Silently, Claire approached the looming mansion and noted the few windows that were covered by heavy drapes. < Must be the bedrooms, > she mused, adjusting her grip on the duffle bag in her hand. She had been scared for her friend's safety when Buffy had returned to the Magic Box last night and gave a pacing Bobby directions to get to what she called the Crawford Street Mansion. Darien had been injured and that was where Spike, Willow and someone named Angel had taken him. She had swung past the apartment on her lunch hour and had been surprised when it was obvious that no one had returned last night. Using the key that Willow had given her in case of an emergency, Claire had gathered a change of clothes for the odd family and after a brief call to let Eberts know where she was going, she had started for the mansion.
Hesitantly, Claire knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. She turned slightly to look at the neatly trimmed bushes that lined the front of the house and had to wonder who had been living here if it had supposedly been deserted since the gang had graduated from high school.
"Can I help you?" asked a deep voice behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. She whirled around to find a tall man standing there in just a pair of pants, his dark hair mussed from sleep.
"Yes, my name is Claire and I brought some clothes for Willow, Spike, Bobby and Darien," she said, holding up the bag as if offering proof that she really had a reason to be there. "They didn't return to the apartment so I thought it would be polite to bring them a change of clothes."
The man nodded and stepped back to let her in, being careful to stay out of the sunlight. Quickly, Claire slipped past him and looked around at the furnished house, surprised once more that everything was neat and clean. Who HAD been living here? The door closed behind her, the click of the latch deafening in the silent house, and she jumped, startled.
The man smiled in a comforting manner. "I'll take you to Willow," he offered before brushing past her to start towards the stairs.
Claire followed him, her eyes drawn to the tattoo that was inked across his right shoulder. It was a Celtic griffin balanced on top of a stylish 'A', and her mind flashed back to an entry in the Watchers' Chronicles that spoke of just such a tattoo that identified one of the vampires that was known as the Scourge of Europe and the one with the face of an angel. "Angelus." The name escaped her lips on a breath of air and he turned to look at her, confused. "I recognized the tattoo from some of my research in England," she explained, before clamping her lips shut and resolved herself not to say anything more.
Before he could confirm or deny her claim, there was a muffled shriek from the direction of the basement and a cold smile spread across the handsome face. "Excuse me a moment," he requested in a polite voice that did nothing to calm Claire's racing imagination. "I have a small problem to take care of."
"I'm coming with you," stated Claire, fearing the worse since the noise had come from a female throat. Could her friends be prisoners of this angelic demon? Her memory brought forth the many accounts of his deeds when he was running across Europe with his family before he was cursed with a soul, but Willow had told her how he had lost the soul once before. Had he lost the soul again and reverted back to his cruel ways?
He stopped and studied her for a few seconds before nodding. "I will warn you that this isn't going to be pleasant," he announced as he started down the stairs for the basement. Holding her head high, Claire followed Angelus down the stairs and stopped when he paused before a solid wood door. From behind the thick wood came the sound of clanking chains and whimpers, broken only by the occasional scream. With a cold smirk on his face, Angelus swung open the door and calmly strolled through as if he was walking down the street. Despite her bravery to face whatever it took to help her friends, Claire found herself hesitating at the door. Taking a deep breath, she mentally braced herself for the worse and entered the room only to stop in surprise by what she saw there.
Standing in the center of the room on her toes, was a blond woman whose wrists were chained to what looked like an iron chandelier that was right out of an old fashioned swashbuckling movie. Except in those movies, there wasn't a curtain of crosses hanging from the iron circle. The device was hung from the ceiling by a strong iron chain and any movement on the woman's part sent the crosses caressing her naked body, adding to the numerous burns already there. The crosses themselves seemed to shine in the dim light as if wet, and Claire watched with wide eyes as Angelus approached the woman.
"Now, lass, why are ye disturbin' our rest wit' yer screams?" purred Angelus, his voice adopting a thick Irish accent that sent both chills and waves of lust coursing through Claire. "I remember when ye had me in a similar position an' 'twas a good week 'fore ye heard me screams." He casually pushed aside the crosses, ignoring the burns he received from touching the holy objects and brushed a lock of blond hair out of the woman's face. "Ye know what ye have t' say if ye want t' be a guest again in me house." The woman glared at him and he sighed before turning away from the device to face Claire again, a small smirk on his face as he crossed to the door.
A faint memory tickled Claire's mind, like she should know who this woman was, but it remained elusive. "Who is she?" she asked, turning her eyes to the large vampire who paused next to her.
