Chapter 11

“Lorne, I really don’t know what you mean…Gingerbread House?” 

“You know, Hansel and Gretel…big bad witch…kiddies roasting nicely?  No?  Spike – help a demon out here.” 

“What the Jolly Green is saying, Tex, is that Angel may be brushing off his black hat and snacking down on the AB pos again.  Right, mate?” 

“Wow.  Nice turn of phrase and very succinctly put.” 

Both demons turned towards the mystified scientist, expectant looks on their faces.  Fred shrugged, a shy smile on her lips. 

Spike sighed.  “What he means is this place is doing stuff to Angel.  And you can bet your last burrito that whatever it is, it’s not good.” 

“But…he’s Angel… he fights evil and makes things better, tries to do right – he wants to atone!  What could be happening to him?  Come on, Lorne, you know Angel. He would never do anything bad.  He’s… he’s ANGEL!” 

“He’s also Angelus, pet.” 

She turned her huge eyes towards Spike.  He nodded slowly, reinforcing his words.  When he was sure it had sunk in, he spoke to Lorne. 

“So, what do you know?” 

“Well, I know it’s not good.  I was wandering past when he broke into a ditty, and he…” 

“Don’t tell me - Manilow, right?  He’s such a sorry prick!” 

“Yeah, not as perky as the original but nearly in tune… well that’s an exaggeration… remind me to give you the critique later.  His whole big secret agenda was just laid out there in front of me.  And let me tell you, it’s not something they’d show on Family Favourites.” 

“Look, I know you probably get off on the cryptic, mate, and I get that, but for the sake of the lady can you spell it out?” 

“Oh, you’re so deliciously commanding, Spike!  You ever thought of doing those self-assertion videos?  Could make a pretty penny…and you so photogenic and all.” 

Spike’s steely glare wiped the smile from Lorne’s face.   

“Right, yeah – thing is, Angelcakes seems to have made himself some kind of sweet deal - and that’s on top of the one we know about.  Not quite sure of all the details, but suffice it to say we’re gonna get screwed…and not in the hot groin and triceps kinda way.” 

“Well, ain’t that a kick in the ass.  But, grandpa always was a devious sod, not that anyone ever listens to me.” 

“All I can tell is that he’s digging the big evil vibe hereabouts and he knows more about your sitch than he’s letting on.  Also, there’s something about Dawn; I’m not really sure yet – and I don’t think he is, which is why I couldn’t read him fully.  He still has the soul though… which is confusing me…” 

“Not me - known some right bastards with a shiny soul sitting right inside.  Nah, evil is evil.  And Angelus is the most evil bastard you’ll ever meet.” 

“No… I’ve read Angelus…it’s not Angelus.  It’s Angel.  Spikey, I really am without a clue on this one.  Do you have any idea what’s going on?” 

“Nope, but it wouldn’t hurt to give the troops a heads up.  Tex, can you round up Lord Snooty and the Streetdude?  I’ll get to Red and Giles, and get them to ring Faith.  I think we’ll need the full deck.  But quiet, mind. Don’t want to alert Angel.” 

“Yeah, I’ll get to them.  What about Buffy?” 

“NO!  Not Buffy.  Don’t you think she’s got enough on her mind right now?  I’ll clue her in, but not yet… when we have something definite.” 

Lorne fretted a little at that.  The Slayer didn’t seem to be the type who liked having things decided for her; but Spike knew her best. 

“Ok, sweets.  You call that little play as you see it.  Freddles, any luck?” 

Fred had been calling round to find Charles and Wesley.  So far they weren’t answering.   

“No, and I don’t think I should page them.  I’ll just go for a little walk; maybe whispering in their ears is the best way to go.  Where shall we meet up?” 

“Well, I’m pretty much housebound.  Few times I’ve tried to go walkabout, I’ve snapped back to these four walls so… parking garage?” 

Lorne and Fred nodded. 

“Ok, I’ll round up the Sunnydale contingent, leave the rest to you.  Catch you in a little while.”  He paused at the doorway.  “Erm, Tex.  Not to appear selfish but… anything?” 

Fred gave him a beaming smile.  She didn’t really have much to say, the readings were subtly different from those she’d taken initially, but his deep blue eyes just begged for reassurance.  She would fix it.  She would fix it all; she had to. 

