring days were over for him.  The world was his oyster again.  He wanted pearls.

"Let's go down the rabbit hole."

One got the reference and one did not, but it was no matter as they both followed his lead and ate the dried brown fungi.  Willow made a face while chewing and Spike laughed at her, which only stiffened her resolve to get it down.

"How long does it take this stuff to work?" asked the ex-cheerleader.

Spike stretched, his muscles rippling nicely as the girls watched, not as covertly as either believed.  "Twenty, thirty minutes tops."  He glanced at them.  "First time for both of you, I'd wager."

They nodded and he prepared himself for the babysitting job if needed.  Since they were newbies, he intended to keep the conversation light and pleasant.  Bad energy could lead to a bad trip. Normally, that kind of thing would be just what he was after to spice the blood with a fear so different from the kind he normally produced; it made the prey taste like cinnamon and curry.  But the soul, and the fact that Angel would have a serious chat with him, provided him with enough restraint to do the right thing and take care of the humans.

"Let's play a game," he suggested.

Willow nodded and looked around with a frown.  "Do we have any games?  I didn't get games?"

She was ready to go off into a rambling recount of her shopping spree when Spike interrupted.  "No matter, we'll play the one where you answer the questions or do a stunt."

"You mean Truth or Dare," Cordy chimed in.  "And I'm in.  I can't believe how incredibly boring it is riding around in this thing for hours.  Plus I want the scoop on some stuff so this is perfect."

Willow swallowed and cringed a bit as she muttered a shaky, "Okay.  Who's first?"

Nobody could decide so they played Rock-Paper-Scissors.  Cordelia won.  She flashed a bright smiling, showing off her huge teeth.  Spike thought they'd be excellent for tearing out throats, but kept that to himself and chastised his demon.

"Hmmm, let's see," she tapped her chin with a finger while pretending to decide who to ask what first.  "Willow."  As if the redhead had not seen that coming.

"Truth."  She replied before Cordy could give her a choice.

"Is that your natural hair color?"

Willow sighed, relieved at the subject.

"Yeah, but I use a clear henna."

Cordy frowned.  She had been so sure that Willow dyed it.  It was now Willow's turn.

"Spike, truth or dare?"

"Truth."  He wondered what the little human would ask.

"What was your real name, when you were alive?"

He blinked as they humans leaned in close, waiting.  "Can I take the dare then?"

They both laughed and nodded.   But Willow was smarter than him.  "I dare you to tell us what your real name was when you where alive."

"Bugger," he sighed.  It was all for affect as he had every intention of lying. "Carrington.  William Carrington."   They both squealed, bouncing on the bed.  The jiggling of Cordelia's breasts caught his eye he ogled them openly.

"Hey!"  Cordy wasn't surprised that he was staring at her goods, but right in front of Willow?

His eyes reluctantly met the seers, breaking the trance, and he broke into a lazy smile.  "My turn then, yeah?"

Both nodded slowly, suddenly not so sure this was a good idea.  Willow remembered that this game, and the mushrooms, were actually Spike's idea and became very certain this was a bad thing.

"Right.  Cordelia, truth or dare, pet?"

"Dare."

Spike smiled, expecting that from her.  She was ballsy and had no problem taking on a challenge.  He liked that about her.  Plus she had an amazing set of tits and he wanted to see more of them.  He blinked at that thought, wondering about the effectiveness of his soul, and felt the world grow brighter as the mushrooms started to kick in for him.  He blinked again and Willow was speaking.

"...to give her a dare?"

He focused on the brunette and grinned.  "Yeah, luv."  His mind was swirling with ideas, all of them bad, so he tried to pick the least offensive, but most telling one.  "You must watch Red and me kiss.  No looking away, no closing those pretty brown eyes of yours."

The leap in heart rates and the rise in pheromones told him all he needed to know.

~Part: 25~

Cordelia was the first to respond.

"Look here, bleach boy, I'm not watching you, Willow or anyone else suck face. Pick another dare or forfeit your turn."

Internally Willow was doing flips, raising pompoms and cheering Cordy on. Spike was such a deviant sometimes.

"You choose dare, I pick dare, you do dare. Those are the rules," he replied stubbornly, more than a little petulant.

She crossed her arms and looked to the redhead, raising an eyebrow. "Do something about him. He's your...boyfriend or whatever."

"We are so not kissing in front of anyone. So drop it and pick something else."

He glared at them both, hoping the look was impressive enough to change at least one mind before crumbling into a whine.

"Oh come on! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Gone out the window with my sense of humor," Willow retorted. "Not gonna happen."

"Fine,' he sighed, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. They needed to know he was put out and annoyed by it. "Go find the watcher's toothbrush and use it to clean a toilet."

They both gasped and eeewed, swearing refusal.

He lunged for Willow, grabbing her quickly, and as she squealed he plundered her mouth while she struggled against him. A knee to his groin halted his actions but he was in no way incapacitated. He pulled back smiling innocently, a direct contradiction to her glowering stare.

But a glance to the right revealed that the seer had left the room and was in search of Wesley's toothbrush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rooms were full of smells. Mostly human, which was good, but a few demons as well...vampires, and that was bad, but nothing that would stand in his way. He was confident that his associates could handle a few half-breed blood suckers.

He kicked a bag of garbage that been left behind and sifted through the contents. It only availed him more scents, unpleasant and rotting odors belonging to old food.

They had been close behind, no doubt, perhaps missing their prey by an hour. He cursed under is breath and considered the sorcerer. Obviously powerful enough to erect a wall of air around them too thick to penetrate. He should never have tried to engage him. Stuck as they were, they had no choice but to wait until the spell dissipated.

He stood and turned to the others who were performing similar tasks, looking for clues as to where the little band had skittered off.

"We're wasting time," the Grorox announced. Others stopped what they were doing and gave him their attention. Apparently he was the leader, but such things were never certain, or permanent, in their species. The swing of the blade was a definite catalyst for a change in regime. And almost always it came from within. Today Milhan had shown weakness, losing the quarry, and would have to watch the others. As expected, they would continue to follow his lead without question, but one had already started the machinations, just as Milhan had plotted the demise of their previous, and now dead, chief.

They filed out of the apartment. It was not a strategic move, it was just that their mass was too large for more than one to exit at a time. Others, coming from the apartment where children had obviously stayed, met up with Milhan in the hall.

"They had no choice but to go north from here. So we go north and send out the Feelers."

Agreement allowed him to hope.

Once outside, the hideous darkness enveloped them, masking their own deep blue scaly skin until they blended nicely with the nothingness. Milhan walked over to a small cage and peeked inside.

The creatures inside had the general appearance of birds, beak and feather, but that was where the similarities ended and the nightmare began. Great long talons, steel in appearance, were looped around a magical cord, keeping the creatures bound to the post inside the cage. The beak itself was jagged with spiny scales and razor like, while the feathers were made of a thin, flexible metal, not unlike aluminum, also sharp and deadly to the touch.

Despite their appearance, the feelers were not aggressive by nature and their mission was one of reconnaissance. Anyone obstructing that objective was likely to lose a part.

He opened the cage and pulled on the cord to release them. They flew out impatiently, soaring through the air for a few moments before returning to hover overhead, waiting. A few items, mostly sheets, were offered and the Feelers took in the scent of the hunted before taking to flight with high pitched squawks that echoed into the night.

The birds would separate when needed and once they spotted the prey, they would return and lead the Grorox straight to the hunted ones.

And a lovely feast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia was laid out across the bed, giggling softly while Spike's lips brushed her bare belly. His dare had been to recite one of his poems. Willow didn't specify how so he had pulled Cordelia to him and spoke the words, the last one he'd ever written while alive. He started with her ear, letting his tongue sneak out to explore her taste once he was sure she was under his spell.

And the pounding of both hearts was deafening, forcing him to keep the demon in him at bay while he played this game. For him it was a delicious torture, heightened by effects of the drugs. Everything was louder, brighter, as if posing in the sun, and sweeter. He itched to taste her, drop his fangs and scrap her flesh until the blood welled up for him. He wanted to bury himself in Willow, in all ways, and reap her essence as well.

Dizzy and pleased with the game so far, Spike glanced at the redhead, while Cordy continued to laugh and gasp even though he had stopped for the moment. Willow was watching avidly, licking her lips periodically as they dried from her open-mouthed breathing. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils huge, smile lazy and luscious.

"Can I taste her, luv?" he asked, his voice deep and rich.

She tilted her head, having her own trip with melting colors and jumbled sounds, hearing something entirely different, and nodded. It didn't matter, as she would have said yes to anything he asked. Coming closer, she touched his forehead with a delicate hand and he changed faces.

The brunette heard him growl and glanced at him, leaning up on her elbows. Her own eyes locked with the demon and she grinned. "You look like a cat. Gonna be my kitten, Spike?"

Crawling up her body, he pulled her shirt open enough to expose the swell of her breast. Colors were bleeding and he wanted her to bleed as well.

