The Problem
By Esmeralda
Chapter Eleven
After being ushered out of the bedroom, Cordelia seated herself on the sofa, picking up one of the books Xander had left open. In between sniffles she was attempting to do some research. Xander went over to join her, when Spike suddenly tightened his grip, half-dragging him to the bathroom, whereupon he bundled him inside. Cordelia glanced up briefly, but she was used to this sort of behaviour from them and quickly returned her attention to her book.
"Hey!" Xander yelped as Spike walked him backwards to the wall. He froze as Spike pressed up against him, cold lips nuzzling his throat, while an icy tongue lapped at his pulse point. Xander felt light-headed as he breathed in the scent of his lover and felt the hardness of muscle beneath the soft leather. "Wh-what are you doing?"
"Dunno." Spike sounded almost as confused; though a little of his normal cockiness came through as he added, "But it feels good."
Xander wriggled, trying to squirm free. Spike growled and held him fast. Xander knew it was hopeless; he might be stronger, but he wasn't a match for his lover's strength. He whimpered - part panic, part pleasure - as Spike nipped along his jaw line. This was wrong wasn't it? This wasn't Spike.But it was, and his body knew it and responded accordingly. Even as he melted into the caress, Xander made one last valiant attempt. "I -I don't know if I can do this. You're not you," he whispered desperately.
"I don't know who I am." Spike's voice was tight and controlled; it held both hurt and anger. "Now shut up."
Xander shut up. He really couldn't do much else as Spike's mouth fastened over his, cool lips driving his apart, allowing an icy tongue to slip inside. Oh, god, he really. shouldn't . be . doing. this... but it felt so good. When his arms were released Xander was powerless to stop himself from pulling Spike closer. Strong, impatient fingers tore at his clothing; within seconds he was naked, a fully clothed Spike driving against him. Xander decided he really needed to remedy that. At first, stripping Spike proved slightly problematical; his clothes weren't so easily torn, fastenings had to be addressed. Xander struggled with his lover's coat, and then did battle with the jeans. However, Spike eventually got the message and assisted, though he did so without relinquishing Xander's mouth. Finally, Xander succeeded in getting his lover naked. He almost slid to the floor as the length of his lover's body covered his own.
Trembling, trapped between cold tiles and cool skin, Xander surrendered the last of his resistance. This was Spike. This was his lover's smooth, marble white body, marred only by century old scars. This was his lover's scent, sharp, spicy - blood overlaid with the taint of leather. This was his lover's taste, underlined by smoke and whiskey. Light headed with want, Xander succumbed to their combined assault, drinking in the hard, eager kisses. He thrust his tongue into Spike's mouth, mapping out that cool, moist cavern. Spike's tongue jousted his: each of them vying for control of the kiss.
Suddenly, Spike drew back. Xander moaned, bereft. Confused, he looked at his lover - Spike's gaze pinned him, eyes wild and a little crazy.
"Get on your knees."
The command, issued in a voice thick with desire, set Xander's heart pounding. The cadence of his breathing quickened as he slowly dropped to his knees. Spike's eyes never wavered from his face, their colour shifting from cobalt to blue-gold. Xander needed no encouragement to take Spike into his mouth; he all but grabbed his lover's slender hips and yanked him forward. Xander happily ran his tongue over the weeping tip, tasting the bittersweet fluid as it welled up from the slit. He suckled gently, summoning more. Spike's answering groan made his own erection twitch in response. Relaxing his throat, Xander took his lover in deep, gripping Spike's hips to prevent Spike from bucking too hard. He liked to think he'd got pretty good at this, Spike certainly seemed to appreciate his efforts. Xander didn't know what turned him on more - the act itself, or the knowledge that he was driving Spike out of his mind.
A sharp tug on his hair made him reluctantly draw back. Spike eased free and literally lifted Xander up, depositing him on his hands and knees on the bathmat. Suddenly clued in to what was coming next, Xander rifled desperately through the duster, drawing a well-used tube of lube from an inside pocket. He thrust it back at Spike. "Here." Thankfully, Spike responded to his breathless urging, smoothing the cold, slick gel into his body. Xander was more than ready; still, he couldn't quite prevent a gasp from escaping as two fingers replaced one. Barely a breath after Spike was pushing into him: hard, relentless, claiming him in one, brutal stroke that drove him down onto his forearms.
Xander moaned. He could feel Spike's desire merging with his own, their shared empathy almost overwhelming them both; he no longer knew where he ended and Spike began. Awash in sensation, he drove back against Spike, trying to take his lover in even deeper. Spike growled in response and began to pound into Xander: harder, faster - both of them needing the near savagery of this encounter. Xander could feel Spike's gracile body pressed against his back and buttocks, the cool satin of skin overlying whipcord muscle.
He met his lover thrust for thrust, chanting Spike's name between panting breaths, and when the end came he tumbled over the edge with lights exploding behind his eyes. His arms gave way and he collapsed forward with an "Oomph". Spike followed and Xander found himself pinned to the bathmat by 150 pounds of horny vampire. His sensitised flesh protested, and at his muffled exclamation Spike drew back, easing Xander into a sitting position. Spike appeared alarmed and wary. Gold eyes glittered catlike, slightly parted lips revealing rows of jagged ivory.
"Who the 'ell are you?" The accent was thickened with fear and mistrust.
