~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 5

The steady beep of the machines as they monitored the patient’s heart rate fluctuated slightly as the brunette twitched upon the bed.  Behind her closed eyelids, the back and forth movement of her eyes indicated her REM sleeping pattern.  Snatches of a vision, formatted into some twisted dream played out before her mind’s eye, the grim details of her love’s actions enough propulsion to cause her to claw her way to the surface and escape the confines of her coma.  Her fingers began twitching, the sudden movement disrupting the pulse oximeter from her forefinger, causing the reading to disappear from the monitor.  As she struggled to wake up, her heart rate increased from its normal resting state.  The quantity of her respirations increased as she mimicked the panting in her dreams… 

A staff nurse sat at her station near the end of the hall working on her patients’ charts.  Normally, it was very routine paperwork as most of the clients were stuck in some sort of vegetative state.  The steady drone of the machines providing a soft background music that sped along the process.  So, when the first erratic rhythm of one of the monitors sounded behind her, she glanced up automatically to see if there was a malfunction.  Her eyes took note of the increasing vital signs and she dropped what she was doing and raced down the hall.  She opened the door just in time to see the patient sit up in bed, an indrawn gasp of breath before she got out a croaked, “Angel!” 

The nurse hurried to her patient’s side, her sharp eyes assessing for any signs of distress the woman may be exhibiting after waking from a long-term coma.  Surprisingly, except for her slight pallor, she seemed rather aware of her surroundings and with full function of her motor skills – as evidenced by her desire to leave her bed. 

“Ms. Chase, you need to lie back.  You’ve been in a coma.  Your body’s not quite ready to take an afternoon stroll just yet.” 

“You don’t understand…I need…I’ve got to talk to Angel.” 

Stephanie attempted to soothe the distraught woman while employing enough strength to get her to lie back upon her pillow.  “If you just rest, I’ll place a call to him immediately, ok?   I can have him down her in five…ten minutes tops.  But, I need you to lie back for me now.” 

Cordelia gripped the front of the nurse’s uniform in both hands, staring up into her kind brown eyes.  “You promise?  You can get him for me?” 

“I promise,” she assured the woman.  “Now come on…lie back…that’s a good girl.”  Stephanie lowered the woman back to the pillows, carefully extracting the woman’s hands from her uniform.  She smiled then, hoping to soothe her patient.  “If I leave here for two minutes to make that phone call, I’m not going to find you out of bed, am I?” 

Cordelia shook her head negatively, suddenly overcome with fatigue after her outburst.  She just prayed that the nurse would do as she’d asked.    

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy and Spike were on the couch in Angel’s office when he came storming in, followed by Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and Lorne. 

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” the dark-haired vampire barked out.  He stopped before his desk, his back still to them, splaying his hand on the surface as he stared unseeing at the papers scattered everywhere. 

‘What the hell have I become? I’m not a paper pusher.  My place is on the streets.’ 

His features hardened, and he turned to confront his team.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Spike and Buffy rising to their feet as if sensing a confrontation – no doubt in his mind as to whose side they would choose.  Buffy had warned him about this place, and after seeing what he had earlier – nuns brutally sacrificed so that one of his clients could dimension-hop – he was just plain disgusted with himself for ever agreeing to come to Wolfram & Hart in the first place.

Leaning back against his desk, Angel crossed his arms over his chest and repeated what he’d already told them.  “I’m resigning.” 

“Angel, what happened last night was tragic. It's a terrible setback, but—”
 

“Setback, Wes? It's status quo. Evil wins, 'cause instead of just wiping it out, we negotiate with it. Or worse...for it.”
 

“Angel,” Fred began.  She glanced over at the other two vampires in the room, slightly unnerved at the silent, yet penetrating stares. “We're doing the best we can.”
 

Angel’s expression softened.  It wasn’t his team’s fault that he was regretting his decision to come here.  But, after the situation in Rome and the hands-on defeat of that Draemuir demon, coming back to the law office was the last thing he wanted right now.  Last night just seemed to prove his point.  “It's not that you guys aren't doing your jobs. It's that we shouldn't be doing these jobs in the first place... or I shouldn't,” he told them.
 

“It’s a nice idea, but has anyone given any thought about what would happen to us if we tried to say bye-bye? The ramifications, I mean. You think the senior partners are just gonna let us breeze on out the front door?”
Fred turned towards her ex-lover.  “You're saying we're trapped here?”
 

As a minor panic broke out among his team, each talking over the other in an attempt to rationalize the situation, the office phone rang. Ignoring the others, he grabbed the handset, barking into the receiver, “Yeah. It's Angel.” 

“Mr. Angel.  My name is Stephanie.  I’m the shift nurse…oh, you don’t need to know all that.  It’s Miss Chase, sir.  She’s awake….and asking for you.” 

Angel couldn’t be more shocked if the Powers That Be had suddenly shown up and granted his Shanshu.  “What?” his shocked whisper drew both Spike and Buffy to his side, their concern evident upon their features. 

“Angel?” Buffy questioned, placing her hand on his arm. 

He slowly replaced the handset in the cradle then turned to look at them.  “It’s Cordelia.  She’s awake.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

It was decided that Wes and Angel would go alone, so as not to overwhelm her.  And as it was, Wes ended up sending the vampire on ahead, unable to keep up with his furious pace. 

Angel burst out onto the floor, his eyes scanning for someone, anyone, to point him in the right direction.  No one seemed to be at the nurse’s station and he was just about to become angry when he noticed a woman in a nurse’s uniform poke her head out of an open doorway and gesture him over. 

“Hi,” she whispered, not wanting to wake her patient. “I’m Stephanie.  You must be Mr. Angel.” 

“Just Angel,” he told her, looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the woman within. 

“Come on in—” 

“I thought you told me she woke up.  She’s…” 

“She’s just resting.  Her body isn’t used to being awake.  It’s going to take some time for her to build up her strength, okay?” 

“Huh?  Oh…yeah…okay.” 

Just then Wes showed up, and Angel allowed the former watcher to listen to the nurse’s assessment while he plopped down in a chair beside a sleeping Cordelia.  He slipped his hand in hers, shocked to feel her fingers tighten around him.  When he glanced up at her face, her eyes had opened, a tentative smile curving her lips.  He smiled back, grateful to see that she’d come back to him.  To them. 

“Angel,” she whispered.  “I…” 

“Shhhh…don’t talk.  The nurse says you need to regain your strength.” 

“Don’t wanna stay here.  Please don’t make me stay here anymore.”  Her grip on his hand tightened, and he stared at it a moment before lifting his gaze to the nurse. 

“I wouldn’t recommend it.  She’s just woken up from a coma.  She should be monitored around the clock at least for the first seventy-two hours…” 

“Please, Angel.” 

Angel glanced down at his friend, taking note of her pale skin, the almost desperate look in her eyes. 

“Is there anything that I wouldn’t be able to provide for her back at the office?” 

Stephanie gazed at the CEO of Wolfram & Hart.  There was no way he was leaving this place without her patient.  “No…I suppose not.”  She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her cards.  She quickly scribbled down a few numbers on the back and handed it to him.  “Here’s my card.  If anything, and I mean anything, changes about her condition, I want you to call me right away.  Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Angel pocketed the card and bent down and picked up Cordelia, blankets and all, then turned and left the room.  Wesley, for once, was quiet on the return trip. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel wasn’t surprised to see both Buffy and Spike waiting in his room when he returned with Cordelia resting in his arms.  Buffy had wanted to go with him, not trusting the timing of her school chum’s waking, and it had taken a look from the elder vampire to her sire to make her stay.  Which was why they were here waiting - wanting to be sure that she’d not needed to worry for his safety, that he’d not walked into a trap of Wolfram & Hart’s making. 

