The Situation

By Esmeralda

Part Six

Angel called out, "Hello, Willy," as the trio sauntered casually into the bar. Doyle marvelled at how the vampire managed to make a simple two-word greeting sound like a threat.

The weasely man behind the bar paled. "A-Angel. Al-always good to see you," he stammered. The lie practically stood up and cheered.

"We should talk, Willy," said Angel smoothly. "Catch up on old times."

"Well, I....I would y' know, but I'm not really in the talking business any more. If you catch my drift."

Willy nearly dropped the glass he was wiping as Angel came round to his side of the bar. The vampire plucked the glass out of the bartender's trembling fingers and collected three more from underneath the counter. He poured out four generous shots of whiskey.

Xander downed his quickly, coughing as the liquor scorched his throat. Angel handed the filled glass back to the shaking barman. "Willy, Willy," he admonished gently. "All I meant was that you and I should have a friendly chat. A few quiet words, nothing more." He draped an arm across the smaller man's shoulders.

Willy tried to wriggle away, Angel's hold tightened and he froze. "Oh, well, sure," he said hurriedly. "Old times, I can talk about them." Angel nodded, releasing him and moving back around to the front of the bar. He glanced at the two remaining patrons who hadn't yet vacated their bar stools. They immediately got up and left.

Doyle had witnessed Angel in 'threatening vampire mode' before, but this was a little too Angelussy for comfort. Though he noted that Xander didn't appear to have a problem with it. The boy stood to the vampire's left, adding his own icy stare to assist in intimidating the beleaguered bartender.

Not that it was necessary, Willy had already crumpled. He glanced around him unhappily before looking up at Angel. "What d'ya need?" he asked in a resigned voice.

Angel leaned across the bar, toying with his glass. "What's the word on combat fashions in Sunnydale? I hear that army green is in this season."

Willy's frightened face took on an even more terrified expression. "I don't know nuttin' about that," he said quickly. Snatching up a cloth he began to wipe down the counter in an agitated manner.

Angel caught hold of his wrist. "Willy, you sound scared, and I've got to ask myself - 'Why?' - If you really don't know anything."

Willy shook his head fervently. "I don't know, honest, Angel..ll..aargh." His voice rose and fell in a silent scream, as the vampire squeezed the bones in his wrist.

Doyle winced as he heard them grate against one another.

Willy whimpered. "P-please, Angel."

Angel's face was expressionless. "I need to know where I can find them, Willy. I need everything you have on them." He released the man's wrist.

Willy pulled it back, cradling it against his chest. "I...I don't know much. Those that see 'em don't tend to get the chance to tell anyone about it. Rumour is they're taking out anything non-human. Dragging them off to some underground lab and doing experiments and stuff before killing 'em." Doyle felt Xander stiffen beside him and he instinctively put a hand on the boy's arm, by way of wordless comfort. He was surprised when Xander acknowledged his touch with a brief, grateful look.

"Where?" Angel pressed.

"No one knows," said Willy. "Honest," he added quickly, seeing the vampire's look. "Some say it's out of town." He twitched.

Angel caught it. "And what do you say, Willy?" he asked.

The bartender glanced around him, lowered his head, and mumbled, "There was a Graddox demon in 'ere last week. He said he'd heard from a Murunder who was foraging in the woods, out past the college. The Murunder says she saw some guys dressed in military gear coming up out of the ground."

Doyle was puzzled. "The ground? You mean like a trap door?"

Willy shrugged. "Who knows what she meant. Murunder ain't exactly chatty-"

Angel cut in. "Where can I find this Murunder?"

"You can't. Word is she vanished." The bartender shivered. "Everyone's vanishing. They either disappear or they leave town. Sunnydale ain't a good place to be no more. It's killin' business," he muttered morosely, looking around his near-empty bar.

Angel put down his glass and rested his forearms on the counter. Willy took a nervous step back. "One more thing," Angel said calmly. "I heard that Spike's in town."

"Spike? Er...Yeah...I heard that too."

"You haven't seen him?"

The denial died on Willy's lips as he looked into Angel's dark eyes. He nodded reluctantly. "He was in here a while back, but he didn't exactly get a warm welcome." The bartender back-pedalled frantically as the vampire's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Not my fault, Angel. Not my fault. He.. Well, everyone knows he's been hangin' out with the Slayer see, and that's not made him too popular with the local clientele."

"What happened?" Xander asked, gripping the bar, his knuckles white.

Willy glanced back and forth between him and Angel. "Three Antori decided to 'persuade' him to drink elsewhere. I couldn't do anything." He appealed to Angel desperately. "You know what they're like. They'd have torn my place apart if I'd interfered, and then they'd have done the same to me."

Angel nodded, accepting the bartender's defence. "So, that was the last time you saw Spike?"

"Yeah." The little man's expression turned shifty. "But I thought...that is I heard, that you and he had settled your differ-" He broke off abruptly as Angel's hand shot forward and the vampire's fingers closed around his injured wrist.

"You should be very careful what you hear, Willy," Angel cautioned.

"I won't say nuttin' to no one. I won't, I promise. My word on it. You can trust me Angel. I know when to keep my mouth shut, you know that," Willy babbled frantically.

Angel maintained his hold on the squirming bartender. "Come on, Willy. Talk to me. Give me the rest. I know that you keep a detail on the Watcher's house."

"He does?" This from Xander, who looked vaguely sickened by the idea.

"I...I...," Willy stammered, then he sighed and nodded wearily. "There was a raid, earlier this evening. A small team of humans in combat gear broke into the Watcher's house. They came out carrying something wrapped in a taupe. My sources couldn't see what it was."

"Spike?" Angel guessed, squeezing the bartender's wrist lightly.

Willy winced. "Yeah," he confessed reluctantly. "They think it was him."

Xander's pallor had increased as the bartender filled in the holes in his 'Initiative-has-Spike-theory'. Whatever desperate hopes he'd been clinging to shattered, and he swayed as a wave of nausea swept through him. A slender arm circled his back, steadying him.

"You okay?" a soft voice asked.

Xander looked into a pair of compassionate green eyes and nodded. "Yeah, just thinking, you know." Doyle didn't say anything, but he kept his arm around him and Xander leaned into the support gratefully.

Angel had released Willy and stepped back. "We were never here, Willy. You never saw us. Have you got that?" He let his voice carry around the bar to let the few lingering patrons receive the same message.

Willy's head bobbed madly. "Yes, yes. I never saw you. Any of you." He glanced at Doyle and Xander. "No one will hear anything from me, Angel. You have my most solemn word."

"Good," said Angel. He smiled coldly. "Because I would hate to have to come back and have another little chat with you, Willy."

The bartender swallowed hard. After the three had left he sagged, wiping the sweat off his face with his cloth. Maybe it was time to relocate. He'd heard New York offered great opportunities to hard-working entrepreneurs such as himself.......

Part Seven

Spike ground his teeth quietly and tried to ignore the white-coated men who moved around him. He had been taken out with a dart gun, (rendering him conscious but paralysed) before suffering the indignity of being stripped and laid out on a medical trolley. He was held fast by metal bands around his legs, ankles, wrists and throat.

While the paralysis was wearing off, he'd given some thought as how to deal with what was coming. Scaring these gits was fun, but he'd finally gone for the unanimated corpse option - if only because he knew that his lack of response would piss the hell out of them. He hadn't so much as blinked during all the tests they'd put him through and he could sense their rising agitation. He curbed a smug smile and went back to singing Sex Pistols lyrics in his head.

So far he'd been submerged in freezing water, had electrical charges of varying frequencies and amplitudes fired through his body, been cut and sliced with scalpels, prodded with needles, and burned with heated metal rods. All the time the white-coated humans hovered around him, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes as they attached electrodes to his head or examined his teeth.

Spike's main problem wasn't handling the pain; it was coping with the boredom. Not that the tests weren't painful - one or two had proved bloody agonising, and he'd held back an angry snarl only with some difficulty. However, he'd learned how to cope with pain before these wankers were even born.

