Chapter 12: Torn Apart

“Walking out in the freezing rain/I feel nothing ‘cause I’ve numbed the pain/Looking forward to looking back/On this day/Prayed last night/Dear God please no/But I was never good at letting go…Good news can be so unkind/When it’s everything you have to/leave behind…” ~Over the Rhine, “Lookin’ Back”

Buffy decided that she really, really hated Wolfram & Hart. She’d refused to let Spike go back to the office building on his own, especially not with Fred worried about what Angel’s intentions were. If he figured out that she was sleeping with Spike—well, Angel had been known to be a little irrational where other guys were concerned.

It made no sense, though. He had left her, for her own good, no less. Buffy was fully prepared to pop him one if he made so much as a snide remark.

The building gave her the creeps, though, and she slipped her hand into Spike’s for reassurance, gratified when he smiled at her. “Do you think Cordy will be okay on her own?” he asked quietly.

“Please, Spike, Cordelia can take care of herself,” Buffy replied. “Trust me. You didn’t see her with the sword today.”

Spike nodded, approaching the hospital wing where Fred had said the sick lab tech was. He frowned, slowing down suddenly. “Somethin’ isn’t right.”

Releasing her hand, Spike strode down the hallway, stopping just inside the doorway of the room. “Bloody hell.”

Buffy came up beside him, seeing the dead body of the man they were supposed to have been protecting. “Shit.”

They looked at each other, and then Spike entered the room, looking more closely at the body. The skin was mottled, and Spike touched the man’s arm tentatively. “Skin’s hard.”

Buffy had no desire to get any closer. She watched as Spike tipped the man’s head, looking for any sign of violence. “Was it that parasite-thingy that killed him?”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t think so. Fred was pretty clear that this illness wasn’t goin’ to kill him so much as transform him.”

“Then what did it?” Buffy asked, creeping just a little bit closer. “I mean—”

“Angel,” Spike said quietly and with conviction.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Spike, I know you don’t like him, but—”

“It was Angel, pet.” Spike shook his head. “I can smell the bastard. I think he used a pillow.”

Buffy shuddered. “But, Spike, why? I get having to make hard decisions, but this was uncalled for.”

“This was premature,” Spike murmured. “Wanker didn’t want to take the time to solve the problem.” He laughed bitterly. “What happened to patience, Angelus?”

His question was so quiet Buffy nearly missed it, but she flinched at the name. “Spike, Angelus isn’t back.”

“No, but you should have heard some of the stories Wesley told me about Peaches when he did have his soul.” Spike gave her a sardonic look. “I tried to tell you for years that the soul doesn’t always make that much of a difference.”

Buffy flushed. “Yes, you did.” Turning to leave, she pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call Fred and tell her what happened.”

“Buffy—” Spike reached for her, realizing that this might not have been the best time for I-told-you-so’s.

She shook her head. “No, you’re right, Spike. You tried to tell us. Hell, you tried to show us, and we were too blind to see.” Buffy gave him a weak smile. “I’m sorry.”

“There were a lot of things on your mind,” Spike said, trying to excuse her, hating to see that look of guilt on her face. Of course, it also felt pretty damn good to be believed for once.

Buffy’s eyes warmed slightly. “And now you’re on my mind.”

Spike stared at her retreating form as she ducked out the door, and a rather stupid grin broke out over his face. That’s the kind of thing he liked to hear, even if it did appear that they were walking right into trouble.

~~~~~

When the call came in from Buffy, the first thing Fred did was to call Wesley. He didn’t answer, so she left a voicemail, and then she marched off in search of Angel.

“What the hell were you thinking, Angel?” she demanded without preamble. “We were working on it.”

Angel glanced up, the expression on his face not one Fred had seen in the past. Wesley would have recognized it; the cold, forbidding look would have been quite familiar to him. “We can’t afford to have some kind of god running around, out of control,” Angel said calmly. “I took care of it.”

“He was an innocent person!” Fred exclaimed. “What if we could have found a way to save him?”

Angel’s eyes grew even colder. “Fred, he works at Wolfram and Hart. No one here is innocent.”

“What if it was me?” Fred asked in a small, hurt voice. “What if I had been the one infected?”

“That’s different.”

“How?” Fred’s voice was shaking. She didn’t recall ever standing up to Angel before. This was the man who had saved her life, who had rescued her from a horrible death in Pylea. He was supposed to be her hero. “Are we putting a price on life now, Angel?”

“It was a difficult decision, but it had to be done,” Angel said firmly. “Ask Wes about hard decisions if you’re not sure.”

“That would be rather difficult seeing as how I don’t remember what you’re most likely referring to,” Wesley said from the doorway.

Fred felt infinitely better for having backup. “Angel, we don’t get to make decisions about who lives and who dies. That’s not our job.”

“Sometimes it is,” Angel shot back. “We’re working at Wolfram and Hart, Fred. You knew this could get tough. If you can’t handle it, you don’t have to stay.”

Her head jerked back as though he’d slapped her, and she felt Wesley’s hand coming to rest on her back. “We’re leaving, Angel. It seems you don’t need us here any longer.”

There was an unseen war going on inside of Angel. He didn’t want to see them walk out, and he couldn’t imagine trying to run the firm without them there. He needed his whole team.

Angel also wanted them out, beyond danger, beyond the law firm’s reach. He’d crossed a line when he’d smothered that man, and even though he was firmly convinced that he’d made the right decision, it was the lesser of two evils.

Knowing that it might have been Fred in that hospital bed, Angel had wanted as many of his friends beyond danger as possible. “You should go.”

“What about Gunn and Lorne?” Fred asked.

“What about them?” Angel replied. “They’ll have to make their own decisions.”

Wesley was tugging on her arm. “Angel, you don’t have to stay—”

“Actually, I do,” Angel replied softly. He met Wesley’s eyes, and he could see that the ex-Watcher caught his meaning.

Fred knew exactly what the vampire meant as well. “Angel—”

“Goodbye, Fred.”

Never had that word sounded so final.

~~~~~

When Spike and Buffy entered the Hyperion, their grim visages had Cordelia standing up in alarm. “What happened? You guys weren’t gone for very long.”

“He was already dead,” Buffy said shortly.

Cordelia frowned. “But I thought Fred said they had more time.”

Spike ran a hand over his face. “He should have. Angel killed him.”

Cordy wished she could say that she was surprised. “What about his soul?”

Buffy shook her head. “He’s still got his soul, Cordy. I don’t know. Maybe there’s another explanation for this. Fred and Wes are supposed to meet us back here when they can get away. I think they were going to talk with Angel.”

“Is that safe?”

Spike was the one to answer her question. “He won’t hurt them. Angel still has a sense of who his friends are, but—” The vampire broke off, and then began again. “This was easier. He’s takin’ the easy way out. Again.”

Cordelia took a deep breath. She knew what Spike was saying. Angel had, in some ways, taken the easy way out when he’d had all their memories of Connor erased. Now he was doing the same thing, probably excusing his actions by saying they were for the common good.

“What do we do now?”

“Dunno,” Spike replied. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Why do we have to do anything right now?” Buffy asked. “Let’s wait and see what the others have to say. We can figure out what to do then, as long as it includes sleeping.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Yeah, I gotta admit I’m knackered.”

It wasn’t good enough, but they didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter, Cordelia knew. She wanted to get out there and solve their problem. She wanted to kick Angel’s ass into the next century.

At the same time, she’d been through this before. There was no getting through to Angel when he was being this way. He had to figure it out on his own. Which just sucked.

“Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll wait.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Wes and Fred both came in about a half an hour after Spike and Buffy got back. “How bad is it?” Cordelia asked immediately.