Xander was almost relieved. Spike's easy acceptance of the situation had begun to unnerve him. "I'm-" he began, and then he stopped. How could he possibly begin to describe everything he was to Spike? He wasn't even sure there were words to cover half of it, so much had to be felt and experienced. "I'm yours," was all he could offer.
Spike frowned. "Mine?"
"Yours," Xander repeated, as he knelt up and shuffled forward. He hoped he knew what he was doing. He took Spike's hand - relieved that his lover let him - and placed it over his heart, then slid it upwards to cover the pulse point at his throat. "All yours," he reaffirmed softly. Xander was only guessing, but he had a pretty good idea what was freaking Spike out - aside from the impromptu make out session on the bathroom floor. Spike's vampiric nature had to be in chaos round about now, vying for dominance alongside human memories and Consort instincts. One craving blood, one recoiling from it, while the third demanded Xander be kept safe.
Xander knew it was up to him to show Spike that he could relax that brittle control; that he could let go without fear of hurting him. Xander wasn't afraid. He would never fear his lover - whether Spike was in his right mind or not. He smiled as long, cool fingers danced over his skin, and leaned in closer. Abruptly, Spike tumbled him into his lap. A brief pause, then slick, hot pain as fangs sliced into his throat. Xander felt himself hardening in response. His heightened awareness allowed him to feel the swell of heat as the blood rushed upwards, the burn and pull as his lover drank from him. He could smell the rich coppery scent as scarlet ribbons trickled down his chest. He tilted his head further back, granting his lover better access to the arc of his exposed throat.
He moaned in protest when Spike released him suddenly, but his complaints were quickly forgotten when Spike tore into his own wrist - proffering the bloody limb. Xander seized upon it with a hiss of delight. Spike returned his attention to Xander's throat, lapping almost delicately, while Xander gulped eagerly, the metallic tang bursting across his tongue.
Xander sat, cradled against his lover's chest, until Cordelia's voice cut short their too brief nirvana.
"Are you two coming out of there anytime this century? Only some of us need to use the little girls room."
Spike pulled back from Xander with a snarl. "Sod off-"
Xander reached back and clapped a hand across his lover's mouth. "We'll be right out, just give us a minute." He tried to stand but Spike held onto him. Xander managed to squirm around until he was facing his lover. "This isn't getting you fixed." He placed a bloody kiss on Spike's equally covered mouth. "I want you well again," he whispered, resting his forehead against Spike's.
Spike grinned and gave his hips a little shimmy. "I feel fine."
Xander groaned as Spike's cock brushed against his. "Oh yeah, you feel great," he mumbled, momentarily sidetracked. Then he remembered and drew back. "*No*. No more with the distracting sex." He scrambled out of his lover's lap and began to gather his clothing. "And quit ogling my ass." He glanced at his lover just in time to catch Spike's answering smirk. Clearly, Spike's brief attack of the heebies was already long forgotten. Xander hurriedly wiped his mouth on a towel before tossing into the hamper. He threw Spike's jeans at him. "Come on, get dressed. Cordy's imagination doesn't need clueing in with the naked visuals. "
Spike shrugged carelessly, but he put them on and stuck his feet into his boots before following Xander out. Cordelia first eyed Xander - who stood awkwardly balancing the rest of their clothing - then she looked at Spike - lingering on the exposed abs a smidgeon too long for Xander's liking, before giving her head s little shake and walking past them into the bathroom.
It wasn't until Xander heard the tug of the light cord that he realised he and Spike had been fooling around in the dark....
Chapter TwelveThey met Angel coming out of the bedroom.
"How is he?" Xander asked, not at all reassured by Angel's expression, which suggested the older vampire was barely holding it together.
"He's sleeping."
"Well, that's good, right? I mean, sleep is good. The restorative powers of goodly rest and all that." //and way to go with the nervous babbling//
Angel nodded distractedly. "I need to check back with Merl." He glanced back at the closed bedroom doors.
"Hey," said Xander softly. "He'll be fine. We'll watch out for him."
"He probably won't wake up for a few hours. I should be back before then. Lock the place down tight as soon as I've gone." Angel spared the bedroom one last anguished glance, before setting his features into a determined mask and moving into the main room. He handed Cordelia his cell phone and the phone book. "Get yourself a taxi and a flight. I want you out of L.A. as soon as it's light."
Cordelia protested. "You don't need to do the overprotective chivalrous thing you know. I might not be little miss 'all you can slay Buffy', but I can take care of myself. You don't have to pack me off every time something terrible comes knocking."
"This isn't something terrible. This is something personal. Darla's going to come after everyone I care about." Angel's voice dropped as he added, "I don't want to see you hurt."
Cordelia sighed and took the phone and the book. "I guess my namesake won't mind an out of the blue visit from her favourite niece."
Xander raised an eyebrow. "You have an aunt Cordelia?"
"Great-Aunt," Cordy corrected. "She's a new age nut, but-" a smile spread across the young woman's face - "she has a great condo and a convertible."
While Cordelia made her arrangements, Xander walked Angel to the door. He caught hold of Angel's arm on the threshold. "Be careful."
Angel brought his hand up to cup Xander's cheek, Spike growled and took a step forward, and then stopped, looking confused. Clearly, he was uncomfortable with this show of intimacy, but his own feelings for his Sire and his Consort left him in disarray. Angel dropped his hand and rumbled a wordless reassurance to his childe, who whined softly and cocked his head to one side. Xander took Spike's hand and drew his lover into his arms; Spike didn't resist and Xander offered a brief, comforting hug before setting about securing the various locks and charms.