Buffy felt the dark-haired vampire’s approach, and had leapt out of her sire’s lap.  Wesley was with him, actually opened the door to allow Angel to enter with a sleeping Cordelia in his arms.  As he neared the bed, she pulled back the covers so that he could ease her lax form onto the mattress, his grateful smile at her thoughtfulness causing her own lips to turn up in answer.  Her job done, she moved back towards Spike and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his neck as his arms tightened about her waist. 

Angel sat on the bed and stared down at Cordelia.  She’d lost weight while in her coma, her normally sun-kissed skin as pale as his.  If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he could have sworn that she’d never wakened, her body deathly still in his bed.  His hand reached out and gripped hers, and even in sleep, her fingers squeezed his hand as if reassuring herself of his presence. 

“She seemed almost afraid to be left there.”  Wesley’s comment broke the silence that had descended upon the vampire’s bedroom. 

“I know.  It’s why I brought her here,” Angel replied, his gaze hardening, coming to his feet as he spoke to the former watcher.  After what she’d been through last year, he wasn’t about to let her be subjected to any machinations Wolfram & Hart might think up to keep him in line.  Better to have her where he could keep an eye on her.  Protect her.  “Once she wakes up, we’ll see if she had a vision.  Maybe that was what finally pulled her from her coma.” 

Wes nodded in agreement.  “I’m going to head back to my office.  Call me when she wakes up.” 

Angel watched the other leave, then turned and looked at the couple sitting in the chair by his bed. 

“Why don’t you two go to bed?  There’s nothing to do now but wait, and you both look like you’re ready to drop on your feet.” 

Spike thought that was the best idea he’d heard his grandsire utter in a long while.  Not that he didn’t sympathize with the elder – he’d seen the look of concern on his face as he’d held the cheerleader – but honestly, last night Buffy had wore him out to the point that they’d not even gone to sleep, just risen after their marathon sex session and gone to Angel’s office, only to find him out with the others.  And, rather than go back to bed and actually sleep, Buffy had made him stay there and wait for Angel’s return.  Combine that with his body still adjusting to the time change and Spike wanted nothing more than to slip between the sheets, pull his mate’s body close and sleep. 

“Come on, luv.  You heard the man,” Spike told Buffy as he stood up from the chair, holding her close.  “Ain’t doin’ nuthin’ here but watchin’ the cheerleader sleep, and Angel can do that by himself.  What say you an’ me head on back to our room.?” 

“But…” 

“I’m sure Angel will call us the moment she wakes up…won’t you, Angel?” Spike asked. 

The dark-haired vampire nodded, walking the pair towards the door that led out of his room. 

Buffy, knowing they were right, nodded reluctantly and settled herself against her sire.  “You promise?” 

“Yes.” 

Buffy wasn’t sure what it was that was compelling her to hear about her formal rival’s situation.  But something was telling her that Cordelia hadn’t woken on her own; it was if fate had stepped in and done it for a reason.  The slayer just wanted to know why. 

“You’ll be alright here by yourself,” Spike asked as he paused at the door. 

“I’ll be fine.  Sleep, childe.  I need you strong.”  For what, Angel didn’t know.  It was instinctive, his warning.  Buffy’s caution was rubbing off on him, and better to be prepared than caught unaware. 

The blond-headed vampire nodded and quietly left the room, the soft click of the door closing behind him the only sound as he walked along the hall towards the room he shared with the slayer.

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 6

Once inside their borrowed quarters, the two vampires did no more than shed their clothes before slipping naked between the sheets.  Spike pulled her close, wrapping his arms about her as he curled himself into her backside, nuzzling his face into her neck. He was just about to succumb to the call of the sandman, mere moments away from restorative slumber, when he thought he heard Buffy mumble something. 

“Wha’s that, luv?” his sleep-laden voice asked. 

“You called him ‘Angel,’” Buffy repeated a little louder this time. 

“Huh?” 

“Not ‘Peaches’ or ‘Poofter,’ but ‘Angel.’” 

Spike stiffened in surprise behind her, then forced himself to relax around his mate. “Slip ‘o the tongue, is all.  ‘M tired,” he groused, not wanting to analyze his gaffe.  But, the slayer was like a dog with a bone… 

“Spike, you’d be moments from near death and you’d still call Angel by one of your snide-y little nicknames.”  She glanced at him over her shoulder, her brilliant smile seemingly lighting up their darkened room. “Admit it, you like him.” 

“I do not…and you…you take that back right now.”  Mock anger had him wide-awake and pushing her away as he knelt on the bed beside her.  Buffy pouted at being abruptly shoved aside, but a gleam soon came to her eyes, unknowingly tingeing them amber.  Spike was such fun to tease – she rolled over and sat up as well, sleep put on hold for the time being. 

“Nope.  Admit it.  You like him.” 

“No I don’,” he pouted, bottom lip jutting out as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Spike likes Angel.  Spike likes An—” 

The air she’d been using to speak left her with an oomph as Spike slammed into her.  His spontaneous tickle-fest left her gasping and laughing as she continued to tease her sire.  “I do not!” he growled while he mercilessly attacked every nook and cranny that was susceptible to his teasing touch. 

In between her laughter, her childlike, “Do too’s” rang out, and it was a wonder that someone hadn’t banged on their bedroom door to get them to keep the noise level down. 

Spike suddenly stilled above his mate, his body half draped over hers as he delighted in her smile, her carefree abandon as they’d romped on the bed.  It was as if her past, all the painful hurt she’d experienced before, had just melted away for the moment, leaving behind a glimmer of the girl she’d once been like, had probably been like, before being called.  

One that seemed intent on needling her mate almost ruthlessly. 

Her laughter died down at the lack of over-stimulation to her more delicate, sensitive parts, and she lifted her head to regard her lover. 

“What?” she asked confused, surprised at seeing the intense look upon his face, her face losing a bit of its shine. 

He smiled then, a joyous smile that caused her own lips to return to their upward trend. 

“Nothin’, pet.  Jus’…you should do that more often, ya know.”  At her slightly puzzled look, he elaborated.  “Smile, luv…. You’re bloody beautiful when you smile.” 

If anything, her smile got brighter than before – nearly blinding in its intensity.  Her eyes misting over with unshed tears at his compliment.  The simple words taking on a whole new meaning at the way he voiced them, the intensity in his husky voice as it washed over her. 

“I love you,” she mouthed, cupping his face and pulling him down for a kiss. 

As kisses went, it was far from passionate.  Merely a brushing of mouths in thanks for his kind words.  But, it soon changed – demons forced to restraint now being granted free rein. 

Spike slanted his mouth over hers, the force of his kiss demanding that she part her lips and submit to his onslaught.  She eagerly complied, desperate to taste him now, even if it had been only a few hours.  Since coming to LA, their joinings had been almost violent in their intensity, as if their demons took hold the second they touched one another.  And for Buffy, the fact that she’d only had sire’s blood, except for when she’d had to subdue Dana – which seemed to have only made it worse – proved that her demon was never far beneath the surface.  As if it knew that the only time it was allowed to dominate completely her other half – her slayer half – was when she was with her sire, her mate, like this. 

And he didn’t seem to mind either.  Seemed to know that the near savagery during sex seemed to satisfy her bloodlust, leaving the slayer better able to cope during the time they spent away from this room. 

Now was no different, and Spike tore his mouth away from Buffy’s to flip her onto her stomach.  She gained her hands and knees quickly enough, and he took but a moment to coat the tip of his cock with the fluids stealing from her core and clinging to the nest of curls covering her sex before he rammed his way home.  The slayer cried out at the invasion, her body barely having time to adjust before he was thrusting into her juicy quim with surprising strength from one who’d been on the verge of sleep. 