“Actually, Spike, you do seem to have a little more… presence.  Temperature’s up two degrees and you have more mass.  Which sounds good to me.  I’m on it -- you’ll be back to touching stuff up before you know it………touching stuff… not up…sorry.” 

She giggled, hiding her blushes with a sweep of hair.   

“Thanks, Fred.  I’ll owe you one.” 

************************************ 

“Hey, Wes.  Are you busy?” 

Wesley knew the instant she entered the room; his neck got all tingly.  She wore a perfume, light with a lemony signature, which woke all sorts of unaccountable feelings in him.  So when he got his first whiff of it, he started smiling and eagerly turned to the door.   He was looking at her when she spoke, and the joviality of her tone didn’t match the look on her face.   

“Never too busy for you, Fred.  What can I do for you?”  

Thud.  What couldn’t he do for her?  Briefly forgetting the current crisis, she lost herself in his concerned gaze and swallowed hard.  Really, he must have some inkling of her feelings…he must know that the kiss they’d shared, when Angelus was taunting them all during his last appearance, had awakened such deep emotions inside of her.  He did know, didn’t he? 

Shaking herself mentally, Fred pushed that to the back of her mind.  She moved to embrace the bemused man, whispering in his ear whilst her arms were wrapped around him.  He whispered his assent and she moved back from him, the pressure of his arms where he’d returned her embrace burning her skin.   

Out loud, she made something up on the spot, suddenly wondering if they were being monitored.  “Oh, Wes!  Buffy told me that Dawn blinked at her…isn’t it marvellous?” 

“Erm…yes, absolutely.  I must go and see them both.” 

An awkward silence ensued.   

“Well…erm… I’ll just go and… I want to tell Gunn about… Buffy.  Catch you later.” 

Wesley nodded, the smile fading from his face as the implication of her words sank in.  This was bad.  He needed to speak to Giles. 

************ 

“Red!  Hold up!” 

Spike came sprinting round the corridor startling Willow as she was leaving her room, arms full of the papers that now fluttered about her feet.  She bent down to retrieve them and Spike knelt too, forgetting his handicap momentarily and fruitlessly tried to help.  He whispered to Willow as their heads bent together, filling her in on what Lorne had told them.   

“What?” the witch hissed, “I knew it!  I told Giles there was something off about him.  We have to tell Buffy.” 

“NO!  I just told Tex and Lorne, not yet.  Not while she’s dealing with Dawn.  We’ll tell her when we know more, yeah?” 

Willow looked into his concerned blue eyes.  He looked so resolute, so protective of her friend.  Distractedly she wondered when she’d become so trusting of the vampire that she found herself nodding her agreement to his words.  She wouldn’t tell Buffy about their fears just yet.   

“Ok, but when she knows we knew, she’s gonna be pissed and I’ll blame you.  So what’s the plan?” she whispered to him, still gathering the papers together.   

“Well, Tex is gathering up the LA contingent so I said I’d give the Scoobs the heads up.  Meeting down in the parking garage as soon as.  Ok?” 

Willow nodded.  “Do you want me to tell Giles?” 

Spike thought for a minute, was about to say yes but then thought better of it.  “Nah, Red.  I’ll tell Giles and maybe you can clue Faith in?  What with me being telephone deprived at the moment.” 

“Yeah, good point.  I’ll do that.  I think Giles is in Watcher heaven at the moment – you might want to head to the library.  I’ll check in on Xander too and I’ll see you later.” 

“Count on it, Red.” 

Willow watched from the floor as he strode away, duster flapping behind him in his wake.  Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath.  Oh boy, somebody was gonna be hurting real bad when Spike got his punching muscles back.  Wouldn’t like to be in Angel’s shoes. 

************************************** 

“…so I have now linked the two auras; as one gets stronger, the other one weakens.  Is that what you wanted, Mr Angel, sir?” 

Angel turned from the bank of monitors that graced one wall of his office.  His glowering countenance split with a coldly sardonic grin; so malevolent it chilled the mystic to the bone.  It was the most horrific moment of his life and he would wake with screaming nightmares seeing that face until he went to the grave.   

“Excellent!   She has to realise what’s good for her now.  So, what?  He’ll fade away once too often and ‘shazam’ no more pain in the ass?” 

“Not exactly, sir.  I’ve tied it all in so that it depends on what…she… wants.  She has to make the choice.” 

The look in the vampire’s eyes was dreadful.  