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Angel stared about the room, a scowl etched upon his features. To the undiscerning eye, Merl's place looked no more or less habitable than usual; however, Angel had noticed several key items that were conspicuous by their absence - chief amongst them being Merl himself. The demon informant had evidently fled, which was bad news first and foremost because it meant that Angel would be unable to beat anything useful out of him. Secondly, it meant that Merl was more afraid of who he would be informing on than he was of Spike and Angel.and that was bad, that was very bad.
Angel decided to retry his other contacts, this time seeking Darla. He was quite. 'persuasive' in his attempts, but it soon became apparent that they had nothing to tell him. Angel didn't know what else he could do and an unwelcome feeling of helplessness stole over him. He had no one left to ask and no idea where to look. He returned to the apartment and tried to bolster Xander's spirits, while his own sense of hopelessness grew.
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Next morning saw a teary eyed Cordelia leaving to catch her flight. She kissed Doyle's forehead, hugged Angel and Xander, waved goodbye to Spike, and instructed them to 'dust Darla's skinny skanky ass.' Once she had gone things fell into a sort of strained routine. It consisted of lots of sleep and quiet time for Doyle, and virtual house arrest for Spike and Xander. As the former grew increasingly more morose and moody, a despondent Xander began to lose hope.Angel took to the streets each evening, desperate to find Darla and the Aruubus. The sight of his lover's tortured body, Xander's fear, and Spike's confusion all but crushed him, weighing him down with guilt and despair.
Chapter ThirteenFour days later…
Doyle clutched the doorframe and drew in a shaky breath. He hurt. Oh, God, he hurt; but he was determined to do this. He hadn't even been able to take a piss on his own for three days, he had to find his feet, get his mobility back. For all the hushed whispers and Angel's insistence that he shouldn't worry, Doyle knew that the problem with Spike was still unresolved. Doyle had an idea that his current incapacitation was only adding to matters. Angel was tearing himself up inside because he wanted to stay close, but to do so meant failing Spike and Xander. Fuck, what a mess.
He slowly released the death grip he had on the doorframe, and took an unsteady step forward. He was reminded just how fast a vampire could move when his lover seemed to materialize beside him.
"You shouldn't be up." Angel's voice was soft and gently chiding.
Doyle grit his teeth, both against the pain and Angel's mother-henning. "I'm fine."
"You need to get back into bed. What did you want? I'll get it."
It was on the tip of Doyle's tongue to shout that he just wanted to take a piss without Angel having to hold a bottle for him, when he looked up - and almost flinched from the pain in his lover's dark eyes. Angel was hurting - hurting because he was hurt. His irritation bled away and his gaze softened. "I wasn't plannin' anything extravagant. I just thought I'd spoil myself with a trip to the little boy's room. Maybe clean up a bit." //If I can stay standing for that long. // Doyle was trying hard not to fall flat on his face in front of his lover, something that certainly wouldn't earn him a bathroom pass. He couldn't quite prevent the bitterness from creeping into his voice. He was so tired of hurting all the time.
Angel reluctantly agreed. "Okay, but don't lock the door and shout if you need me."
"Will do," Doyle promised, though shouting was hardly necessary when your lover could hear your heart beating.
Taking small, but increasingly steady steps, he made it to the bathroom - closing the door on Angel's worried gaze. He stumbled over to the sink and gratefully clutched the basin's cool sides. With some trepidation he faced his reflection. Fuck. No wonder Angel was unhappy at him being up and around. He hadn't looked this bad when his marriage had ended and he'd gone on a month long bender. His skin had surpassed its usual striking pallor, going instead for a shade of sickly grey, underscored by the dark shadows ringing each eye. The swelling had gone down and the bruises had faded, but they'd left behind a sort of mottled hue of blues, yellows and purples. His hair hadn't been washed for a few days, giving it standing powers all of its own; tufts jutted out at odd and somewhat alarming angles. Five miles of bad road had nothing on him; road kill was closer to the mark.
Moving stiffly, he first took care of business (which beat using a bottle any day of the week.) His broken bones were all but healed, however they remained tender and he fumbled with the taps before running a little warm water into the bowl. After freshening up he brushed his teeth - relieved to find he still had them all. Finally, he took the opportunity to run the electric razor over his face. It didn't take very long; being half-Brachen meant he didn't get much of a five o'clock shadow. He'd spent maybe ten, fifteen minutes tops, but he was beginning to think that maybe he'd overdone it when he looked down and the floor appeared to be shifting beneath his feet. He rubbed his eyes; nope, not the floor. Doyle stared, alarmed at what appeared to be white mist circling his ankles. Oh, please, God. Not a vision. Not now.
Doyle felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the mist began to move upwards, winding its way around his legs. Okay, so maybe not a vision then. "Hey.uhm, Angel, I think maybe you should get in here-" The door flew open before the last word had even left his mouth. Doyle looked at his startled lover. "Angel?" His bewildered entreaty was met with a desperate lunge as Angel attempted to lift him free of the enveloping shroud. Almost as though he'd touched an electrified fence Angel was repelled backwards, thrown bodily across the floor. Doyle watched as Spike and Xander appeared and assisted his stunned lover to his feet. The mist now brushed his face.and something else was happening.