"I'll be your kitten, luv. Gonna make me purr?" His head dipped down and he placed kisses on the soft flesh before slicing in and slipping into a kaleidoscope of flavors and smells, her complication. And her hands curled into his hair as her world spun quickly, leaving her giddy and breathless and free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For years, centuries, the smell of fresh human blood meant two things: Food and fun. Angel spent a good deal of his waking hours ignoring the enticing scent of the essence flowing through the humans that surrounded him. He often thought of what he should be doing to them, but never let the ideas take hold for fear of acting out. Angelus was always waiting, less now since he got to play more, but if there was a chance that the demon could overthrow the soul and take over, it would give its all to the mutiny.

Therefore, he was reluctantly stimulated by the delicious odors in the air.

Blood. Human. Fresh. Alive.

He turned over, hardly awake, but making the effort. Wesley was on the pullout, snoring efficiently, not wasting one inhalation on silence. The vampire waited while the drowsiness, compounded by the midday sun, dissipated.

Blood.

Wesley, he determined upon a quick sensory examination, was not bleeding. He concentrated and shook off the last dregs of sleep, feeling for his childe. Heartbeats, two, and the blonde's presence were coming from the bedroom.

Tiredly and not without the exasperation that a parent feels toward a beloved but mischievous child, Angel swung his legs over the edge of the loft bed and hopped down quietly. The way to the back was clear of the boxes and such from their hurried loading and he was at the door within a few seconds.

Giggling...is what he heard. That and a gasp or growl here and there. And the smell of blood and arousal were thick, even on his side of the door. Part of him said knock, it is inappropriate to barge in, but the greater part of Angel was thinking like a vampire and refused to ask permission or apologize. That part, the demon, slid the door open and glared inside.

The scene was not what he expected.

Willow was lounging on her side, her head pillowed by an arm, while Spike, in game face, created and licked away tiny rivulets of blood from his seer's flesh, talking in whispers. Said seer moaned, giggled and gasped with each new tear in her skin.

And no one noticed he was there.

"Spike," he growled.

Willow turned over enough to lie flat on her back, her hand falling lazily by her head.

"Hey, Angel. Look everybody. It's Angel." She spoke slowly and happily, like his arrival was the best thing since apple pie.

Spike glanced up with a feral grin, lips red and fangs glistening as he licked them with his tongue. There was whimpering from Cordelia when he lost contact with her and she pulled him back.

"Angel! Spike is such a good kitty...you never told me that he was such a good kitty."

Angel stared, his face scrunching up in confusion. Whatever was occurring, one thing was apparent; it was consensual. But he could feel the demon inside his childe, warring and raging at being restrained. It wanted her blood in buckets. "Spike, let Cordelia up."

"Don't wanna, Angelus. And she don't wanna." This was said as he lapped at the blood from a fresh scratch on her belly.

Willow had faced them again, watching. Her own tummy did a flip as she eyed his tongue, snaking out to taste her friend, and she craved to feel him again.

"Don't fill up. I want a turn too," she pouted.

Spike glanced up, which was not that easy with Cordelia clutching and undulating beneath him. He wanted to answer Willow; go to her and tear into her playfully as well, but the brunette was a huge distraction.

"That's it." Angel grabbed Spike by the back of his neck, hauling him off Cordeia and slamming him into the small dresser, effectively removing all choices. "What's wrong with you all?"

Instead of violence, which he expected, or snark, which he understood, he got a grin and a hug.

"We're having a tea party, mate. I'm the cat."

"And you're not playing nicely at all, Angel," Willow added. Angel frowned, internally cringing because of how similar the redhead had sounded to Drusilla. She smiled at him sweetly and let her fingers skim over the mess of red on Cordelia's skin. Her fingers were serpents now, slithering and writhing over her friend as the brunette panted, very pleased with this turn in the game as well.

Cordy opened her eyes and slowly focused on Angel. Her mind manufactured golden electric sparks, dancing stormily in warm brown eyes; her own beautiful monster and she wanted him to play the game too. She giggled at the words that the blonde had started once again from where he stood next to Angel and she spoke, explaining it all.

"Spike's reciting poetry."

~Part: 26~

The counterpane had been turned down, revealing deep blue sheets of silken softness. Drusilla was tied to the four posts, a stark contrast in marbled curves, and William, or Spike as he was insisting they call him now, hovered over her, having his way.

Angelus viewed it all from the chaise which sat by the open French doors leading to the terrace. He was reclined, sketching his childer in the lazy afternoon breeze, a tiny smile dancing on his lips. Spike and Dru playing usually did lift his spirits.

Beneath the sounds of human life outside their townhouse was the deep resonant voice of his youngest, thick and slow like the chocolates Darla seemed to enjoy, whispering his latest lyrical creation to the raven haired beauty. Her body moved fluidly in time with her lover's and her smile reached languid hazel eyes as she spoke.

"Spike's reciting poetry."

Angel blinked. And the past collided with the present, becoming all too familiar for his comfort. With one hand holding Spike back, he used the other to pull Willow away from playing in Cordelia's blood. The entire scenario was wreaking havoc on his demon and he had no clue how Spike, as stupefied as he seemed to be at the moment, had not tried to drain them both.

"Willow..." He wanted her attention, but she was gazing at her hands and waving them in front of her face, and under his nose, fascinated by their very existence.

"Does it taste good to you?" she asked, rose tinted fingers going toward his mouth. He let go of Spike and grabbed both of her wrists gently, but firmly.

"What?" he asked, scowling.

"Spike says she's bloody delicious," she replied with a laugh, clearly more amused than Angel. Her British accent was terrible and she bloody well knew it.

A frown suddenly crept over her face. Angel was keeping her from her mission, which was apparently to make him lick her fingers, and she began to sulk. "You're no fun."

Images of the vampire version of Willow popped into his head and that was too much to endure. He reached for Spike, but the blonde was back on the bed, hands skimming over the seer's full frame while his mouth ravaged hers in a possessive embrace of lips, tongue and teeth.

"What the...Cordy! Spike! Willow!"

He shoved Willow out of the room, this time less careful of her human status. "Go wash your hands! Now!"

Not waiting to see if she obeyed, he turned to the couple on the bed who had quickly advanced to the shoving down of each others pants phase. With a growl, he tore the two of them apart, ignoring Spike's growls, and dragged the blonde out of the room.

Wesley was up, awakened by the commotion and Willow slamming the bathroom door. His eyes widened comically upon seeing the younger vampire in his demon visage, fangs glistening and lips stained red with blood.

"What's happened? Is... Are they..." the ex-watcher stammered.

"Everyone's okay...I guess," Angel answered before he glared at his childe, shaking him roughly. "What the fuck were you thinking, Spike?!"

The blonde let his face melt away and grinned up at his sire. "It was just a game. No harm done."

Angel ran a tired hand over his face, his eyes darting around for a place to take his wayward childe and beat the shit out of him, but there were not many options for privacy in the motorhome.

Cordelia came out of the bedroom, looking lost. "Spike, aren't you coming back? I wanna hear more."

"Yeah, luv. Soon as Sir Brood-A-Lot is done manhandling me, I'll give you a private reading."

She squealed with delight and Angel could smell just how much she wanted it.

"There will be no more poetry! Not today! Not until you've all...until whatever spell you're under wears off." If Willow had been playing around with the magics...well he really did not know what he was going to do, but it would definitely involve some yelling and hand gestures.

He growled at Cordy since she could not turn him into a toad or set his hair on fire with a glance. "You, get that blood off you before I decide to bite you."

She huffed, about to protest being ordered about, but he had moved on to the most pressing problem.

"And you...come with me," he snarled, snatching Spike by the back of his neck and hauling him into the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had no conscious thought process, or at least none that a humanlike mind would comprehend.

The night stretched on. Black sky, absent of the dull illumination that came from city lights, was crib and cradle to them; where they felt most at ease. Darkness was their home. They did not need to understand beyond that.

One cried out, a metallic screeching that split open the waning night, and they both changed direction, synchronized and fluid, until they were in a downward freefall. The smaller one flipped and turned, mid-air somersaults, and its wings cut through the air decisively, creating a thunderous noise in its wake. Before hitting the ground they both straightened and flew low, wings expanded and flapping slowly, as the sun began its trek across the sky

Feeling.

It was what they did. The essence of a being, its scent and taste, were easily imprinted on these creatures, and they took those primal pieces and transformed them into something else that could hone in on the emotional discharge of that same person. Feelings, like ribbons in the wild wind, were everywhere in the world, much less now of course, but still there and the birds saw them, felt them, like we see the sun and moon.

So they hunted for the particular emotions that were wrapped in the sheets; the emotions of a witch and a vampire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drugs were a wonderful thing. They allowed escape and freedom from one's own tired existence. Of course with that came abuse, addiction, overdose, all the nasty aspects that no one liked to discuss. But for that moment, happiness ensued.