These guys were bungling amateurs compared to the likes of his Sire. Angelus would have regarded this sort of thing as foreplay. Spike simply fell back on age-old habits; drawing on a time when he was conditioned to let the agony wash through him without so much as a twitch or a whimper.(The good old days) he thought bitterly. He couldn't honestly say he missed them. There had been a certain perverse pleasure in being the focus of Angelus'...'attentions', but on the whole Spike preferred a Sire who didn't regard skinning and bone breaking as a way of getting him in the mood. Of course, back then it would have worked.

Spike's thoughts troubled him as he lay, absently counting the tiles on the ceiling. That was the problem with the non-active approach, it left him with too much time to think and mope. Right now his thoughts dwelled on a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed human, with a surprising knack for fellatio.

What was Xander doing while he was stuck in this hell hole? The boy must have discovered he was missing by now. Was the whelp looking for him? Or had he simply believed that Spike had deserted him?

That cut deep. He wished now he'd talked more with the boy. He tended to forget that humans needed constant worded reassurances. Vampires did a lot of their communicating non-verbally. They could detect the smallest changes in expression, pick up the subtlest changes in body scent - indicating arousal, desire, need.

It kind of did away with the necessity for lengthy conversations. Vampires knew how they felt about one another, they didn't need to hash it out in words. He forgot that humans were so soddin' blind that you had to repeatedly bash them over the head with stuff.

Plus, Xander was carrying around all that 'unworthy' crap. It wouldn't take much to make the boy think he'd been abandoned.(No, not much. Just my fuckin' mysterious disappearance.) Spike felt his demonic nature surfacing and he clamped down on it with effort.

Not yet...Not yet. He had to bide his time, lull these bastards into a sense of false security. His baleful stare fell on the armed guard on the door. Spike suppressed a sigh; course, it might take a little while. He forced himself to watch dispassionately as one of the scientists removed a small square of skin from his belly. The man cut it very precisely with a scalpel, before peeling it back wetly. Spike stared at the bloody square of flesh that was left exposed. His lip curled up and he growled softly. The discomfort was secondary to the humiliation of lying here while they carved him up like a flamin' joint.

He amused himself with an image of how the man would look with his innards draped across his chest.

Alright, thoughts of Xander weren't helpin'.

So what if he'd probably lost his one chance to tell the brat how he felt about him. Spike was used to dealing with disappointments, they were as much a part of his existence now, as they had been when he was still alive. Time to think of something else.

When he got out of here he could track down the whelp, tie him up, and quote poetry at him from one of Angel's bloody books. Humans seemed to like that sort of thing. Though he wasn't sure how Xander would take to it. Okay, so he'd read it to him until the boy begged him to stop, that could work too. Until then, he had to fill his mind with something else. Thoughts of what he'd eventually do to these guys, though entertaining, ultimately left him frustrated, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him vamp out. He was playing the role of 'Mr Very Dull Corpse' until they pulled out their hair and stomped off in disgust. So what did that leave. Dru? - No.

Angel? Thinking about his Sire wasn't exactly relaxing, but if he was careful he could avoid too much unwanted turmoil. Unbidden, a memory crept into his bored brain. The Oenan encounter; the first one. When he had been forced to write a letter to his Sire, pleading for Angel to come and rescue him.

With picture-perfect vampiric recall, Spike replayed the events in his head as they had enfolded.......

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Angel had taken nearly three weeks to arrive. Spike hadn't known whether to kiss his Sire or try and tear his throat out.

For his part, Angel had seemed relaxed and smug as he'd teased the younger vampire about his 'unfortunate situation'. Spike hadn't been in any mood for pleasantries.

"Just tell 'em what's what and get me the bleedin' hell out of 'ere," the vampire hissed.

"What's what?" Angel echoed, his smooth brow wrinkled in mock confusion.

"You know what I mean, so don't play dumb. Tell 'em you're shaggin' me and you don't want to share."

Angel frowned and glanced at the Oenan who'd claimed Spike and was waiting a few feet away. "I'm not sure. He seems awfully taken with you, Spike. It would be a little harsh for me to trample all over his dreams." There was barely disguised laughter in the vampire's voice.

Spike almost spat blood. "I don't care if he goes out and throws himself off the nearest mountain and then gets eaten by pissin' beetles. *Get me out of here.*"

Some of the amusement faded from Angel's eyes. "Watch your tone, Spike. I came a long way to dig you out of something you only have yourself to blame for. It wouldn't take much to make me turn around and go home again."

Spike tried to look contrite. "Alright," he muttered sullenly. "I 'apologise'. Now can we get on with this? In case you haven't noticed a few of his mates are eyein' you up. You dither around much bloody longer and we'll both wind up partnered to soddin' Oenans."

Angel frowned, but inwardly he acknowledged that his Childe had a point. He had noticed one or two interested looks cast his way and he wasn't happy about the prospect of being an Oenan's mate for the next few hundred years. He approached the Oenan who had laid claim to Spike. "Mesk ishakaa gar a nutushkaa," he said calmly.

The Oenan shook his head. "Mesk a gar brir-issh."

"Pussh, fe-duula. Ramza edual nesska," Angel argued, waving his hand toward the younger vampire. "Bella pudula nutushkaa."

A few of the Oenan's friends came over to join in and a fairly heated exchange ensued. Spike remained where he was, but followed the conversation carefully. It wasn't going well.

Finally, one of the Oenan's companions offered a possible solution. The Oenan placed great store on a physical expression of a 'claiming'. If Angel would be willing to show that the blond vampire was already taken. They would happily surrender their own claim upon him.

A less than happy Angel, stalked back over to his Childe. "Not one word," he hissed.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Spike was amused. Angel differed little from his soulless counterpart in this respect. Angelus had never cared for public displays of a sexual nature. He preferred the intimacy of a more private setting. Spike supposed he should be touched that his Sire would swallow his distaste and boff him in public. He looked around him at the amassing Oenans.....and it looked like it was going to be *very* public.

Spike glared at them sourly. It was just his bloody luck that he took after his Sire in preferring less showy displays of affection. He liked to play to a crowd, but not when he was being shagged by his Sire. Silently cursing his black goddess for deserting him and landing him in this sorry predicament, Spike followed Angel to the back of the cave.

A growing entourage of Oenan followed them.

There was a large, flat, bed-sized stone, situated near the back of the cave. Someone had thoughtfully draped some furs across it. Angel stood beside it, tugging off his boots with the terse, jolting movements of someone in a truly foul temper. Spike sighed and went over to his Sire, kneeling before him. Angel stopped what he was doing and looked down. With an action, he knew Angel would recognise and respond to, Spike lay his face against the older vampire's boot and slowly licked his way along the dusty leather, travelling from toe to top. He felt the quiver that shook his Sire's body. He had done this a thousand times before - but then it had been for Angelus. He had never 'performed' this way for Angel. Normally he wouldn't even have considered it. He only did so now because he knew it would be easier for them both to get through this, if they could fall into long held familiarity.

Their new relationship was just that - new. Too exposed and untried to handle this kind of pressure. For now, better to call up the past and give these Oenan a show they would talk about for generations to come.

Angel nodded and leaned back against the rock, steadying himself as Spike removed his boots. The younger vampire removed the rest of his Sire's clothing with the same care and attentiveness. Occasionally, kissing and nuzzling a newly bared part - when his Sire gave him permission to do so. Fully naked, Angel got up onto the rock and laid back amongst the furs. His face shimmered as it shifted into its true vampiric visage. Golden eyes stared, unblinking at the vampire who knelt waiting in the dirt.

"Strip," Angel ordered softly.

With fluid grace, Spike rose up and swiftly shed his clothes. Angelus had never cared for slow teasing displays.

"Come here." Angel's sibilant whisper carried across the cavern. You could have heard an ant walking across the sandy floor, as a hundred Oenan held their breath expectantly.