“Remember when Angel let Darla and Drusilla eat all those lawyers?” Wesley asked with grim humor. “It’s that bad.”

Cordelia scowled. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered. “Didn’t he learn his lesson last time?”

“It would appear not,” Wesley said, sitting wearily. “Although, to be fair, I think there’s more to it than that. From what you’ve said, these last couple years have not been easy for him.”

“Who cares?” Fred asked, uncharacteristically snappish. “He killed a man, Wesley! Because he didn’t want to wait.”

“I know, but he did have reason,” Wesley said gently. He was still wrestling with what Angel’s actions meant. “It may be that he did the right thing.”

Buffy shook her head. “I have to say I’m with Spike.” She’d been fairly quiet throughout the discussion, mostly because she had the sense that Angel wasn’t her territory any longer. This was now her problem only because it might end up being Spike’s problem. “Angel took the easy way out. He didn’t even wait to see if there was another way.”

A thick silence fell. “What about Lorne and Gunn?” Cordelia asked.

Wesley shook his head. “Gunn didn’t seem inclined to listen to reason, and Lorne has been out the last few days.”

“I left a message on his voicemail to come here when he got back,” Fred explained. “If nothing else, he’ll want to see you, Cordy.”

“That would be good,” she said softly. “Isn’t there something we can do for Angel, though?”

Spike sighed. “If we can get our hands on a copy of his contract, that might help.”

“Cordelia or Fred should probably ask him,” Wesley said ruefully. “We aren’t on the best of terms at the moment.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Fred offered.

Wesley stood. “Very well. I should probably head back to my place. It’s late. Fred, do you want a ride?”

“That would be nice.”

There was a chorus of good-nights as they left, and then Cordelia stood as well. “I think I’m going to head up,” she said, her eyes still troubled. “Like Wesley said, it’s late.”

Spike and Buffy watched her go, and then the vampire looked over at her. “What are you thinking, luv?”

“This feels really wrong,” Buffy admitted.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What? Angel goin’ over to the dark side?”

“Yeah.” Buffy stopped there, unsure of how to continue. She was afraid of making Spike angry by talking about the other vampire, knowing that he could easily get jealous.

He frowned. “Spit it out, Slayer.”

“I never thought Angel would be the one to give up,” Buffy admitted. “I thought he was more, I don’t know, solid than that.”

Spike was quiet, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say without pissing her off. “Maybe your idea of Angel wasn’t based on what he was really like.”

“Maybe,” Buffy agreed. “I guess it’s been a long time since we had any kind of talk. The last time I saw him, before he gave me the amulet, we didn’t have anything to say to each other. I couldn’t even tell him I’d been in heaven.”

Spike cocked his head to the side. “I was the only one you told? I thought—”

“You were the only one I could tell,” Buffy confessed. “Partly because I knew you wouldn’t tell anybody, and partly it was because I thought you were the only one who could handle it.”

“You’re sayin’ you trusted me with that information.”

“I’ve trusted you for a long time now, Spike.”

“Even after—”

Buffy shook her head. “Well, no, but when you came back with your soul…” She trailed off. “I never really told you how much that meant to me.”

“I think I knew.” Spike ran a finger down her cheek in a tender gesture. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “I keep thinkin’ I’m in a dream and I’m goin’ to wake up.”

Buffy smiled. “If this was a dream, I don’t think Angel would be in it at all,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but—”

“If this is a dream, let’s not wake up,” she suggested. “I really kind of like it here, possible catastrophes aside.”

“We’ll stay here forever, then,” he murmured. “Or maybe we’ll find somethin’ better.”

“Mmm,” Buffy agreed, her words muffled by his kiss. “As long as we’re both there.”

~~~~~

Cordelia stood by the window of her darkened room and wondered why the hell she’d been brought back, because she was tired of this. Tired of apocalypses, tired of things always going wrong. She was especially tired of her friends possibly turning evil. How on earth was she going to get Angel out of the law firm?

She didn’t have a clue as to where to start.

There were no simple answers this time, although she wasn’t sure there were ever any simple answers. They couldn’t curse him with a soul, since his soul was already there. They couldn’t ask him to leave, because he seemed determined to stay.

Cordelia frowned. It seemed the only way to get Angel out of the law firm was to make him feel like he didn’t need to be there. Perhaps that would mean finding a way to get him out of his contract, or to find a way to break the memory spell in a way that wouldn’t damage Connor.

Or maybe both.

How any of that was to be accomplished, Cordelia didn’t know, but she’d never let that stop her in the past. She wanted her Angel back, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her. After all, Cordelia had always been very good at getting exactly what she wanted.
 


 


 

Chapter 13: If Nothing Else


 

"...For the night sky is an ocean/black distant sea/washing up to my window/all the stray dog night owl junkies/orphans vagabonds/all the angels who lost their halos/If nothing else/ I can dream/I'll never tell never tell/all I've seen/right in front of me,/like the ghost of everything that I could be/in the cool and callous grip of reality..." ~Over the Rhine, "If Nothing Else"


 

Wesley pulled up outside of Fred's apartment. Neither of them spoke, and the silence stretched between them tautly. "We did it."

He didn't have to ask what she was referring to. "Yes, I suppose we did."

"Do you think Lorne will join us?"

A week ago, Wesley might have been able to answer that question with confidence—hell, a week ago he would have answered nearly any question with confidence. Tonight, he felt drained of all knowledge. As though he wasn't quite sure of his own name. "I don't know."

"Will you come up?" Fred asked suddenly, turning in the seat to face him fully.

Wesley's eyes went wide. "What?"

"I don't want to be alone," Fred replied. "It's not—I mean, it's too soon, but—"

"I'll stay." He spoke impulsively, but he didn't regret the words once they were out. The gratitude on Fred's face would have been reward enough to ensure his cooperation. Wesley parked and then followed her up, noting for the thousandth time the slenderness of her frame, the grace of her walk.

He had adored her awkwardness, her rambles, the way she had been so unsure of herself when she had first come to them. These days he admired her strength, her wit, and her determination.

There were things that were worth waiting for. Wesley thought Fred might be one of them.

Fred unlocked the door to her apartment and let him precede her inside. "I'm sorry it's kind of a mess," she apologized. "I haven't been around much to clean."

"I understand." And he did, which was why she offered him a grateful smile.

She felt unaccountably nervous all of a sudden. "I just—there's the one bed. I thought—"

What she might have been thinking, Wesley never found out. He cut off her words with a kiss, needing to feel her, to know that she was alright. He owed Spike a debt he could not repay, because after seeing the poor man, who had been infected with the parasite from within the sarcophagus, Wesley knew he'd almost lost her.

Fred, as he knew her, would have been gone. Their time would have been cut short.

Still, there was nothing frantic about their embrace. Now that they were out of the law office, now that they were safe, Wesley could take his time. After all, he'd been waiting for long enough.

Fred relaxed into the embrace, remembering Spike's question of whether or not Wesley had "snogged her senseless." She wondered if this was what he'd meant, because she didn't feel senseless. Pleasantly muddled, maybe. And her limbs felt almost liquid, but strong. She felt strong at the same time.

When their kiss broke off, Fred gave a happy sigh and laid her head on Wesley's chest. "Maybe you could share the bed," she suggested. "Just to sleep."

"That sounds lovely." Wesley thought it was a dream come true. He had no idea what had changed, why Fred would have gone from assuring him that they were just friends to viewing him in a different light completely.

For once, however, he didn't want to know why. He just wanted to enjoy the moment. With everything that had been going on recently, Wesley had no idea when such an opportunity would arise again.

As Cordy might have said, it was time to carpe some diem.