Angel glared at his happy childe, not quite sure of the cause, but his initial diagnosis of witchcraft as the culprit was fading fast. That mostly had everything to do with the bag he found on the floor by the bed.

"What's this?"

The blonde closed his eyes and began to hum while Angel rolled his.

"Spike!"

"Stop calling my name, Peaches. I hear you."

"Then answer me. What is this crap?"

His eyes opened slowly and he leveled his gaze with considerable effort, reaching for the bag once he recognized it. Angel eluded him, keeping it from his grasp. Spike gave up without much effort. "It's the invitation."

The brunette sat on the bed and let out a huge sigh. This was going to be like a day with Drusilla. "Okay, an invitation. To what?"

"The tea party, you ponce. Stop screwing with my high, Angelus. We'll talk later." Spike sunk to his knees before the brunette and began unbuckling his sire's belt. He wanted to shag someone...now.

Angel took his hands, halting him. "No...you're not yourself..." He felt like the ponce Spike accused him of being. His demon was screaming at him to shove his growing erection into that grinning mouth.

"Come on, Angel. You've taken away my toys. Least you could do is play with me instead." He smirked, tilting his head back as another wave kicked his high into third gear.

Angel groaned, the smooth column tempting him until he finally gave in and changed faces. His fangs slid home and he began to drink down his boy. Spike was surprised, but pleasantly so and only brought his hand up to his sire's head to cradle him and keep him there.

Soon there was nothing else but the blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia slumped into the couch, stealing what she thought were furtive glances at Wesley. He, on the other hand, found her to be quite obvious. Willow was in the bathroom, taking too long, and the seer was becoming irritated. The drugs amplified that feeling and she huffed and sighed as her impatience increased.

"What?" Wesley asked.

"Hmmm?" Her foot tapped incessantly on the floor and he placed a hand on her knee, stilling its movement.

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

"Oh, I wasn't...was I?" She looked away, deliberately concentrating on a cabinet across from where they sat. "I think I did something bad...again." When he straightened his back she quickly put her hands up, palms out. "Not that kinda bad, just..." she frowned and took a deep breath. "I got high and made out with Spike...I think. Or I just imagined I made out with him and that's even worse cuz that would have a whole new level of hidden meaning."

He stifled his chuckle and went into non-judgmental friend mode. "Cordelia, there are plenty of things that are worse than a ...bit of indiscretion with that vampire. He apparently brings out the baser instincts in people." His eyes clouded over as he mused about just how the blonde affected everyone and he almost didn't hear her.

"It wasn't bad at all. That's the problem." The world was coming back to her and she wished that she could forget what happened, but it was all there, starkly bright and burning in her memories.

Pulling down her shirt to expose the swell of her breast, she whispered to her oldest confidant. "I let him bite me, Wes. A lot."

His eyes traveled over the marks, even as he held his fingers in check. "Oh, Cordelia, no."

The door to the bathroom slid open, revealing a wild looking redhead.

"Do you feel that?"

Neither knew what she was referring to and shook their heads in unison.

"Something's coming." Her jaw was firm and her high evidently gone, the seeds of dangers replacing the happy feeling in her mind. "Can't you hear it?" She frowned as she pulled out the plastic bin containing her limited magic supplies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel giggled and rolled over, putting too much of his weight on the slighter male.

"I think...something's wrong with you."

Spike pushed him off with a grunt. "Yeah? What?"

"I'm not sure. Your hair is falling in your face, so that's a little bizarre." He pulled the blonde to him and buried his nose in his neck. "You smell good...Missed this, you know."

The blonde, who was coming down quickly since Angel drank from him, twisted, trying to see his sire, but the vampire clutched him tighter.

"Look, mate, you're high now, and just a bit on the happy side. Don't say anything you'll stake yourself over later." Spike was already having stake-worthy thoughts. Had he actually hugged Angel?

"Mmmm, is that what this is? I feel great."

"Not too great, I hope," Spike added, pushing Angel off of him with a finality that had his sire pouting. He rolled his eyes and stood just as the door was slid open hurriedly. Willow stood there in a panic, her frantic heartbeat seizing the attention of both demons.

"Sorry...something's coming. I don't know what, but I feel it. Do you feel it?"

Both shook heads indicating no, but Spike seemed to hesitate before pushing past her.

"I hear something. Angel, listen."

The older demon was having difficulty concentrating on what was happening, but understood that they were in some kind of danger so he did as his childe instructed and stretched his senses.

After nearly a minute, Angel spoke. "Airborne. I'm hearing wings. They sound weird, but definitely wings."

"Yeah, me too." Spike grabbed Willow. "Can you make us invisible or something?"

She shook her head. "Not all of us, no."

Wesley was dressing by the sofa, not bothering with modesty. He tossed a gun to Cordy and kept two for himself. "Does Rupert have a phone over there?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," Willow replied as she took the sword Angel handed her.

"I'm going to get them," he declared and reached for the door handle. Spike's growl and hand over his stopped him from opening it.

"Whatever is out there is close," he stated and glanced back at Angel. "Cover me, Peaches," he ordered as he flung a blanket over his head. His sire snatched him back.

"It's too thin." He gestured toward the blanket. "Wes can make it."

The ex-watcher nodded and took off without waiting for another interruption. Cordelia stood on the outer stairs, her gun aimed at everything and nothing, as she attempted to make sure nothing snuck up or swooped down on Wesley.

The sky was bright and clear, typical. Angel leaned out as far as he dared, bothered but not sure why. The effects of his little trip had worn off quickly, but he attributed his uneasiness to it just the same.

