A/N : An enormous apology for the time it's taken to get this chapter out. Anybody who knows me will be aware that RL has been extremely busy and fraught. Things are settling down now, but still feel as though I'm living three lives. I hope you're still with me. I am blown away by the comments I've received for this story, thanks so much for sticking with me. I hope I can make it worth your while. Thanks once again to Lou for the wonderful job of making sense of my ramblings.

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COME BACK TO ME




CHAPTER 24




“Okay, what’s with the vanishing act? Is it just me, or did Cordy pull a David Copperfield?”




Gunn leant against the wall watching Faith as she leapt to her feet and started pacing, and marvelled at her energy. She wasn't even a tiny bit tired and he'd be needing a lie down before he could as much as put one foot in front of the other.




“A whoosit?”




“Cordy. Gone -- as in now ya see her, now ya don’t. Or maybe she does that all the time?”




“Well, she visited with the Powers once before. But now? Your guess is as good as mine.”




Faith settled back on her haunches at his side, looking up at him with stormy eyes. "What d'ya think is going on there?" She nodded towards the far end of the room where Angel lounged in his chains, smirk on his face as he inspected the ceiling. "He's seriously freaking me, man. Looks and smells like Angel, acts like Angelus. And I've been inside the sick fuck's head – Angelus I mean. The whole sitch is making me nuts; tell me I'm not the only one that sees Angel and Angelus as separate things?"




Gunn slid down the wall to sit by her. He didn't answer at first, taking the time to consider the question that had haunted him from his earliest dealings with the vampire. His natural inclination was on a par with Xander Harris – vampire equals demon equals bad; but he'd seen something in Angel that had made him question that. Despite the ups and downs over the years, Gunn had come to respect Angel as a boss. And as his friend. Because that's what Angel was – a friend. In fact, so comfortable was he in the vampire's company that he often forgot he was a vampire. And for someone who'd lost his sister to the bloodsuckers and spent half his life fighting them, that was no small thing.




Then there was Spike. Another vampire, another soul. But according to Buffy and her friends, even before the soul – and even before the chip sometimes – Spike had been different to your regular vamp. He'd spent lots of time around humans without eating them for one thing, and had actually gone out of his way to help. For money, sure and sometimes other reasons, but still – very odd for a vampire. Almost human, in fact, if what Buffy said was right.




So on the one hand – Spike, same old same old with or without the soul, more or less. On the other hand – Angel the protector of the innocent, warrior of the light, but get rid of the soul and there was a cruel, remorseless sadist bent on nothing but his own twisted games.




Finally, he took a breath and fixed Faith's dark eyes with his own. "To be honest, I just don't know. But the guy's cut me breaks in the past, so I guess I'll to do the same for him. Don't want to lose another friend."




Faith smiled; at least she wouldn't have to fight Gunn to stop him staking Angel. Buffy was another matter. B could be mean as a junkyard dog when motivated, Faith's recent bruises testament to the fact that she meant business so far as Angel was concerned. He'd messed with her family big time– Spike and Dawn – and that was asking for trouble of the worst kind.




She'd just have to hope that wherever Spike was, he'd get on with it and get back before B went stake-happy.




+ + + +




Buffy was pacing restlessly in Dawn's room, unable to find the calm she usually felt while watching over her sister. Too much was going on in her head and she was strung taut as a bowstring. Spike was who knew where, Drusilla disappearing at the same time. What's a girl to think? Willow had done her best to reassure her that no matter what had happened between Spike and Dru in the past, it was all about her now. Not that she doubted Spike’s feelings but compared to over a hundred years’ devotion she might seem like a three-day wonder. Buffy's insecurities meant she couldn't quite believe that she was entitled to feel the happiness she'd discovered over the last few weeks.




She expected the rug to be yanked from under her any minute.




The door inching open drew her attention, her head whipping round, fists balled at her sides. Willow peeped round the door and smiled.




