SECTION 2 - ANGEL CITY

I got a buncha boys
We make a lot of noise
Little bit crazy
Playing with chemical toys
We're such bad ass dudes
I almost can't stand it myself
I wanna get the c**bs
In my elegant rags
Make my mom and daddy uptight
I wanna be an intellectual
Heterosexual, Angel City tonight.

(Motorhead, Album 1916)



Chapter 2.04
Tuesday, May 7th, 2002

Spike lay awake for some time wondering what the evening would bring, not knowing how he wanted it to play out. Cordelia's question about Dru, had given away the fact that she wasn't the family business Angel was dealing with, but that still left a wide range of options. Angel hadn't even been twenty when he had made his first childe, but he had never learned to look after them. He never seemed to care for them, always abandoning them to their own devices at the first sign of difficulty. It had always been an unhappy recipe in Spike's view.

Angelus alone with Darla, meant that he was the one who took the abuse. He was the one she vented her frustration on. He was beaten and tortured, though never as often or as badly as he treated his subordinates because in truth, a life as a whore had trained Darla to be submissive to the men around her. Angel was punished only when he overstepped his bounds, and yet he railed against it. So in one of her more indulgent moods Darla allowed him to create his first child when he was little more than a fledgling.

For a while it amused him to indulge his sadistic whims, but eventually a male childe would become a challenge to his authority. A female childe would take attention away from his sire making her jealous and bringing down her ire. Occasionally, a foursome would work for a time, but even so there would often be problems between Angelus and the other male in the group. A weak male would be hounded to death, killed by Angelus' demanding tests. A strong male would eventually be a challenge to him. Angelus showed no fondness for his progeny; rather they were a means to demonstrate his power, his ability to dominate at least some of those around him. If he must follow Darla's commands, others would follow his.

Dru's devotion to him amused him. Her feelings for Spike and his for her infuriated him and he had used them in his twisted games, making each beg for pain and indignity to be visited upon them in order to spare the other. Had Spike been Angelus' childe then one of them would have died before Spike took his first slayer, but Spike was held in line by threats against his dark princess, for try as he might he couldn't convince her to leave her abusive Daddy. They had opportunity enough. Whenever pursuit closed upon the group Darla and Angel were quick to abandon the others to their fate using them as bait. Always though Dru would insist they travel to the appointed meeting place or scour his favourite cities until they found her Daddy again. Always until he got his soul.

It seemed to Spike that on average the git managed to last about twenty years between one childe or pair of children and the next. That meant he had quite a few uncles and aunts, and more cousins than he could count though to be fair he included all of Angelus' descendants of his generation or subsequent generations as cousins. He hadn't met that many. The world was still a big place, but every couple of decades some stranger in a bar somewhere would have the scent of family. Hence his remark to Buffy about a cousin who was married to a regurgitating demon.

So if Angel had family business to attend to it could mean almost anything. The real problem was he probably had far more sympathy for whoever was on the other side of the business than he had for the Poof. Just let Angel start the fight and this could be settled once and for all.

His free hand snaked over the side of the bed and when his fingers made contact with leather he gripped it, hoisting his duster onto the bed and rummaging one-handed through the pockets until he managed to find his cigarettes and lighter. He smiled to himself as he realised that he was actually grateful for the tile floor, knowing Buffy would have disapproved of him flicking ash onto a motel carpet. You are so whipped.

If it wasn't for her you could just catch the Poof on his own away from the cheerleader and the rest of his groupies, but then if it wasn't for her you'd probably be in New York, London or maybe Afghanistan. Nothing quite like a religious war, but then it wasn't as if he needed mayhem and corpses to cover his feeding any more, was it? Maybe Russia? He hadn't been there since before the revolution. How much of that unique architecture was still there? Living was probably cheap and winter nights long. Maybe he could start in India, pass through Afghanistan and up into Russia back through Eastern Europe maybe see if Drac was home.

Instead here he was killing time till he could confront his grandsire, bound by a promise that he wouldn't start a fight. Slayer had better realise that didn't mean he was going to curb his tongue. He hadn't specifically said anything, but she had to know that that would be too much to ask. He lay there for a minute listening to her heartbeat and her breathing, and knew it was worth it. There were almost no limits to the things he would do for her, but it was going to be a long couple of hours.

 
<

Tuesday Evening

Spike strode through the revolving door into the lobby of the Hyperion, hefting a duffel bag full of weapons in his left hand, elbow bent so that the bag rested against his shoulder. A second later Buffy followed him through. In Buffy's case it may have been by accident, but in Spike's case the all black look was definitely by design. His "pimp" necklace, as Dawn called it, was missing, as was the silver bracelet he sometimes wore, since both could potentially be used against him in a fight. His rings, many with nice sharp edges, however, adorned his hands. He'd decided to forego his normal over-shirt too, something else an opponent could grasp hold of.

Buffy had simply gone for black leather pants to match her new coat and a black camisole, topped by a sheer black over-shirt which she knotted loosely at the front instead of buttoning. Throw in the big bag of weapons and the overall effect was sort of Keanu and Carrie Moss on Peroxide.