"Why don't we discuss this in a more comfortable surroundings," he suggested, once more in that calm voice that had greeted her at the door. "There are chairs in the living room and I can offer you some coffee or tea." Her eyes flickered to the woman < No, vampiress > and back but Angelus caught the motion. "Oh don't worry about Darla. She's not going anywhere for quite some time." Left with really no choice in the matter, not if she wanted answers to the questions that were buzzing in her head like an angry swarm of bees, Claire followed the large vampire back up the gloomy stairs and into the comfortable living room.
He waved her towards a couch while he vanished through another door and Claire sank onto the soft cushions, the forgotten duffle bag in her hand placed on the floor by her feet. The room was rather large but decorated with a scattering of comfortable looking chairs with another couch that looked large enough to fit five people easily on it. A few tables were placed next to certain chairs with a pair on each end of both couches, their dark wood adding a touch of class to the room which should have looked like a display floor for a furniture store, and there were enough lamps scattered around to illuminate the room for normal humans to see but not enough that it would be painfully bright for those with more sensitive sight. It was almost as if someone had furnished this room with the idea that large meetings would take place here and went out of their way to offer comfort for everyone.
The soft clink of china drew her out of her musings and she looked up to find Angelus standing there holding a cup of coffee out to her. "Thank you," she said, accepting the cup. He smiled and scooped up another mug that was resting on a tray that had been placed on a low coffee table and she realized that it was in such a position that anyone sitting in the room would be able to get to it easily. A sudden image of that table scattered with old books while the entire Scoobie gang sat in the various chairs flashed through her mind and she realized that all of them could easily fit into the room.
"I'm sure you have several questions that are bothering you," states Angelus as he casually sprawled in a nearby chair after exchanging his now empty mug for a cup of coffee. "You have my word that I will answer them to the best of my ability."
Claire sat up straight and fixed the dark vampire with a cool, professional look. "Very well. My first question is rather simple. Who am I talking to, Angel the Vampire with a Soul, or Angelus, the Scourge of Europe and the Demon with the face of an Angel?"
Those dark eyes seemed to stare deep into her soul and she managed to keep her face in the same professional mask that she had developed when dealing with the Agency, despite the fact that she felt like a bird staring into the eyes of a serpent. "Actually, thanks to Darien, there is no Angelus or Angel anymore. There is only me," he said as calm as if he was discussing the weather. "A vampire with the demon and soul merged into one." A small smile crossed his face. "It's rather nice now that I don't have to listen to the demon tempting me or fighting it for control." He cocked his head and regarded her, curiously. "Now I have a question for you. How do you know the titles that describe me in the diaries of the Watcher's Council?"
"My name is Dr. Claire Peyton and I am the great-granddaughter of Jackie Peyton of the Watcher's Council," she stated in a cool voice.
A smile spread across Angelus' face. "Ah, yes, I remember the delightful Miss Peyton," he purred. "Her slayers were rather well trained and put up quite the fight."
Claire nodded her head to accept the compliment to her ancestor. "Who is the woman downstairs and why is she there?"
"Her name is Darla and she was the Master's favorite childe and my sire at one time," explained Angelus, putting his coffee cup down on a nearby table and folding his hands across his stomach. "Y'see, when I first came to Sunnydale, it was to help the Slayer fight. Unfortunately, the soul took a bit of a liking to her, much to the demon's dismay, and when Darla tried to kill Buffy with a gun, the soul staked Darla in the back. A while back, a law firm known as Wolfram and Hart in LA decided that they wanted to 'acquire' Angelus for their pay role so they summoned Darla back from the depths of Hell where she had been sent. Except they brought her back as a human. My childe, Druscilla, turned Darla and now she is my grandchilde and thus under my rule. As for why she is downstairs, she attempted to stake me in the back, thus refusing the hospitality that I had graciously extended to her. So now she is learning her lesson."
There was a soft sound behind her and Claire turned around to find a rumpled Willow descending the stairs. The redhead stopped and blinked as if to clear her vision before smiling slightly at Claire. "Hi, Claire," she greeted, walking over to flop on the other couch. "What brings you around at this hour?"
Claire smiled gently at the girl who still looked half asleep. "Willow, it's nearly one in the afternoon," she gently chided before scooping up the duffle bag again and holding it out. "I brought everyone a change of clothes. Thought you could use them."
"Thanks, Claire," Willow said around a yawn as she took the bag. She then turned her gaze on Angelus. "So what have I missed?"
"Nothing much," replied Angelus with a shrug. "Dr. Peyton had some questions and I was happy to answer them for her."