"Hey, Buffy. How’re you holding up? Thought I'd go see Xander but I wanted to check on you first."




Buffy forced herself to relax, dropping her hunched shoulders and flexing her fingers. "Thanks, Will. Good idea, tell him I said hi. I haven't seen him in ages...been kinda occupied." She half-smiled and shrugged.




"Yeah, he knows. I'll tell him. Cordy's gonna clue me in if ... well, if anything happens. I'll come back later, bring you a snack. Mocha latte?"




"Mmmm. You know me so well. That'd be great."




Willow shut the door behind her quietly and Buffy finally relaxed enough to sit in the chair at the side of Dawn's bed. If only her mom was here. Suddenly, she missed her mom. The Powers wouldn’t have messed with Joyce Summers in full flow. You get the hell away from my daughter! That memory brought a smile to her lips. Her mom would have had the Powers doing chores to get on her good side.




Sighing, Buffy grabbed a magazine and started reading aloud.




+ + +




Harmony, Andrew and Lorne were lying back in padded chairs, wrapped in fluffy bathrobes and matching turbans covering their hair and horn treatments. All three of them had their eyes covered as manicurists worked on their hands and feet, and another stood behind each of them administering facials.




"Lorney, I swear – you know all the best girlie stuff better than most girls I know. How did you find this place?"




"It's all about knowing who to know, sweetpea. Gee I hope I don’t clash with this cucumber eye pack … and I happen to have the blackest little black book in the whole of Tinseltown. Trust me; what Lorne wants, Lorne gets. And hey! I think Lorne wants a Seabreeze."




Within seconds one elegantly manicured paw was embracing a frosty glass, which he sipped from appreciatively. This was definitely the life. Angel and Wolfram and Hart, the Dawn, Buffy and Spike crisis – it had all melted away. For this afternoon at least he was putting all thoughts of angst and upset aside and concentrating on the good things in life.




"Me too! I'd like a Seabreeze – with a splash of ruby red please. Not otter. I'm off that..."




"Oh and I'll take one." Andrew raised one eye pad and smiled at the attendant before leaning back against the chair. A second or two passed before he shot bolt upright. "Oh! But hold the ruby red! Just ice. And lemon. And some other fruit…maybe. A cocktail umbrella." He shouted after her departing back.




"Kimo sabe speaks with a disturbing lack of cool. A Seabreeze has its own delicious taste that doesn't need anything more. And Harmony, my powder puff of pink delight, love you – but that’s an abomination! You wouldn't mix chips in your drink, would you? So why put other food in there? I really do have a lot to teach you kiddies."




Harmony and Andrew took their proffered drinks from the gleaming tray in front of them and sipped them, shamefaced. Lorne raised an eyebrow in an 'I told you so' arch as Andrew choked on an errant cherry. Harmony's glug of her drink had her making a face that showed how much she wished she hadn't. Trying for nonchalant, she spat it back in the glass and poured it away in the convenient pot plant at her side. Lorne was so right.




The trio were disturbed from their amused chat by the impatient trilling of Lorne's cell phone, brought to them by an apologetic attendant.




"So sorry, Mr Lorne, but there must be some bewitchment on it – I am compelled to make you answer."




"Don't worry, Genevieve. I know. You work for an evil law firm, you don't get time off. Please freshen my glass – and two more like it for the newbies – and hand over the rude interrupter. Won't be long, sweeties – Lorney's public awaits."




Lorne flicked the cell open, barking into the receiver. "You got me, what gives? And make it good because this seaweed wrap is a hundred bucks a pore."




Andrew and Harmony giggled; they loved watching Lorne in action. Andrew longed to have the aplomb to pull it off and Harmony reminisced about the times she'd seen Cordelia do the exact same thing, but without being so green. She missed bitch Cordy.




"Oh, well why didn't you say? I certainly did not speak over you! Yeah, yeah – I hear you. Send a car, we'll be right there." He snapped the phone shut and swung his legs over from his lounger, jumping to his feet and dragging off the towel round his head.