Doyle looked down and swallowed hard against the panic rising in his throat. There was no longer a solid floor beneath his feet; instead it appeared to be a dark, swirling chasm. Doyle had a very bad feeling about this. He glanced up again - just in time to meet the shocked gaze of his lover - and a fraction of a second before he felt himself falling and the world turned black.
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"Doyle!" Angel's desperate cry rang out as his lover abruptly disappeared before his horrified gaze. He raced forward, but Doyle, the mist, and the shadowy rift had all vanished.
Angel sank to his knees.
Xander couldn't quite believe what he'd just witnessed. He approached the bathroom warily. Standing over Angel, he lay a hand on a broad shoulder. He could feel the tremors wracking Angel's frame. "Where..where did he go?"
Spike stood, clutching Xander's arm, as if he feared that Xander too would suddenly vanish. He was uncharacteristically silent; what he'd seen way outside his current comprehension.
"A portal spell," said Angel dully. "Someone cast a portal spell."
Xander was unnerved by Angel's shocked state. "So where did he go?"
Angel shook his head. "I don't know."
Xander began to panic. Angel wasn't just desolate - he was broken. He crouched down beside his friend. "Hey, come on, snap out of it. We have to find him. How do we find out where he went?" When Angel began to shake his head again, Xander seized hold of his shoulders and shook him. "All right, enough. We have to find him. Think. How can we find out?"
The blankness seemed to lift from Angel's expression. He looked at Xander, and then stood up.
"What? You've thought of something?"
"Maybe," Angel muttered. He practically ran toward the stairwell, snatching his coat from its hook. "You two stay here-"
"Uh, uh. No way," Xander declared adamantly. "Who knows how many more of those magic mist thingies are floating about. We're with you."
Angel nodded. "Come on then."
Chapter Fourteen"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Xander nervously.
Angel didn't answer straight away. He completed the incantation and looked toward the door as it appeared, marking the entrance to the Oracles chamber. He turned to face Xander. "You want Spike back, I want Doyle back. This is the only way."
Xander offered Angel a faint, unhappy smile. "I know. I get it. I.I just don't want to lose you too."
Angel glanced at Spike, who stood against the wall glowering. "You won't," he assured Xander softly. He gave Xander's arm a gentle squeeze. "Take care of him." Xander nodded, and Angel stepped through the doorway.
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He wasn't overly surprised to find them waiting for him.
The male aspect wore his usual disdainful expression. "Why have you come?"
"Do you have a gift for us?" the female aspect enquired.
Angel held out his offering. The male ignored him, but she smiled in obvious delight and raised her hand - the statuette flew into her grasp.
"It pleases us," she informed Angel; her voice was stately, but her face showed almost childlike pleasure in the gift as she clutched it to her chest.
"We will not help you," the male coldly announced.
"I haven't asked for anything yet," said Angel, trying to remain polite. He reminded himself that these creatures were almost omnipotent and pissing them off wasn't, therefore, a good idea.
"You wish to know the whereabouts of the Messenger."
Angel wondered if they'd read his mind, or if they just knew everything. He nodded.
"We cannot tell you."
Angel felt his temper flare. "But you know?"
"We did not say that," said the female softly.
//No // Angel thought darkly //but you sure as hell implied it. // He schooled his features into something approaching calm and tried to clear his mind, just in case they were reaching into his thoughts. "I need Doyle. How can I operate without him? I need his visions."
The male gave him a bored look. "We can bestow the gift upon another-"
"-No," Angel cut in, more sharply than he had intended. "I.I work well with Doyle."
"That is of no interest to us."
Angel decided he wasn't getting anywhere being polite. Time to make a point. "You want me to work for you? Then give me back Doyle. Otherwise forget it."
This time it was the female aspect that fixed him with a cold, flat stare. "You would refuse the tasks you were brought back to undertake?"
"Yes."
The male's eyes narrowed. "Then you would be returned from whence you were summoned."
Angel met their displeasure with a sharp look. "I'd be sent back to hell, right. Fair enough. Do what you have to. I won't do this without Doyle."
The pair exchanged an unreadable glance. The female turned back to him. "The Messenger means that much to you?"
"He means everything to me," said Angel vehemently.
The male aspect shook his head and turned to leave; he held out an arm to his sister, who ignored him to approach Angel.
"This, 'love'," she mused. "It is a strange and powerful emotion."
Angel didn't say anything. She walked around him and her hand briefly touched his; Angel felt something being pushed between his fingers. He met her gaze, which had softened from its usual haughty demeanour. He discreetly palmed whatever it was she had given him.
"We do not desire another champion. Now go," she told him. "You risk our disapproval." She swept back over to her brother; this time she accepted his arm. However, as the pair faded away through the archway she bestowed a secretive smile over one perfect shoulder.
Angel didn't have time to examine what was in his hand before he found himself flung back through the portal. Spike and Xander met his arrival with twin expressions of surprise, though Xander's quickly turned to dismay.
"They wouldn't see you?"
"They saw me."
"But you only just went in," Xander sounded bewildered.
Angel shrugged. "That's just the way it works."
"So what did they say?"
Angel's mouth set in a grim line. "They know where he is."
"But they wouldn't tell you, right?" Xander guessed, correctly interpreting Angel's dark look.
"She gave me this." Angel held up what was in his hand. It was a calling card.