"Do you hear that?" Spike's deep voice vibrated through him as his childe pressed against his back, trying to see what was happening. Angel shook his head. "That's just it, Peaches. I don't hear anything either, but those bloody screeching wings coming closer. No birds, no animals. It's like everything's shut down, hiding and scared."

~~~~~~~~~~

The incessant banging grated on his nerves swiftly and Giles unlocked the door, letting Wesley inside. He and Ethan had fallen asleep while he had been telling a tale, updating the mage on his activities since they had last met, so this disturbance was as startling as it was annoying.

"Good Lord, man, what it is?"

Wesley stole a quick glance outside while answering. "We're not sure. Willow...and Angel and Spike feel something coming. We need to get in the motorhome, quickly."

Ethan heard and realized that although he had almost slept through it, he felt it now. Snatching his bag, he stood, bent at the waist to accommodate the low roof. "Let's go, Ripper...now."

Not needing to be told again, Giles slipped on his shoes, as did Ethan, and slid the side door of the van open, peeking out. Wesley exited from the passenger door where he entered, gun trained on the seemingly empty sky.

Strategically, they had not parked the van in the best position with relation to the RV and had to walk around to the other side before coming into view of the others. Ethan and Giles were almost to the door when Wesley changed directions, like a pinball in mid-play.

"What are you doing?" Cordelia called out as the other two were ushered in past her.

"Going to warn the others and give them a gun," he yelled over his shoulder without breaking stride.

The seer looked heavenward; the terrible sound that the vampires had been hearing for the last five minutes was now loud enough, or close enough, for her to hear. "Crap, crap, crap."

Willow slipped around her, going out after Wesley, weaponless, or seemingly so. Hers were a bit more covert. "Shoot anything you see." She told her. Spike and Angel watched her leave, unable to pull her back or assist.

Amy was already up and on alert, the same central warning system imbedded in her as well. She opened the door to the bus as soon as Wesley hit it.

"It's close. What is it?" she asked, wide eyed and nervous.

"We don't know. No time." He handed one of his guns to Kyle. "Move this thing around quickly until your door is lined up with the motorhome's."

The boy started the engine as Willow climbed on board.

"Amy, do you think together we can put up a barrier?" Willow was loathed to cast with her again, but it was either the blonde witch or Ethan and she was at least familiar with how Amy worked. The idea of Chaos getting under her skin was more frightening than anything Amy had ever done.

"Maybe...I...I have some stuff." Pulling out a box of supplies, she and Willow went to work, trying to keep things steady as the bus swung around.

"I can't get any closer," the green-eyed boy complained. The van was parked in such away that it blocked the bus from getting closer. But it was much better than before, the distance now only about twenty feet. More importantly, the doors were visible to each other.

"Shut down the engine and watch the windows. Whatever it is, it's coming from the sky." He glanced back at the terrified little faces. "Perhaps they should move to the center aisle for now. It may be safer."

The sound was louder now, undeniable and relentless in its approach. "Willow do you have what you need?"

She shook her head, sorting through the box. "No, damnit! I'll have to just do it alone."

"Then we're going back first. I don't want to risk trying to carry you with no barrier if it doesn't work and you're too weak." He also knew that he was not going to return without her and face the blonde vampire. His soul seemed unpredictable at best.

Willow nodded and spun to face the other witch. "Amy, take this phone. I'll call you on it in a minute. Just...just stay inside."

They dashed out quickly, not looking back, covering their ears to protect them from the deafening squawking and screams. Something swooped down and Willow swung at the air wildly, shrieking as she felt her arm sliced open. Wesley turned, took aim, and shot. The squawking got louder as it, a bird-like monstrosity, came closer, and he punched at its awful beak, while being battered by wings that made hot, savage tears in his flesh.

Willow hopped inside and turned to haul Wesley in, but he was not behind her. Instead he was being attacked by one of the birds a few feet from the door. Spike shoved through, same thin blanket covering him, and yanked the man backwards, ignoring the smoky tendrils that were already coming from his suddenly heated skin.

They both somewhat fell backwards and landed inside and Angel dragged his childe further in, slapping at the smoldering areas on his skin. Ignoring her own wound, Willow and Cordelia tended to Wesley, who suffered from an amazing amount of lacerations and jagged gashes all over his hands, face and arms. Even his shirt sleeves were tattered. The scent of blood was thick in the air and Spike, although not particularly injured or hungry, let his demon visage come forth.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

~Part: 27~

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Spike’s question went ignored.  Instead, Cordelia ripped a sheet in long strips, handing them to Willow who was not too sure what to do next.  Most of the Scooby injuries were handled in a hospital and she was never part of the patch-Spike-up parties.

“Tie off his arms, Willow!” the brunette snapped while grabbing an arm and wrapping a strip around the appendage above the elbow.  “He’s bleeding out.”

Willow nodded and tried to duplicate her friend’s actions.  Giles joined them, the first aid bin in tow, with Ethan trailing behind carrying a bucket of cool water.

They went to work cleaning the gashes while trying to stem the flow of blood.  The vampires watched from a distance, their demons battling for control as the scent of Wesley’s essence permeated every crevice of the RV.

Angel listened intently to his comrade’s heart, anxious and worried, but aware that soon it would falter if he continued to bleed.

Curious, he listened as Magdalena rushed past Drusilla, her skirts swishing noisily as she ran through the parlor and up the stairs.  The door to his rooms was closed and normally even knocking was something a minion loathed to do.  No one dared risk disturbing the master of the house.  Apparently today was not a normal day and this was no ordinary matter.

She rapped on the wood twice before turning and breaking the lock in the process.  Stepping into the darkened bedroom, she stilled at the sight of his eyes, golden and glistening with malice.

“Pardon the intrusion, sir,” she managed to keep her voice steady.  He admired her a little for that, but intended to punish her rudeness regardless.  “The girl, the one you’ve been visiting, she was attacked.”

He sat up quickly, the covers falling from his body and from that of his newest childe.

“Where is she?” he demanded quietly.  The boy was shaking off sleep and he could do without William’s antics at the moment.

“They’ve taken her to the surgery.  Word has it that it was the Vemlaka who done it.”

He dressed quickly, his movements efficient and economic...controlled, in hopes of attaining true power over this situation.  The Vemlaka were determined to keep the area under their authority and did not take well to having vampires, especially Aurelian in lineage, move in.  The girl, Desonda, was a witch that Angelus planned to bring into the family as soon as he figured out how ensure her powers made the transition to the demon.  So he had been experimenting; killing and turning others with less power to see if they retained their gifts.  So far, of the three he had done, two still displayed magical abilities beyond what could be expected in creatures such as them.

It was the third unsuccessful turning that stalled his plans to turn the girl as he searched to understand what had been done differently in her case.  So far his investigations had been futile and he was close to losing patience, but that was his secret.  Outwardly, he appeared calm and utterly undeterred.

He cast a glance at the young vampire, who was now watching him, waiting for an explanation.

“Vemlaka got to Desonda.  I’m going to the surgery.  You stay here and keep Dru inside.  I don’t know what they’ll try next.”

William stretched and nodded sleepily.  “Will you turn her tonight, then?”

“If need be.  I won’t let her die without my blood in her mouth.”

He had let her die.

Something in him, his assuredness that his will would not be thwarted, kept him from bursting in on the doctor in attendance, killing him and turning the girl.

And he lost her.

Angel shifted nervously, wanting to be away from the scene, but fascinated by the blood and panic and pain that surrounded him.  Spike’s stomach growled and he glanced at the blonde, who stared back, unashamed, not in the least apologetic about his demonic musings.

They would always be the predators.  No amount of souling changed that.  Spike had become oddly at peace with that notion long before his sire had even begun to consider the implications.

The injury to the left arm was extensive, a gash going deep along a vein producing a steady flow that could not be allowed to continue at this rate for long.  Giles took over from Cordelia and was trying to stitch the opening, but blood poured out, blocking his view, no matter how much the others wiped it away.

Angel leaned over and clamped a preternaturally strong hand around his friend’s upper arm, turning away from temptation as he formed a makeshift tourniquet.  The watcher noticed a reduction in the surge, but there was still more than enough to foil his efforts at finding and stitching the vein.

Wesley’s eyes got that distant look that Spike recognized.  The man was bleeding out.  He pulled Angel off to the side, as much as he could with his sire’s hand still attached to the man’s upper arm.  He kept an ear on Wesley’s heartbeat while filtering out other, insignificant sounds, and pursed his lips. His voice was a deep, growling whisper that only Angel could hear.

“He’s dying and you know it.  Make a decision.”

 ~~~*~~~

 Amy stared out the window from her seat behind the driver’s, eyes wild with suppressed fear.   The bird had attacked that man and tore his upper body to shreds before their eyes.  She had tried a spell to repel the monster, but her magic rolled off, leaving it unaffected, and she wondered if Willow would have better luck.  Despite their past, she found herself strangely pleased that the redhead seemed to escape the attack with minimal injuries.  She did not know the tall, dark-haired man at all and was understandably less affected by him being hurt.  Still, she wished that she had been able to help him somehow.

Her blonde companion, Kyle, stood near the front of the bus where his view was unobstructed, waiting for them to attack.  But the monsters never glanced their way as they circled the motorhome   Several times he had a clear shot, but refrained, not wanting to draw their way that deadly brand of attention.

“Do you think he is okay?” he asked quietly.

Amy shook her head, then realized he could not see her and replied, “Nuh uh.”

The gravity of the situation was becoming apparent.  Not just this current dilemma, but the entire state of affairs.  The world had changed...for the worse.  What was once normal was now awkward and fragile and dangerously close to non-existent.   Demons and monsters were the more common occurrence.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before.”  He continued talking as he stared into the sky, needing to say something to fill in the whimper-punctuated silence.  “Even after this mess started.  That was all a blur, but this was bright and shiny, in living color and dolby sound.”

She listened to the despair in his voice, understanding because she felt it as well.

“We are with the best people in the world to get through this alive.  Maybe even stop it.”

He turned to look at her, disbelief the dominant _expression on his young features.  “They aren’t people.  Not all of them.  Two demons, vampires...are running things.  You think they don’t plan on eating us?”

In the few weeks since the demons had overrun the earth, Kyle’s experience with vampires had been the most distressing.  It was the fact that they looked like humans and blended in nicely that bothered him most and made them utterly untrustworthy.  Their whole existence was one big lie meant to fool the sheep.  He hated being part of the herd.

“These guys saved the world before...a few times.  And I think we are gonna have to help them do it again.”

He rolled his eyes and looked away, not ready to throw in with demons.  Not yet.

 ~~~*~~~

He had passed out.  That much was evident.  As was the blood pooling beneath his left shoulder.   Spike had to keep the demon in him in check.  He wanted to take the man’s arm and lick it until he found the vein and suck until there was nothing left.   Despite how wonderful he would feel afterwards, physically, his soul would never allow it and for that he was grateful.  But Angel was having a harder time of it.  This was his friend and he was not going to make it.

Shaking hands slipped on the blood as Giles tried in vain to close the gash that was causing the greatest loss, Willow’s constant chanting a comfort and Wesley’s only real hope.   He fancied that he saw a difference, but was not sure if that was just wishful seeing.

“Turn him.”

Time stopped as everyone looked at the blonde who had spoken quietly, but determinedly.

“No,” Angel whispered, lacking conviction.  He promised himself to never make another childe, never damn another soul.  For that is what Wesley would be...his childe. Not a minion, but of his bloodline and cherished as he cherished them all.  “No,” he repeated, a little stronger this time, but still shaky.  Spike, however, was certain.

Giles spoke up.  “Of course he won’t turn him.  Spike, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Peaches won’t be any good without his pet watcher. And I wasn’t asking.  If he doesn’t do it, then I will...”  He glanced at the dying man, hearing what only Angel could hear, before adding, “Real soon.”

 ~~~*~~~

He was being dragged again and made a mental note to have a little chat with his sire about the rough treatment later.  Right now he had to deal with Angel’s histrionics.  He was amazed by his own patience and ability to prioritize of late.  These were novel traits and needed further examination.

Being tossed into the bedroom, yet again, did not set well with the blonde.

“Hey, you stupid git, we don’t have time for this!”  The blonde sprang up from where he had landed, growling and glaring at the other vampire.  “Your boy doesn’t have long.”