Her blood seemed to call to him, and he draped himself over her and struck, his fangs sinking unerringly into his mark.  He heard her cry out at the second penetration, felt her inner walls near strangle his dick as she came.  Spike, somehow, managed to ride out her first orgasm, unwilling – unable – to let it end just yet.  He ripped his fangs from her neck, leaving the wound to bleed. 

Instead of allowing her body to recover, his fingers delved into her glistening curls, rubbing furiously at the oversensitive flesh until she tumbled again.  Spike’s eyes nearly crossed this time, but still he wasn’t through with her – his hips never letting up on the punishing pace as thumb and forefinger tormented her.  He could feel her struggling to get away, desperate for some relief from his hand, but Spike was merciless.  

She flashed her fangs and issued a growl, and he growled back, striking her shoulder in a gesture of dominance, stilling momentarily as he dug deep.  Her aggressive nature retreated at the rather painful bite and he immediately let go, licking lovingly at the new wounds until it closed.  Then his movements began again, even more forceful than before, if it were possible.  

Buffy let her sire have her way with her, her body on sensory overload, unsure if she could handle coming again.  The thought had no sooner flashed across her mind and she was splintering into a thousand pieces.  So completely at his mercy, she could do nothing more than whimper as her body convulsed around his again.  Nearly breathing an unnecessary sigh of relief when she felt him return to her neck as he spilled his seed deep inside her womb. 

Utterly sated, she collapsed to the mattress beneath her, enjoying the feel of her sire as he draped himself like a blanket over her.  If she were able, she would have giggled at his deep breaths as he tried to recover from their latest lovemaking session. 

When she felt enough of her mental faculties had returned, she turned her head to the side. 

“How did you know?” 

Spike didn’t even pretend to misunderstand her. 

“Your teasin’.” 

She twitched beneath him, letting him know that it was time for him to get up and let her cuddle. 

“But, I tease you all of the time,” she complained once she’d resettled herself on her side, Spike curled up behind her. 

“No’ like tha’ you don’t.” 

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, a little frightened. 

Sensing her sudden discord, Spike tightened his arms about her.  “Don’t worry, luv.  I won’t ever let you hurt someone.” 

“But—” 

“’S the nature of childer to be submissive to their sires.  The dominance reaffirms their place and provides a sense ‘o security, yeah?  ‘N you were pushin’ just to make me do it.” 

“But…it was just fun.” 

“I know, luv.  And, on one level I knew it was too.  But, I could see…see how bad your demon needed the reassurance.” 

“Is that why we’ve been so violent lately?” she asked timidly.  “Not that I don’t mind in the least…it’s just…I like the soft, too.” 

“I know you do, baby.  An’ so do I.  But, it’s not what your demon needs right now.  It’s strugglin’ to find its place…and I’m doing it the only way I know how.”  He didn’t tell her the other ways he could bring her in line – that stunt he’d pulled in Rome came to mind and he quickly repressed the memories – swearing to himself that he’d never be like that.  It was an honor for him to be her sire, her mate – he’d not belittle that by resorting to the harsher methods vampires used to keep their childer in line. 

“I love you, Spike,” she mumbled, snuggling closer, satisfied with his explanation. 

“Love you too, Buffy.” 

“I still say you like him,” she murmured, just moments from sleep. 

“Well, maybe a li’l,” Spike acquiesced.  “But that doesn’ mean we’re gonna be holdin’ ‘ands and singin’ bloody koombayas together.  Now sleep, childe.  You’ve darn near wore me out, an’ I need my beauty rest.” 

Snuggled next to her mate, she let out an unladylike snort, but did as he requested.  Her eyes drifted shut, and she allowed sleep to overtake her.  Spike felt her body go completely lax against his, and he gave her a brief hug and joined her. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel managed to relax into the chair pulled beside his bed once the noises down the hall quieted.  A cold shower was definitely in order. Realizing that Cordy would likely sleep through his absence, he moved off. 

As the frigid pelting of the spray washed over his hair and bulky frame, he allowed his mind to wander…to think about what had happened since he’d accepted Wolfram & Hart’s proposal almost a year ago.  True he’d given up his son, ensured that he had a good home, a loving family.  Giving the boy the security and protection he’d been unable to provide when Conner was just a babe.  Then, as if fate had seen the selfless sacrifice he’d made, Angel had been gifted with the return of his grandchilde…only to have it later expand when he’d sired Buffy.  He’d been content, if not exactly happy. 

And now Cordy was back. 

Cordelia.  The woman he’d thought he’d loved – had planned to meet that fateful day so that they could discuss their growing affection for each other – was back.  Except for that brief moment where she’d begged him to take her away, she’d been sleeping.  Her body apparently in a resting slumber, which seemed incongruous given that she’d been in a coma for nearly a year.  But, right now, he had no idea what – if anything – she remembered, whether she still bore her gift, her curse.  And, what it all meant that she’d awakened now. 

Just when he’d started to doubt his reasons for taking control of the LA branch of the “enemy.”  The same enemy that Buffy had beseeched him to see for what it was not long ago. 

It made him wonder if it was really Cordelia, and not the demon that had possessed her body last year.  The one that had made a mockery of all the good she’d done since joining his team. 

Add to that the growing clash between Buffy’s demons and the secret she seemed to be keeping from Spike – from him – and Angel was in full brood mode. 

Deciding that the effects of the ice-cold shower had brought his raging emotions under control, he turned off the taps and exited the glass-encased marble structure.  Angel snagged a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his hips.  He exited the bathroom, his bare feet making no sound as he crossed to the huge walk-in closet to throw on some clothes.  With Cordy occupying his bed, and so many matters weighing heavily on his mind, there was little chance he’d be sleeping anytime soon. 

Restless with nothing but time on his hands, he grabbed one of the sketchpads given him by Spike and Buffy as well as a handful of pencils and returned to his sentry post in the chair placed next to his bed.  Shifting all but one pencil to his stationary hand, he used the other to outline the face of the woman slumbering so peacefully.  As his hand flew over the paper, his mind wandered. 

What if? 

What if he and Cordelia had in fact met up?  Would they have been together?  Would Conner be an aberration?  Would he have had to make that deal with Wolfram & Hart?  Carry the amulet to Sunnydale only to have it gifted to his grandchilde?  Would there be thousands of slayers running around, the byproduct of Buffy’s ingenuity?  Would she be a vampire like him, destined for darkness, Spike her sire and mate? 

So many questions.  So many possibilities. 

Like everything that had happened in his life, to those he regarded as friends and some now family, had stemmed from that fateful missed union. 

When his hand finally stilled, he stared down at her likeness, his thumb brushing along the jaw and blending the pencil marks. 

Maybe her being back was his second chance, and not the whim of an interdimensional god seeking to rule a new world.  Maybe it was the Powers giving him a token prize, a return of what had been abruptly taken away, for him to stay the course. 

Towards dawn she started to fidget in her sleep, caught in the grips of a dream, a nightmare.  Her hand seemed to search the huge bed as if looking for something, seeking some type of reassurance.  Angel got up and sat carefully on the edge of the mattress.  His hand clasped around hers, silently proving that he was here, and would look after her now. 

Cordelia’s eyes flew open at the contact.  The deer-caught-in-headlights look only relaxing once her gaze landing on who had been touching her. 

“Angel,” she gasped, breathless.  “Where am I?” 

A smile marred his usually dour features. 

“You’re safe.  You’re in my bedroom.” 

“Your bedroom?” She glanced around, confusion drawing her brows together.  “This isn’t the Hyperion. Where—” 

“Shhh.  It’s ok.” He patted her hand, awkwardly trying to soothe her. ‘When did this get so hard?’ 

“We’re not safe…you’re not safe.”  

The wide-eyed panic got to him, made his grip on her hand tighten almost painfully. 

“What is it?  Is it a vision?” 