"She gave you her card?" Xander asked, incredulous.
"It's not hers."
Xander took a closer look at it. "She's sending you to a lawyer?" The card read 'Wolfram and Hart', attorneys at law. "Wolfram and Hart? Who are they?"
"I think they're our answer."
"Then what are we still hangin' about this bleedin' hole for?" Spike groused irritably. He couldn't read the card, but he knew lawyers and he didn't trust them, not one bit.
Chapter Fifteen"So what's the plan?" Xander tried not to sound impatient, but the clock was still ticking on Spike's memories.
"We find ourselves a lawyer, ask some questions, get some answers," said Angel bluntly.
"*Ask*?" Xander felt vaguely disappointed.
Spike grinned evilly at him. "There are lots of different ways of askin' someone summat, Pet."
Xander failed to quite suppress a shiver, hearing that affectionate term without its usual rough warmth. "Do you think they'll know anything about the Aruubus?" he asked hopefully.
"If they do, we'll find out," said Angel simply.
"So. Can I help?"
Angel glanced at him, his gaze thoughtful; he nodded. "You can help."
Xander wondered if he should be worried about the happy little buzz that prospect gave him.
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They arrived at the offices of Wolfram and Hart an hour or so before dusk. It was pretty unremarkable to look at - just another looming tower of glass, steel and concrete.
"Do we wait?" Xander asked.
Angel didn't answer; turning the Cadillac sharply, he drove toward an underground car park.
"I'll take that as a no," Xander muttered. At least it was a cloudy day. They stopped twenty feet or so from the entrance. The buildings on either side cast the whole area in deep shadow; all the same, Angel and Spike drew their coats over their heads and walked quickly. They concealed themselves behind a large concrete pillar just inside the entrance. Directly ahead was a ramp leading down to the first level. At the bottom was a security guard's hut. A uniformed man sat inside reading a newspaper; nothing very unusual about that, what was less usual was the tall-cloaked figure standing directly behind him.
Spike suddenly tilted his head and sniffed the air; he growled, his features shifting, lips furled back baring his fangs. Angel acted quickly; he took a firm hold of Spike's chin and drew his childe to face him. "Will, you have to calm down," Angel commanded softly. "You need to keep a clear head, okay?" When Spike just blinked at him Angel grunted in exasperation before briefly shifting into his own game face. Drawing a fang across the fleshy base of his thumb he pressed it to Spike's lips; the younger vampire instantly closed his mouth over the wound.
Xander watched all this wide-eyed. He surmised that Spike's freak-out probably had something to do with the giant Jawa. He rubbed the nape of Spike's neck, knowing it would help to calm his lover. "What's wrong?" he hissed.
"Furataugh demon," Angel explained, now back in human guise. Spike was also slowly regaining control - blue eyes emerging from behind the gold. "They detect other demons. They're sometimes used to hunt them."
Xander looked at his lover, who was now lapping at the thin stream of blood trickling down Angel's wrist. "Spike's run into them before?" he guessed.
"We both have."
"I take it the outcome wasn't fun?" Xander subconsciously moved closer to Spike, who nestled back against him.
"Let's just say I'm in no rush to re-exchange pleasantries," said Angel.
"So what do we do?"
Angel thought. So did Xander.
"You said they can detect demons?"
Angel nodded slowly, and then shook his head as he caught Xander's meaning. "You're a Consort. I don't know what it might sense from you, and the guard's probably armed."
"I wasn't planning on challenging them in armed combat. I only need to get close enough to give the guard this." Xander held out his hand. In the center of his palm was a small spherical object; it looked like a large green marble. Judging from Angel's expression, the vampire had recognized it as a beshulaa globe - a sort of charmed gas grenade, very useful against demonic entities.
"Where did you get that?"
"Spike. He said it was for emergencies. I think this probably qualifies. Don't you?" Xander grinned.
Angel wasn't so confident. "Maybe it would be better if we wait until someone leaves. We can tail them home, pick them up there."
"We don't have time," Xander insisted. "Besides, who's to say these guys won't have their own personal demon-proof security system."
It was a valid point, but still Angel hesitated.
Xander was getting impatient. "So, will this work on a Furat-whatever you called it?"
"I don't know," Angel admitted.
"Then wish me luck."
"Xander, wait." Angel's urgent whisper went unheeded as Xander darted out from behind the pillar and jogged down the ramp. Angel swore and grabbed Spike's collar, holding his Childe back when Spike would have blindly followed. Spike whined and tugged until Angel shook him and growled a warning. Spike's expression turned sullen, but he stopped struggling. They both watched anxiously.
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Xander tried to appear casual as he approached the guard's hut. "Er, hi." He smiled nervously. The man set down his newspaper and glowered at him.
"What do you want, kid?"
"I erm.found this." Xander briefly held out the globe, careful not to allow either the guard or the demon to get a good look at it. He pretended to take another look at it himself. "It says it's the property of Wolfram & Hart, so I just thought maybe I should drop it off in person. You know, in case there's a reward or something." He shrugged. "It looks kinda valuable. I'm betting someone's really pissed they've lost it."
The guard was leaning forward, trying to get a better look at the globe through his security screen. The demon didn't move and Xander was suddenly stuck by the thought that he wasn't supposed to be able to see it, and had he still been fully human, he probably wouldn't have been able to. With that in mind he did his utmost to ignore it.