Angel did not take another step into the room as he returned the stare, although it harbored less animosity and more confusion.  “I can’t do it, Spike.  I...”

“But you could do it to me?”

His voice was small, fragile, human and it nearly broke his heart to ask.  Spike never minded being a vampire.  Maybe it was not the perfect existence, but being human was not the prize either.  But to think that Angel regretted him, turning him, teaching him, that would make his entire unlife pointless.   Was Wesley something he cherished more or less than Spike and would not damn him thusly?  Did he not know it had been more a blessing to young William?

Angel saw the pain brewing beneath the surface, the cool blue eyes belying the unsettling emotional storm that was his childe.  Spike, William, Will, in any incarnation, he would want him and want to possess him.  How could he be that for another?

“You...are special.”  It was the right answer.  It was the truth.

Spike seemed to consider this before rolling his eyes and stalking the few feet to his sire.   Clapping his hand on the back of Angel’s neck, he pulled the brunette’s mouth to his own, at first leading the kiss.  But then as Angel’s surprise faded, the older demon took charge and let them both know who was master here.

Spike was pleased with the display, feeling Angelus close to the surface and hoping it was enough to influence the decision.  He would rather not turn the human himself.  He was saving that for Willow, should the occasion arise.  He pulled away as the noise outside the room became more frantic, placing one last light kiss on sinuous lips.

“Go on, Angel.  Do it.”

Sliding the door open, Angel nodded and approached his blood-soaked friends.  He could feel Spike behind him and understood that he would have his back.

He stooped down on his haunches and lifted Wesley easily, ignoring the way his head lolled listlessly.

Willow grabbed his broad shoulder.  “What are you doing?”  The warning in her voice went unheeded as he shrugged her off and kept walking to the back.

She made to go after him as did Cordelia and Giles, but the blonde blocked the way, grabbing the witch by her arm.  “He loves him, like family,” he whispered harshly.  “If he dies because we couldn’t go into the sodding sun...”

Understanding eluded them and always would.  No matter how much they read and studied, no one knew the life of a vampire, but a vampire.  So their resistance was reasonable, but irrelevant.  When a vampire kept a human pet...and this was just what Angel had been doing, albeit for differing reasons that when he had been unsouled...his or her impending death was a time of decisions, for turning or allowing the natural order to prevail.  Angelus never did like to give up what was his and cheated death of its prize frequently.

He was conflicted, but inclined to do it again today.

“Get out of the way, Spike,” the watcher demanded.

“Not gonna happen, Rupes.  I suggest you clean up the blood before it stains permanent like.”  He answered the man quietly, seemingly laidback.  The hard glint in his eyes told a different story; one which Giles ignored.

“I’ll be cleaning your ashes if you don’t let me pahh...”

Spike cut him off, grabbing the man by the throat, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to be a threat.  “I’m not neutered anymore, Rupert, and I won’t lick you to death.”  He released the man with a shove and a snarl.  “Now...He’ll either do it or he won’t, but it’s his choice.  We haven’t been here all these years, now have we?”

“Well, I have, Bleach Boy, and there is no way I’m letting Angel turn him into an evil thing.”

“I don’t see where you have a choice,” Spike replied, completely undeterred by their concern.  He knew what Angel and grief were like and being this close to him, the bond...it would put them both out of sorts for days.

“I can stop him, you know.”  It was a statement and the blonde only nodded at Willow.

“Yeah, you can.  But you won’t cuz deep down you know this ain’t the worse of the two evils.”

“But he’ll be evil.  We can’t trust him like that,” she reasoned.

“Bloody Hell, Red, I’m evil and you trust me!”  He sighed, lowering his voice. “Well, a little evil, but you can just curse him and we’re all set.  Since he’s never slaughtered anyone, the happiness clause can’t even apply, right?”

Willow bit her lip.  In theory, it sounded like a good, solid plan except....

Giles asked first. “The orb...do we have one?”

~Part: 28~

As he placed Wesley on the bed, Angel felt the world shrinking, becoming something that held enough space just for the two of them.  Hovering, the satellite to his earth, was the presence of Spike, constant and demanding.

He sat carefully as if that simple action could do more damage to the already broken man, and visually took his fill of his friend. There were gashes, slashes and tears in the once near perfect skin.  Running a finger over one particularly nasty rip, he smiled, thinking of how Drusilla would find him lovely.

Drusilla was gone.  That pained him more than he ever thought it would with the soul.

Angel was two childer down now and the last of the direct line to the Master waited outside the door, arrogant, cocky and bold even with the soul, expecting not to be the last any longer.

“See him, Daddy.”  Drusilla pointed at the young man pining away while sitting on a stack of hay in analleyway barn boor.

Angelus nodded, allowing his wicked girl to curl around him; she slithered just right.  “Is this the one in your head, Princess?”

She grinned furiously and hissed, “Yes.  He burns bright and long.”

He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of roses and blood.  “Then go play for a bit, while I distract Darla...but wait for me, precious.”  He took a long look at the man shredding papers while mumbling angrily.  “This one will belong to me.”

He had no doubt that Spike was listening to Wesley’s vitals, despite the animated conversation taking place outside of the room, and if he did not turn him, the blonde would certainly try.  His stomach lurched as a weird tightening in his chest forced him to breathe.  Just the idea of the human belonging to another, even one that was already his, set his demon on edge.

Just like that night in London.

Often, he had thought he had made a mistake.  William was enormously spirited and stubborn when it came to submitting to Angelus’ desires, just the opposite of his dark jewel who was more than willing to please her Daddy.  But those thoughts had only been the twisted products of his growing frustration on the days that the boy had bested him.  In the end, the challenge always made up for everything else.

Turning his attention back to the one who needed it, he gazed at the face, pale now due to the blood loss, but still holding more heat than he ever would again; death or unlife would leave him cold and seeking warmth though the blood.  He caressed a cheek and sighed, feeling Wesley’s heart begin to beat more erratically.

The actual process was easy, Angel knew that, but his nerves were still taut and screaming and he wished he had said goodbye to his friend first as he crawled over the supine, still figure.  Changing faces, he nuzzled into and licked the soft vulnerable flesh, shuddering.  He had not tasted human blood from the fount in what seemed an eternity.  For a vampire a day without the hot fluid seemed an eternity.   Resolved, fangs sank in deep, instinctively doing what he had craved to do for years.

Blood hit his tongue, but not with the force he remembered, and he was slightly disappointed until the taste of Wesley bombarded his senses as it had once before on a tugboat in the Pacific.  He drank eagerly, but the man was nearly dead already so he only permitted himself a few soul-jolting swallows before pulling away and slicing his own wrist.   Blood, rich in age and power, dripped onto parted lips as Angel pressed the bleeding limb to Wesley’s mouth.   When the orifice became too full, instinct took over and he began actively drawing the blood from the vampire.  Strength from the demon taking hold allowed him to regain consciousness for a few seconds and stare up at his new god.

Shortly after, his heart stopped and Angel felt it when he died his human death.  Tears, silent and conflicted, sprang from the demon’s eyes as he gathered the cooling body to him and settled in to wait.

~~~*~~~

He sat on the floor with his back to the door, watching, although his role as guard dog was no longer needed.  They had given up on trying to get past him and into the small bedroom.  Instead, they were on a mission, checking through bins and bags for the small wooden box that Giles said contained the Orb.  He thought he had packed the thing, but its location eluded him.  So they were otherwise occupied.  But Spike could feel the division forming between them, a chasm of misunderstanding and distrust widening in the earth from the quake of this event.

It was done.  He knew it even if the others did not.  He had assumed Willow might feel it, or the other wizard.  If either had a clue, they kept quiet about it and continued the hunt.

Strange.  Excited.  Exalted.

These feelings overwhelmed him as his demon basked in the creation of a new one.  The soul wanted to cringe, but he batted that unwanted sensation away, choosing to revel in the strengthening of family.  He laughed quietly.  The order of Aurelius had taken quite a new turn; one fitting for this strange, new world.

“What’s going on in there?”

He glanced up to see Giles standing over him, arms crossed, looking put out.

A shrug was his only reply, but the watcher was not buying it.

“I know you can hear and smell everything in there and have some sixth sense when it comes to your kind.”

“My kind,” he replied deadpanned.  “And just what kind would that be now?”

Giles sighed, exasperated.  “For God’s sake, Spike, now is not the time for a philosophical discussion about your unique existence.  I just want to know what’s happening.”

His features softened somewhat and Giles was surprised to find that he was relieved.  He did not want to argue with the vampire and was not all that sure he trusted him.  Now that he and Angel were no longer at each other’s throats, which was bizarre enough, and  were actually siding with each other, he noticed more traces of the demon that killed Jenny in Angel, brought out by the presence of Spike, and it put him on edge.

Spike was not about to tell him that Wesley was already dead and waiting to rise.  He would probably have to knock him out to keep him away from his sire and new sibling.  Not that he minded hitting the watcher, he did not mind hitting much, but Willow would be bitchy about it.

“It’s a waiting game,” he said slipping up the wall easily, reminding Giles of the tightly coiled power the blonde contained.  “So be a good little watcher and wait.”

He saw the closing up of Spike’s mind, a steel door than slammed shut right in his face, and relented.  Spike would not be giving up any information until Angel allowed.

“Can you help us search for the Orb, Spike?”

He glanced around at the chaos created by the humans as they went through bin after box after bin and shook is head slightly.  “Nah, you’ve got enough worker bees.  ‘Sides, not like I can smell the bloody thing, is it?”

