Title: You Forgot To Mention Hell, Horatio
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Status: Complete
Warnings: Nope. Not this time.
Category: Crossover with Highlander
Disclaimer: All other characters belong to their respective owners and are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
This is what happens when you get involved with too many different fandoms.
Universe setting: For you Highlander fans, this story takes place sometime after ‘Archangel’ (sorry to all those Richie Forever people). Please forgive me for playing with the timelines of the shows, but hey, it’s fan-fic and I can do that ;-)
Thanks: As always, to Carrie, and to Marius, the oak and the ash to my birds in the forest.

“Do you submit?” Eleni asked for the third time in as many hours. She was obviously growing impatient at Angel’s steadfast refusal to bend to her will. Narrowing her eyes in anger, she repeated her question coldly. “Do. You. Submit?”

There was blood everywhere --his blood -- flowing out of his veins to soak both his clothing and the mattress beneath him. Given his unnaturally low temperature, the fluid was already cold when it exited his body. With the added dampness of the subterranean air, Angel’s large form shivered uncontrollably. No longer capable of concealing the demon within, he’d been wearing his game face for the past few hours. Due to the extent of his blood loss, the vampire’s wounds had long since stopped healing.

Yet, despite his steadily weakening condition, Angel still managed to snarl out his answer.

“Fuck you.”

“In time, bellisimo,” Eleni grinned. Once again, she forced the metal edges of the cuffs deeper into the existing cuts on his wrists before turning to exit. “In time.”

In the end, Giles fears about the dangers involved proved to be unfounded -- thanks to Willow’s suggestion. Using their normal ‘helpless couple’ routine as bait, the Slayerettes got their workout for the evening against a pack of eleven vampires. It was a close fight, especially without Angel’s much-needed presence, but together the librarian and the students managed to take out eight of them before the survivors turned to flee into the night.

That was when Adam came into it. From his distant position by the cars, he targeted one of the retreating vampires and shot a tranquilizer dart directly into the center of its back. It barely ran another twenty feet before it collapsed to the ground unconscious. Its brethren were too self-absorbed in their own escape to notice their fallen friend. Using the net as a safety measure, the Slayerettes brought the male vampire to the library.

They were in the process of placing him in the caged weapons locker when he began to wake. Before they could chain him up, the vampire started to thrash about madly. Fortunately, however, they managed to get out of the cage and lock the door before anybody was hurt. As they caught their collective breaths after the close call, one by one all eyes turned toward the Immortal that was the source of the vampire’s agitation.

In a repeat of his actions from the night before, Adam warily made his way to the cage. The closer he came to the captive, the more insane the vampire grew. In fact, it was so violent, it made Angel’s initial reaction look like a child throwing a temper tantrum. This vampire was repetitively screaming at the top of his lungs as he threw himself against the walls, blindly seeking any egress.

“Look at me!” Adam yelled, but the creature was far beyond the ability to comprehend the words. And from his position on the outside of the cage, there was little the Immortal could do. Finally, Adam turned to Giles. “Open it up.”

“Are you mad?” the librarian questioned.

“I have to get it to look at me for it to stop,” Adam reminded.

“Just open the stupid thing, Giles, before my eardrums explode,” Cordelia yelled to be heard over the vampire’s shrieks.

“Get the crosses!” the Watcher cautioned. Once the teens were armed, they formed a semi-circle behind the Immortal in case their crazed guest tried to make a break for it.

They needn’t have worried. The vampire was too far gone to take advantage of the opportunity. Giles relocked the door the minute Adam slipped inside.

As the distance between the two very different immortals decreased, the vampire lost what little was left of his sanity. With no room left to retreat, the cornered creature began clawing at his own face, neck, and head -- undoubtedly in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the ‘buzz’ caused by Adam’s proximity. Eventually, the Immortal was close enough to grab hold of the vampire’s chin to duplicate his previous action with Angel.

“Look at me,” he insisted, tugging on the cold chin in his hand.

There was a pregnant pause as the captive’s gaze darted aimlessly around the room. When the blue eyes finally met the waiting hazel, it was more by accident than by design; but once they made contact, it was as if the squirming vampire was helpless to look anywhere else. Although it felt like an eternity, in all actuality, it took less than a second for the effect of Adam’s stare to become known.

For in that one instant, the captive vampire reached up a hand to his neck and, with his razor-sharp fingernails, slit his own throat.

As his dust settled to the floor, the six living people in the room simply stared at it in shock.