The guard's curiosity soon won out. "Let me see it," he instructed.
Adopting his most innocent expression, Xander slipped the globe through the small opening in the security screen. He watched the guard pick it up.
The guard turned the globe over and over in his hand. "Hey, this doesn't say anythi-"
"Bang," Xander whispered. The globe was enchanted to respond to his command. It exploded silently, sending out a steady stream of thick green smoke. The guard collapsed instantly. The demon flexed its claws, shuffled forward a step... and than sank limply to the floor. Xander released the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you, Q," he muttered in his best James Bond voice. He summoned a cocky smirk as Spike and Angel rejoined him. "Hey, what d'ya know. It actually worked." Xander was more than a little used to his plans backfiring - he'd almost expected the demon to be invulnerable to the smoke, and he wasn't about to admit how grateful he was to have been wrong.
"Good work," Angel admitted. "But no more Lone Ranger stuff, okay? Just because you don't have an Aunt Cordy, doesn't mean that I won't lock you in you room until all this is over."
"Yes, Dad."
Angel shook his head despairingly and hiked Spike back by his collar; his childe was straining to get to the security hut, growling at the fallen Furataugh.
"Spike." At the sound of Xander's voice, Spike stopped struggling and fell silent. "Come here." Xander held out his hand. Angel relaxed his grip; Spike wriggled free and took Xander's hand, whining softly.
Angel tried to hide his concern. Spike was showing a growing propensity toward such feral behaviour, as his natural command over his wilder inclinations became more and more fragile. It was as if the mortal Will simply couldn't cope with what was going on and had surrendered control to the demon. Fortunately, Xander seemed unfazed by it. To Angel it served as a further reminder that they were running out of time.
In the event, 'collecting' a lawyer proved easier than they had anticipated. They found a suitable candidate unlocking the door to an expensive looking Mercedes. His blandly handsome face barely had a chance to register shock as Angel swept down upon him, grabbing him - none to gently - and hauling him off to the Cadillac. His frightened squawks were reduced to strangled moans when the sight of Spike's golden eyes closed his throat in terror.
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Angel drove; Spike and Xander sat either side of their terrified 'guest'. They left the city behind them, finally stopping the car on a deserted stretch of track just off the road."Okay, kiddies. Everybody out." Angel waited until Xander had clambered out before dragging the terrified lawyer out by his leg, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground.
The lawyer had found his voice again. "M-money? Do you want money? I-I have money. Here, take it. Take it all." He fumbled for his wallet, opening it to reveal an impressive number of bills before tossing it toward them, desperation screaming in every move.
"Gee," said Angel thumbing through the bills. "This is an awful lot of cash to be carrying around. I guess Wolfram & Hart must pay really well. Tell me, what kind of work does a guy have to do to earn this kind of money?"
"Wh-what?"
"Work - what do you do?" Angel's face was cold, his voice deadly: the threat behind the apparently innocuous question implicit.
"I.I'm a lawyer. I practice law. Real estate." He glanced nervously at Spike who was crouched beside him. Spike snarled and bared his fangs. The man jumped and flinched back. "He's a.a.a-"
"-Vampire." Xander supplied helpfully.
The man nodded, staring transfixed at Spike. Obviously, Wolfram & Hart was not your run of the mill law firm if one of its employees could recognize the undead and not be too taken aback by its existence - terrified yes, surprised no.
"I guess you're probably wondering why we brought you out here." Angel waved his arms to encompass the surrounding dirt track. "The thing is, we've been having a few problems." Any one who knew Angel would recognize that his conversational tone meant trouble. Angel pinned the shaken man with a hard look. "And we think you're just the fellow to help us out."
"I.I. d-don't understand."
Angel hunkered down, putting his face close to the lawyer's. "How about I make it nice and clear for you. An Aruubus - I think your people set it onto us. I want to know where it is." His features shifted. Gold eyes glared balefully. "Or I crack open your bones and start feasting on your marrow."
The man looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. He pressed back against the Cadillac whimpering in terror, eyes darting helplessly between Spike and Angel, looking for an escape. His desperate gaze fell on Xander.
Xander shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm with them." Devilment made him turn to Angel and add: "Never had marrow, what's it like?"
"Sweet," said Angel softy. "Very sweet."
Spoken like a man who knows, Xander thought with a faint shudder.
"I did a troubadour once," Angel recalled. "Back in the day. Started with his toes and worked my way up to his skull." He rapped his knuckles on the lawyer's head for emphasis. "He lasted for most of the night. How long do you think you'll last?"
Xander decided to join in. "My guess is not long. All that snapping, cracking and sucking." He pulled an 'eeuw' face. "That's got to be pretty painful, yes siree."
The lawyer looked like he might faint or throw up - in either order.
Spike growled, a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat.
The man whimpered. A damp patch appeared, spreading across the front of his trousers.
Xander looked on impassively. He thought of Spike, he thought of Doyle, and he failed to dredge up any sympathy whatsoever for the man cowering in the dirt.
"The Aruubus?" Angel repeated.
The lawyer closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He re-opened them and nodded. "I'll.I'll tell you, just please, please, don't kill me." His voice held a whiny desperation.
"Talk," Angel ordered.
The man talked. "The senior partners, they.they wanted to distract you. You kept interfering in things. Some major plans went wrong because you got involved."