~~~*~~~

Pouring all of her energies into finding the Orb, Willow had little room for mental musings, but they wiggled into her busy mind anyway.

Wesley was dying, or dead, and a vampire, unless Angel was too late, which she hoped as well.

All the options were terrible and made her head hurt.  She hoped Spike was right about the clause.  Just the fact that he thought of it and it made sense had her wondering about the blonde vampire again.  He always seemed so young and impetuous; his plans rash and implemented with the patience of a toddler, but then there were times when he showed scary insight and a lateral way of thinking that cut through everything useless and got to the point.

Of course he had been on this earth for over 150 years, including human ones, so he must have learned something along the way.  She smiled at some of the things he had learned and taught her.

“What’s up?”

Startled, she let out a little yelp, not having seen or heard Cordelia approach, and got back to sorting through a bin of Giles’ things.  “Just hunting for a mystical ball.”

“Why can’t Giles be more organized?” the brunette complained. Willow smiled, remembering her friend's unorthodox system of filing.

“He’s lazy like that,” she replied and turned to face Cordelia.  “What do you think is going on in there?”  Although she was grieving for Wesley, a piece of her was excited at the prospect of seeing him as a vampire.  She was beyond the demon equals evil theory, knowing that evil came in all forms, souled or not.

“Probably icky vampire stuff.  Angel is bizarre beyond the telling of it,” she responded, but missed the days when she had him to herself and they were in love, before the possession and Connor, and she worked to hide that longing from her friend.

“What do you think he’ll be like...I mean, you know, when he’s all evil?”  Willow’s eyes shone with wild curiosity as her lips curled into a quirky smile.  It was the kind of inquisitiveness that got her in trouble in the past.

“Hmmm...let’s see. Tall, lanky, with wicked knowledge, and a stick up his ass?”

“Well, when you put it that way he seems like a lot of fun.”  Willow fake pouted.

“Yeah, about as much fun as small pox, which by the way I am so dying to catch.”

“He can’t be that bad, I mean, it’s Wesley.  You know, kinda repressed, but goofy and has a nice girly scream.”

“Honey, that Wesley don’t live here anymore,” she laughed, oddly bitter as the sound tinkled around them.

Willow only frowned, the wrinkle between her eyebrows deepening, so the seer continued.  “A lot of stuff happened last year.  Wesley is...was different, I don’t know, scary, darker, kinda evil without the malicious intent.  So I can’t see malice added to the mix as being a good thing.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds as the implications truly sank in. Willow spoke first.

“Then we had better find that Orb...now.”

~~~*~~~

“The birds are gone,” Ethan proclaimed.  He had been watching for them from time to time, but mostly he felt their absence like one feels the absence of a loaded gun pointed at one’s head.

“We need to find out what they were...what they wanted,” Giles replied distractedly as he dug in a box.  The search was becoming desperate.  There was not much that they had not looked through already and he was beginning his second round.

“I don’t know what they wanted, but they have been after you.  Some horde of demons is tracking you and I afraid that was just the beginning.”

Giles stood and approached the other mage.  “What?  You knew and didn’t say anything?”

“Let’s not get our knickers in a twist, Ripper.  I didn’t know much and I told you that during our heartfelt reunion.  I think you were a bit too preoccupied with holding grudges and behaving like a two-year-old to hear what I had to say.”

He had the good sense to look ashamed.  “Yes, well, you seem to have that affect.  What do you know?  I’m actually listening now.”  He smiled and Ethan grinned back.

“The buggers were on the highway, attacked me as I passed them by.  I slowed them down for a while, surprised the hell out of the ugly bastards, but I suspect they’ll keep coming.  And for the record, those things did not attack.  Not until your friend did.  They also never tried to attack again.  I’d wager they only were sent to find us.”

“Lovely...”  Giles whispered.  The new vampire in the bedroom had to take priority.  He glanced at Spike who had the audacity to look bored.  “Spike...you've been through this.  What can we expect?”

Blue eyes penetrated Giles’ mossy green ones while he considered the answer, or if he would answer.   He did not think the rules applied to him, so different was his situation at the time.

“We need to know what to do.  The Orb is lost for the moment.”

Ideally, Giles wished to have done the spell before the fledgling woke, so that the demon had no concept of existence in the body without the soul.  That, theoretically, should limit the internal battle, or at least that was his hope.

“How long before he rises?”

“Who said he turned him?  He could be in there brooding over not turning him.”  Spike bluffed without knowing why.  It just felt right.

“Fine then, if he turned him, how long?”

“Dunno.”   Spike did not think mentioning that Angel had turned a sailor back in the forties, while souled, would go over will with the watcher right now.  “I’m the last childe he created...”

“I wonder why?” the watcher mumbled.

Spike only glowered and continued.  “But I’m pretty sure it takes longer than minions and they usually rise within a day, so maybe by tomorrow night. Unless Angel forces his demon into awaken sooner.”

“Is he planning on staying in there the entire time?”

“Him or me, yeah.”

“Well, this gives us some leeway in finding that blasted Orb.  And I also think we should move on.  Those birds had a purpose...I don’t wish to wait around to learn what.”

“You should drive this monstrosity and send your boy to drive the van.”

He did not appreciate taking orders, or anything resembling one, from the blonde.  Most times anything Spike said could be taken with a grain of salt, yet he found himself doing just that, preparing the others to leave as quickly as possible.

~~~*~~~

The door slid open revealing a disheveled Angel.  Spike stood slowly and glimpsed behind his sire at the corpse on the bed.

“We’re moving,” Angel stated as his eyes scanned the main cabin.

“I see you gave him too much of your blood.  Still as observant as ever.”

“I mean why are we moving?” he replied with an eye roll.

“Watcher thinks the whirly birds were more than a coincidence and wants to get on the road.  I don’t disagree.”

There was blood on Angel’s hands and Spike grabbed one, bringing a finger to his mouth for a taste.  The brunette closed his eyes and held in a groan while his childe sucked the digit clean.  “How did it go?”

Exhaling harshly, he replied, “He drank a lot before...he died.  He’ll be strong.”

Spike nodded and let go of his hand, bothered for no apparent reason, but did his best not to show it.  “They can’t find the bloody Orb.”

Angel ran a stained hand through his hair.  “Yeah.   That’s really not good.  I’ll have to feed him to control the bloodlust.”

“I know.  Maybe they’ll find it before that.  You know the Scoobies, always coming in at the last minute like the bloody cavalry.”

They both chuckled quietly and Spike felt a pang of sorrow that Willow and Giles were the only Scoobies left.

“Well, I better get back...” Angel trailed off as he took a step backwards and into the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.  They were trying to get in for a while.  Didn’t think it was a brilliant idea.”

“Thanks.”  He started to close the door and Spike turned to sit down when Angel placed a hand on his shoulder.  “I...you wanna come in?  Wait with me?"

Spike smirked, placing his hand over Angel’s.  “No hanky panky, then?  A little private party to mark the end of my tenure as Angelus’ youngest childe?”

Raking his eyes over his boy hungrily, he clasped his large hand around Spike’s neck and pulled him into the room.  “I just wanna mark you.”

“And if they try to come in?”  Spike thought they were over it, but they were a nosy bunch as well.

Angel just kissed him again before saying, “Then we give them a show.”

~Part: 29~

The drinking had always been worrisome.  She tried it once herself, to ease the pain of Oz’s departure, but the effects were decidedly false and fleeting and at the time she determined that it was not worth the resulting fuzzy headache.  Giles, however, found never ending comfort in the bottom of a good bottle of scotch.  That was something she discovered about the man when a certain newly chipped vampire had become a guest in the watcher’s home.

Apparently, Spike drove him to drink.

Today, comfort was being doled out in large glassfuls as Giles drank and drove.  She watched with a grimace as the glass dropped from his hand and unto the carpet as he muttered something about crashing and most of the passengers being dead already.  Not that she blamed him for seeking to escape the situation, but she knew he was going to be useless for a while and she needed to talk to him, to get some of these theories out of her head before she acted on them.  More importantly, she needed that Orb.

Cordelia was not accessible at the moment.  At first she had been chatty, telling tales of Wesley, the one Willow have never known, but after a while she became thoughtful and the redhead left her to her memories.  Her friend needed to grief in her own way, in her own time.