Angel had lost count of how many times they’d played out the same scene. This time, however, he could not stop the shudder that raced through his body as the door to the room opened yet again. His silence this time came not from resistance, but from the fact that he lacked the strength to answer her.

“You are dying, bellisimo,” Eleni said sadly, tracing the line of his face with the flat of her palm. You have lost too much blood. Soon your body will collapse in on itself, and you will be nothing but a pile of ash. Such a waste. But do you realize the...what is the word...ah, yes, the *irony* of it? You are willing to let your existence come to an end to protect a soul that will still burn in Hell. You are Irish, no? From the time when your people believed in the true faith? As vampires, we curse the Church, but you and I both know what awaits us when we cease to exist. You do not have to face your judgement, yet, Angelus. Yield to me, and we will both be under the protection of the Great Demon.”

For the first time in hours, Angel attempted to speak. The sound was little more than a croak as it left his parched throat.

“I...I...,” he began slowly. “I...s-submit.”

“Whoa,” Oz said, his eyes never leaving the pile of ash that had settled to the ground. “That was...”

“Icky?” Cordelia offered with a shiver. “Disgusting? The cause of thousands of dollars of therapy?”

“I have to admit, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘major weirdness’, myself,” Oz corrected.

“I don’t suppose anybody has any theories on why Fangboy here just pulled a hara-kiri,” Xander asked, looking directly at Giles.

“W...why did he...do that?” Willow asked in a none-too-steady voice.

“I...,” Adam stumbled, at a loss for words for the first time in years. “I don’t...understand...”

“Yeah, well, join the club,” Xander quipped.

“It should have worked,” the Immortal insisted, more to himself than to the other people around him. The truth was, seeing the vampire turn to dust made him a tad bit unsettled. Watching it happen close up was certainly world’s away from witnessing the phenomena through a pair of binoculars.

“Yes, it should have worked,” Giles reassured, desperately searching for some rational explanation for what had just happened.

“Oh my God,” Willow’s hand flew to her mouth as realization hit her. “That...what if...what if that had happened to Angel last night?”

All of them, even Xander, blanched as they considered the implications of the redhead’s words.

“Why did this one react so...severely?” Adam asked after a time.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the library as they mentally searched for explanations. When none became apparent, Oz posed a different question.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be asking why this one pulled a Kurt Cobain, but how come Angel *didn’t*?”

“Despite his actions, Angel *is* still a vampire,” Giles reminded, for once, just as puzzled as the rest of them.

“But he’s not a bad one,” Willow insisted. “At least not anymore...”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Willow and Giles’ eyes connected.

“His soul,” they both said in unison.

Using the cup on the dresser-top, Eleni scooped a small taste of the blood from the basin and carefully pressed it to Angel’s lips. So desperate was he for the necessary fluid, his fangs clicked loudly as they impacted with the glass.

“More,” he pleaded. Now that he had already admitted her dominance, there would be no shame in his begging.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Eleni cautioned as she pulled the cup forcefully away. “No more until you tell me the rest.”

Even with a small sip of blood he had taken, Angel could feel his body begin to respond. And better yet, there was a huge basin of the substance right nearby. Still he resisted.

“So you’re saying that Angel’s *soul* is what protected him from my presence?” Adam asked for clarification.

“Well,” Willow hesitated, “it’s like what makes Angel ...Angel -- not Angelus.” Adam nodded in understanding, somewhat familiar with the distinction after reading through Giles’ Watcher diaries that morning.

“Whatever the cause of Angel’s immunity, I think we should focus our attention to the larger picture,” the librarian said, reigning in the discussion. “We may have just stumbled across the perfect weapon for fighting large numbers of vampires.”

“Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here a little?” Xander interrupted. I mean, one vamp offing himself does not a theory prove.”

“What about Angel?” Willow interjected.

“What about sleep?” Cordelia whined.

“We still need to find out what’s going on,” Adam insisted.

“We should attempt to determine whether Dr. Pierson’s presence...” Giles droned.

The volume of their individual voices grew louder and louder as each one struggled to be heard over the others. The only two not participating in the bouillabaisse were Oz and Xander. The former simply sat back, watching the others with mild amusement. The latter, however, was, for once, deeply lost in thought.

“Guys?” Xander said, a startled expression on his face. “Guys? Guys!”

All arguing stopped at the teen’s unexpected shout. Xander squirmed like a bug under a microscope as everyone’s attention suddenly focused on him.

“I know that this is gonna sound weird, and believe me, nobody is wiggin’ more than I am right now, but I think I may know how we can do everything all at once...”




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