“V-vision?  No…no vision.  At least I don’t think so.  More like a dream…a feeling.  But, it didn’t hurt whatever it was, so…” 

“Do you remember... what…that is, why you don’t think it’s safe?” 

Cordelia concentrated hard, as if trying to remember everything she could, before she spoke.  “It was like snapshots, really.  A man, I can’t see his face, wearing these symbols.  But that’s not really that important.  A girl with dark hair, only…only with blue streaks.  Weird demons.  And the shanshu prophecy.  That was in my dreams too…” 

“The shanshu prophecy?” 

“Yeah…” she replied.  Weariness suddenly overcame her and Cordelia closed her eyes. “You signed it away.” 

Angel stared at her aghast.  It couldn’t be possible.  He’d fought hard on the path of redemption.  Shanshu was to be his reward for all of his pain, for what he’d given up to be the champion of the Powers. 

“That’s not possible,” he gasped. 

Shrugging off sleep, she opened her eyes and took in his stricken expression.  As he’d done for her, she slipped her hand free and covered his, rubbing the surface in a soothing gesture. 

“It’s not your path…was never meant to be your path,” she told him. 

“But how—” 

“I just know.” 

“But, you said it wasn’t a vision…how can you be sure.”  Cordelia just arched her brow, reminiscent of the Queen C attitude she once bore. 

Angel didn’t respond, but his shoulders slumped dejectedly.  It may not have been a vision, but what she’d spoken was the truth.  He was destined to be a vampire until he was but dust.

~*~*~*~*~ 

When Angel wasn’t in his office later that morning, the gang came looking for him in his suite.  Buffy and Spike were the first to show, although, they both knew not to go any farther than the elder vampire’s bedroom.  Letting Cordelia sleep in peace, Angel shut the bedroom door and the three vampires moved into the outer room to cluster on the living room furniture to chat. 

The knock at the door took none of them by surprise, having smelled Wesley as he walked up the hallway.  Angel raked his hand through his ungelled hair, the sight of which had alerted both Spike and Buffy to his agitation.  His feet carried him across the room before the former watcher’s loud knocking could disrupt Cordelia’s sleep.  The vampire wasn’t surprised to see him looking just as unkempt as he.  The sudden return of one of their own to the awake and living was cause for much speculation, and research.  Angel wouldn’t be surprise if Wesley had stayed awake all night just as he had. 

“Wes, come in,” he greeted as he opened the door.  Wesley looked up from the book he’d been perusing on his way over and smiled awkwardly at the hand he still held poised in the air. 

“Hmmm… yes.  Good morning, Angel.  I trust your sleep was as restful as mine,” he announced as he stepped across the threshold.  He noticed the two blond slayers cuddled on the couch and waved hello, noting the closed bedroom door.  “Did you learn anything useful from Cordy?” he asked Angel. 

Angel nodded and gestured for him to take a seat next to the others while he shut the door.  He soon joined them, his expression grim as he relayed Cordy’s dream to the others. 

“So, we got us a man with markin’s and a bloody blue chit?  Anythin’ else?  There’s gotta be a good reason for her to suddenly wake up now.  ’m with the slayer on this…seems too opportune, like them whatsit…senior partners are upta’ somethin’.” 

Angel shook his head, and Spike knew right away that he was lying.  But, he held his tongue until the after the watcher left.  He’d give his grandsire a moment to come clean, then all bets were off. 

“Wes, why don’t you round up whatever you can on mystical markings and bring it up here.  When Cordy wakes up, I’ll see if she can describe what it was she remembers from her dreams.  Also, let Gunn and Fred know where she is and have them stop in and see me.  Tell Harmony to cover my calls and reschedule any appointments I might have had for the day.” 

“Give me an hour.”  Wesley walked towards the door to carry out Angel’s request, his mind already running through the list of what books he might need. 

When the door reopened moments later, Angel thought it was Wesley returning to impart something he’d forgotten to mention.  Instead, Eve stood in the doorway. 

“You weren’t in your office downstairs.  Didn’t think you’d mind me barging in, what with Wesley just leaving and all.” 

“Eve, I mind you breathing.  Get out.” 

“Yeah, sure.  In a minute—” 

The menacing growl coming from the couch took a little piss out of her vinegar, but she recovered like the senior partner liaison she was, pasting on a falsely sweet smile as she spoke to the CEO of the LA branch. 

“Er…right.  Actually, I’m here to convey the partners’ concern.  A little issue of you letting a client skip out of our dimension.  Dead nuns we can deal with, but the firm’s out ten million in bail costs.”  Her gaze slid towards the two seated on the couch.  “I ask you, is that any way to run a business?” 

Buffy surged to her feet, intent on putting this bitch in her place, but Spike held her back. 

“Cute…who are your friends, Angel.” 

“None of your business, Eve.  You’ve done your job.  Concern duly noted, only that it’s not.  Now, get the hell out of my suite.” 

Just then, all eyes turned to the door cutting off Angel’s sleeping area from the rest of the room.  Cordy stood framed in the doorway, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.  Buffy knew right away that her high school bud wasn’t up to her best – the brunette would never have been caught dead wearing the backless wonder that comprised her hospital gown. 

Eyes raking over the newcomer from head to toe in a quick appraisal of weakness, Eve asked, “Who’s she, Angel?  New bed buddy.  Although, I have to say, that hospital getup…so last—” 

Angel had her hand wrapped around her throat and lifted several feet in the air before she could finish her derogatory statement. 

“You’re leaving now.  And, if I catch you up here again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”  He tossed her out of his apartment with a flick of his wrist, not caring in the least that she slammed into the wall across from his doorway. 

“When the senior partners find out…” 

“They’ll do nothing,” he interrupted.  “They like their vampire on a leash, just where he is.  Just keep in mind.  I may be tethered, but if you come within my range, you’re liable to get bit.”  Angel flashed some fangs, then slammed the door in her face.  When he turned back around, his human guise was back in place and Cordy was being led to the couch by Buffy. 

“Cordy!  What are you doing out of bed?” he asked. 

“Gimme a break, Angel.  I’ve been flat on my back long enough.  And besides, I so need a shower right now.” 

“Come on, Cordy.  I’ll help you,” Buffy told her, carefully pulling the girl to her feet.  “Angel, can you get us some makeshift clothing to tide us over until we can get Cordy something more her style.” 

“Oh, god yes!  Some real clothes would be wonderful.”  The brunette figured the drab gown draped loosely over her frame.  “Cuz, this…so isn’t my thing.” 

Buffy cocked a look over her shoulder, smirking at the two vampires.  Wherever she’d been before now, the reigning Queen C had returned to her throne. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Cordelia’s show of bravado lasted until she stepped into the bathroom.  There, she nearly collapsed to the marble floor, and would have, without the slayer’s lightning reflexes.  She ended up sitting passively on the shower’s hip-high ledge while Buffy washed her off with a gentleness never before existing in their relationship; the blond had seen the way Angel’s eyes had looked upon the brunette when he thought no one was looking.  Modesty was thrown aside as Buffy climbed in right behind the cheerleader – although she had kept her clothes on.  Afterwards, the slayer dripped water on the floor as she bundled Cordelia in a towel and carried her back to bed quickly dressing her with the borrowed clothes as the poor girl fought off sleep.  

With Cordelia once more huddled under the covers, Buffy rummaged through some drawers until she found an old pair of sweats and a button down shirt to slip on.  She threw her clothes in the hamper, along with the towels – the hospital gown went into the trash.  A quick tidy of the bathroom, followed by a check on the sleeping girl, and Buffy was returning to the living area. 

She plopped down on her sire’s lap and nuzzled his neck. 

“Uh, pet?  What are you doing in Peaches’ clothes?”