Spike obediently came forward and lay down on the rock beside his Sire. He lay upon his back, hands by his sides, unmoving, as Angel's golden-eyed gaze studied him dispassionately. Spike suppressed a shiver and struggled not to lose himself in the past. Angel must have seen it as the older vampire's expression softened slightly.

"I'm here, Will. I won't hurt you," Angel whispered against his ear.

Spike turned to answer him and found his lips captured in a kiss guaranteed to burn away the last of his doubts. Angelus had never kissed him like this, with a bewildering mixture of intensity and gentleness. Angel explored his mouth with a thoroughness that was almost overwhelming. Spike surrendered to it willingly, his body arching up toward his Sire's. His own vampiric nature surfaced and their fangs clashed as the kiss quickly grew more heated.

He practically purred as Angel stroked his chest, tugging his nipples, twisting them - drawing them into stiff little peaks. He rubbed them against Angel, feeling the other vampire's nipples harden in response. The Oenan audience was almost forgotten as they gave themselves to the urges now driving their bodies. Spike wrapped his legs around his Sire and thrust himself desperately against the older vampire.

Angel allowed it for a few frantic moments then pushed his Childe back onto the furs. "Turn over," he growled.

Spike quickly flipped onto his belly. He gave groan of sheer delight as Angel's weight pressed down upon him. He could feel his Sire's hard flesh nestling between his buttock cheeks. Spike began to growl and whimper when Angel didn't move.

"Be still," came the order, low and hoarse.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Spike forced himself to remain still. He keened softly as Angel began to slowly rock against him. It was a maddening torment, the gentle teasing motion rubbed his own aching erection into the soft furs. He thumped his head against the rock as he tried to stop himself pushing back.

He gave a moan of despair when Angel sat back.

"Quiet."

Spike smothered an instinctive curse and fell silent. A tongue flickered against his right buttock, he fought off a twitch. The tongue trailed inward, brushing wetly against his crease. "Angel," he gasped. A slight nip warned him to be quiet - the sharp fangs just breaking his skin. The tongue continued its slow, leisurely path, pausing to probe lightly at the entrance to his body. Spike twitched but didn't so much as whimper. Blood trickled down his jaw as he gnawed his lips.

The tongue left and Angel leaned over him; a finger was held in front of his mouth. "Suck it," Angel ordered.

Spike drew the digit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it eagerly, tasting his Sire. Angel pulled the finger back and Spike reluctantly let it go. It moved to nudge its way between his buttocks; there was little meandering as it simply forced its way past the tight ring of muscle. Spike's eyes half-closed in ecstasy, pain and pleasure spiralling out through his body.

He knew that with this, Angel was detouring from the past - Angelus had never bothered preparing him for a good, hard fucking. Blood and screams had been an integral part of sex with his soulless Sire. Purring happily, Spike rocked back and forth onto Angel's finger. This time the older vampire didn't order him to be still or silent.

A second finger joined the third - more pain, and then the intense sensations that followed, rippling through him, creating an illusion of heat in his cold, hard flesh. "Angel," he whispered, pleadingly.

The fingers withdrew and he was hauled up onto his hands and knees. "Stay like that." A desperate command. Spike struggled to obey as his arms trembled with the effort. There was hardly any pause and then Angel's hard, cold length was pressing into him. Spike groaned and lowered his head, panting as Angel forced his way inside.

The older vampire pushed in slowly, trying not to tear the silken channel that slowly opened to him. Finally, he was flush against Spike's shaking body. Gripping his Childe's slender hips, Angel slowly pulled out again, almost all the way, then slowly he pushed back in. Spike groaned again, more loudly this time, a low animalistic sound. Angel began to pick up the rhythm, pounding into the younger vampire's body with fast, aggressive strokes.

Spike was struggling to maintain his hands and knees stance, as each punishing thrust pushed him down toward the furs. Finally he collapsed onto them, but he didn't lay there, instead he shoved backwards, driving himself up onto Angel's lap. The air was filled with grunts and growls as they thrust against one another. Angel's hand found his Childe's rigid member and he began to stroke it in tempo with his own pistoning hips.

Spike bared his fangs and let out a long eerie howl as his seed spilled out over his Sire's hand. Angel continued milking it until Spike pushed his hand away. Then the older vampire threw his Childe back down into the furs and drove at him in a demonic frenzy; exploding with a muted howl of completion as his seed gushed into Spike's trembling body.

Slowly, they separated, both more than a little stunned.

Though that was nothing compared to their audience who stared with wide red eyes. Then an Oenan near the back let out an excited whoop and soon the cavern was filled with the cries of ecstatic Oenan. A few paired off for a quick frenetic fuck. The rest simply jumped about yelling and screaming. Even the Oenan who had claimed Spike looked impressed. He wandered forward slowly.

"Dugassah me a tugand." The Oenan said, nodding his head. Then he walked off.

The two vampires were finally left, more-or-less alone, to get dressed. They did so quickly, avoiding looking at one another.

Spike broke the increasingly tense silence. "Don't suppose I can grab a lift back to civilisation?"

Angel nodded.

Spike rooted through his pockets for a smoke. He lit it and took a long hard drag. "You're not going to pout all the way back are you?"

"Why?" Angel snapped. "You want to wait for the next ride?"

Spike shrugged. "No. I just mean, there's no reason to get all broody about this."

"I'm not brooding," Angel ground out through gritted teeth. He was still in his game face, unable to calm himself enough to let it go.

"Could have fooled me," Spike muttered, not quite quietly enough. Angel spun around and grabbed him by the throat. "A-Angel, Oenans, watching," Spike gasped out. Angel released him.

"Just shut up and get in the car, Spike."

"So," Spike called after his Sire's retreating back. "I guess this means role playing is out?" He smirked as Angel's shoulders stiffened and the older vampire shook his head wearily before walking on. Spike put out his cigarette and hurried to catch up with him. It was a long drive back to L.A., maybe he could persuade Angel to 'let go a little'. Sex in a car was awkward, but entertaining, especially if the car in question was still moving.......

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Spike came out of his merry jaunt down memory lane, to discover that other parts of him were feeling equally joyful. He quickly worked on decreasing his 'joy'. There was no way he wanted to be caught standing to attention in front of these gits. The one with bad hair and a boil on his neck was a might too scalpel-happy for his liking.

Sighing, the vampire went back to counting tiles, as the scientists busied themselves inserting more needles under his skin..

Part Eight

The woods close to the college were eerily dark and silent. Pale moonlight trickled through the twisted branches, but the silver beams provided scarcely any illumination. Angel led the way, moving easily through the tangled undergrowth; Doyle took the rearguard position. Xander simply tried to avoid tripping over tree roots he could barely see.

He felt terrifyingly loud beside the vampire and the half-demon, both of whom seemed to walk without making a sound. Beneath his awkward tread, every twig snapped and every leaf rustled. Each shaky breath tore through the silence, and he was absolutely certain that every bloodthirsty monster in Sunnydale must be able to hear the 'thump, thump, thump' of his heart, as it pounded against his rib cage.

Xander tried to swallow, but his mouth had dried up. This evenings events promised to take him way beyond his normal fear quota. The prospect of battling a secret military organisation and a bunch of crazed scientists felt frighteningly 'real', compared to waging war on demons and other supernatural nasties. That was all still part of a weird and wacky netherworld; scary, but in a nightmarish - 'I can't believe this is happening' - sort of way. Sure, it wigged him out sometimes....okay, *most* of the time, but since his mind couldn't quite accept it, he muddled through.

This was totally different. Riley was real, his army buddies were real. Bullets, and military prisons with communal showers, and huge 'friendly' bunk mates called midge, were a little too real.

It was only the impetus of finally doing something constructive to rescue Spike that carried him forward. Xander couldn't help but feel he'd failed his lover. He should have known that Riley would remember the blond vampire eventually; his pseudo soldier memories told him men like Riley were trained to have perfect recall. The only surprising thing was that it had taken him so long.