That Wesley would rise in a number of hours, intent on killing every human around, was something she dreaded and feared, but also looked forward to on a purely scientific level.  The differences in his personality and the use of the human host’s memories would surely prove fascinating.  She felt sorry for Cordelia, who he would be able to hurt the most, since they had been close.

She glanced at the door.  Spike had slipped inside the room at Angel’s invitation about an hour ago, while they were still looking through Giles’ things.  Several times she set out to knock on that flimsy sliding door, but refrained.  What was happening back there was inhuman and she had no place in it.  The muffled cries that she knew to be Spike either in blinding agony or mind-melting ecstasy drew her in and repelled her in equal measure.

No one else seemed to notice.  In the end, she settled on making that call to Amy and the others.  Truthfully, in the midst of the chaos, she had forgotten about them completely. Once she did remember, getting the things needed to ensoul the new vampire had taken priority.

Things were calm now, as the eye of a storm is calm.  She hoped that the challenge of talking to the other witch would prove a distraction from the totally surreal concept of Wesley Wyndham-Price, Vampire Watcher.

~~~*~~~

The Feelers circled in the air above the makeshift camp, attracting the attention of the Grorox below with their ear piercing screeches.

Milhan came from his tent and glanced skyward, squinting in the harsh light.  They all smelled it: the blood of a human, recently spilled and tinged with power.  These were the kind they sought, and the low whispering among the clan hinted at approval.  Smiling to himself, he knew he had just earned more time as leader.

The demon avoided their watchful eyes as he called the bird-like creatures to him and ushered them into their cages.  Later, after a much needed rest, they would resume the chase.  Now that the trackers had done their jobs, they would be able to find their quarry wherever it ran.

There was no hurry.

~~~*~~~

“Giles, pull over.”

He looked at her quickly, not wanting to take his eyes from the road for long.  Focusing was becoming an issue.  “Willow, we need to get as far from those creatures as possible.”

“That’s just it,” she sighed.  “We won’t get anywhere but dead soon.  You’re...you’re a little tipsy,” she whispered.

He pulled a face.  “I’m perfectly capable of operating this heap.  The road is empty.”

“Look, you can either do it, or I can make ya.  I didn’t live through an attack of demons from a hell dimension, not to mention the First, just to die in a fiery crash while you hold onto some macho idealism of who should be driving the big penis mobile.  So pull over...now.”

The watcher’s eyebrows were reaching for his receding hairline but not quite making the long trip.  “A simple please would have been nice.”

“Oh...um, please,” she added with a lopsided grin, but he was already veering to the right and slowing to a stop.  Behind them the bus and van did the same.  “Let me just tell them what’s up so they don’t worry.”

The redhead hopped out, acknowledging his belated “be careful," with a nod and a dismissive wave.

Taking a deep breath, Giles extracted himself from the seat.  He considered joining Ethan, but leaving Willow and Cordelia to deal with two, soon to be three, vampires was not an option.  So he pushed the black drape to the side and step into the first sitting area, glancing at the spot that Wesley had unofficially claimed as his own only for a second before moving toward his own sofa bed.  Cordy was there now anyway, asleep finally after a long bout of moping.  Before he crossed the short distance Willow was back.

“Okay.  Ethan said he’s good to drive until sunset.  And Amy is driving the bus now so that Kyle can rest for a while.”

“Willow, are you sure you can drive this thing?”

“Well, if you can drive it after half a bottle of good ole...”  She picked up the bottle and read the label before tossing it to him and continuing.  “Johnny Walker, I think I can manage with my little bitty girly driving skills.”

Giles fumbled a bit before securing the thing in his grasp and sinking onto the sofa for a good long rest.

~~~*~~~

Dusk fell and she felt him before he spoke quietly in her ear.

“You look positively adorable driving this.  Such a tiny thing controlling all this power.”  He kissed the back of her neck.

She held back the grin.  “I’m angry with you... And Angel.”

He pulled away and slumped into the navigator’s chair, lighting a cigarette while everyone else slept and could not complain.  “Why’s that?”

“Oh!  You know why, Spike.  Angel turned him!  What’s gonna happen now?  We can’t find that orb.”

“Thought as much.  And nothing.  He’ll rise, we’ll control him.  No worries, pet.”  His tone was nonchalant, but he gazed out of the window, a look of concern darkening his blue eyes.

“What?” she asked.  He ignored her and continued to smoke, his hand steady despite his inner turmoil.  “What, Spike?  Now is not the time for secrets.”

“Nothing.  Just thinking about what happened when I woke up.”

“Wait.  Is he up?  Why didn’t you tell...oh,” she stopped, suddenly understanding what he meant.  This was awkward.  “You wanna talk about it?” she offered.

“That would be no,” he added with a wry laugh.  She had seen enough in this world to feed her nightmares for decades and he saw no need to add to it the tales of his induction into the family.  Somehow he did not think things would be the same for dear Wesley.  He did not know if he was angry or glad about that.

“Oh, okay.”  She wanted him to feel he could confide in her, but that would only come with time.  He had a century to learn distrust.

They sat in silence for a while, only speaking when he offered to drive and she accepted.  Instead of pulling over, she cast a small spell to keep the motorhome on course while she got up and Spike took over.

“It won’t be long now,” he admitted.  She only nodded and settled into the seat next to him for a nap.

~~~*~~~

At one time, the humans thought it was nuclear weapons that would end their world.  After the end of the supposed Cold War that never was an actual war, all sides began to disarm rather slowly and the people relaxed as much as they could while pursuing everything, but happiness.

Then it was germ warfare that became the flavor of the month, followed soon by its cousins, chemical and biological warfare.

But in the end, it was just good old fashioned evil that did them in.  The war between good and evil had been waged for eons and humans seemed to have forgotten about it altogether as a viable option.  Now they were all too aware.

Angel found that same war being waged inside of him, the urge to be evil being tempered by the compassion in his soul, as he gazed into the gold tinged eyes of his newest childe.  He wanted to take this creation and show him his true power, revel in the teaching of all that was his deathright.  The desire to hold him and apologize for the eternity of damnation was just as strong.  He did neither.

Wesley had yet to speak.  When he opened his eyes they immediately trained on Angel, the words sire, father, maker, god, beating in his head.   The vampire was staring at him, waiting, Wesley supposed.  He was very uncertain of a lot of things, one being how long he had been unconscious.  His arms, which had been torn to shreds, were now healed.  He held them up in the dim light and saw them perfectly.  They were perfect.  Not a scar or scab.

“Angel.”  He returned his awed gazed to the vampire before him, oddly overcome with a need to touch him that was ingrained to deep in him as to be painful.  He refrained and kept talking. “What’s happened?  Things are....strange.”

Angel did not know what he felt.  There was a relief that this seemed so much like his Wesley, but he knew that was false, just remembered mannerisms that would fall away as the demon took a more secure hold, and that to allow himself to be lulled by his quiet demeanor would prove detrimental to the humans with him.  Until Wesley got a soul, he was a danger.  Anything else was a lie.

“What do you remember?”

He pushed his bottom lip out while appearing to think on this.  “We were attacked by some bird demons.  I remember that.  And getting rather injured as well, which is the point of my question.  I’m all healed.  How long have I been out?”

Smiling slightly Angel replied.  “About 18 hours.”

“18...” he started, but trailed off as he glanced around the small room.  It was too well lit for the lack of actual lighting and there were sounds and scents that he could not identify, but felt familiar to him.  And he was experiencing a hunger so brilliant that it attempted to outshine everything else.  Only the brunette vampire staring at him seemed more vivid.  “Something’s very wrong, Angel.”

He was looking at his hand, marveling at the tiny blue veins that traveled up into his arm, his perfectly healed arm.  “Or maybe not,” he added, and began to frown as his new situation became apparent.

“How do you feel?”  Angel watched him closely for any sign that he would become violent or feral, but so far it seemed that British formality and politeness had survived the transition.

“To be perfectly honest, I’m rather hungry.”  The heartbeats coming from beyond the door were calling to him incessantly.  He was close to breaking.  “Have you tasted any of them, Angel?  Which one would I like best?”

~Part: 30~

She had a headache.  Not one of the mind-splitting ones she remembers getting after a vision, but it was annoying all the same.

Up front Spike was driving and Willow appeared to be asleep.  She was just particularly grateful that the vampire was occupied.  During the horror of watching her friend bleed to death, she had forgotten all her little trip into Wonderland and Spike’s lust-inducing attentions, but she had nothing to distract her from them now.  Even thinking about Wesley and how many levels of bad this situation was got tired.

There was nothing tired about Spike’s strong hands and soft lips.

Shaking her head to rid it of the ghostly sensations of him moving over her, she sat up as much as she dared. The throbbing got worse and she groaned.

Aspirin.

The bin of medicines and first aid supplies was in a cabinet in the bathroom, all put away, neat as you please, after failing to aid Wesley.  Gingerly, she slid her legs over the edge of the sofa and stood.  Spike gave no indication that he knew she was there, just a few feet behind him, but he was aware of her presence and she was aware of his.