“Yeah… ummm.  She needed some help, and I figured it was easier just to climb into the shower with her.” Buffy saw the dark thundercloud forming above Angel’s head and she stopped him before he could rush into the bedroom and wake the girl up. “She’s fine, Angel.  Just a little wore out. Aaaannnnd… I put her back to bed, so leave her alone and let her sleep.” 

Angel flashed her an annoyed look at her having seeing right through him to which Buffy just batted her eyelashes.  With a quick kiss to Spike’s lips, she shoved off his lap and told them she was going back to her room to get changed. 

When she returned, the rest of the LA Fang Gang was present…except for Angel.  Fred and Wesley sat at a table piled high with various tomes, and Buffy was pleased to see how close the pair was sitting.  ‘Good.  She listened to me.’  Lorne and Gunn were talking shop, while Spike paced near the window, looking down at something. 

“What is it, Spike?”  When he turned to her, she gasped, taking note of his tense body, his demon features prominent. 

Seeing her concerned look, he shook it off, his face resettling in the smooth lines of his human mask. 

“Dunno, pet.” 

~*~ 

“Something I can help you with, Eve,” he called out softly from the doorway to his office.  He was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed casually over his chest, and to the casual observer, he appeared to be all smiles.  But, the menace underlying his question, the way his eyes shone with amber flicks, told the female caught snooping in the vampire’s office that he was anything less than pleased. 

“Uh…Angel!  What…Um, I was looking for the contract on the Dwirsknyk demon, something the senior partners needed—” 

“Oh, you can do better than that, Eve, surely.”  The mocking sarcasm, so much a part of Angelus’ nature, had slipped into his voice.  He watched as she began to pace behind her desk, eyes searching frantically for a way out. 

“You’ll never make it.  And, on the off chance that I let you, you’ll only be greeted by my childer.  One of whom would like nothing more than to rip your throat out.” 

“Excuse me, boss?” Harmony called out. 

“Not now, Harmony.  I’m kinda busy.”  His eyes never left the girl standing stock still across the room. 

“Ok, but do I get the afternoon off, too?” 

That caught his attention, and he turned to look incredulous at his secretary.  “What are you talking about?” 

“Everybody’s gone.  The whole building’s cleared out.” 

He turned back to the partner’s liaison, who tried to hide her brief flare of triumph but was too slow for him to not notice.  “What’s going on, Eve?” 

Angel advanced on her, thrilling briefly at the rush of fear that coursed through her body.  He breathed deeply the intoxicating scent, laughing as she thought to run towards the elevators – right where he wanted her to go. Clasping the back of her neck with his hand, he guided her inside and upstairs to his apartment and the others.  Over his shoulder he called out, “Harmony, take the rest of the day off.” 

The vampiress’ happy squeal was cut off as the elevator doors closed behind him. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The elevator doors opened silently into his living room, his deserted living room.  His bedroom door stood open, however, and he steered Eve towards it. 

Cordelia was awake again and propped up on some pillows, a huge book open on her lap.  Everyone else was clustered near the bed, some sitting on it, others near it – but they all had a book open, even Spike, trying to find the symbols in the seer’s dreams. 

“We have a problem,” Angel announced without preamble, drawing everyone’s stare.  “Eve, why don’t you share with everyone.” 

“I don’t know anything,” she lied.

“Buffy…Spike…” he called out in his most Angelus-like voice, drawing instant notice from the pair.  “Meet Eve…the one that decided your sire should spend eternity in dreamland.”

Spike surged to his feet from his seated position in the chair.  Buffy moved to stand as well, but the blond-headed vampire stopped her.  “Uh uh…my right.”  He slowly stalked his prey, a prize from his sire. 

Seeing his evil countenance and knowing Angel would do nothing to stop the other, she caved.  “Ok…ok…I’ll tell you what I know,” she cried, trying to wedge herself behind the dark-haired vampire.  “J-Just make him stop.” 

“Oi, pet, you wound me,” Spike snarked. 

“Tell us what you know, Eve.”  The menace in Angel’s tone had her stuttering out a reply. 

“I-It’s a f-fail-safe…T-The senior p-partners were never certain they could keep you under their thumb, so they created a fail-safe. Housed it in the sub-levels of the building.” 

“What kind of fail-safe?” Buffy asked, joining her mate. 

Eve eyed the slayer-turned-vampire and prayed she’d live through her explanation.  “I don’t know exactly, but it’s huge and alive…and specifically designed to destroy Angel.” 

“How do I stop it?” Angel demanded. 

“Only way to shut it down’s in the chamber itself,” she announced. 

“Well, if that’s true, then who activated it in the first place?” Fred asked as she put her book down and stood up, crossing the room to stand with the others. 

“Couldn’t have been Eve, she was with me in my office when Harmony gave me the news,” Angel announced. 

“Had to be someone else,” Gunn added. 

“Uh?  Guys?” Cordelia called out. Everyone had formed a small circle around the traitor, leaving Cordelia alone on the bed. 

“Someone with the ability to slip past Wolfram & Hart’s security system,” Wesley hypothesized. 

“Guys!” 

Nine sets of eyes pivoted to her. 

She smiled at the group, turning the book around and propping it on her knees.  “These are them!” 

Wesley walked over.  “You’re sure?” 

“Yep.”  She handed the book to the former watcher to let him decipher what exactly the marking were. 

“Protection runes derived from the Enochian alphabet. The ones from your dream are symbols, some kind of concealment spell. ‘Clouds before the all-seeing eyes,’” Wesley read. 

“In English, Wes,” Angel asked. 

“They protect the bearer from being viewed remotely from higher powers, seers, mystics. Or, transposed to today, any means of modern surveillance,” Wesley surmised. 

“You thinkin what ‘m thinkin’?” Spike questioned his sire. 

“Yeah.” Angel glanced over at Gunn.  “Lock down the building, make sure he can’t get out. Wes, you think you can undo the magicks of those symbols.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.  I’m going to need some help.” 

“My dance card is free,” Lorne volunteered. 

“I can help, too,” Fred replied. 

“Which just leaves a li’l matter of the double-crossing bitch ‘ere,” Spike concluded. 

One swift punch to Eve’s jaw by Buffy and she was out like a light. 

“Problem solved.” 

Spike beamed at his mate, and even Angel cracked a smile. 

“Cordy, you’ll be alright here until Gunn gets back?” 

“Yes, go…I’m sure you don’t have much time.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Leaving Spike behind to deal with the zombies wasn’t sitting too well with Buffy, but he’d insisted, almost to the point of telling her to go with Angel with his dreaded sire’s voice.  Something which the two of them would be discussing once this latest crisis passed.  

With Angel pulling on her arm, the two raced down the final set of steps towards an open area, coming to a halt on the bottom step as they nearly crashed into the human that appeared to be waiting for their arrival. 

“Lindsey,” Angel growled. 

“Hello, Angel.  Right on schedule, and with a date.” 

“You always did have a thing for blonde vampires.  Too bad this one belongs to someone else, too.”  Without turning around, he spoke to Buffy.  “Shut it down, I’ll deal with him.” 

“Is this the part where I get all weak in the knees?  Promise not to do it ever again?” 

“It’s a little late for that,” Angel replied. 

“There's always time for redemption. Isn't that your whole thing?” Lindsey taunted. 

Something flickered briefly in the dark-haired vampire’s eyes then was gone. “You had your chance. I guess some people, they just never change.” 

Angel moved in to strike, and quickly found out that his opponent had gone through some upgrades. 

“I have,” Lindsey smiled menacingly. 

Rising from where he’d been thrown against the wall only to crumple upon the ground, Angel slowly gained his feet and assumed a battle stance.  Off to his right, he could hear Buffy banging against the metal contraption as she attempted to force the machinery to stop its release sequence.  He closed off his mind and concentrated on the lawyer. 