Xander had a sour taste in the back of his throat. He was to blame. If he hadn't been such a coward about facing up to everyone, Spike would never have been chained up at Giles' house. He made a promise to himself that when they got Spike out of this, he and the vampire were leaving Sunnydale for good. He wasn't sure where they'd go, but he wasn't staying around to let his lover continue to play tag with Riley and his friends.

After all, what was holding him here? He hated his job, his family regarded him as an annoying inconvenience - unless they wanted him to do something for them. He barely spoke to Buffy or Willow anymore. He'd miss them, and he'd miss Giles, but Spike was too important to lose. He loved the vampire - black heart and all. Xander didn't know if this thing between them stood a chance of working out, however he was finally ready to give it a try.

If it wasn't already too late.

He hoped the 'Xander Harris luck' wasn't running true to form. Just this once couldn't everything work out. Was it so much to ask?

Angel stopped and Xander almost stumbled into the back of him. The vampire waved at him to wait and then stepped out into a small clearing. There was a door. Not a trap door, but a fairly normal looking upright door, set into a slope. It had that dull, officious look that deterred small children and hopeful vagrants. That, and the fact there didn't appear to be a door handle - or any way of opening it at all.

Doyle came to stand beside him. After a moment, Angel beckoned them both forwards. The vampire studied the door closely, while Doyle kept his gaze fixed on the woods. Xander watched Angel anxiously. "Can you open it?" he whispered. Some of his unease subsided when Angel nodded.

"It's electro magnetically sealed," said the vampire, holding both his hands - palms flat - just above the door. "I can feel the current."

"It's electrified?" Xander asked, nervously moving back.

"No. Not the door. The lock." Angel swung his bag down off his shoulder and began to rummage through it. "We need to interrupt the signal," he explained softly.

"Won't they be able to detect that?"

"Yes, but hopefully they'll just think it's a glitch. They'll probably send someone to check it, but they won't find anything." Angel took a small device out of his bag. He pressed a button on it and attached it to the door. A tiny amber light came on. "Doyle, get ready," he whispered.

"I'm with yer," Doyle replied quickly, moving closer.

The light went green and the door slid open with a slight hiss. Angel snatched the device and grabbed his bag before darting inside; Xander and Doyle followed close on his heels. The door slid shut a second later.

They were stood in a small, lift-sized compartment. The walls were metal, shiny and new looking. Subdued red lighting cast an eerie glow. In the far wall a series of metal rungs led upwards. Angel slung his bag back over his shoulder and began to climb. Taking a deep breath to steady his screaming nerves, Xander followed. His damp palms stuck and slipped on the cool metal.

There was an opening just before the top, leading into a narrow tunnel. They left the ladder and crawled into it, making their way along on their hands and knees. The unsettling red lights still lit their way, situated every few feet down the tunnel.. At the end it forked into three - right, left, and down. Angel stopped.

"What's up?" Xander hissed, as the vampire came to a halt.

"I don't think we want to go down," Angel answered absently. The rungs led to a trap door about twenty feet below.

"So? Pick another route." Xander was anxious to keep moving. The passageway was uncomfortably claustrophobic.

Angel went right.

Xander's palms grew increasingly clammy as he shuffled along; his knees were starting to hurt and his neck ached as he kept his gaze fixed on the vampire ahead. The silence was beginning to rattle his overstretched nerves. He'd seen too many films where the 'hero' travelled through tunnels like this, only to come face to face with torrents of water or a raging fireball. What if they got stuck? Would anybody ever find them? What if they weren't alone in here? Clips of 'Alien' snuck into his brain and he shivered. (Okay, *not* a good time to remember that.)

The tunnel widened again at another junction; this time the choices were straight on or a sharp right. There was also a metal grill to the left. Angel moved to the side of it and motioned the others to come forward. Peering through the grill, Xander glimpsed a long white corridor; it appeared to be empty. He watched, fascinated, as Angel shifted into his vampiric guise and sniffed the air - like a predator trying to pick up the scent.

The vampire's face shimmered back into its smooth human planes. "There's no one around down there," he said quietly. Taking hold of the grill he effortlessly yanked it free of the wall. He held onto it as he jumped down. Xander dropped down beside him, feeling suddenly very exposed in the stark, white corridor. He pressed himself back against the wall. The lights seemed too bright and he squinted.

Doyle landed noiselessly next to him and assisted Angel in replacing the grill as best as they could manage. The half-demon didn't look too happy. "This place has to be huge," he whispered. "How are we gonna find him?"

Xander looked expectantly at the vampire. He felt distinctly nervous when Angel looked at him.

"Xander can find him," the vampire said calmly.

"W-what? Me?" Xander fought to keep his voice down. He'd expected Angel to say that he could track down Spike, maybe using some kind of Sire~Childe thing.

Angel grabbed both his arms and shook him gently. "Listen to me, Xander. I know you don't fully understand it yet, but you and Spike are 'mated'. In vampire terms, that means there is a kind of bond between you; one you can sense if you really try. You just have to let go of your humanity a little. This isn't human. This is preternatural."

Xander blinked helplessly.

"Magic if you prefer," Angel explained. "Think of it as a sixth sense."

"You mean like 'the Force is with me'," Xander joked uneasily.

Angel frowned but Doyle caught the reference. "Yeah, that's exactly it. Like when Leia knew Luke was hanging off that aerial thing in the Cloud City."

Angel looked nonplussed.

Xander fully sympathised with how lost Luke must have felt, dangling out over nothingness. Angel was telling him there was some magical, mystical link between him and Spike?! Okay, fine, but *he* couldn't feel it. How was he supposed to tap into this thing?

"Close your eyes," Angel told him gently. "Let your mind go blank. Don't try to make it work. Let it happen on its own."

Unhappily, Xander shut his eyes. Angel's hands released him and he was left feeling lost and alone without their anchoring touch. The corridor lights were bright behind his tightly closed lids. Xander struggled to clear his mind, but it was crammed full of jumbled thoughts and images. He began to panic. He opened his eyes. "I can't...I can't," he said desperately.

Angel's expression was calm, Doyle's was impassive. "You can," said the vampire. "You have to. He *needs* you, Xander. He needs you to find him, before it's too late."

(Oh god.) Xander looked back and forth between the two, but he understood; only he could do this. He nodded tersely and closed his eyes again. He clenched his hands into fists and tried to slow down his breathing, (Calm, think calm. *No*. Don't think. Thinking is bad. Nothing ... nothing .... nothing) Xander unfurled his fingers and let them dangle loosely by his sides as he rocked gently on the balls of his feet.

He concentrated on Spike. The scent of him - leather, smoke and sex - deep and earthy. The sound of his laughter, rough and slightly mocking. The taste of him (Oh gods, the *taste* of him....) Xander let Spike fill his senses. His eyes shot open. "That way," he said stunned, pointing to the left. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, and it was freaking him out slightly.

Angel smiled at him. "Try to keep your focus," the vampire cautioned.

Xander nodded mutely and the three of them moved off. The door at the end was unlocked, they opened it carefully. It led onto another, identical corridor. Angel glanced up at the security camera above his head. There was another one above the door at the far end. Angel put his finger to his lips and then pointed upward, drawing Doyle's and Xander's attention to them. Indicating that they shouldn't talk in case the cameras also had sound detectors.

Angel took a small half-sphere shaped object out of his bag. He showed it to the other two, mimed throwing it, and used his free hand to illustrate that they would have fifteen seconds once the device was activated. He motioned for them to look away. After triggering the device he slid it across the floor. Angel covered his eyes and counted to three. In the mean time there was a brilliant flash, as an energy charge temporarily cut out the cameras. On three he nudged Doyle and grabbed Xander. They raced down the corridor; Angel snatched back his device and they rushed through the other door.