The mutual ignoring was something to examine later.  For now, her mission was to alleviate the pain of monkeys dancing on her brain cells.

She found the plastic box just where she expected to see it and began rummaging through its contents, destroying the wholly useless order that the redhead had created earlier.  Eventually, it was apparent that there were no pain relievers, at least not here.   Walking slowly toward the cockpit, she sighed.  Willow probably needed sleep, but she was determined not let that or the tiny surge of guilt that tickled at her conscience stop her from waking the little witch to find out where she had hidden the good stuff.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  The question was accompanied by a hand that halted her from shaking Willow awake.

“Spike...” she gasped, startled.  Her heart raced as she pulled away from his cool grasp.  It was too pleasant for her liking.  “I have a headache,” she explained as he stared at her.

“And that has bugger all to do with what?” he asked, his eyes drifting back to the road in that lazy way he had of doing things.  It was deceptive, his languid appearance.  She did not think she had ever encountered a more energized creature.

“Willow’s hidden the pain killers.  I need something for this pounding in my head.”  And for the tingling in her belly.

He sighed.  “It’s the ‘shrooms, pet.  It’ll go away in a while if you let it be for a bit.”

“God, I hope so,” she mumbled.

He heard her, but was focused on the road...and her scent.  “You should eat something.  It helps.”

She frowned and sat on the rising between the two seats.  “And you would know how?”

“Oh, Dru kept lost of pets during the 60’s.  She liked getting high.  It was a phase.  Most times she forgot about them and I ended up taking care of the bloody things after she had her fun...until she broke them.”  He smiled a bit at that, despite the recoiling of his soul.

“Hey!  Are you having happy memories of murder and mayhem?”  Her scowl was accusatory.

“Well yeah...I’m not Angel, you know.  It’s not a curse. Did this to myself.”  He hated it when they expected him to be something other than a vampire.  He liked being a vampire, he just was not so much with the homicidal tendencies anymore.  He always felt it, an urge to slash and tear, to destroy for no other reason than his demon called for it, but the soul made it easy to resist.

“Well, don’t you get any ideas of reliving the glory days with your new family.”

He smiled at her naivety.  “You got me, pet.  Been playing with you lot all this time, and getting Wesley turned was all part of my diabolical scheme.”

“And we all know how well those turn out,” she retorted.

~~~*~~~

“I’m hungry.”

Words, gravelly and rough, echoed in Angel’s head as recalled a newly arisen William, confused, yet demanding to be given food.   His cock filled with blood as he pushed the memories away, too late to stop the wanting, but he felt vindicated by the attempt.

He gave Wesley’s question proper consideration and answered truthfully.  “Actually, I’ve only tasted you...and Giles once.  But they’re all off the menu.  Understand?”

Wesley pursed his lips.  “I understand no such thing,” he said, shifting to stand with motions that were swift and jagged, still unaccustomed to the body.   “I remember what you are.”

Angel remained where he was on the bed, outwardly calm.  Spike would have seen the ruse for what it was and been duly cautious, but Wesley was new and as much as the human may have known Angel, it was the Angelus factor that he could not account for.

“I’m your sire.  Nothing you remember about us from before will come before that.”

“So then you’re ready to take me hunting, sire?” he asked as he studied Angel.

“Not so much.  Besides, there's not much left to hunt these days.”

“Right...Apocalypse.  I seem to remember a bus full of children.  I should think a few of those would set me to rights.”

“Those are off limits too,” he sighed.

Wesley pouted.  He had not been totally unwilling to use it on Angel when alive, and many times the vampire had given in to the human solely on the merits of a good sulk, but the draw of the demon, his blood, made it so much worse...or better.

“Very well.  Let’s look at this from a purely logical angle.  Three vampires cannot survive on an ice chest of bagged blood for long.  Those humans are meant for us, Angel.  It’s why they found our little party.”

Angel laughed.  “You’ll have to do better than that, Wes.”

His new childe only shrugged and quickly stepped away from the door as it slid open.

Curious blue eyes darted from vampire to vampire.  “Well, well.  Sleeping Beauty has arisen.  How was it, mate?”

Wesley crept closer to Angel, but his eyes never left the blonde’s.  “I strangled the soul out of him.  You aren’t thinking of putting it back, are you?”

~~~*~~~

Nevada was dry and ugly and vast and boring.

Ethan remembered traveling this parched land after escaping the tender and loving clutches of the Initiative.  There was nothing redeeming about it this time around.  They were in a small town, it had no name that they could find, but there was a motel, empty of people and demons, and surprisingly, full of food and running water.

His shower was less than pleasant.  The water was cold and apparently not inclined to heat up.  Done with the necessities, he vacated the stall, dried off and dressed quickly.

There was a new vampire to see and he did not want to miss the fun.

“What has you so chipper?”  Giles stopped him as he exited the bathroom, humming a tune from his youth.

“Come now, Rupert.  Don’t tell me this isn’t exciting to you.  Being the consummate Watcher, to observe a new childe in the Order of Aurelius should be a huge thrill. Where’s your pen and paper?  I thought it was attached.”

Tossed against the wall, Ethan was not stunned and only grinned in response.  “He was a friend and now he’s an evil creature wearing his face and using his memories to manipulate us.  If you forget that little fact, you’ll find yourself on the business end of his fangs.”

The mage straightened up and stared at Giles.  “Almost sounds like you care, old man.  And if I thought for a minute that you did, I’d be off somewhere having a massive coronary, but you don’t, so I’m off to the zoo to see the demons instead.”

He left Giles, not looking back to see the _expression of guilt on his face, and headed toward the room where the undead had gathered.  He stood just outside the door, which was open, looking in at the scene before him.  The former watcher was tied to a headboard, looking very put upon, while Spike babysat, surfing the channels with a speed that no human could stand for long.

“Ethan Rayne,” Wesley greeted.  “How nice of you to drop in.”

Ethan took this as invitation enough and sauntered into the room.  “Hello, Wesley.”

“Wouldn’t get too close, mate.  He’s a bit peckish.”

“Do stop speaking as if I’m not in the room, Spike.  It’s insulting.”

Spike only grinned at him and took the opportunity to smoke a cigarette while Angel was off playing leader of the pack, giving orders to the others on who had what watch.  The blonde already had his orders. He was on soulless sibling detail which in his opinion was easy work that no one else was qualified to do.

“Now what can we do for you, Mr. Rayne?  I assume this isn’t a social call.”

“Call me Ethan, please.  And I’m rather ...curious, is all.  Rupert and I dabbled with the undead in our day, but this is a first.  For either of us I’d wager.  But he’s much too proper to come down here and see you for himself.”

“Is he upset, then?”  The smile on Wesley’s face shone through like a beacon underneath his façade of concern.  Spike thought he could get to like this demon.

“Wouldn’t presume to know his mind,” was the mage’s drab reply.

“Of course,” the new vampire nodded in understanding.  “You’re not...close anymore.   Terrible, that.”  Wesley frowned, looking away, and then met Ethan’s gaze again.  “So what is it you want to know?  How can I satisfy your curiosity?"

As Ethan sat on the bed within arms reach of the fledgling, Spike suppressed the urge to pull the man away and went about watching the television instead, intent on letting people learn the important lessons of life on their own.

“How do you feel?  What’s different?  Other than the raging bloodlust.”

“Well, it’s difficult to say.  I’m stronger.  I know this without evidence.  I can see things that were lost to me before.  I hear your heart as it pounds away excitedly, pushing the blood through your veins, and I know that if I can just get close enough it would be all for me.”  He watched through hooded eyes as Ethan shifted uneasily.  “And I smell everything, from the blood between dear Amy’s legs to your desire to know what this is like.”

“Know what what’s like?”  Angel asked.  “And why are you here, Ethan?  Spike, why is he here?”

“I’m not his bloody keeper, Peaches.  Just your new boy’s.  And don’t think I’ll be doing this forever.”

He ignored Spike's complaint in favor of clearing the room.  “Out.”  He gaze fell on the one who did not belong and Ethan took the hint.

“Thanks for the hospitality.”

“Please, do come again, Ethan.  I think I can help you understand.”

Aware of being toyed with, he left without replying.  Angel shut the door and whirled on Spike.  “What’s going on?”

“Relax, Peaches.  The man just wanted to chat up your boy here.  Think he’s one of those vampire groupies?”  The blonde’s mind quickly turned to the practical.  All willing humans were up for consideration when it came to feeding.

“No, he’s not.”

“Whatever.  I’m going.”

“Where are you off to?”  Angel asked.

“And can I come?”  Wesley chimed in.

“Out and no.  No offense, Wes, but the great pouf won’t be letting you go out without him at your side.  Like it or not, you’ve a big brooding caveman for a leash.”

Wesley glared up at Angel from the bed as the Spike slid the door closed, hard.  “You do realize that you're no fun.”

He frown after the blonde.  “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

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