"They're up on the mezzanine." Spike could easily hear the voices including a soft female one with a Texan? accent explaining something about Geiger counters? Angel's scent permeated the whole building but underneath he was aware of the scent of several others. Spike became aware of running footsteps, Angel's footsteps and he watched as Angel launched himself through one of the arches, landing faultlessly in the foyer below.

"Or they were." Angel had reacted exactly as Spike expected when he caught wind of his grandchilde and a freshly wounded slayer together. The elder vampire paused long enough when he hit the ground to take in the prominent wound on Buffy's neck and the lack of a matching wound on Spike's.

Angel dropped automatically into demon form and the accent of his youth. "Ye always were an arrogant little bastard, weren't you, William?" He advanced toward the blond in a fighting stance. "Couldn't wait te show off your little trophy could ye? Well, ye never did know when to cut and run, did ya? And this time ye're goin' ta pay with yer miserable existence."

"If you think you're demon enough to make me, you've forgotten about the help you needed just to get out alive the last time we met, Peaches."

Buffy wondered exactly what that little comment meant, she watched as Angel lunged forward, only to have Spike swing the weapons bag round and up into his jaw, before he slid it across the floor to Buffy. A spinning kick followed while the older vampire was still off balance, catching him perfectly on the side of his ear and hopefully causing damage to his inner ear.

"Yeah, well, he's got more help now than he had before," Cordy's voice drifted down from the balcony, where she leant against the bottom of the arch, steadying the aim on her crossbow. Next to her Gunn also took aim on the blond's heart.

"A reception committee, just for me? Princess, you shouldn't have." Spike countered. He would have made a comment about the hair but his mother had brought him up to not say anything at all if he couldn't say something nice. He made a lot of exceptions, but drew the line at telling a beautiful woman that she'd massacred one of her best features.

Angel took advantage of Spike's distraction, driving his shoulder into his stomach and bearing him to the ground, where pinned by the heavier man his speed was of little use. Cordy and Gunn relaxed their aim unable to get a clear shot at the younger vamp without endangering Angel. Just in case Buffy moved to stand between them and the vamps anyway. "Hey! If I don't get to interfere, you guys sure as hell don't get to fire stakes at my f-. my friend when Angel started it."

Spike drove his forehead up into Angel's nose, starting a nosebleed and followed up with a right hook into Angel's ear, the one he hadn't kicked, again trying to disrupt his balance so he could throw off the bigger man.

"No point being shy now, pet. Might as well give the rest of them the full story." Angel managed to pin both of Spike's arms and raised himself up enough that Spike couldn't get any more head-butts in. In desperation Spike brought a knee up before Angel could establish dominance, and was lucky enough to catch the other vampire in a very delicate area. Angel instinctively rolled into a ball at one side of the blond, and Spike flipped to his feet. He grasped the brunette's wrist and in one fluid motion stepped across to straddle the older vamp and pulled his arm behind his back forcing him down face first into the floor. Finally, Spike morphed into demon face and knelt on Angel's shoulders ready to administer the bite to his grandsire that would establish once and for all that he had dominance over him. There was normally a bit more to the ritual, but Spike figured even the Poof would concede defeat rather than force Spike to take him there in the hotel lobby in front of the assembled audience. Behind him Spike could hear Angel's cronies piling down the stairs, but he knew Buffy wouldn't let any of them interfere.

Spike's teeth bit down into the join of Angel's neck and shoulder. The Irishman struggled under him but was unable to wrestle his way free. The wound would be a messy one. Spike bit down harder, anxious to draw a reasonable amount of blood as quickly as possible and Angel struggled even more, sure Spike meant to drain him before he could expose the blond for holding Buffy in thrall. After a couple of seconds, that seemed to last for minutes Spike raised his head morphing back into human form straight away.

He leant over, whispering in Angel's ear. "You best concede or my fiancée and your minions are going to see a side of vampire etiquette I think we'd both prefer they didn't."

"Fuck off, boy!" the older vampire squirmed beneath him trying to goad him into a mistake and Spike's head exploded in a mess of bright stars as he dropped limply to the floor.

Alerted by the sudden sound of movements behind her Buffy turned to see Angel, blood seeping from his nose and from a ragged neck wound and a teenage boy pulling a wickedly sharp knife.

Everything happened at once. Angel realised the reason for his sudden freedom and saw Stephen kneel using his downward momentum to power his knife thrust as he aimed for Spike's throat. He wasn't carrying a stake, but there was no need to when beheading works just as well. Buffy was also aware of the youth's attack and she ran up and launched herself at the boy feet first. Angel's shout of "No-o-o-o-o-o!" echoing in her ears as she flew through the air. She was never sure even afterward if Angel meant to stop her or the boy.

She managed to knock the knife from the boy's hand, but her necessarily low trajectory meant she landed on the floor. Instead of trying to regain her feet she scrambled back to lie diagonally over Spike's torso, shielding his heart and his neck, ready to defend herself with her legs if need be.