~~~~~

Spike was still having trouble shaking the idea that this was all a dream. It was all too surreal.

Buffy was here, she wasn't running away, and she was close enough to touch. Not right at the moment maybe, since she was still in the shower, but in principle.

He could probably go join her, but Spike was content to lay in their bed, waiting, listening to the sounds of her in the bathroom. It was very nearly lulling him to sleep, but when she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he tried to rouse himself.

Buffy watched him, amused. "Go back to sleep, Spike."

"Wasn't asleep," he argued lazily. "I was waitin' for you."

"I have to dry my hair," she replied.

He snorted. "And how am I supposed to sleep with all that racket?"

"Then don't sleep."

To the observer, the exchange might have been mistaken for one of their fights, but Buffy was perfectly relaxed, and Spike had dropped back down on the bed. He was watching her through heavy-lidded eyes as she dried and brushed her hair. Spike was only about half-awake at this point, and he relaxed further.

When she climbed into bed next to him, he pulled her in close, burying his face in her clean hair and taking a deep breath.

It was easy to lie there next to her, easy to let the heat from her body seep into his. That last year, when they had fought the First, this was the lesson they had learned: to be easy in one another's company.

"Are you alright?" Spike asked. Sleepy as he was, there was still a worry niggling at the back of his mind.

"Yes, now go to sleep."

"Not until I'm sure."

The rebuke was mild, but it had her turning in his arms until they were nearly nose to nose. "What do you want me to say, Spike? That I was wrong? That you could be just as good without a soul as Angel can be bad with one?"

"Hush, luv." He took her hand in his to soothe her. "Buffy, this has nothin' to do with me. I just know—how even when you don't love somebody, you can care about them."

She shook her head stubbornly. In Buffy's mind, the two vampires were linked. She had been wrong, and Spike had paid for it. "If I had—"

"Don't." He cut her off almost harshly. "Won't have you beatin' yourself up over Peaches. You know as well as I do that year was a bad one for both of us. I could have stopped it any time."

"I never really told you how sorry I was."

"That's because you didn't need to."

The silence that lay between them then was not quite comfortable, but it was honest. "We wasted a lot of time," Buffy murmured. "I thought we had more."

"You never know how much time you have," Spike reminded her. "Either of us. We'll make the best of what we've got now." Tenderly, he cupped her cheek. "I love you."

She didn't reply, although it wasn't because she didn't return the feelings. The last few days had been an emotional roller coaster, and Buffy found herself overwhelmed with feelings she didn't know what to do with. Instead, she moved even closer, hot tears dampening Spike's chest.

And because Spike knew her so well, he didn't try and make it better, didn't try to wash it away with words. He simply held her, knowing that her being there, letting him in like this, was response enough.

~~~~~

Lorne walked into the Hyperion hotel with mixed feelings. As happy as he was to have Cordelia back—and he was most certainly happy—the entire team had been torn asunder in the last few days upon her awakening.

He couldn't manage to be happy about that.

The message from Wesley had reached him before Lorne had a chance to check in with Angel. The news was shocking, to say the least. Just the idea of Angel stealing his memories would have been bad, but pair that with the news that the vampire had killed an innocent and Lorne started to get nervous.

Nervous enough not to let Angel know where he was going—and nervous enough to do as Fred asked and pick up copies of Angel and Gunn's contracts.

"Lorne!" Cordelia came out from behind the front desk as soon as she spotted him, enveloping him in a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, cupcake," Lorne replied, and even the shock wasn't enough to bleed the affection out of his voice. "And may I say you look absolutely scrumptious?"

Cordy grinned, although she tried to hide it. "Stop that. I do not."

"Of course you do." Lorne was all sincerity. "After everything—" He faltered and stopped. "Well, you look great."

"Thanks." Cordelia led him over to the round couch in the lobby. "I take it you got Wes' message."

"I spoke with Fredikins, too," Lorne replied. He held up the thick sheaf of paper he was carrying. "She asked me to pull Angel and Gunn's contracts."

Cordelia frowned, concerned. "You aren't going to get in trouble for that, are you?"

"I doubt it," Lorne replied. "Angel's holed up in his office right now. I doubt he'd notice if the building caught fire."

"And Gunn?"

"Gunn's on our side, Cordy," Lorne replied. "He just doesn't know it yet. Poor boy still thinks that Wolfram and Hart can do good. He has to, because otherwise he has to face the fact that he sold out for nothing."

Cordy sighed. Lorne's estimation squared with her own. Angel was still enjoying his vacation in the land of denial, and Gunn was trying very hard not to think about how wrong things had gone. "I guess when Wes and Fred get here we can start going over their contracts, maybe find a loophole."

Lorne shook his head. Normally he was a fairly optimistic demon, but these last couple of years had taken the Pollyanna right out of him. "Good luck," he replied dubiously. "Those lawyers there know what they're doing when they draw up a contract."

"Lorne, you didn't—"

"I didn't." Lorne patted her hand. "After seeing Miss Morgan? As tempting as the job was, I wasn't about to sign away my life after death too. I'd much rather just stay dead." Cordelia sighed in relief, and he continued. "So where are Fred and Wesley?"

Cordy shrugged. "Fred called earlier and said they had to go back over to Wes' place so he could clean up and get a change of clothes. Spike and Buffy are still sleeping, I think. It's been a really long week for all of us."

"So I can see." Lorne looked around the lobby of the Hyperion with ill-disguised longing. He had been happy here. That much he was certain of. Perhaps they would be happy here again.

The demon just wasn't sure if it would be with or without the rest of their team.

~~~~~

Hours later, the office and lobby were littered with pizza boxes and take-out containers. Both Buffy and Cordelia had given up on the research and were watching Spike, Fred, and Wesley listlessly. They were no closer to figuring out how to get Angel out of his contract.

Gunn's contract gave him an out as long as he didn't go to work for a competing firm and didn't take any clients with him. They had been comforted by that discovery. When—or if—Gunn came to his senses, he could leave. There was nothing stopping him except for himself.

Angel was a completely different story.

"I can't believe this," Spike finally growled, throwing a handful of papers down on the table. "Does he not care about his soul? What the bloody hell was he thinkin'?"

"I imagine he was thinking of nothing else but how to save his son," Wesley replied wearily. "Unfortunately, that does not give us much to work with."

Cordelia rubbed her eyes. "What if he breaks the contract and just leaves?"

"Angel loses his soul," Fred replied, making a face. "Not only that, but it—I guess you could say it goes into protective custody. Wolfram and Hart would still have it. They can do whatever they want with it."

Buffy laughed bitterly. "That bastard. If he leaves and they keep the soul—"

"We can't even perform the curse again," Spike finished for her.

"That about sums it up," Wesley agreed, burying his face in his hands.

Spike shook his head. "What if we had something to control Wolfram and Hart? Something they wanted?"

"What's that going to be?" Cordelia asked. "They're a really powerful law firm. They've got offices all over the world."

"Not to mention in several different dimensions," Fred pointed out.

Wesley sighed. "It's not a bad idea, Spike. How we would find such information, though..."

"Why should we?" Buffy asked quietly. She flushed slightly when every pair of eyes turned to look at her. "I'm not saying we should throw him to the wolves or anything, but Angel isn't doing any harm right now. In fact, he's probably preventing Wolfram and Hart from doing really bad stuff. It might be a good idea to leave him where he's at for now."

There was a long silence. "I think Buffy might be right."