"Plans? What plans? I've never had any dealings with Wolfram and Hart."
"Maybe not directly, but we don't always advertise our presence. Some matters are carried out... ah... discreetly, and no one knows we were involved."
"So no one can trace back the effect from the cause," said Angel grimly.
"I don't get it," Xander interjected. "I mean, no offence" - he glanced at Angel - "but why all this effort just to distract you? Why not dust you, get rid of the problem permanently?"
Angel appeared equally interested in the lawyer's explanation.
"They can't kill you. There's some sort of ancient apocalyptic prophecy. I don't know the details." The man raised his hands at Angel's dark look. "Please, I'm telling you the truth."
"Now there's something I never thought I'd hear a lawyer say," Xander muttered. "Least, not so I'd believe him."
It appeared that Angel believed the lawyer too. Terror could be a powerful truth serum. He nodded for the man to continue.
"The senior partners don't want to interfere with the prophecy."
"So they brought Darla back to do what? Mess with my head? My curse? What?"
"D-Darla?"
"Don't play dumb." Three little words that promised a world of hurt.
The lawyer caved. "Yes, all right. We brought her back. Only I-I had nothing to do with it. The decision was made way above me. The ones that did it.they used some kind of summoning spell, really powerful stuff. All I know is, she was supposed to distract you. They even brought the crazy one in on it, to bring her over again."
"What?"
Something in Angel's tone made the man hesitate; a growl from Spike got him talking again. "Darla, she - The spell. It brought her back human, so they got the other crazy one to change her."
"Crazy?" Xander felt his stomach tighten surely he didn't mean-
"-Drusilla, that's what they called her. Drusilla, yes, that was it." The man sounded both pleased and relieved to have remembered.
Angel seemed shaken by this latest development. Xander thought maybe he understood why. Angel seemed to regard the whole 'turning' thing as a pretty major deal. From what Xander could gather, Angel hadn't exactly gone big on newbie-vampire making during the last two centuries; Penn, Drusilla, and Spike were apparently it. Then there was the fact that Angel had only ever known Darla as a vampire. The idea that she had been a living, breathing woman - however briefly - must be more than a little unsettling.
Xander was feeling somewhat shaky himself. Drusilla had turned Darla? That meant Darla could have been spying on them for months - certainly since before Drusilla had taken her tumble into the Hellmouth. That was just too creepy. Not to mention hearing Drusilla's name, without even a flicker of recognition from Spike, was just plain weird. All in all, Xander had a severe case of the wiggins.
The lawyer continued to babble, clearly too blinded by terror to pick up on the dangerous undercurrents. "She was supposed to seduce you, keep you from interfering. But she said something wasn't right. They brought in a shaman, to 'read' your curse. He said it had been changed, that your soul had been secured. She just went nuts, ranting and raving. They couldn't keep a check on her anymore. She took off. We've had nothing to do with her for weeks."
Angel's gaze narrowed. "You're telling me you don't know where she is?"
The man shook his head. "I don't."
"He's lying." Xander wasn't sure how he knew. He just knew. The faintest change in infliction in the man's voice, the increased rate of breathing, the sharp escalation in the acrid scent of fear. A quick glance told him both his companions had sensed it too. Spike's steady rumbling growl took on a more threatening note and Angel's cold, humourless smile turned truly nasty as he morphed into his vampiric visage.
In flurry of motion, Angel suddenly shot forward, seizing the lawyer by his throat. The man struggled uselessly, legs dangling, hands clawing at Angel's fingers. Golden eyes banked with rage regarded the lawyer with murderous calm. "Let's have the truth now shall we."
Xander placed a hand on Spike's shoulder, holding his snarling lover back with a simple touch. He recognized that Spike wasn't exactly in control right now, and as gratifying as it might be to unleash him, the lawyer wouldn't be able to tell them anything if he was scattered about in itty bitty pieces.
Angel squeezed slightly. The man's eyes bulged. Angel maintained his grip for a fraction longer.and then let go. The man dropped to the ground, noisily sucking air into his oxygen-deprived lungs. Xander watched dispassionately.
"B-beach.house," the lawyer croaked. "The rumour is, Lindsey's got her stashed in his beach house."
"Lindsey?"
"Lindsey MacDonald. One of the junior partners. A real slick asshole. Stupid son of a bitch thinks he can do whatever he likes."
"Where's this beach house?"
The lawyer told them. He also told them that Mr. MacDonald had it so bad for Darla he'd do pretty much anything for her - including enlisting the aid of the company's demonic resources.
"He got her the Aruubus." Angel guessed.
"Probably." The lawyer had a ring of finger shaped bruises rising round his throat. He massaged them gingerly. "We've got one on the payroll."
Xander couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Pay roll? You're paying one? You know where it is?"
Despite his obvious fear, again the lawyer hesitated; apparently loathe to divulge any more of his company's secrets. Before Angel could intercede, Spike sprang forward. The younger vampire pinned the terrified man to the ground and with a growl he brought his fangs to the already abused throat. The man emitted a high-pitched shriek as Spike sank his teeth into the exposed skin, gnawing at it a little. When he drew back his mouth was spattered with gore.
Xander crouched down and addressed the nearly insensible man. "Okay, this is how it is. We want the Aruubus. Now you can make yourself useful and give him to us. Or you're tonight's entrée" He nodded toward Spike meaningfully. "The choice is yours."