“Perfect!  Then she’ll have no choice at all.  She’ll soon see who she belongs to… and he’ll be gone.  And the fake prophesy?  You have it ready?” 

“Yes, sir… Mr Angel, sir.  I have it here.  It’s written on genuine twelfth century parchment in the blood of virgins.  I’m quite proud of it…” 

Angel brought the proffered scroll to his nose and inhaled the scent of the blood.  It was delicious, and very tempting.  Eyes flickering from brown to amber he managed to rein in his demon.  “It works for me… Good job.  There may be a reward in this for you.  If we have a result…” 

Strangely disturbed at the thought of being in the vampire’s good books, the shaking mage backed out of the room and headed for the boozy relief of the staff bar.   

************************************** 

“Mr Giles!  Ahem… Mr Giles!” 

Giles tried to ignore the irritating buzz but finally closed the tome in which he’d been lost as he realised Wyndham-Pryce wasn’t going away.  Remembering his manners, he kept his hand in the book, removing his glasses and looking quizzically at the interruption. 

“Yes, Wesley?  Is there something you need?” 

Damn.  He hadn’t thought past the finding of Giles.  What should he say?  Fred had whispered urgently that they had to be careful; how could he get Giles to leave with him without a fuss?  And had Willow or Spike had a chance to speak with him yet?   

Thankfully, at that moment Spike walked into the library and Wesley sighed with relief.  At least he’d find the answer to one of his questions. 

“Rupert, Percy – glad you’re both here.  Need a quick word.” 

Both men looked at him expectantly.  Bugger.  How to spill the beans without alerting Peaches, who no doubt had spies all over the place. 

“Well, yeah…thing is… there’s good news!  Dawn kind of reacted earlier.  Just a little twitch or some such but a definite step up from just lying there.” 

“Spike!  Is she awake?  What do the doctors say?”  Giles was on his feet, glasses dangling from his fingers. 

“What? Oh, no…like I say, just a movement.  Doctor’s checked her over say there’s no change.  But Buffy’s taking it as an encouraging sign, think I will too.”  Giles looked at him puzzled at the way he was inclining his head and seemed to be beckoning him nearer. 

“Spike, you appear to have developed a twitch -- is that a side effect of your non-corporeality?” 

“Bloody hell” was muttered through clenched teeth and Wesley realised what was going on.  Giles didn’t know. 

“Yes, Spike.  We’ll be sure to pop down and see Buffy and Dawn later.  Fred… ” Wesley stressed the name, “told me earlier what was going on.  I just came down to tell Giles about it but thank you for thinking of him too.  I’ll make sure he knows everything, and obviously Lorne already knows, so Fred tells me.”  He stared at Spike hoping his convoluted speech had done the trick and Spike understood that he would tell Giles everything about Lorne’s reading. 

Thankfully, despite some people’s opinion of him, Spike wasn’t stupid and cottoned on immediately.  He smiled and nodded gratefully at the former watcher. 

“Make sure you do, Percy.  I’ll be heading off then - things to do, you know?” 

Giles turned to Wesley, confusion wrinkling his brow.  He opened his mouth to speak but Wesley forestalled him. 

“I think this deserves a celebration, don’t you?  Maybe a cup of what they laughingly call tea in this country.  Over at the café perhaps?  And if they can manage it a scone… my treat.” 

Wesley shook his head very slightly as Giles still looked as if he was about to speak.  Giles swallowed his questions; there was something going on here and he intended to find out what.  Maybe it would be a good idea to get out of the building; the atmosphere within Wolfram & Hart was oppressive sometimes and he did need to clear his head. 

“Yes, what a lovely idea.  I’ll get my coat.” 

**************************************** 

“Faith?  Hi, Willow here.  How’s he doing?  Good, good.  So he’ll be back on his feet soon.  Great!  Erm…do you have time to come and meet me for…erm…for a drink?” 

There was a silence while Willow listened to the other end of the conversation. 

“Well, no… I haven’t always got on with you… but you know the whole Goddess thing and all, makes me feel connected.  Just a drink… NO!  I so do not fancy you… look, Faith, I need to speak to you about…girly stuff.  Can you meet me, please?” 

Another silence while she listened. 

“Erm, I’m not familiar…and how have you found a ‘local’ so soon, you’ve hardly been away from Woods’ side.  Yeah, I think I know where…all right, 15 minutes?  I’ll see you then.” 