Spike's words hit Wesley hard. Even though the vampire didn't much care for Angel, Wesley knew that Spike was the one least likely to give up. Apparently, Fred didn't feel the same way, because she burst out, "We can't give up on  him! He wouldn't do that to us!"

"No, but I think Spike and Buffy are right," Cordelia stated. "At least for now. If we're going to get Angel out of there, it's going to take time and probably a lot of careful planning. We have to decide what we're going to do in the meantime. It doesn't look like we'll have to pay rent on this place, not since Angel managed to pay it off. As long as he doesn't evict us."

"The Council is paying me," Buffy said. "I mean, I'm staying, and I'll help, but I'm basically a volunteer at this point. Heck, I could even support Spike."

Spike gave her a wry look. "Think I'll pass on that generous offer, luv. I can pay my own way. Just have to find out how."

"Why not start up Angel Investigations again?" Cordy asked, looking at Wesley. "We did okay last time he wasn't around. With Spike and Buffy—"

Wesley began to smile. "We would be in even better shape." He threw a warm smile at Fred. "I daresay the same could be said for having Winifred as well."

"And Lorne?" Fred asked. "Do you think he'd help?"

"He will help," Wesley said. "Lorne is planning on taking his time leaving Wolfram and Hart, however. I think he'd like to start something like Caritas up again, but that will take contacts and money. Lorne said he'd be happy to act as our unofficial eyes and ears."

"Then are we all agreed?" Cordelia asked.

Wesley and Fred both nodded. Cordy glanced over at Spike, who in turn looked at Buffy. "What do you say, pet?"

"If you stay, I'm staying," Buffy replied determinedly. "If this is what you want, I'm in."

A smile touched Spike's lips. "Why not?" he asked. "We'll save a few innocents on the way to saving Angel from himself."

Cordelia felt nothing but relief. It wasn't going to be easy, but at least they had a direction now. They had a plan.

She felt like she had a place again, and a purpose.

 

 


 

Chapter 14: A Meeting of Minds


 

"Go down easy, babe/go down slow./Take all the time you need./We've no place else to go./ You threw a noose around my shadow./Got me into all this mess./I would have dove in first anyway/for less, for a whole lot less./Say farewell to the confines of my own backyard./ Weeds growin' 'round the flowers./Sometimes the only way to break the curse/is to leave it all behind." ~Over the Rhine, "Go Down Easy"


 

Dawn muttered to herself as she struggled to pull the second suitcase off the baggage carousel. Not that she blamed Buffy for wanting her own stuff, and the suitcase only held a fraction of it, but still. You'd think her sister would be grateful enough to send someone to help her if she couldn't get away herself. But, no. Buffy had to—

A strong hand joined hers on the handle, and the suitcase was clear of the metal side. "Want some help with that, Bit?"

Dawn whirled, finding herself nose to t-shirt clad chest. "Spike?"

"Yeah, I—" He didn't get a chance to finish, since Dawn had thrown her arms around him. "Nice to see you too," Spike muttered, returning her embrace.

"How are you?" she demanded. "Are you okay? Buffy told me about what Dana did, but she said you were okay. And the knife! You got stabbed, right? Did you find the guy who did it? Buffy said—"

Spike chuckled, stopping her words by holding up a hand. "I knew there was gonna be hell to pay for lettin' you and your sis talk so many hours on the phone."

"Are you okay?" Dawn repeated, searching his face. Some of the weariness that had been present in those last days in Sunnydale was gone, at least. She still thought Spike appeared to have aged since the first time she saw him, even though that was supposed to be impossible for vampires. He looked better, though, happier even.

He smiled at her gently. "Yeah, 'm fine. You ready to take off?"

"If we can manage to get this baggage out of here," Dawn groused good-naturedly. "You should have seen the expressions on the faces of the guys in Customs."

"They probably thought you needed a bag just for your shoes," Spike teased.

Dawn huffed. "Excuse me? I think you're confusing me with my sister. Buffy's the one with the shoe fetish, not me."

They stared at each other, and they both grew suddenly serious. "I'm sorry, Spike."

"Forget it," he replied gruffly.

She shook her head. "It was really stupid not to talk to you. Buffy told me about what happened after—you know. I felt like—"

"Forget it," Spike repeated, cutting her off. "It's water under the bridge an' all that, yeah?"

Dawn nodded. "Okay."

"You just stayin' for the week, then?" Spike asked.

She shrugged. "It's all the time I've got. It might be nice to actually finish up a school year for once."

Spike hesitated and then asked, "But you're still thinkin' 'bout comin' back here after that, right?"

"No, actually I was thinking I might join a commune in Tibet and make shawls." Dawn rolled her eyes at him. "I told both of you that I would come back. Rome was cool, but—" She stopped, unsure of how to explain that it didn't hold nearly as much charm as the idea of having her family all back together again. She had one more year of high school after this, and she wanted to spend it with the people she loved.

Spike shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the outpouring of emotion. It still felt strange to him that people were so demonstrative. "It'll be good to have you back. You'll have to tell us whether or not the hotel suits."

"I'm sure it's fine, Spike," Dawn replied. "It's definitely better than the old house with, like, twenty other girls, right?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Lot more space than that."

"So where's Buffy?"

Spike hesitated. "Cordy had a vision. It was a toss-up as to who went, but—" He cleared his throat. "She thought we might want some time."

Dawn grinned. "Good. I hope you're planning on buying me dinner, because I'm starved."

~~~~~

Buffy made a face and spat onto the ground. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate vamp dust?"

"Not within the last day or two," Wesley replied, his tone dry.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Just because your head is higher so you don't keep getting mouthfuls of the stuff doesn't mean you can mock me."

"Who said anything about mocking?" Wesley reached into the car and pulled out a bottle of water, tossing it to the Slayer.

Buffy took a long drink. "Thanks." Screwing the cap back on, she looked over at him. "So have you and Fred had 'the talk' yet?"

"What talk?"

"You know, the one where you talk about where your relationship is going and how much it means to you." She gave him a smug smile. "That talk."

"Ah, yes."

Since it was said in the tone of voice that told Buffy that Wesley understood what she was referring to, but not necessarily that they'd done anything about it, she decided to push a bit. "Come on, Wes. Every time I see you two, you're making with the googly eyes. What gives?"

Wesley picked up on the only part of that question he felt he could answer. "Googly eyes?"

"Spike's phrase, not mine," Buffy replied quickly. "And you're avoiding the question. Is everything okay?"

She looked truly concerned, and so Wesley relented. "I—no, we haven't. We've just been—exploring." He sighed. "It's complicated."

"Because of what you don't remember?" Buffy asked.

The Slayer's powers of intuition astounded him at times, especially because Wesley knew just how obtuse she could be at others. "Precisely."

"Look, Wes, far be it from me to tell you how to conduct a romance," Buffy said, her face wry. "Because I tend to suck in that department. You and Fred are good together, though, and you care for each other. Why should it matter?"

It shouldn't, perhaps, but it did. Wesley wasn't sure what he would find behind the locked door of his mind. He didn't know what opening it would reveal, but he was going to try it anyway. "How" was the question.

Wesley thought the answer might finally be within reach.

"I don't know, but it does," he replied quietly.

Wesley started slightly when he felt a hand on his arm. "We'll find the answers," Buffy said with quiet assurance. "We always have in the past, so there's no reason not to now."

Looking into her eyes, Wesley couldn't help but believe her. "Of course."

It was just a matter of time.

~~~~~

The month or so it had taken them to adjust wasn't wasted. Just because they didn't have to pay rent on the hotel didn't mean they could afford to take things easy. Plus, there were the usual start-up expenses, things like ads in the telephone book, in the newspaper, and fliers to post around town. Thankfully, they still had business cards from the period of time when Angel had been in charge.