Sobbing brokenly, the lawyer told them everything. It seemed that the Aruubus could be summoned whenever Wolfram & Hart required the use of its 'talents'.
"How does this summoning work?" demanded Angel. "And don't try telling me you don't know."
The lawyer got to his knees. With a shaking hand he drew a crude circle in the dirt, and then intersected it with seven strange symbols. He looked up at Angel uncertainly. "You want that I should do this now? Summon it here?"
Angel threw open the Caddy's trunk and took out a bastard sword and an axe. He handed the latter to Xander. Then he motioned for the lawyer to continue. "Go ahead."
Xander wasn't certain what language the lawyer was mumbling. Latin maybe? He just hoped the guy had retained enough brain cells to do this right. The man finished chanting. Xander waited. Nothing happened. His fingers tightened convulsively around the axe handle. He opened his mouth to snarl something at the lawyer - suddenly eager to try out the sharp edge of his blade.
Angel shook his head. "Easy. Just wait a minute."
Spike whined and moved closer to Xander as the air around them suddenly seemed to energize, as if it were electrically charged. It felt like an approaching storm. Xander felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickle.
"Step back," Angel cautioned, moving away from the circle.
Xander followed suit, Spike remained glued to his side. The lawyer scrabbled backwards. Suddenly, there was a bright flash. Xander raised his free hand to shield his eyes from the glare. When he lowered it the circle was no longer empty.
The Aruubus regarded them warily, yellowed talons held aloft and ready.
"Tell it to step out of the circle."
The lawyer obeyed Angel's order. "Genfaa bemna mushca."
Still wary, the Aruubus shuffled out of the circle. Then it blinked, comprehension dawning as it recognized Spike from the alley. With a shrill whistling cry it charged forward, launching a swift.and ultimately brief attack. Angel's sword completed its arc and Xander watched the Aruubus' head roll away into the dirt. The creature's trajectory carried it forward to land in a crumpled heap beside the hysterical lawyer; its severed neck still spewing brackish coloured blood across the ground. For one brief, frozen moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, almost as one, Angel and Xander turned to look at Spike.
Spike stood, staring down at the decapitated corpse. He seemed to realize they were watching him and he glanced up, meeting their concerned, expectant gazes with a frown.
Xander would have moved closer to his lover, but Angel drew him back with a shake of his head and an unhappy Xander let him. They continued to watch. They didn't have long to wait. In a grotesque replay of the night in the alley, Spike's eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.
"Spike!" Xander shook himself free of Angel and dropped down beside his lover, drawing Spike's head onto his lap. He stroked a cold cheek with trembling fingers and looked up at Angel. "Is this supposed to happen?"
Angel looked on helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Let's just give it a minute, okay."
Xander clutched Spike tightly. "Come on, don't you dare quit on me. Come on, Spike. Come back to me." Tears crept into his voice. "You promised," he whispered. "You said you wouldn't leave me." His voice broke and he pressed his cheek against the ruffled blond waves. He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.then he felt something else. The smallest of movements, barely a twitch. He sat up. "Spike?"
Nothing.
Xander held his breath and waited again.
After what seemed like an agonizing pause, the figure in his arms shifted slightly and groaned.
"Bloody hell," Spike muttered, bringing an arm up to cover his face. "Fuck," he added, with some feeling. He lowered his arm and blinked in a somewhat dazed fashion; his face relaxed back into his human guise. The blue eyes were pain-filled and annoyed. He saw Angel first, as the older vampire was crouched in front of him. "Peaches?" Spike groaned again and slammed the flat of his palm against his forehead. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
Angel just grinned. Which did nothing to alleviate Spike's obvious confusion.
Xander wet his lips nervously. "Spike?"
Spike rubbed at his eyes with the balls of his fists, like an overtired child.
"Spike?" Xander repeated desperately.
Spike tilted his head back slightly, looking up into the upside down face of his lover.
Xander's heart skipped a beat at the blinding smile that spread across Spike's face and the softly whispered "Pet" sent any lingering fears scuttling back into the shadows. The hand that reached up and cupped the back of his neck gently but insistently drew him down: in the next instant he was being kissed to within an inch of his life. Xander opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, drowning in the taste and feel of his lover. He could have happily continued for hours, if not days, but they had more pressing matters on hand so reluctantly he pulled free and sat up.
Grumbling, Spike followed suit. He sat in the dirt, cradling his temples.
"What do you remember?" Angel asked.
"Dunno. I think maybe all of it. 'Cept it's all bollocked up at the moment. Though I do seem to recall the mick pulling a Houdini in the bathroom. This the wanker behind that?" Spike nodded toward the cowering lawyer, wincing when the action caused him additional pain.
"N-No." The lawyer shook his head frantically. "I.I helped you. I got you your memories back."
"Yeah," said Xander dryly. "You've been a big help. Don't know what we'd have done without you. Oh, wait…that's right: we wouldn't have had to do any of this without you." He glared at the man.
"We're wasting time," said Angel. He hauled the lawyer upright. "You're with us."
"Where are we going?" Spike asked, allowing Xander to assist him to his feet.
Angel threw the whimpering lawyer onto the back seat. "Darla."
"That bitch did this?" The sentence ended on a growl.
Xander got into the car, sitting beside his lover, who'd jammed the lawyer up against the door. Now why didn't he think this was going to be a fun family reunion.