Claire nodded in agreement. "There was just one question that I had not had a chance to ask yet." At his encouraging nod, she took a breath. "Who has been living here while you were in LA?" She waved a hand to include the mansion and the grounds outside of the closed windows. "This house is remarkably neat and clean despite the months of abandonment since you moved to LA, and the furniture can't be more than a few months old since there isn't any dust on the fabric nor is it faded from constant exposure to the sun." Her question caught Willow's attention, because the redhead sat up straighter and there was a wary look in her emerald gaze.
Angelus sighed softly. "Actually, since I had been told about the additions to my family, I have been cleaning this place up for Spike and his family to live if they chose," he confessed. He turned his head to look at Willow. "Giles told me that all four of you were living in that tiny apartment and I was hoping Spike would accept this as sort of a peace offering between us."
Willow seemed to think about that for a moment before nodding and scooping up the bag as she stood. "I'm going back to bed. Talk to you later." With that, she climbed the stairs and disappeared into a room. Claire smiled at the young woman's actions and how they reminded her of the Darien in her lab on a few occasions. Usually when he was recovering from Quick Silver Madness. < Thank whatever deity is listening that he doesn't have to deal with QSM anymore. >
Draining the last of her coffee, Claire glanced at her watch. "As much as I would love to stay and chat the afternoon away, I must get back to the Magic Box and help Rupert find out if there is a connection between the humans and the vampires that attacked Darien, Willow and Buffy last night," she announced, rising to her feet. "I certainly hope we can continue this conversation later when some danger isn't breathing down our necks." She holds out her hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Angelus."
Angelus stood and took her hand in a gentle grasp. "The pleasure was all mine," he replied, gallantly before escorting her to the door. "If you could have Buffy come over just before sunset, I would greatly appreciate it. Spike and I have an appointment with Willie this evening and Darien will need protection until this is over." A dark look appeared in those chocolate eyes and it sent a cold chill racing down Claire's spine. "They came too close to killing him last night and I won't take anymore chances with my family." *********************************************
Casually stretching under the cool satin sheets, Spike reached over to pull Willow's warm body closer only to find an empty spot where she had just recently been. A slight frown crossed his face as he opened his eyes to discover that she wasn't in the room, just before the door opened and Willow slowly entered with a duffle bag in her hand. She dropped the bag near the door and crawled back under to covers to curl up next to Spike, her head resting on his silent chest.
"Luv, what's in the bag?" Spike asked softly, enjoying the feel of her heat as it soaked into his cool skin.
Sleepy green eyes peered up at him before closing. "Claire brought clothes," she mumbled, snaking an arm around his waist to hold him close. "Was talking to Angel. He said house was cleaned up as a peace offering to you." With that, she dropped back to sleep while he was still processing everything that she had said. The Great Poof had spent money to clean up the decrepit old mansion as a peace offering to him? Shaking his head, he tried to fall back asleep but the idle question still kept swarming around his brain like a mosquito until he finally untangled himself from Willow's grip and went in search of his sire.
He descended the stairs to find Angel calmly sitting in the living room, staring at some distant sight that only he could see, and Spike casually sprawled on the nearby couch as he waited for Angel to return from whatever memory he was visiting. After several minutes of companionable silence, Angel blinked and focused on Spike, smiling slightly at the sight of the blond vampire dressed only in his jeans. "I would have thought that you would still be in bed with Willow wrapped around you."
Spike shrugged. "Couldn't get back to sleep," he confessed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "So what's the plan for tonight?" He'd bring up the house later, but right now he had an injured grandchilde upstairs and some unknown wankers outside who had tried their damndest to dust him.
"I thought Angelus and his Favorite Childe would pay a visit to Willie and see what he has heard about these new arrivals," remarked Angel casually. "And I think I know who the humans are really working for." He stared at Spike, his chocolate eyes flecked with demonic gold. "If I'm right, then a trip to England might be in order."
"Bloody hell! The Watchers," swore the peroxide blonde. "But why would they want to off Darien? I would have thought that a vampire that restores the souls to other vampires would be seen as an ally to them, someone to be used against the vampire populous."
The dark vampire shook his head. "If it's revealed that a vampire has a soul, then future slayers might be less than willing to kill them," he stated. "Plus, the wouldn't be able to use the 'soulless killers' description of vampires when training the slayers." He studied Spike, curiously. "Do you have any contacts other than Willie who might know what's going on?"