In some ways, it had been easier to keep the name. "Angel Investigations" had a nice ring to it, and no one could quite agree on a different moniker. They couldn't even agree on a boss. Wesley didn't want the job anymore, possibly for fear that another disaster would occur. Even though he had no memory of it, Cordelia had told him enough to make him wary of the position.

Fred and Buffy were both adamant about not being in charge; neither of them wanted the responsibility, although for different reasons. Cordelia felt about the same way, and Spike had just shaken his head when he was asked. "Still figurin' things out for myself," he'd said. "I don't want to be the boss, but I'm not sure I want to take orders, either."

The solution after that had been simple. The business had become a democracy, with the majority ruling. So far they hadn't come up against anything that would test that policy, but it would happen eventually. When it did, the default head would most likely end up being Wesley, with everyone else reserving the right to say "I told you so."

The best part, as Spike saw it, was that no one was overburdened with the problems that leadership always carried. Cordelia's story about what had happened was a morality play, really. Wesley had been in charge, and he hadn't been able to go to anyone else. It was no wonder that he'd felt the need to take matters into his own hands.

No one could say they felt the same responsibility any longer.

It was working out quite well, however. As many people as they had, the company could afford to run a number of cases at once. And, while they advertized themselves as specializing in the paranormal and unusual, they weren't turning up their noses at routine surveilance jobs, or other typical P.I. work.

Their first case—although that had been more personal—had finally been solved. Knox's body had been discovered. Apparently, he had committed suicide after he realized that he'd failed Illyria. Spike had been more than a little disappointed that he wouldn't get the chance to torture him.

Spike, to his surprise, had discovered that he enjoyed it. Of course, he might have enjoyed just about anything with Buffy by his side.

Even with the constant shadow of Angel and his bartered soul hanging over their heads, it had been—fun. Sure, there had been ups and downs, but it turned out that they all largely enjoyed one another's company.

Besides, after you start saving each other's lives, little quirks and foibles seem pretty tolerable.

"Wow, Spike," Dawn said, as they walked into the lobby of the Hyperion. "This place is amazing. You guys all live here?"

"Me an' your sister do," he admitted. "Cordelia, too. Fred and Wes have their own places, but they're here most of the time." Spike smiled. "Speakin' of..."

"Hey, Spike," Fred said cheerfully, appearing out of the back office. "You must be Dawn." She beamed at the younger woman. "I'm Fred. How was the flight?"

Dawn shrugged. "Boring, but that's to be expected. At least there wasn't much turbulence."

"Listen to the seasoned traveler," Spike murmured, a smile quirking his lips. "You want to see the room you'll be stayin' in, Niblet? I'll bring the bags up."

"I can show her, Spike," Fred replied. "Cordy's back in the office. She wants to talk to you."

Spike frowned. "Yeah, okay. Dawn?"

"I'm good," Dawn said breezily. "I think Fred will give me way more dirt than you will, anyway."

Spike shook his head as the pair headed up the stairs, then went to meet Cordelia in the office. "Cordelia? Fred said you wanted to talk to me." He glanced at the books that lay scattered around her. "Still no luck?"

"Nothing," she replied. Cordelia sighed. "I'm beginning to think there might not be a way for Angel to get out of this," she confessed.

Spike lounged in the chair across from the desk. "Give it some time, luv. There's a lot to be considered."

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "I thought you were the guy that liked to rush into things."

"That was the old me," Spike replied easily, although the mischief in his eyes demonstrated that that trait wasn't so far in his past as to be completely buried.

"What about your soul?" Cordelia asked quietly. "I mean, if Angel went and completed the trials, could he keep his soul? Maybe make it permanent?"

 

Spike's brow furrowed, and he leaned forward in his seat. "Dunno," he admitted. "It depends on the relative power differential between that demon and Wolfram and Hart. If they've got as much as everybody seems to think, it could be risky."

"But there's a chance."

"There's always a chance," Spike replied. "I think we'd better look at a few other solutions before we go runnin' to Angel with that one, though. It's all up to him, an'—"

Spike stopped. Even though tact wasn't always his strong suit, he could wield it on occasion. "And Angel hasn't shown any indication that he wants to leave Wolfram and Hart."

"Yeah," Spike replied. "Of course, if we could hand him his son on a platter, make sure the kid'll still be okay, he might do it."

"You don't believe that."

It was said in a flat tone that brooked no argument, and the vampire winced. He'd kept his opinions on Angel largely to himself. The others were convinced that his grandsire needed saving, but Spike wasn't so sure. "I don't know."

"You think he's beyond help?"

"I think he might not want our help." Spike sighed. "Angel has a pretty lofty idea of his own importance," he said quietly. "He's got an even higher opinion of his ability to make the right decision. Right now, he thinks he's doin' what's best, an' I don't know how you're goin' to convince him otherwise."

Cordelia couldn't disagree, even though she wanted to. Spike—whatever his fashion sense, which Buffy was doing her poor best to remedy—was remarkably insightful. She knew Angel really well; at one point, she would have said she knew him best.

She wasn't sure she knew the Angel that was heading up Wolfram & Hart, however.

"What do you suggest I do, Spike? Give up?"

"Never." The single word had her looking at him in surprise, and she found his blue eyes fixed on her in an unwavering stare. The intensity of it shocked her. "You never give up on the people you love."

His fervent words drew a sigh of relief from Cordelia. "Thank you, Spike," she said softly, recognizing the offer of support he'd tacitly given.

Spike shrugged, uncomfortable with her gratitude. "Yeah, whatever. I'd better go see what Dawn's gotten up to. Gotta take her bags upstairs too."

"Spike." The unspoken question stopped him at the door, even though he didn't turn around. "I think I understand what Buffy sees in you."

He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. "Told you I'm not just a pretty face, Cheerleader."

Cordelia laughed a little and shook her head. Spike never could stay serious for long. She ran a finger over the framed picture on the desk. All the photos of Conner had disappeared, but there was one of all of them together she'd found among her things—Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and her. Cordy didn't remember who had taken the photo, but it hardly mattered.

What mattered was making sure that Angel was out of harm's way. Even if they were never a team again, Cordy just wanted to see him safe.

She still loved him.

 

 

 


 

Chapter 15: Storms


 

"...Sleep with one ear close to the ground/and wake up screaming/When we lay our cold weapons down/we'll wake up dreaming/Obsessions with self-preservation/faded when I threw my fear away/It's not a thing you can imagine/You either lose your fear/or spend your life with one foot in the grave/Is God the last romantic?..." ~Over the Rhine, "Spark"


 

Wesley and Spike were going over the week's schedule, determining who would be taking care of what. Normally, the women were there to offer their opinions, but they had all gone out on a shopping expedition with Dawn. The girl was leaving in a couple of days, and Buffy had wanted to make the most of their time together.

"Hello?"

The tentative call had them both looking up. "Can we help you?" Wesley asked, straightening.

The young man standing in the lobby was looking at them nervously. "I hope so."

Spike frowned. There was something about the boy that was off. He could smell the grief and fear on him. "Why don't you have a seat, lad?" he suggested, waving a hand towards the empty office.

The boy moved forward as though in a daze. "I, uh, something happened. Something bad, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Sit." Wesley echoed Spike's order. "Can we get you something to drink? Or eat?"

He shook his head. "No, it's—" Connor glanced from one to the other. "You believe in demons, right? And vampires and stuff?"

Spike and Wesley exchanged a look. "I am a vampire," Spike said, completely deadpan.

"That's good." He looked completely lost. "Because I think there are demons after me."