Their fight was like a well-choreographed dance, punches and kicks delivered and blocked as the two tested each other’s skill, noting flaws in the execution, the rebuttal.  Their movements blurred as they glided across the room, neither able to find any weakness to exploit and gain the upper hand. 

Eventually, however, Angel began to tire, and then made a slight mistake that allowed the human to take advantage.  Thus began a series of blows that drew blood, cracked bone, until the vampire was tossed against a wall one too many times to remain conscious. 

Buffy leapt from behind the control panel with a speed that took Lindsey by surprise.  Her rage was spectacular, made the blonde almost glow as she flew at him.  Just the distraction that caused him to take a fist to his jaw that sent him flying into the wall. 

Lindsey fought off his body’s desire to slip into unconsciousness.  He was so close…was about to regain everything that had been lost him.  If he could stall just a few minutes more, it would be too late for even the former slayer to save Angel. 

But, he never got the chance.  She was on him in seconds, giving him the beat down Lindsey had recently delivered to her comrade.  With one final punch, he fell to the ground to arise no more, the last thing he witnessed before blacking out was Buffy beating on the control panel to give up its prize. 

The whoosh as the container settled into silence accompanied him into oblivion.  He neither saw nor felt the senior partners’ portal open and whisk him away. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The three vampires collapsed on the couch in Angel’s living room, the two males broken and bloodied, but grinning like loons.  Buffy sat at the edge of the couch near the chair occupied by Cordelia, ignoring her mate. 

“C’mere, luv, and give us a kiss,” Spike teased.  He knew he was in deep shit for sending Buffy away with Angel, but figured the elder vamp would need the most help.  And, he’d been right, as it had been she that had left the human unconscious then dismantled the opening mechanism of whatever it was that had been locked within the container. 

Buffy huffed like a sixteen-year-old having a spat with her boyfriend.  Stupid jerk!  Making her go off and leave him alone with six zombies.  Six! 

Cordelia watched the lover’s spat with a smile on her face, sharing a look with Angel.  She noticed the dark-haired vamp seemed rather jovial, even if he looked like death warmed over.  Having the two blondes here seemed to be good for him.  She took her eyes off her boss to watch Spike sidle up next to Buffy, his lower lip stuck out as he tried to pout her out of her funk – but she was having none of that. 

“Oi!  Buffy…now, pet…it was only six of ‘em,” he wheedled.  “Can’ rightly call m’self a master vamp if I can’ take on the likes of six zombies.” 

Buffy just crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at him.  Spike disregarded her attempts to ignore him, curling up next to his mate’s side, and purring into her neck. 

“Slayer?  Love?” 

She tried to resist him.  Honest.  But, the lower lip thing?  And the mark-nuzzling thing – which, by the way was so not even fair – and she crumbled.  Besides, it wasn’t the fact that he’d fought the zombies by himself, it was that whole sire-commanding thing he would have done.  And, that was a discussion not meant for mixed company.  So, for now, she relented and cuddled into his side, much to the amusement of the other two in the room.  

Spike was too smart to be amused by her capitulation. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The dark-haired vampiress twirled around in circles with her new dolly, Miss Becky.  She’d picked up her new companion a while ago, Miss Edith having become rather stingy with her visions. 

But, not Miss Becky.  No, Miss Becky told of the red that was going to paint the home of her Daddy.  Told Drusilla it was time to make her way to the city of Angels.  Her family was there after all.  And, a new one to soon join… 

Yes, it was time to leave the City of Sin, the city that never sleeps.  Time to take her precious under her wing. 

Unmindful of the dead bodies littering the floor of the seedy after-hours nightclub, she danced to the tune in her head, her dolly held at arms length.  She hummed a tune, whispering about tea parties and dresses and such, amber eyes gleaming with delight.

Chapter 7:

Angel eyed his team from his seated position in the middle of the table.  Spike and Buffy had left a while ago; well, more like after the third time the group had repeated the same story about Eve and Lindsey and the group’s lack of progress in determining where the duplicitous pair had holed up.  He was ready to call it a night himself.  Cordelia was upstairs sleeping peacefully, but he was nervous… afraid even.  Like if he weren’t standing watch over her, she’d just disappear.  Vanish without a trace.

Rising to his feet, he concluded the meeting and told his people to get some rest.

“I would, but I’ve got five or six more hours of spell detailing to do,” Wesley replied.

“Yeah.  I got a mess of briefings to go through,” Gunn added.

“And I have to redo the entire Trask experiment.  Knox really dropped the ball on that one,” Fred retorted in a rare moment of blame-laying. 

“Yes, he is unreliable.  Good point,” Wesley commented.

Fred rolled her eyes at the Englishman, but couldn’t prevent the small smile that formed on her lips as he badmouthed the guy that seemed determined to ask her out.

“Wes!” she admonished.

“What?  I’m just agreeing with you,” he told her as he stepped through the doorway leading out into the main office foyer.

Angel, as the last one out, pulled the office door closed behind him.  He paused for a moment, hand still on the door knob, as he thought he felt the presence of his childer – and not Spike and Buffy either.  The sensation was soon gone, however, and he shook himself and released the handle, mumbling a distracted goodbye to the others as he walked towards the private elevators that led to his apartment.

“Bye, Angel,” Fred called out cheerfully before turning to Wesley and asking, “Do you want to join me.  To…you know…work on your spell stuff while I fix the Trask experiment?”

“Okaaaaaaay…” Gunn slapped Lorne on the back.  “Come on, Lorne.  How ‘bout I buy you a drink before I start on the stack of depositions sitting on my desk?  Leave these two lovebirds alone.”

The green-skinned demon seemed upset that he’d been kept out of the loop on the latest office romance brewing right beneath his nose, grumbling under his breath about people needing to sing a bit more often. He allowed Gunn to lead him away from the pair blushing like teenagers caught by their parents while in the midst of some heavy petting.

“We could go to Caritas…” Gunn’s voice drifted back to the pair still frozen by the stairs.  “…I can dazzle you with my rappin’ skills….”

“Please, god, no,” they thought they heard as the elevators closed on the two men.

“So….” Wesley began after they were alone in the foyer.  “…a joint work session.”

Fred blushed some more, but refused to back down.  Giving him her sassiest smile, she told him, “Uh huh,” before making her way up the stairs that led to her office. 

Wesley, not mistaking the look in her eyes, hurried after her.

Both were oblivious to the twin sets of eyes that followed their departure.

~*~

“Tell me again why we’re allowing them to leave,” Sam demanded of the dark-haired vampiress.  She’d snuck up on him early as he’d hidden one level up, watching intently as his Sire and the others entered the meeting room.

“Naughty boy!” she sing-songed, dancing in a circle about him.  “Mustn’t spoil the tea party.”

The vampire rolled his eyes at the crazed woman and moved to go around her but had barely managed to skirt past when he was stopped cold by a hand at his throat.  His neck felt like it had been locked in a vise that was slowly squeezing him to death.

“Who are…” he managed to gasp out as he stared into her surprisingly lucid gaze.

Drusilla cocked her head to the side as she regarded him.

“Bad daddy,” she commented.  “Not telling you about—”

She lifted her head suddenly, as if sensing another’s approach.  Her eyes closed in delight and she hummed a few faint strands of some melody he’d never heard before.  He tried to get free once more, but her grip hadn’t loosened even a fraction of an inch.  The spell was over just as quickly as it had begun, and she’d pinned him in place with a look.

“Later,” she told him.  “Come…before they realize we’re here.  Don’t want to spoil the surprise.  Miss Becky does so love a good surprise.  You don’t want to spoil Miss Becky’s fun, do you?”

“Uhh….no?”