A hand fumbled with the left sleeve of Spike's duster. "I don't know who you are, but you're getting involved in something you don't understand." Buffy aimed her words at the teenager who seemed reluctant to attack her as yet. "If Spike had wanted Angel dead, he would be dead already." She pulled the stake from Spike's sleeve using her fingertips. "He'll have at least another two of these in easy reach and if he could do that, then you can bet he could have used them a lot faster. Not to mention the fact that the bag he slid across to me at the start of the fight has all his favourite toys in it. Axes, swords, shotgun, the whole nine yards."

Angel's face registered shock at the truth behind Buffy's words. Not only had Spike beaten him in a fair fight, not something he would admit out loud but he had also passed up the opportunity to kill him.

Somewhere in the background Lorne cleared his throat in a meaningful way.

"Well if that ends the festivities for today." he moved round to offer Buffy a hand, which after taking a second to notice its unusual colour, she took. "Maybe we can take your .friend over to the couch and Angel can make with the introductions. Like the ring by the way. Indian? .as in from India not Native American." He reached down grasping Spike under one arm. Buffy grabbed the other and they pulled him over to the blue-grey circular couch and laid him out on the seat.

"Possibly. You'd have to ask the unconscious one."

"It's Indian." Angel's voice was thick with anger. "His great-grandfather met his wife when he was serving in the army there, before his elder brother was killed and he inherited everything." His voice softened as he changed topic.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Stephen. Stephen, this is Fred, Gunn, Cordelia, the guy helping move the corpse is Lorne and our two visitors are Buffy and William." Buffy tried to put stories to the faces, but other than Gunn she drew a blank. Obviously the LA to Sunnydale grapevine wasn't working that efficiently. She and Angel hadn't really touched on the other people in their lives the last time they met up, but she felt like she was standing in a room full of strangers.

"Cordy, why don't you and Buffy catch up on what everybody's been doing? Stephen and I will take the office. I'll catch up with Buffy later."

"That would be because I already told her it was your place to tell her everything, Brood Boy." Cordy muttered beneath her breath. "Fine, we'll have a regular party out here. You have fun."

"Knew it wasn't just me that noticed the brooding." Buffy couldn't resist thinking that it was typical for Spike's mouth to be working before he even got as far as sitting up. "How's life treating Queen C these days?"

"Pretty good. Let's see, since I saw you last, I've travelled to another dimension, which is where we met Fred. They made me a princess. I fell in love with a Champion. We freed all the slaves and beat the evil priests. I came back here and left him to rule. The visions almost killed me, long story, short version the Powers made me part demon so I'd be strong enough to keep them. The people in Pylea decided they wanted a democracy so Groo left then to it and came here to find me and hopefully we're somewhere in the living happily ever after stage.

Where is Groo?"

"He went for a walk, cup cake," Lorne supplied. "Around ten this morning."

Spike's eyes flew to meet those of the green demon, as did Buffy's. Lorne's eyes flicked briefly in the direction of the office and Spike noticed the youth for the first time, he also recognised the almost familiar scent that was present now but hadn't been before he was knocked unconscious.

"I'm guessing by the eau de Darla permeating the atmosphere, that the kid in the office is that family business you were talking about on the phone. Looks like Angel's finally got himself a little brother, and I thought he'd put the wicked witch off for life. Bit young. He's never gonna be able to stay in one place longer than a year or two or it's gonna be too damn obvious when he doesn't age."

"Oh, he ages. He ages like you would not believe." Spike raised an eyebrow in Gunn's direction.

"Ah think that's our cue to go try this thing outside. Check the perimeter. You guys have fun catching up." Gunn took Fred's hand and they both left the hotel.

"So," asked Lorne, "How do you know Darla?"

"Depends how you look at it. She's either me sister or me great-grandma."

"ANGEL. BUFFY." Cordy shouted. "It's a bar! Vampires. A gang of them!" Cordy cupped her hand behind her ear. "Buffy, can you hear me?" Angel emerged from the office rushing to the seer. "I can see her. A woman. Angel! She's all alone. She doesn't see them. Buffy, you have to hurry!"

Angel moved to stand directly in front of the seer and gripped her upper arms. "Slow down."

Spike snorted. "Two hundred and change and he can't tell the difference between loud and fast."

He picked up the bag of weapons from the floor. "I'll go start the car, slayer. You come on out when you've got an address."

"Will." Buffy threw him the stake she had removed from his sleeve before. He caught it without altering his stride and had it back in place before he got as far as the door.

Cordy looked about her as if the vision had cleared and she had just returned to the hotel. "There is a woman at a bar. There is a gang of vampires that are after her. You have to help her."

Angel looked over to where Stephen had emerged from the office. "Listen, uhm, -I -I, ah, have to go out for a while."

"It's okay." Stephen circled round toward the door the entire time he and his father were talking, every word, every pause brought him closer to the doors.

"It's kinda my job." Angel sounded apologetic.

"Yeah. Whatever."

"It could be kinda dangerous. There's a lot of killing and violence. You wanna come?" Stephen was now nearer the door than his father. He stopped and looked back at the vampire.

"Great," said Buffy. "You got an address for this big family outing?"