Connor was stumbling over his words as he introduced himself and explained what had happened. His parents had taken him to Wolfram and Hart, ostensibly to set up a trust fund, but really because he'd been run over by a van and had emerged completely unscathed. The CEO had refused to help them, and they had left to go to dinner when they were attacked in the parking lot of the restaurant.

Both Spike and Wesley suddenly wished that they weren't the only ones in the hotel, since the poor kid really looked like he could use some mothering. "They—they just came out of nowhere. I don't even know what they were. They tried—" He held out one arm in explanation, and they could see a nasty gash running down the underside of his forearm.

"What happened next?" Wesley asked quietly, passing him a glass of water.

Connor shook his head. "I tried—there were too many of them, and my folks..."

Spike didn't like where this was going. "Where are your parents now?"

The boy shook his head. "They're both in the hospital, in the ICU. The doctors said—they don't know if—" Connor took a deep breath and looked up at them. "I think it has something to do with me. I think something is after me."

Wesley kept his voice as gentle as possible. "That may be so, but what happened was not your fault. I promise we'll do everything we can to discover who is behind this."

"You got a place to stay?" Spike asked

Connor shrugged. "I've been staying mostly at the hospital. I'm supposed to be going back to school soon, but my—my professors have been really understanding about—everything."

Wesley nodded, saying firmly, "We'll be making your case our top priority. If you need a place to stay, you're more than welcome to stay here. We've plenty of room."

"I can't pay you," Connor said. "Not until—I mean, my parents—"

"Forget it," Spike said gruffly. He couldn't explain to the boy that he was family. It wasn't like Connor would believe him anyway. "This is what we do. You'd be amazed how rarely we do get paid for it."

Connor stood. "I should get back to the hospital. I need to—"

"Of course you do," Wesley replied, getting to his feet. "We'll begin work on your problem. If you would like to come back here tonight..." He trailed off, leaving the invitation open.

Connor nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure. And, thanks."

They watched him go. "If I hadn't known, I'm not sure I would have seen the resemblance," Wesley murmured.

Spike shook his head. "I could tell. He looks a bit like his mum too."

Wesley had forgotten that Spike had known Darla as well. "What do you think we should do?"

"I think we need to figure out how to give the kid his memories back," Spike replied quietly. "From what Cordelia told us, he was as good a fighter as Angel, if not better. If he'd known how to fight, those demons never would have gotten past his guard."

Wesley wasn't sure he liked that solution much. "What about his parents? If we give Connor back his memories, but not his parents—"

"Kid's in college now, isn't he?" Spike asked. "I don't see how it'll matter. He has his own life. We wouldn't have to break the spell or whatever with anyone but him."

"No." Wesley was surprisingly adamant. "If we break the spell, it's going to be all or nothing, Spike. I want—"

"The memories are yours," Spike agreed. "You got a right to them."

"I think I know of something that will break the spell, but—"

"Until then the kid is going to need protection," Spike finished for him. "And I'm the muscle."

"You're more than muscle, Spike," Wesley replied with a wry smile. "But I think you and Buffy will be needed."

~~~~~

Buffy felt Cordelia tense up next to her as the young man hurried past them. Dawn was watching him go by as well, but the Slayer was fairly certain that their reasons were completely different.

"What is it?" Buffy asked, as they walked up to the front doors of the hotel.

Cordelia looked over her shoulder at the boy's rapidly diminishing form. "That was Connor."

"Who's Connor?" Dawn asked, definitely intrigued by what she'd seen.

"Angel's son," Cordelia mumbled, pushing through the front doors. "Wes! Was that—"

"That was Connor, and he came to request our help," Wesley said, answering her unfinished question. "It appears that there may be something after him."

"We should call Angel." Cordelia was reaching for the phone when Wesley's hand came down gently over hers.

"Cordy, Angel already knows. He sent Connor away." Still holding her hand, he tugged her towards the office. "Why don't you let me explain?"

Knowing when a discussion needed to be private, the others stayed in the lobby. "Connor was here?" Fred asked. Like Wesley, she wasn't nearly as upset about Connor's appearance, since she had no memory of him. Buffy and Dawn were also rather detached from the situation.

Spike shrugged. "Seems the kid and his parents were attacked the other night. Angel wouldn't help them, so he thought we might."

"Angel wouldn't help his own son?" Fred echoed. "But that was the whole reason he's at Wolfram and Hart!"

"He might have thought it was safer for him not to be involved," Buffy pointed out. "If Angel was willing to give Connor up for his own good, he might have thought it would be better if he stayed gone."

Dawn was still confused. "Wait. Angel has a kid? Why didn't I know about this?"

Spike shrugged. "We just found out a little while ago ourselves, Bit, and it didn't seem important enough to mention."

"Until now," Fred inserted wryly. "What are we going to do?"

"The Slayer and I are going to make sure no more nasties get to Connor, while the Watcher cooks up something to give all of you your memories back, including Connor." Spike shook his head, pitying the boy. "If he remembers how to fight, he can protect himself."

Fred got an alarmed expression on her face. "But won't that be bad? I thought Cordy said Connor went a little crazy?"

"Spike and I should be able to control him between the two of us," Buffy replied, sighing. She could tell by the expression on Spike's face that the idea of inflicting more damage on Connor wasn't at all appealing. It seemed like this was their only course of action, though. As Spike had been known to point out, magic had consequences. It looked like they were running into one of them.

Dawn was still frowning. "Okay, I'm still lost. Angel has a kid, but he doesn't remember who he is? What's wrong with this picture?"

~~~~~

"No, Wesley, this is insane."

"We've talked about this," Wesley replied. "You remember everything, Cordelia. The rest of us do not, and I—I need to know."

Cordelia didn't bother trying to argue with him. She'd seen Wesley like this on a few occasions in the past, and when he got stubborn, he would not be budged. "What's the plan?"

"There's a spell," Wesley said slowly. "It can disrupt the memory spell that was placed on all of us, including Connor."

Cordelia shook her head. "Are you going to tell Connor about this before you use him as your guinea pig?"

"I don't know that I can do the spell," Wesley admitted. "It requires some power, as the warlock who performed the memory spell is extremely powerful. As he was bound by contract to complete the spell, I doubt he would willingly undo it."

"Not to mention the fact that a powerful warlock working for Wolfram and Hart is probably on the side of evil," Cordelia said wryly. "Then how are you going to get it done?"

Wesley sighed. "That's where Buffy comes in."

"You're going to ask for Willow's help."

"I think it's necessary." Wesley grimaced. "Although she may not agree."

"Who may not agree?" Buffy asked from the doorway.

Wesley glanced up at her. "Willow. We need her help when we remove the memory spell."

Buffy shrugged. "Willow's usually up for beating up on nasty old magicians. I wouldn't worry about it too much. I'll call her tonight."

"Are you heading out?" Wesley asked, catching the look of anticipation on her face.

"Spike and I are going to go keep an eye on Connor," she replied. "Unless you've got something else you'd rather us be doing."

Wesley shook his head. "Connor is our top priority at the moment, so no."

"We'll see you later, then."

Buffy turned and left the office, and Wesley met Cordelia's eyes. "Are you in?"

"We're a team, Wes. Of course I'm in." Cordy shook her head. "It never gets any easier, does it?" It was a rhetorical question, and so Wesley maintained his silence. "You're right, though. This was the deal that Angel made that got him into Wolfram and Hart in the first place. If we can help Connor, maybe Angel will be more willing to leave."

Wesley didn't have the heart to tell her that he thought that Angel was beyond their help at this point. According to Cordelia's memories, he owed Connor for what he'd done, for the mistakes he'd made. Perhaps Wesley owed Angel as well, but there hadn't been a chance to repay the vampire as of yet.