Sam didn’t know who this vampiress was, but realized that for all her crazy ramblings, she was powerful in her own right.  And, right now, he really didn’t want to piss her off.  So, if she wanted to wait, he’d wait.  After all, it wasn’t like Angelus – or Angel, as the vampire was calling himself these days – was going anywhere.

And neither was he.

“Good boy!”

Drusilla released him immediately, clapping her hands excitedly as she bounced off towards the exit, her nature reverting to that almost child-like innocence of before.  The pair escaped out of the Wolfram & Hart law offices before anyone was the wiser.

Why he followed after her was anyone’s guess.  She’d intrigued him about the daddy comment.  Then there was the whole tea party that sounded like fun, especially if it caused his Sire pain.

~*~*~*~*~

The week seemed to slip by for Buffy, only because there seemed to be a lull in the aftermath of Eve’s deception.  The absence of the senior partner’s influence had confounded even Angel.  Which was why the Slayer was waiting anxiously for the other shoe to drop.  Even her conversations with Lorne produced no results; the green-skinned demon couldn’t tell her any more than he had at Christmas, hadn’t even commented on the subtle alterations she’d made.  Apparently, since Cordy’s return, his “visions” regarding those among the LA gang had dried up like the proverbial well.

His statement seemed to ring false with the Slayer, given the haunted look about his eyes, but she didn’t prod him further.  Instead, she concentrated her energies on those around her, her eyes and ears alert to everything and everyone.  When her behavior was commented on by either Spike or Angel, she shrugged their concern aside.  Buffy knew the two talked when she wasn’t around; she’d caught hints of their silent communication when they thought she wasn’t looking.  But, she couldn’t share her concern with them.  She’d interfered enough as it was, and to have more in the know…it only invited disaster.

The stress of the situation seemed to be getting to her, which caused her to sleep later than usual today.  Spike had obviously already left the room, no doubt trying to let her sleep.  Buffy quickly showered and dressed, gulped down two packets of blood – human, per her Watcher’s request – and hurried from the room.

Not sensing either male vampire, or Cordelia, on the above floor, Buffy took the private elevator that opened directly into Angel’s office.  When the doors opened, she was greeted by Angel, Spike and Cordelia – all of them huddled around the desk as the sound of Giles’ voice came over the speaker phone.

“…not having much luck, I’m afraid,” he was saying.

“Well, keep on it, Rupert.  Wes is also looking into the matter,” Angel replied as he glanced over and noticed Buffy standing just outside the elevators.  He waved her over.  “Buffy!  Come say hello to Giles.”

She smiled and walked over, snuggling into her mate as he sat propped on the arm of one of the chairs.  “Hey, Giles!”

“Buffy!  Hello!  How are you?”

“Oh, the usual,” she replied.  “Dealing with two overprotective males.  But, with Cordy back in the land of the living, at least the scales have balanced.”

“Balanced, my arse,” Spike grumbled.  Buffy punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder, but grinned at her female coconspirator. 

“Yes, well, I’m sure they only have your best interests at heart.  You’re not giving them any problems with the human blood, are you?”

“No…sheesh!  Did Spike put you up to it?”

“Put me up to what?” Giles asked, clearly confused.

“To hound me about feeding,” Buffy grumbled.

“No.  And even if he did, we just want…”  His sigh could be heard clearly over the phone.  “One of these days I’m going to learn not to fall for your leading questions.”

Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing, but unfortunately, her watcher couldn’t see.

“Just as contrary as Dawn,” he mumbled.

“How is Dawnie?” Buffy asked.

“She’s doing well.  A sight more dedicated to her studies than someone else I could mention.”

“That’s not fair!  She doesn’t have the whole ‘Chosen One’ label to deal with like I did,” Buffy griped.

“Be that as it may… She’s really amazing.  She’s been very mature about this whole separation and even comes in to help me research once she’s finished with her homework.  Rome definitely agrees with her.”

“I….that’s good to hear, Giles.  Is she there?”

“Sorry, Buffy.  I’m afraid not.  She and a few of the girls went to a movie earlier.  They’re not due back for another hour or so.  I can have her call you when she gets in.”

“Ok.  Thanks, Giles.”

“Well, I suppose I should get back to the research.  I’ll call you if anything turns up.”

“Bye, Giles.  I love you.”

“Goodbye, Buffy.  Spike.  Angel.  Cordelia, nice to hear your voice again.”

“Thanks, Giles,” Cordelia replied.

The sound of the line ringing off could be heard and Angel punched a button to disconnect the speaker phone.

“Boss?” Harmony’s voice sounded over the phone’s intercom.

“Yeah, Harmony?” Angel replied as he pressed the answer button.

“Nina’s here.”

He looked through the glass to see Nina standing in front of Harmony’s desk. “I’ll be right out.”

Angel turned back to the others and took in their curious looks. “I’ll be back in a minute…I’ve got…this thing….” He trailed off and made a hasty exit out of his office.

“Did he seem a tad embarrassed?” Buffy asked of no one in particular.

“I’ll say,” Cordelia grumbled.

 

“Peaches doesn’t know how to do embarrassed, pet.  He’s got only one expression… brood,” Spike commented at the same time.

~*~*~*~*~

When Angel got back to his office, he found it deserted except for Spike.

“Where are the—”

“Shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Uh huh.  Have to say… you really messed that one up, Peaches.  Cheerleader stormed out of here with an evil glint in her eyes.  Slayer went along to keep her company.  Safe to say your wallet’s gonna take a hit.”

“Think it’ll work?”

“The truth?”

Angel nodded.

Spike shook his head.  “Only thing’s gonna fix this is a full-blown confession.”

“She asked me to breakfast.”

“The cheerleader?”

“No…Nina.”

“Ahh… wolfgirl.  What did ya say?”

“Nothing.  I locked her in her cage and took off out of the room.”

Spike quirked his brow.

“See…the thing is…before Cordy came back, I might have entertained the idea.  But now—”

“You want to see where this thing with her is going,” Spike concluded.

“We were supposed to meet, you know.  Point Dume.  I’ll never forget.  Only…”

“Only?”

“Never mind.  It’s not… Important thing is…we never got a chance to say what we both felt.  I’d finally let Buffy go.  Was going to see about this thing with Cordelia.  And now she’s back.  And now Nina’s in the picture.”

“Right pickle you’re in there, mate.”

Angel frowned at his grandchilde.  A knock sounded at the door, and both vampires turned to see Fred, followed by Wesley, enter the office.

“Hey, guys.  I think I have a case.”

“Thank god!” Angel exclaimed.

Fred walked over to the desk and handed Angel the file in her hands.

“Children's epidemic,” she told him. “Seven kids, comatose, each with a semi-rictus of the facial muscles. I haven't been able to isolate a causative agent.”

“You think it's mystical.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Well, I've been down the strictly physiological route, number-crunched all the victims' charts, even had our hospital contacts send over blood samples. I've pulled all their plasma apart. No indicators on the cellular or subcellular levels.”

Angel continued to flip through the pages of the file while Fred explained.  “TV,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Parents said all the kids collapsed between 7:00 and... looks like 7:30A.M. And all of them in front of the TV.”

“Huh. That could be something, but I'd still like to get a handle on the pathology.”

“Good. I'll—I'll follow up on this lead.  Spike, let the girls—”

“Will do.”

~*~*~*~*~

Angel was never so grateful to be the CEO of Wolfram and Hart as he was right now; it allowed him to sneak into his office unseen from the parking garage via his private elevator.  Or, it would, if he could reach the key slot with his key.  He hopped up and down a few times trying to slam the key into the hole.  After the third time, he gave up on that approach and looked around for something to stand on.

Grumbling under his breath all the while, he finally located a discarded box.  It took him a while since his legs were now cropped to midget length, given that he’d somehow been turned into a damn puppet.  His gait was awkward as he tried to carry the box back to the elevator, its size making it difficult for him to see.  Eventually, though, he reached the elevator, but only after having tripped over the curb and nearly crushing his “boost.”