They practically landed on top of a very startled man in a white coat clutching a clip board. Angel instantly wrapped an arm around the man's throat and put a hand over his mouth. There was a door immediately to their right. "Is there any one in there?" Angel asked. "Think carefully how you answer. I can snap your neck in less than a second."

"Mmm," said the man, shaking his head, eyes wide with terror.

Doyle tried the door. "Locked." He began to rifle through the man's pockets. "I bet you have a key though, don't ya?" Sure enough he found the man's card key in a top pocket. He swiped it through the door lock and the four of them hurried inside.

"I'm going to release you," said Angel quietly. "Make a wrong move and, well, I don't think I need to tell you what will happen."

"Uhgm," said the man desperately.

Angel released him, spinning the man around so they were face to face.

"Where do you keep them?" the vampire demanded. "The demons that are brought down here. Where do you put them?"

The man shook his head fearfully. "I...I... don't know what you mea-" He was silenced as Angel's hand locked around his windpipe. Angel watched him calmly as he fought to draw breath. When he began to turn puce, Angel allowed him to suck in a little air - just a taste. Then he tightened his grip again. The man's eyes began to bulge.

Doyle watched with a look of vague distaste. Though whether it was for Angel's actions or the captured scientist, was hard to say. Xander's expression was much easier to read as he stared at the squirming man with undisguised loathing. This was one of the sick bastards that had hurt Spike, Xander wanted to see him suffer. Though some small part of him was a little unsettled by how much he was enjoying this.

After a few seconds, Angel allowed the man to resume breathing again. "N-next....co-corridor," the man gasped in between breaths. "The p-pens are...d-down.. there."

Angel smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard. Was it?" The man shook his head warily. "Now unfortunately we didn't bring any rope with us," said Angel apologetically. "And since that means I can't tie you up-" He shrugged and hit the man once, knocking him cold. He dragged the unconscious body into the corner and concealed it behind the desk. Quickly, he removed the man's white-coat.

Angel took one look at the size and held it out to Doyle and Xander. "One of you put this on, and get that clip board."

Doyle, like Angel wore a leather coat. Xander was only wearing a light cotton jacket; he took the white-coat and slipped it over the top. Doyle handed him the clip board. "Now what?" Xander asked.

"Now you are Doctor-" Doyle leaned forward and straightened the name tag "-Mosogovich." He winced. Didn't these mad scientist types ever have normal names.

"Mosgob-what?" Xander asked, trying to read the name tag upside down. "I can't even pronounce it," he complained.

"Hopefully you won't need to. This is just in case we run into anyone else. This place is probably full of faceless white-coated guys. It might buy us a little time in a clinch," Angel explained.

Xander nodded glumly and fastened the last button on the coat. "Guess this means I'm leader?"

"We're right behind you, Xander," said Angel, opening the door and checking the coast was clear.

"Not that comforting," Xander mumbled. "I only stop bullets in a permanently fatal sense. Unlike some other guys around here."

Doyle heard him. The half demon raised his hands appeasingly. "Don't look at me, man. I'm as bullet proof as you are."

"No one's going to get shot," Angel insisted. "Unless we draw attention to ourselves by arguing about it."

Xander and Doyle both fell silent. The former reluctantly led the way, holding his clipboard up in front of him like a shield. Fortunately, the corridors all seemed deserted and there were no more cameras - at least not that they could see. There were a handful of doors down both sides of the corridor. Some had small glass windows. Xander peered into each of them cautiously.

He stopped dead, outside the third one.

"What?" Doyle hissed, coming to stand beside him. Xander didn't respond. Angel tried to see past the boy into the room. When he couldn't see anything clearly, he gently moved Xander out of the way. He was instantly worried by how easily he could move the unresponsive youth. He touched Xander's cheek gently, the boy's skin was cold, brown eyes fixed and glassy. Angel frowned, it was almost as though Xander was in shock.

"Angel, man. I think you should take a look at this," Doyle whispered hoarsely. The Irishman's soft voice shook slightly. He was looking in through the tiny window.

Angel went over to the door; Doyle stepped aside to let him see. In an instant Angel's face shimmered, his eyes became catlike - glowing and furious. Fangs bared, he growled low in the back of his throat. Seizing the handle he tore the door open and rushed inside..

Part Nine

Nothing could have prepared Xander for what he saw as he looked through the little square of glass. Not even the tortured images thrown out by his imagination.

Inside the room Spike sat naked, strapped into a chair. As Xander watched, a man flicked a switch and the vampire screamed and writhed as the electricity snaked through his body. The current was so powerful that plumes of smoke rose up. Rivulets of blood flowed down the Spike's chin as his fangs sliced into his lips.

Xander was frozen. Someone moved him away and his mind began to trickle back to him. He blinked sharply, once, twice, and shook his head; trying to clear it. He heard an unmistakable growl to his right, and watched as an enraged Angel wrenched the door open. As the vampire rushed inside Xander pulled himself together and followed.

The ensuing carnage was brief but brutal. There were three scientists in the room and a soldier standing beside the door. Angel ran past the soldier and seized two of the scientists - slamming their heads together with a resounding crack. He dropped their bodies to the ground and turned to the third, who was now cowering in terror.

Meanwhile, the soldier was prevented from drawing his weapon when Xander smashed him in the face with the clip board. Xander threw that away and put in three good punches that took the soldier down to his knees; whereupon Xander kicked him a couple of times.

Doyle had followed Xander in. The half demon grabbed up a chair and as the soldier tried to rise he hit him with it. The soldier went down for the count. Xander was still trying to clear the red mist from his vision and he kicked the fallen man again, before rushing over to his lover. Angel joined him - after throwing the third scientist across the room; the man slid quietly down the wall and crumpled into a heap on the floor.

The current had stopped flowing and Spike was slumped forward, his chin lolling on his chest.

"Spike? Spike? Don't be dead. *Please* don't be dead," Xander murmured feverishly, as he struggled to release his lover.

"I'm already dead you pillock," a low pain-filled voice muttered, as Spike slowly raised his head and met Xander's worried gaze. "Get me the fuck out of this thing," he hissed.

"Here," said Doyle, darting forward with a small control box. "Try this."

Spike eyed it dubiously. "If that fires this thing up again, you are *so dead*, little man," he threatened.

Doyle just glared at him. "Go on," he urged Xander. "Try it."

Xander looked at Spike, who nodded, he pressed the button warily - the metal cuffs around the vampire's arms and legs clicked open. Spike shot up out of the chair and immediately fell forward. He was caught by three pairs of hands and ended up cradled against Xander's chest.

Angel looked on worriedly.

Spike glanced at his Sire. "You took your bloody sweet time gettin' here. *Again*," he muttered. A cough racked his body and he spat blood. "I need a drink."

Angel hesitated, then retrieved one of the fallen scientists. He lay him on the floor beside the younger vampire.

Doyle looked shocked. "Angel, man-"

"He's dead," said Angel flatly. There was a trace of regret in his eyes; which had resumed their normal dark hue.

Spike practically threw himself on top of the corpse, tearing open the dead man's throat with his teeth. Doyle backed away as loud sucking noises filled the room and the spilled blood pooled out around their feet. Xander watched the crimson tide creep across the tiles, but he made no attempt to move, not even when his laces trailed in the viscous fluid. He could smell it, rich and coppery. He shivered.

Spike drank his fill and sat back. He was still in full game face but as he wiped his arm across his mouth, he shifted back into his human guise. The vampire turned to face Xander; he stared at him for a brief moment then grabbed him and kissed him fiercely.

Xander went very, very still......and then kissed Spike back with equal fervour.

Angel smiled.

Doyle's eyebrows rocketed to his hairline. Okay, so he'd known. Knowing it was one thing. Seeing it was all together different. Spike and Xander - who'd ever have thought?

Spike broke the kiss reluctantly. He glanced over his shoulder at Angel. "What's the plan for gettin' out of here then?" He groaned when Angel remained silent. "Oh, please. Not one of those 'make-it-up-as-we-go-along' jobs. I hate them."