Spike shook his head. "Sorry, not too many demons are talking to me now that I'm fighting with the Slayer instead of against her," he replied, his tone casual. The good thing about his reputation was that not too many of the demons were willing to take him on despite his little arrangement with the Slayer. He stood up and made his way into the kitchen and casually pulled out a bag of blood before tossing it in the microwave to heat it. The soft padding of bare feet alerted him to the fact that his sire had decided to follow him in and he glanced over to find Angel pulling out two mugs and another bag of blood. "Willow told me that you fixed this place up as a peace offering to me. That true?"
"Yes," he replied, reaching out a hand to rest it on Spike's shoulder. "Giles called me to let me know when Darien and Bobby joined the family and when he told me about the small apartment that all of you were living in, I wanted to do something nice for you." He nodded towards the stairs. "Some of the rooms on the second floor and all the rooms on the third still need to be cleaned, but it's livable and it's yours. If you want it." That same small smile crossed his face again. "Even have an account set up to take care of bills and such."
"You think of everything, don't you?" chuckled Spike before draining his mug. He automatically rinsed it out before setting it aside to dry. "When should I be ready to leave?"
"Just a little after sunset. Buffy will be here before that to escort the others to the Magic Box."
"And Darla?"
A cruel smile graced Angel's face, making him seem more like his demonic counterpart. "She will be restrained until we arrive at the shop after our little interview with Willie," he replied. With that, he turned and left the room.
It was a few minutes before sunset that everyone gathered in the living room, ready for the evening's activities. Angel was clad in a dark wine velvet shirt and tight leather pants while Spike was wearing his normal attire. Darien was looking much better, but Bobby still refused to leave his side, even when Spike replaced the bloodstained bandage. Willow was clad in a pair of leather pants and a green silk shirt and Dru had put on one of her old dresses that had been left behind when she had first been dragged away from Sunnydale. Darla was once more in her small red dress, but her hands were cuffed behind her back and an iron collar encircled her neck with a chain descending from it like a leash. A knock on the door was the only warning they had before it opened and Buffy strolled in.
She stopped at the sight of Darla and Dru. "What are they doing here?" she demanded, fingering a stake, which had appeared in her hand.
"Darla and Dru wandered in here last night and I decided that they should stay until we get everything worked out," explained Angel, casually as he stood up and approached Darla who flinched away from him. "Unfortunately, Darla has been a very poor guest and must be taught some manners." Buffy looked at Angel and started backing away slightly. "Buffy?"
"How did you loose your soul again?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly as she continued backing away from the large vampire.
Spike smirked and fiddled with a cigarette in his fingers. "He didn't loose his soul, ducks," he drawled, enjoying the slight scent of fear that was coming from the blond Slayer. He nodded towards Darien, who was sitting in a chair. "Darien there accidentally secured it for good." An old hope flickers in her eyes before dying again, and Spike couldn't help but wonder what that hope was for,
Flipping her blond hair over a shoulder, Buffy regarded everyone before her with a professional glare. "All right, who is coming to the magic shop with me and Darien?"
"I am and so is Bobby," announced Willow, standing up from where she had perched on the arm of a couch. "Dru and Darla are coming as well. Angel and Spike will drop by after they head out to shake down a few sources." She casually scooped up the chain attached to Darla's collar and smiled at Dru who was humming a tune. "Dru, do you want to come and talk with the vengeance demon?"
"Pretty demon likes fireworks and stars," cooed Dru, picking at her skirt. "The fireworks explode and she gets all wet." Willow exchanged a confused glance with Buffy before shaking her head slightly to indicate that she didn't know what Dru was talking about. With a small smile, the redhead gathered Darien and Bobby up and gently escorted the still humming brunette out the door with Darla following behind her like a dog.
As the door closed behind then, Angel grinned up at Spike who couldn't help but answer that knowing smirk with his own cheeky grin. "So, m'boy, ready to announce ta th' demon world that Angelus is back an' not ta be trifled with?" Without waiting for an answer, Angel swept out the door with Spike on his heels, the cool night air brushing over them like a lover's caress.
Grinning, Spike watched as the humans tossed them appreciative looks while the demons gave them a wide berth, realizing that the Scourge of Europe was together again. He had missed this in the last century, and silently thanked anyone who might listen to a vampire's prayers that he had been given a second chance with his Sire. They strolled down the street, falling into a rhythm that they had perfected in their early days together and that not even the separation could force them to forget.
All too soon, they reached Willie the Snitch's place and casually entered with Spike a step behind Angel. Conversations ceased as the two vampires made their way up to the bar and every eye in the place was on them. Including those of the nervous man trembling behind the bar.
"Hello, Willie," purred Angel, leaning against the bar. "I have a few questions to ask you."