Maybe there never would be, but Wesley wouldn't allow that to stop him from trying.

~~~~~

"This isn't familiar," Buffy muttered. They had taken the sewers to get to the hospital where Connor's parents were receiving treatment. Neither of them knew Connor well, and so they were both unsure of whether or not they ought to approach him as he stood vigil.

Spike gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. They were still discussing whether or not to go in. "I imagine being here brings back bad memories."

"You can say that again." Buffy glanced over his shoulder, looking for her sister. "Why isn't Dawn back yet?"

"Probably because we both gave her enough money to clear out the vending machines," Spike replied with a smirk. "It'll be fine."

Dawn popped up behind them. "I think you guys should let me handle this."

They hadn't planned on bringing the younger Summers with them, but since Dawn was going to be leaving soon, she hadn't wanted to miss out on the excitement.

"And just how are you planning on 'handling this,' Bit?" Spike asked with some amusement.

Dawn just batted her eyelashes at him. "Watch a master at work." She strolled up to where Connor was sitting slumped in one of the plastic chairs in the ICU waiting room and plopped herself next to him.

Connor spared her a glance, but no more.

"I'm Dawn Summers."

That piece of cheek got her a startled glance. Connor was surprised enough to return the favor. "Connor Reilly. Do I know you?"

"My sister works at the detective agency you were at today. She's around here somewhere with Spike, trying to protect you." Dawn gave him a smile, suitably subdued in response to the circumstances.

"What are you doing here?"

Since he sounded more bewildered than antagonistic, Dawn answered him honestly. "I'm supposed to go back to school soon, and I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible."

"You're in college?" Connor seemed to perk up a little at that.

Dawn made a face. "Not yet. Next year is my last year of high school."

"Oh." Connor thought she looked older. "Do you know about—" He motioned the the doors of the ICU.

Dawn nodded. "Yeah. I'm really sorry. My mom was in the hospital for a while, and it really wasn't much fun."

"No, not really," Connor agreed.

Dawn touched his arm winningly. "So are you coming back to the hotel with us tonight? It really is a pretty cool place."

"Maybe. I guess." He was still trying to appear nonchalant, but it was because he wanted to obscure his nervousness around Dawn. Connor still wasn't quite as smooth with the ladies as he might wish. "Are you staying there?"

Buffy, watching from just around the doorway, grinned when she heard his question. "Hook, line, and sinker," she murmured.

Spike was shaking his head. "That little heartbreaker. I guess our night just got a whole lot easier."

"Don't say things like that!" Buffy hissed in alarm. "You'll jinx us."

Spike grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I mean our sleeping arrangements. Have you ever tried to sleep on these chairs? Damn near impossible."

"I know someone else who's impossible," Buffy snorted in reply, but she didn't try to remove his arm when Spike slipped it over her shoulders. "That poor kid."

"No kidding. Hard to believe I'm related to him, yeah?"

Buffy started to shake her head until she realized that Spike was right. They were related in a very odd sort of way. "I know," she replied. "He's a lot prettier than you are." She walked out into the waiting room, leaving Spike behind.

Spike was already planning how he was going to get even with her for that comment.

 

 


 

Chapter 16: The Persistence of Memory


 

"My memory will not fail me now./Mmm, firefly in the night sky/only lights on the rise/and I need you so, firefly./One satellite with a lazy eye/caught my by surprise/with an ache in my belly/and a taste in my mouth for fire...After the killing frost/where do you go/Firefly?/ My memory will not fail me now/and the rest is history." ~Over the Rhine, "Firefly"


 

Fred stood in the doorway and watched Wesley as he checked one book against another, his slim fingers sliding across the pages. He quickly made a notation in his notebook, and then went back to the text again.

It was such a familiar sight. Fred wondered how on earth he could look so sexy researching when she'd witnessed the exact same thing before without the accompanying fire in her belly.

They had made some headway in their relationship over the last few weeks. There had been long, slow kisses and casual hand-holding. Arms around shoulders and wandering hands as they relaxed after a case. There was an intimacy there that had not been present before, and for that, Fred was grateful.

Her parents had called just last week, letting her know that they would soon be stopping through on their way to Hawaii. She'd already told them about leaving the law firm, and they had simply said, "Well, you know what you need, Fred. Just let us know if we can help out at all."

During the course of this parental phone call, her mom had asked, "So have you met any nice young men yet?"

Fred's automatic, "Mom!" and her father's remonstrance to let her be, couldn't drown out Trish's, "Well, a mother likes to know these things. Fancy jobs don't replace a warm body in your bed."

Roger's voice cut over hers. He was obviously ill-prepared to think about his baby in bed with anyone other than Mr. Fiegenbaum. "Now, Trish, Fred's smart enough to run her own life."

"I'm dating someone," Fred had blurted out, wanting to tell them. In fact, she'd had the crazy urge to call her parents immediately after she and Wesley had started to get serious, knowing that they would see it as good news.

"Who?" Roger asked, a thread of suspicion in his tone.

"Wesley."

The quiet admission was met with vigorous approval from both parents, with a couple comments from Trish on the attractiveness of her choice. "And that accent," she'd added admiringly.

Remembering the conversation, Fred had to stifle a giggle. She wondered what Wesley would say when he discovered that her parents knew they were dating, and that they were planning on stopping through soon. She knew that Wes liked her folks, and vice versa, so she didn't think there would be any problems.

That was just it, though. There weren't any problems, but there seemed to be a definite sense of space that Wesley maintained between them. Fred was half-afraid that Wesley would view her parents' knowledge as overstepping some invisible boundary. Maybe if she knew why he was keeping her at arm's length, Fred could reassure him.

Because there was one thing she knew for sure—she wanted Wesley. She wanted this relationship to have a fighting chance.

Fred would fight to keep him.

She stepped through the office door, maintaining her silence until Wesley looked up. "Connor just arrived. Spike and Buffy are with him."

"How is he?"

"I think he's okay," Fred replied. "He's had a pretty big shock, and the doctors still can't say if his parents will recover. Cordelia and Dawn are with him."

The same odd emotion flitted through Wesley's eyes that always appeared when parents were mentioned. "Is she planning on saying anything?"

Fred took a seat across from him. "No. She's going to wait for you to do the spell."

"Good."

When he appeared to be going straight back to his research, Fred interrupted him. "Wes?"

"Yes?"

"Is anything wrong?"

Wesley leaned back in his chair so he could view her better. "What are you talking about?"

She sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. "Is anything wrong? With us. You just seem..." Fred trailed off, unsure of how to put Wesley's apparent distance into words without causing offense.

"No," he was quick to say, then seemed to think better of it. After his conversation with Buffy the previous week, Wesley had thought this might come up. "I need my memories, Fred. I need to know—"

"If it changes anything?" she supplied. Fred's face took on a look of determination that he rarely saw outside of her work. It was fixed on him. "It won't."

"It might," he argued. "You don't know how you'll feel about me afterwards. What if this—between us—is a product of this memory erasure Angel performed?"

Fred stared at him. "How long have you loved me?"

"Fred—"

"How long?"

"For years," Wesley admitted quietly, knowing that she wasn't going to let him off the hook.

Fred nodded, satisfied. "Then you're not worried about your feelings changing. You're worried about mine."

Wesley hesitated, then had to nod in admission.

She stood and walked around the desk, bending to kiss him. "I like you," Fred said bluntly. "More than like. And I know what you did, and I know who you are, so I don't see how actually having the memories are going to change anything."

"You don't know that they won't," he argued.

 

"And you don't know that they will." Fred sighed. "Trust me, Wes. I'm not going anywhere."

They might have continued the discussion, but there was a loud shriek from upstairs, and then they both heard Spike laughing. Hurrying out of the office to find out what the commotion was, they saw a blur that was Spike heading for the courtyard.

"Spike!" Buffy stood on the landing, wrapped only in a towel, obviously having been unceremoniously routed from the shower. "Spike! Get back here right now!"

Fred could still hear the vampire's laughter. "Is everything okay, Buffy?"

"That—that bastard poured a whole bucket of ice on me!" she spat out. "While I was in the shower!" She raised her voice so that it was certain to carry outside. "When I get my hands on you, you're going to beg for mercy!"

Then, as though she had just realized her state of undress, she let out a rather undignified squeak and dashed back up the stairs. Wesley, ever the gentleman, averted his eyes. The towel was rather short.

Cordelia, Connor, and Dawn came down a few moments later. "What was that all about?"

Wesley started to snicker. "It seems Spike dumped a bucket of ice on Buffy while she was showering."

Dawn grinned. "Did he? That's awesome!" She grinned at Spike who came swaggering through the doors of the courtyard now that Buffy was gone.

"Had to pay her back for that remark she made earlier," he said.

Cordy frowned. "What remark?"

"That's between me an' the Slayer," Spike replied, sprawling across the lobby couch.

Dawn sniggered. "She's going to make you pay for that, you know."

Spike shrugged. "It was worth it. Did you see the look on her face?" He grinned broadly. "Bloody priceless."

Wesley shook his head, heading back to his research. He could just hear Connor ask, "Is it like this all the time here?"