With the box in place, Angel carefully stepped onto it and inserted his key that gained him instant access to his personal elevator.  Inside, he had another problem reaching the button that would take him to his private office and had to grab the box he’d left outside, nearly getting squished as the doors started to close.  The cardboard box didn’t survive the second attempt as a stepstool, crumbling under the puppet’s weight seconds after Angel had managed to push the necessary button.  The entire ride to the top floor was spent trying to disengage his feet from the hole he’d made.

The doors opened without a sound a moment later, and Angel was relieved to find his office empty – he was already dreading the explanations to his team.   Oh, who was he kidding?  He was trying to avoid having Spike find out, knowing the insolent vampire would take extreme delight in teasing him mercilessly.

He spent the remainder of the night brooding at his desk, waiting for the moment Fred got in.  If anyone could fix his problem, it would be she.

~*~*~*~*~

“He hasn’t been back?” Buffy asked Cordelia.

“Nope.  I ended up falling asleep on the couch waiting for him to get back,” she replied.

Buffy turned to Spike.

“Don’t look at me, pet.  Last I saw him, he was lighting out of his office talking about researching leads on what happened to those kids.”

The Slayer walked to the elevator that led to Angel’s office.  Cordelia and Spike trailed after her.  The trio got out just as the elder vampire commented, “Oh, there’s a problem.”

“Whoa!” Gunn took a step back as Angel swiveled in his chair to reveal Angel…only in puppet form.

“Angel, is that… you?” Wesley questioned.

“Oh my God!” Fred rushed to his side.  “Angel….you’re….”

Buffy beat the girl to him.  “Angel!  Oh….”

“Buffy,” Angel growled.

“….how cute!”  Ignoring the growls coming from the vampire-turned-puppet, she lifted him out of his chair and cuddled him close.  Fred and Cordelia quickly joined in, fawning over the cuddly softness that was now Angel.

“Awww….look at his little hands,” Fred gushed.

“And his hair,” Cordelia added.

“And he’s so squeezably soft,” Buffy added, hugging Angel tightly against her chest.

Spike growled possessively.

Angel wiggled his faux eyebrows at him.  Being turned into a puppet might not be so bad after all.

“Oi! Slayer!  Let ‘im go already.  So the poofter’s a bloody stuffed animal.  Who cares?”  Spike’s eyes narrowed on his grandsire as he lapped up the attention.  Buffy and the others ignored him.

Spike rolled his eyes at the fawning women and stalked over to the bar, pouring himself a drink as he muttered under his breath.

“Sorry I’m late, gang,” Lorne announced as he sailed into the office.  “Uh, what’s with the puppet?”

“That’s Angel,” Wesley told him.

“Whoa!”

“That’s what I said,” Gunn commented.

“Uh…Angel?” Wesley called out.  “Angel!”

“Slayer, would ya let the Toys ‘R Us reject go already, the watcher’s tryin’ to talk to the git.”

“Erm, yes…I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but, uh… yes…Angel, what happened?”

“I'm not sure,” Angel replied as he shifted on Buffy’s lap to look at Wesley, Gunn, and Lorne. “I went over to Smile Time last night, and I think their office is under some kind of spell. I could feel it trying to get at me. I—I shook it off, but then I met this guy with a towel over his head, and something exploded! I woke up like this. Ugh.”

“Not ugh.  Cute,” Cordelia interjected, fluffing his spiky hair.

“Hey!  Not the hair.”

“They make hair products for plush toys?” Spike snarked.

Buffy’s firm grip prevented the elder vamp from launching himself off her lap as he vamped out and growled.  Spike started laughing as soon as he got a look at him, pointing as he gasped, “Ooooh…the wee li’l puppet man has fangs.”

The Slayer frowned at her mate, but understood his mirth.  Angel as a puppet was cute; Angel as a vampire puppet was kind of silly.  Still….

It wasn’t nice to make fun of family in front of others.

“Hey, it’s Smile Time!” Angel exclaimed as he jumped off Buffy’s lap and hurried over to stand in front of the TV, having just got a look at the time.

The opening music to the program resounded in the room as Lorne cut on the television.

Fred picked up Angel’s phone and dialed her office.  “Tracy, record the program that's running on channel 12 right now. Use everything. I'm gonna need a full-spectrum analysis.”

Angel growled as the overly-cheerful puppets sang on screen.  “I want everything there is to know about Smile Time and its creators on my desk in an hour.  Nobody does this to me and gets away with it.”  When everyone remained where they were he shouted, “Let’s move, people.”

Team Angel hurried out of the office leaving just Spike, Buffy, and Cordelia behind.

“Little harsh there, don’t you think, Angel?” Cordelia commented.

“Look at me, Cordy.  I’m a puppet!”

“Still doesn’t give you cause to yell at your people like that.”

Angel hobbled back to his chair on his short, stubby legs.  He hopped up on the seat, sighing heavily as he leaned back.  “I know…”

“You have to apologize.”

“I…I will.  Just as soon as they figure out—”

A knock sounded at the door and a moment later, Nina peeked her head inside.

“Angel?”

“Nina…uh…now isn’t exactly—”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize you had someone with you.  I’ll go.”

“No…wait.  Come in.”

Nina stepped inside the office, closing the door behind her.

“Angel!  What happened?”  She’d just gotten a look at him in his chair.

“Long story.  Went up against some big….thing….and it turned me into a puppet.  My team is working on it now.  Should be back to normal in no time.”

“Oh….”

“Well….I…uh…You’re busy…I’ll let you get back to work.”  The blonde hurried to the door and was gone before Angel had a chance to call her back.

“Really bolloxed that one up.”

“Spike,” he growled.

“Wot?  ‘M jus sayin’.”  He arched a brow, daring his grandsire to contradict him.

“Yeah, well don’t.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Buffy and Cordelia rolled their eyes at their childish actions.  Men!

~*~*~*~*~

In the end, taking out the puppet demons running Smile Time was rather anticlimactic.  So much so, that Spike and Buffy just stood by while Angel and his gang did all the work.  Spike, however, managed to get a few digs in about the lack of Angel’s fighting style, causing the other to ground out, “I’d like to see you do any better as a damn puppet!”

With the baddies destroyed, Angel had used his cell phone to call in the clean-up crew and the small group had returned to Wolfram and Hart.

The one good thing that had come out of the entire mess was that Fred and Wesley were officially a couple now; the Texan had cornered the former watcher after she’d finished her spell, kissing him senseless in the hopes that he’d get the picture.  Now, huddled together on the couch in Angel’s office, the pair seemed glued at the hip – which, to Buffy, was a good thing.

“Fred?  Fred!” Angel finally shouted.

“Hmmm…”

“How long before this wears off?”

“Two….maybe three days,” she answered.

“Three days!”

The office door burst open suddenly and Dawn came barreling into the room.

“Dawnie!”  Buffy jumped out of Spike’s lap and raced to her sister’s side.  “What are you doing here?”

“It’s spring break.  Giles said we could come visit….well, Spike and Angel planned the whole thing,” she replied as she hugged her sister.  “I’ve missed you!”

“Oh, Dawnie!  I’ve missed you too!  Now come…tell me how school’s going?”

Giles walked in as the pair plopped down on the couch.

“Rupert, glad you could make it,” Spike greeted.  “Tea’s at the bar.  Had it put on when you guys landed.”

Giles’ look said it all.

Spike smirked in response.

‘Bloody colonials.’

“How long can you stay?” Buffy asked.

“For a week….ummm….Buffy?” Dawn was looking over her sister’s shoulder at the desk chair occupied by Angel.

“Hmmmm?”

“What’s with the doll?”

Spike’s booming laughter resounded throughout the room.