"They usually work don't they," said Angel coolly.

"No," said Spike, his expression sullen. He stood up, wobbled slightly and was steadied by Xander. "I don't suppose you brought me anything to wear either?"

"How was I supposed to know you were going to be naked?" Angel asked exasperatedly.

"Guys, guys," said Xander. "I think soldier boy here would be quite happy to part with his pants."

Soldier boy in fact had very little say in the matter, as he was roughly stripped of boots and clothing. Spike tightened the belt several notches to hold up the trousers. He jerked back when Xander tried to put the cap on his head. "No bloody way," he said.

"Your hair needs covering up," Xander pointed out. "It's very... ah...unique."

"There is nothing wrong with my hair," Spike muttered. Snatching the cap he put it on. Doyle sniggered. Spike's temper flared. "Laugh it up, demon boy. Let's see if you're still laughing when I rip out your guts." He started forward but was stopped by the immovable bulk of his Sire.

"Back off," Angel ordered. "Unless you want to stay here?"

Spike muttered something unintelligible and stepped back. He adopted a casual pose and draped an arm around Xander's shoulders.

Only Xander felt the way Spike leaned into him, long white fingers clutching his shoulder with a near painful grip. He could also detect faint tremors that shook Spike's body. His lover was clearly still quite weak, despite his mouthing off.

"Right, let's go," said Angel. Doyle had been searching the room for anything useful. He'd collected the soldier's pass and the man's firearms. The half-demon kept the rifle and held out the hand-gun to Angel.

Angel shook his head, "Give it to Xander."

Doyle frowned but handed the weapon over to the youth.

Xander took it gingerly - checking the safety was on, before tucking it carefully into his waistband. After a moments thought he undid a few of the white coat buttons; he wanted to be able to the gun in a hurry if need be.

Silent and wary, the four exited the room. Angel led the way back along the corridor, keeping a close watch on the others. He noticed that Spike was already walking better. Clearly the effects of the punishing voltage were slowly wearing off. Angel thought about what had just happened. The sight of his Childe suffering and in pain had pushed him into a mindless fury. He had slain two men, and the worst of it was, he couldn't bring himself to regret taking their lives.

These men were the true monsters; they tortured, killed and maimed in the name of science, not survival. How many creatures suffered here, entombed within this maze of white corridors? Didn't these people understand that some of the demons they captured were harmless? Some were scavengers. Others were plant eaters who would rather flee than fight. Angel's mouth tightened. Oh, he bet they knew. They just didn't care.

He stopped, he heard voices up ahead.

"Angel?" Xander whispered.

"Quiet," Spike hissed. "We're about to have company, get ready, pet."

Xander fumbled for the gun at his waist, as Spike pulled back his arm. The vampire stood ready. There was nowhere to run. No door close by. They could go back to the room they'd just left - but better to fight in the open than risk getting trapped in there.

The door they were making for swung open and a small group of soldiers came through it. Xander recognised one of them instantly. "Riley," he whispered softly.

The soldiers suddenly realised that they weren't alone in the corridor and stopped dead. A heartbeat later they were reaching for their weapons.

"Don't," Xander called, taking aim with his hand-gun. Doyle moved to stand beside him, pointing his rifle at the stunned soldiers.

"Xander?" Riley sounded utterly bewildered. "Wha-?"

"Just step aside, Riley. All we want to do is leave," said Xander. He swung his gun to bear on a soldier who'd taken a step forward. "I wouldn't," Xander warned him. "I've really had a lousy day and it really wouldn't take much to make me use this." His voice shook with anger and a trace of hysteria.

"Xander, just put the gun down. I don't know what you're doing but-"

"*What I'm doing is getting away from you murderous bastards*," Xander spat out the words, his eyes suspiciously bright as he fought to keep control.

"Look, just step aside and no one gets hurt," said Angel quietly.

"We can't do that," said Riley.

"I only count two guns," said the soldier beside him. "You can't shoot us all," he sneered.

"No," Xander agreed, "but I can shoot you." He pointed his gun at the man who fell silent.

"Xan-" Riley broke off as the lights above their heads suddenly flickered and dimmed. A second later the corridor was plunged into darkness.

Spike gave a sharp yelp and sank to the floor clutching his head. Angel dropped down next to him, crouching anxiously by his Childe. "Will?" he whispered urgently.

Xander couldn't see anything but he heard his lover's cry of pain and turned toward it. He walked forward blindly and almost fell over the two vampires. He immediately ducked down next to them. His hands located Spike and he felt the spasms wracking his lover's slender frame. "Spike, what's wrong?"

The vampire gave no sign he'd even heard.

Riley and his men were waiting for the emergency lighting to kick in - it didn't. One of them grew impatient and decided to chance his luck. He stepped forward; there was the soft 'snick' of a gun being readied.

"That's close enough," a soft Irish voice said coldly. "I would stay right there if I were you. I'm willing to lay odds that my night vision is better than yours."

The soldier froze, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with the knowledge that somehow he had been seen in the pitch blackness. Doyle glanced back anxiously at the others. Spike was on his hands and knees, clutching his head and keening softly. Xander's expression was distraught as he stroked his lover's back and tried to see what was happening through the impenetrable darkness. Angel knelt beside them; as Doyle watched, the vampire covered Xander's hand with his own.

Suddenly Spike stiffened, and slowly raised his head. His eyes glowed, twin fiery orbs, the pupils merest pin-pricks. He hissed, low and angry. Doyle shivered. "Angel, we need to move." He looked back at the soldiers. They stood, trapped by the darkness, but tense and ready to fight.

"Spike, Spike," Xander urged softly. "Spike, please. What's wrong?" He was almost knocked aside as the vampire sprang to his feet.

In full game face, Spike glared at the soldiers. He stalked forward purposefully, but had only moved a handful of steps when Angel's hand caught and held him. He looked back at his Sire. "This ain't no bloody power cut," he explained, his voice low and deadly. "Someone's been messing around with the mojo."

"A spell?" Angel frowned, then his eyes widened. "Your implant-"

"-is out of action. William the Bloody is back," Spike crowed. He turned back to face the soldiers and lowered his voice to a sibilant hiss. "Time to spill a little blood, children." He shrugged free of Angel's hand. "Or a lot. Depending on how much you bastards have in you." The soldiers tensed even further as they absorbed the meaning of the vampire's words.

"Will, wait," said Angel.

Spike spun round to face him, snarling. "You have got to be jokin'! These bastards didn't for me. I'm gonna wrap their fuckin' entrails round their throats!"

Angel shot forward in a blur, interposing himself between Spike and the soldiers. He shed his human guise as he did so; facing off against his Childe. "Will, think. Someone's working something here and we're caught right in the middle of it. Now until we know what's going on, they're more useful to us alive."

Spike didn't look convinced.

Xander was following the conversation closely. "Spike," he whispered. "Listen to him. There's something very weird going down here." He had been stunned by the revelation that his lover was no longer crippled by the Initiative device. However, as much as he shared Spike's sentiments, he agreed with Angel that they were better off keeping Riley and his goon squad alive until they knew what was happening.

There was a very tense pause, and then Spike gave a growl of disgust and stood down.

Angel relaxed and shifted back into his human guise to face the soldiers. "Riley?"

"Yes." The young man's voice was calm and clear, despite the edge of uncertainty beneath it.

"What do you say to calling a temporary truce, while we find out who's behind this?" Angel offered.

Another soldier answered him. "You've got to be kiddin'. We don't do deals with freaks."

Spike growled. Angel waved him quiet. "Well, perhaps you'd like a minute to reconsider that policy." The vampire's voice was tight with barely restrained anger. "Because whoever is doing this has power and you can be certain that whatever they're planning, it's not friendly."

"What d'ya think?" Doyle interjected. "A break out?"

"Probably."