~~~~~

Spike entered the room he shared with Buffy warily. At this point, he was fairly certain she wouldn't have a stake waiting for him, but it was hard to say. She'd been pretty pissed off about that shower stunt.

Still, he wouldn't have done it any differently. Although Spike might not be evil any longer, he had a mischievous streak a mile wide, and Angel wasn't around to torment these days.

He was halfway into the room when Buffy pounced on him, sending them both flying onto the bed. She had his hands pinned above his head in a flash, her eyes glaring daggers at him. "What was that for?"

"You said Angel's kid was prettier," Spike said, his face not losing the smug smile he'd been wearing since she'd sent him running down the stairs.

Buffy tried to maintain the angry-face, but it was difficult. Spike was just so damn sexy when he was smug, and if it had been anyone else, she'd have been laughing too.

It wasn't anyone else, though, and there was no way she could let him get away with pulling a prank like that. Buffy would make him sleep in another room, but that would mean Spike wasn't in her bed, and she didn't like that idea at all. "What am I going to do with you?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Dunno. You could let me go." His eyes darkened. "I could make it worth your while. Could make you scream."

It was tempting, but knowing that Spike would get just as much pleasure as she would didn't make it much of a punishment. Buffy smiled evilly. "No," she said simply. "I think I'm going to make you scream."

~~~~~

"So how are you?" Dawn asked, poking her head into the room Connor was using. Spike and Buffy had convinced him to come back to the hotel, telling him that he'd be safer there, and if something was after him, he would be leading it away from his parents.

Connor shrugged. "Okay, I guess." There was a roar, and his head shot up. "What was that?"

Dawn came inside the room and shut the door behind her. "Trust me. You don't want to know."

"Do they ever stop?" Connor asked, blinking.

"I don't know. I haven't been here that much since they got back together. My guess would be no, though." She sat next to him on the bed. "I'm really sorry about your parents."

He shrugged. "They're still hanging in there. I'm sure they'll be fine."

Dawn noticed that he sounded less than convinced. "I'm sure."

They stared at each other for a moment before another muffled shout penetrated the door. "Do you want to go downstairs?" Connor asked.

"That sounds like a really good idea."

~~~~~

"Buffy said that Willow would be here in the next couple of days," Wesley informed Cordelia and Fred. "She should be able to perform the spell shortly thereafter. Meanwhile, we just need to be sure that nothing happens to Connor."

"Shouldn't we tell Angel about this?" Fred asked. "Or Lorne or Gunn? It might be unsettling for them just to, you know, suddenly remember everything."

Cordy shook her head. "We aren't telling Angel. He would probably try to stop us, and that's no good. Lorne and Gunn should probably know, though." She looked at Wesley. "What about trying to find out what was after Connor in the first place?"

"I'm looking into it." He sighed. "It's most likely someone tied to Connor's past, and it's difficult to research that given the spell."

"So we wait until the spell is done, and then we figure out what's after Connor," Fred observed, looking out the office window where Dawn and Connor were hanging out. "At least he has some company."

"Indeed," Wesley murmured. "It's probably best to keep him out of the way as much as possible. I do not want to alarm him."

"Any more than he already is?" Cordy commented, a definite note of sarcasm in her voice.

There was a muffled shriek, and Wesley frowned. "What on earth is going on?" He watched as Fred and Cordelia looked at each other and then at him in perfect synchronization. "Oh. I see." The tips of his ears turned pink. "You know, I'm rather hungry. Perhaps we should go out and get something to eat."

"I could go for that," Cordelia replied. "Maybe we'd better take the impressionable kids with us."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Fred said, tucking her arm through Wesley's.

When twin shouts filtered downstairs, all of them hurried out the doors.

~~~~~

Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever had so much fun in her entire life. It definitely ranked right up there, at least.

In the past, sex had often been about domination, about losing herself in him, about forgetting. It had been focused on the pleasure that he could give her, and what she could take. On rare occasions, there had been an undercurrent of tenderness, but their coupling was more often brutal.

Recently, that had all changed. They could be tender with each other now—and other nights they could be rough, although Buffy didn't think they'd ever be cruel to one another again. She couldn't recall ever laughing this much during their love-making, however.

She was sprawled on top of him, Spike's hand rubbing circles on her back absently. They were both sticky, and Buffy was pleasantly out of breath. Spike was still breathing, even though he didn't need to. It had been fun—to torture each other, to see how close she could bring him to the edge without sending him over.

Buffy had a feeling that she'd surprised Spike just a bit with her creativity.

"I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard," she said, unwilling to move.

Spike smiled. "Yeah, it was—nice."

"It was a whole lot better than nice!" Buffy said defensively, raising her head so that she could meet his eyes.

His expression was a trifle awed and not a little adoring. "Couldn't think of a better word. My brain's not workin' real well at the moment."

She put her head back down. "It's too bad we couldn't have figured this out earlier, you know?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean I wish I had known that it could be like this. I wish I had been brave enough to see the possibility."

There was a long pause, and Spike's hand tightened on her shoulder, nudging her off of him and onto her side so he could meet her eyes. "I don't."

Buffy's eyes widened. "You liked—"

"Not what I meant," he said very calmly. "'m just sayin' I like where we are right now."

She understood what he was saying. If things had been different, it might have been better. Then again, it might have been worse, and Spike liked their current situation. For that matter, so did she. "Yeah."

They lay quietly, simply enjoying being in the presence of the other. There was no hurry to move, no troubles to face that wouldn't wait until morning. Spike had nearly drifted off to sleep when he heard Buffy say, "You've spoiled me."

"What now?" he asked, rousing himself with some difficulty.

"You've spoiled me," she repeated. "You're the only guy I want to be with, Spike. There's nobody else like you."

Spike grinned at her, and he looked like a child for a moment. "You're only sayin' that because no one else would have the stones to drop a bucket of ice on you while you're in the shower."

Buffy smiled back. "Yeah. That too."

And they both slept like they hadn't a care in the world.

 

 

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