She clicked off the cell phone, rolling her eyes.  ‘Fancy her!  As if… she’d eat me for breakfast!  Oh no, bad Willow…’ 

The mental picture she’d just had widened her eyes and she took herself off to find Xander before heading to the bar down the block to keep her assignation with Faith. 

***************** 

“Hey Xand, how are you?”  Willow recoiled from the smell of alcohol as she found him sitting in an empty office.  His one good eye was bloodshot and he hadn’t shaved, wasn’t too fresh either. 

“Just great, Willow.  Never better – I’m thinking of dancing a jig to celebrate my life because it’s so incredibly good.” 

Willow’s heart ached as she looked at her oldest friend.  He’d taken the loss of his eye so well, had really come through in the crunch and helped out so much with the potentials.  But the loss of Anya had changed him.  He’d become bitter, cynical.  And Buffy’s declaration of undying love for Spike had made things worse.  He’d never accept it; Willow knew that.  Truth be told, she thought it was time that he got away and tried to rebuild his life.  But if she told him that, he’d think she wanted him gone.  She didn’t; she wanted him back to the way he was.  Anya’s death had been the catalyst for this downward spiral, and Spike’s reappearance had pushed him further.   

She hesitated; maybe she shouldn’t involve him in this.  After all, he’d kept pretty much to himself since they’d left Sunnydale, hadn’t even joined in any of the discussions.  But if he found out about it later… 

“Look, Willow, I don’t want to be rude but do you want something?  I have a pressing appointment with a Mr Jack and a Mr Daniels that I don’t want to be late for and unless it’s urgent….” 

“Erm…no.  Nothing urgent, just checking in to see how you…” 

“Well now you’ve checked.  I’m fine, everybody’s fine, the whole world’s just fine and dandy.  Isn’t that what you want to hear?  You don’t really want to know how I feel because if I told you it would pop your happy little bubble.  And we can’t have that now, can we?  No, Willow, you go on home and snuggle your honey, tell Buffy to keep on mooning after the evil undead, and leave Giles drooling on his books.  Dawn’s happy in coma-land so we don’t have to worry about what she’s feeling.  Angel’s got this empire at his beck and call and the assorted demons that infest it seem to be happy enough that nobody’s whupping their asses.  So I’m fine.  Ok?” 

Willow’s bottom lip started to tremble.  This wasn’t the Xander she knew; how had he come to be so low?  But she couldn’t spare the time to worry about him at the moment; there were bigger problems to deal with.   

“Ok, I’ll… leave you to it then.”  She backed out of the room fighting her tears.   

******************************************* 

Two hours later the parking garage echoed with sounds of argument and denial.  Andrew had insisted on tagging along at first but when Harmony tried to follow her ‘Blondie Bear’ and his lover’s ex-nemesis along the corridors, a whispered command by the ghostly vampire had his wannabe doubling back to distract her.  Andrew puffed out his chest, thrilled to be given a mission, and with a salute and a chirpy ‘oui, mon Capitain’ he dragged Harmony off to chat about girly things.  Probably.  That freed Spike to slip away and down to the meeting. 

Lorne reclined against the door of the Viper, arms crossed, as he tried to pick up on the whirling emotions of the mixed group.   He really must get them all to sing; that would sort things out.  It might melt his eardrums but hey – a demon’s got to do what a demon’s got to do.  He’d already told the assembly what he’d found out about Angel’s plans, which admittedly was little more than conjecture at the moment, and there was now the outpouring of disbelief and anger.  Once they got round to the acceptance, he’d jump right in again. 

Strangely, the most vehement defence of Angel came from Faith.  She was just not willing to believe that the vampire who fought at her side and who had set her on the path to redemption would ever do anything to hurt his friends. 

“Look, I’m not saying Angelus ain’t evil; hell he’s one twisted fucker and no mistake – I know.  I’ve been inside the sick son of a bitch’s mind.   But not Angel.  You’re sure he’s not Angelus?” 

“I am, my dark delight.  Angel’s still in the driving seat, still got the soul and the brood.  It’s just a little tarnished.” 

“I just can’t see what would make him act like that.  What could make him?  Anyone?” 

There was silence in the garage.  Eyes shifted and feet shuffled.  Nobody spoke for a while; nobody had the answer.  Until… 

“Buffy.” 

Spike’s face wore a look of murderous intent as he softly uttered the name.