"Impossible," said Riley "Even if the power is down, the system-"

"-is useless," said Doyle. "Listen to Angel, man. He's tellin' yer the truth. Whoever is doing this has a gift with the spell castin'. You don't knock out places like this without some kinda know-how."

"Spell casting?" Riley sounded confused. "This is a power black out," he insisted.

"And the reason why your back up generator isn't workin' is because?" said Doyle pointedly.

Riley didn't answer him immediately. "There's probably a fault," he admitted finally. "We'll have a team working on it."

"Your 'team-mates'," said Spike nastily, "are probably already dead."

"Where are your closest emergency supplies, torches, weapons?" asked Angel. They'd already spent too long standing around, it was time to get moving.

Riley wasn't happy about making a truce, he also knew that he and his men were helpless while they were in total darkness. He was struggling to come to a decision when a long howl echoed down the corridor. Everyone stiffened; those who couldn't see stared, panicked, into the surrounding blackness.

Xander inched closer to Spike. He looked into the vampire's golden eyes; the only part of his lover he could see. "What was that?" he whispered.

Another eerie howl rang out.

"Angel?" Doyle sounded decidedly unhappy.

Both vampires were listening intently. After the second howl they looked at one another and nodded.

"Time to move children," said Spike, grabbing Xander and walking him forward.

"W-what?" said Riley, as the vampire shoved him out of the way.

Angel explained briskly. "It's a Locksaw demon, and it's hunting."

"No guesses who," Doyle muttered.

There was another howl, closer this time. Angel stepped up to Riley, putting his face close to the young man's. "Listen, times up. If you want to live, come with us. That thing is going to be on top of us any minute. Believe me when I say that you don't want to be here when it arrives." Riley was trying to recall anything he knew about a 'Locksaw demon' - he was drawing a blank. He did know that whatever it was they didn't stand a chance against it fighting blind. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly.

"Riley!" His companion sounded outraged.

"Stand down, soldier." Riley barked. He wasn't happy about this either, but better a deal with the devil than a ticket to hell. "Men, we're moving back to storage room 34a."

"Where is it?" Angel asked.

"At the end of the corridor, turn left. It's the second door." Riley sounded less than pleased to be handing out the information. He jumped a little when someone took hold of his arm. He could feel the chill of their fingers seeping through his shirt. He shivered.

"Join hands," Angel instructed.

"What?" One of the other soldiers asked.

Riley caught his meaning. "Do as he says," he ordered.

The soldiers fumbled around in the darkness, awkwardly catching hold of sleeves and hands. Angel maintained his grip on Riley. "Spike, take point. Doyle?"

"I've got our backs," said the half-demon, waving his rifle meaningfully.

"Stay close," said Angel softly. Doyle nodded. "Okay, lets go."

Spike led the way, steering Xander with an arm around the boy's waist. Angel followed with a trail of soldiers stumbling in his wake. Doyle brought up the rear, walking backwards, with his rifle pointing down the corridor. The howl sounded out again, this time it was joined by a second similar cry. Spike found the storage room door - it was locked. He forced the handle and pulled Xander inside. The others followed. Doyle closed the door behind them and sagged against it.

The howls drew closer.

Part Ten

Space inside the storage room was in short supply and the unhappy occupants were forced to cram together. Spike's glowing eyes secured him a little extra room and he drew Xander with him into a corner. After some jostling and shuffling the soldiers managed to group themselves together in the opposite corner.

Doyle and Angel searched the shelving. The vampire wasn't overly surprised to discover that none of the torches worked. "Riley, do you have anything beside electric torches?"

The young man turned blindly toward the sound of Angel's voice; he frowned, "Yes, we have phosphorus-"

"-got 'em," Doyle interrupted. He handed the vampire a slender cylindrical tube.

Angel operated it and the chemicals inside began to glow - giving off a bright, greenish-tinged luminescence. He activated several others and handed them out amongst the soldiers; Spike snatched one for Xander, who accepted it gratefully.

The illumination revealed tense, angry faces. Riley tried to take back a small measure of control. "Okay," he said, facing Angel. "Since you seem to know what's going on here would you care to provide the rest of us with some answers?"

Angel regarded him calmly. "I don't have any," the vampire admitted bluntly. "All I can tell you that this type of power manipulation takes a far amount of skill. Whoever's doing this has apparently taken out every live electrical device *and* all your back-up systems. We're not talking ordinary spell-casting here."

Riley picked on the one word that gave him trouble. "Excuse me, 'spell-casting'? You're trying to tell me that this was done by *magic*." There was no mistaking the disbelief in his tone.

"Magic, mojo, the mystical arts," said Spike. He sneered at the young man. "You've been playing around with the wrong crowd, soldier boy. You should 'ave stuck to your own kind."

"Our job is to take out animals like you!" one of the soldiers declared hotly. Dark haired and square jawed he made the mistake of stepping too close to the vampire; Spike simply grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The young man dangled helplessly as Spike's other hand closed over his face.

Spike grinned fiercely. "You have no idea how *good* this feels. I think I might peel your face off," he shrugged, "just for fun like." Between his fingers the soldier's blue eyes widened.

"KARL!" A tall, wiry-haired man threw himself at the vampire; struggling ineffectually to pull Spike away from his friend. Xander instantly moved to drag the soldier off his lover.

"Enough," Angel snapped. "Spike, let him go." When the younger vampire didn't comply immediately, Angel growled at him. "Will, put him down *now*."

Spike dropped the soldier and shoved him away. At the same time Xander and his combatant stopped struggling and separated warily. Spike placed himself between his lover and the angry soldiers; then he turned to Angel. "Last time," he warned his Sire in a low voice." The next one's dead."

Angel was careful not to show it, but he was surprised by his Childe's restraint. He had fully expected to have to use force to drag Spike off the unfortunate soldier. Nevertheless, he was also aware that he couldn't rely upon his status as Spike's Sire to secure the men's safety for much longer. For once Spike was 'justifiably' homicidal. Angel knew he needed to give the younger vampire an outlet for his violent urges, before Spike started breaking necks.

"Why don't you use your talents for something useful," he snapped back. "We have a couple of Locksaw demons to take out, remember." Angel waited for the stinging retort, or at the very least an exclamation of disgust. He got neither - Spike's golden eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"You're not gonna try and tackle those things out there?" Doyle asked worriedly.

"It's better that we find them first," said Angel; implying that the Locksaw would find them soon enough.

"I hope you have a bleedin' plan this time," Spike muttered.

Angel shrugged. "Not really. I just thought we might do a little hunting of our own."

Spike's expression brightened. "As plans go, that's one of your better offerings."

Angel ignored the insult. "Doyle, Xander, the rest of you - stay in here until we come back," he said, moving toward the door.

"Now wait a minute-"

Angel cut Riley off mid-protest. "You want to go out there, fine, but just so you know, strength-wise you are *no* match for these things. Your 'specialised weapons' are out of action and any other type of gun will just annoy them. They'll tear through your troop in less than a minute."

Riley was silent. His expression said he was ticked-off, even if common sense told him Angel was right.

The vampire turned away to address Doyle and Xander. "Try and jam the door with something after were gone."

Doyle nodded reluctantly.

Xander looked panicked. He grabbed Spike's arm as the blond made to go. "What are these Locksaw things like?"

Spike pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Picture a big pissed off dog with scales. Oh, and a few more teeth."

Xander wasn't taken in by Spike's cavalier attitude. He maintained an anxious grip on the vampire's arm. "How will you kill them?" he demanded.

"They're blood and bones, pet. They'll break and bleed." Spike sounded quite cheerful about the prospect.

Xander didn't look any happier. "Just make sure *they* do all the breaking and bleeding," he told the vampire softly.

Spike regarded his lover silently. The boy's dark eyes were filled with worry. Impulsively he stroked his fingers along Xander's cheek; then he turned to go. He was startled when Xander didn't release him, and was, instead, trying to draw him back; however he went willingly. Soft, warm lips touched his briefly - one of the soldiers muttered something - Spike tensed, but forgot about him as Xander's mouth brushed along his cheek.

"Come back quick," Xander whispered.

Stunned, Spike simply nodded and followed Angel out into the corridor. An unhappy Doyle and Xander watched them leave.

--------------------

Outside in the corridor, Spike touched his mouth with something close to wonder. He'd avoided kissing the whelp in front of the others in case it made things awkward. Army types didn't tend to take too well to that kind of thing. Spike couldn't have cared less what they thought, but much to his annoyance he realised that he didn't want to make trouble for Xander. He'd certainly never expected the whelp to initiate a kiss. Spike grinned, yep, his Xan-pet was full of surprises. That was good, he didn't like to be bored.

Still grinning smugly, he turned his attention back to the matter in hand. He had a demon to track....and tear apart. There would be time to fuck Xander senseless later. He thought about his 'restored abilities' and his expression turned sly.

"Spike, snap out of it. These are Locksaws; I don't care to be losing valuable parts of my anatomy because you're busy fantasying about getting your end away."

"I'm no-" Spike broke off mid protest. "Fuck," he growled out irritably. His Sire knew him too well. A howl rang out, a second echoed shortly after. "They've split up," he said needlessly.

Angel nodded. The older vampire had shed his human guise and his eyes glowed as he listened. The long howls rang out again. The Locksaw demons had separated but were keeping in contact through their cries as they prowled through the corridors.

However, they were no longer the only predators on the hunt.

"What d'you think?" said Spike. "One on one. Or do we go after 'em together?"

"Best stick together," Angel cautioned.

"What's the matter 'Oh fearless leader'. Scared of a little Locksaw?" Spike taunted. His yellow eyes glittered with amusement.

"As I remember, the last time we fought a Locksaw, it wasn't me who high-tailed it up a tree like his ass was on fire," said Angel dryly.

Spike frowned. "He was a bloody big bugger. Besides I was pretty new to all this stuff then," he defended.

Angel reached out and stroked his Childe's hair. "I know, and you did well." He smiled, "Once I'd coaxed you out of that tree."

"Coax?" Spike sputtered. "Oh yeah, what was it - 'Get down out of there you pissant before I turn you inside out and feed this bloody thing your innards'."

"It worked didn't it," said Angel. The older vampire's gaze turned serious. "I mean it, Will. There's no one I'd rather have at my back."

Spike was momentarily speechless. It didn't last long. He couldn't help from asking, "Not even her?"

Angel's fingers tightened in his hair.

"I believe I said no one," the older vampire said quietly. His voice was laden with sadness, but it carried a lethal undertone - one which quite clearly said Buffy was not a topic for discussion.

Despising his own insecure neediness, Spike was more than happy to let the matter drop. "Right then, lets go and find these buggers." He grinned cockily at his Sire.

The old vampire shook his head and looked fondly at his Childe. "Just remember," Angel warned, "there are no trees down here."

Spike caught the undercurrent of laughter in that deadpan voice. "Oh please, I'm wettin' meself." He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and stalked off.

Angel called after him. "Wait. We hunt together, remember." When Spike stopped and turned, he held out a knife to his Childe.

Spike paused, staring at the blade. He took his hands out of his pocket and accepted it with a terse nod. Truth be told he was only too happy to be hunting with the older vampire again. It had been too many years since they had last run together. In the past they would have carefully chosen their quarry, stalking it - sometimes over days or weeks - before finally making the kill. Human or demon, back then it hadn't mattered. Now, of course, it did - at least to his ensouled Sire.

The one thing that hadn't changed was how well they operated together. Even for vampires, even for ones who shared the bond of Sire and Childe; theirs was an incomparable closeness. They moved along the corridors without need for word or gesture, perfectly attuned to one another.

Angel stopped and raised his head; he'd caught scent of their prey. Almost simultaneously Spike came to a halt, tensing as he picked up the Locksaw's scent. They turned to one another; a silent message was exchanged through unblinking golden eyes.

The vampires moved forward as one, fangs bared, their tread noiseless - ready to take down their prey.

--------------------

Inside the storage room the atmosphere was turning decidedly ugly. Riley and his men were getting rattled. All their training told them that they should be out there, taking out the enemy and securing the base - not hiding in the closet waiting to be saved by 'Hostile 17'. The soldiers began badgering Riley, trying to persuade him to take action. Eventually he submitted to their urging. "Alright," he snapped. "Jensen, what do we have?"

"Side arms and two M16's, Sir." Jensen reported smartly.

"Okay, and the laser rifles, Martinez?"

The soldier examining one shook his head. "He was right, Sir. The power cut appears to have effected all our energy weapons."

"Then regular guns will have to suffice," said Riley. "How are we for ammo?"

Martinez picked up three small boxes. "This is all there is in here, Sir."

"There should be some in 33a," another soldier offered.

Riley nodded. "Good, then we'll head that way. Okay, this is the situation. We have been infiltrated by an unknown hostile force. We have no information regarding their identity, numbers or weapons capabilities. Our main priorities are to ensure the safety of all base personnel; make sure all captive hostiles are still secured and take back our base. Understood?"

They came back with a quick, "Yes, Sir."

"Are you all crazy?" a soft Irish voice enquired. "Didn't you hear anything that Angel said? There are at least two huge, blood-crazed, demon dogs out there. All those pop-guns will do is piss them off....right before they eat you."

"Feel free to stay in the closet, faggot," said Martinez viciously.

Doyle stiffened but it was Xander who spoke. "You want to die - fine by me. I always thought you idiots were more 'gung-ho' than army intelligence. Oh and just for your information, I'm the one fucking another guy, not him." He stared hard at Martinez. "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

Doyle looked impressed by the outburst and his mouth twitched. Martinez looked incensed and he made a dive for Xander.

Riley pulled him back. "Stand down, soldier." He glanced briefly at Doyle and Xander before turning away toward the door. "Men, move out," he ordered. Clutching the phosphorus lamps, hand-guns, and rifles, the soldiers filed out; Riley exited last, closing the door behind him.

As it shut with a soft click, Doyle let out a deep breath and shook his head. "Those guys have got their heads so far up their asses they won't see a Locksaw until they're drinking its digestive juices."

Xander didn't say anything. He was staring at the door, his hands clenched into bloodless fists.

"Xander?" Doyle shook the young man's shoulder gently when he still didn't respond. "You okay, man?"

Xander abruptly snapped out of his daze. "We have to warn them."

"What?" Doyle frowned. "Hey, we tried. You heard them, they aren't listening-"

"Not them," said Xander quickly, "Spike and Angel." He looked at the half-demon, his gaze desperate. "Riley and his goons are out for blood. Do you really think they'll see any difference between a vampire and a Locksaw?"

Doyle's grim expression said he understood what Xander was driving at. To the soldiers, Spike was a 'Hostile' and Angel was an intruder. That made them viable targets. "So what do we do? I mean, no offence, but you're not exactly nimble in the dark and these guns are no defence against pissed off demon dogs."

"We're not taking on the Locksaws. We just need to find Spike and Angel."

"Who are hunting the Locksaws," Doyle pointed out.

"So?" said Xander, exasperated. "You just want to stay in here and let them take their chances with the goon squad?"

Doyle sighed. "Lets go," he swung his rifle down from his shoulder. "Stay close to me, okay." He muttered something about Spike tearing him a new one if anything happened to Xander.

Xander grabbed Angel's bag and examined his lamp to check it was still operating at maximum brightness.

"You know, that thing's gonna be a like a beacon out there," Doyle warned him.

"Sorry, I seem to have left my super powers in my other pocket," said Xander dryly. He'd rather risk the chance of being seen with the lamp than stumble around blindly without it. Of course, there were undoubtedly disadvantages to seeing the demon that was about to devour you. Putting a choke hold on his fear he followed Doyle back out into the corridor.

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