"Saddle up, mi amigos. We're needed back at the ranch. Or well, to be honest, I'm needed -- but three heads are always better than one, right? Unless you're a Grinkjssk demon, in which case one of the heads is always a no-brainer."




In a cloud of expensive cologne, Lorne was off and heading back to the changing rooms, Andrew and Harmony reluctantly trailing in his wake.




"Looks like the Jimmy Choos will have to wait for another day. I hate being a hero's secretary-cum-personal assistant!"




Andrew nodded sagely. He knew exactly how she felt. “Tell me about it, sister!”




+ + + +




Spike took a few steps further into the room, the jug of blood heavy in his hand. He placed it on the lace-covered table that housed his mother's favourite aspidistra and moved towards the sofa, eyes flickering between the still vampire and the grinning seer.




"Cordy. Care to enlighten me as to what the fuck's going on?"




"Don't know. Not yet. Love the outfit."




Spike raised an eyebrow, the effect not entirely as terrifying as it usually was. The eyebrow wasn't scarred for a start, and his round spectacles kind of hid the action anyway.




"Don't see the point of you being here, pet, if you don't know why. Just another heartbeat to keep away from the sire there." Spike indicated Drusilla with a nod of his head.




"Oh, you don't have to worry about Dru. I'm not completely helpless, you know. I mean – voila! Here I am through time and all. And besides – I didn't say I wouldn't know why eventually. They just haven't told me yet. But they will."




"Oh. Right then." Spike paced a little. He’d hardly known Cordelia even back in Sunnydale. And since he'd been back at Wolfram and Hart, she'd been in a coma. To him, she was still the ditzy yet bitchy teenage Queen C that Buffy had spoken of with a mixture of affection and snarls. But he had to admit, seeing her sitting on the sofa with serenity flowing from her, he could scarcely believe she'd been as bad as Buffy said.




"Can you stop that? It's very distracting. Just sit down."




"Don’t think so, love. Got my old mum snoring upstairs, Dru wanting to take a bite out of her and anyone else in range, my heart's pounding – and I can't begin to tell you how weird that feels – I'm kind of queasy and oh, I don't know – Buffy and Dawn are a century away from me. So no – I can't just sit."




"Tetchy much? You're worse than Angel."




"Yeah, you got that right. Much, much worse."




"Hmmm. Well. Look, I really don't know what's going on, but the Powers pulled us all here so we can assume it’s meant to be. We just have to wait."




"Not happening. I don't have the time. You get on your psychic phone or something, 'cause if you don't there's gonna be trouble. Me."




Cordy sighed. Given that vamps were immortal and therefore had endless acres of time, she found it rather ironic that they could be the most impatient beings she knew. And annoying.




"'Fine, I'll see what I can do. But please stop pacing."




Cordy's eyes fluttered closed, an invisible breeze floating her hair around her face. A minute later her eyes snapped open and she eyed Spike warily. She dreaded to think what the vampire was going to do.




"Well?"




"Okay, so there’s a little more. But you're not going to like it. And I don't want you going all fangy on me."




"Can't. Got a beating ticker. Not been vamped yet."




"Oh! Well how...never mind. Look, I'm just going to tell you."




"Go on, spit it out."




"No matter what you do, you will lose someone you love. The choices you make here will determine who that will be. And until the choice is made, here you will remain."




Spike stalked to the sofa, fists clenched in anger, eyes glinting. Even with the floppy hair and worsted suit, he was chilling. Cordy flinched.




"Useless bastards."




"I’m just the messenger, Spike. You might want to back off a little? I'm serious – back off!"




Spike growled, but took a few steps backwards. Wasn't the girl’s fault, he knew that, but he hated being played. And how the hell was he supposed to choose when he didn't even know what the choices were? This truly pissed him off.




"Okay, fine. Let's get on with it. What’s next?"




"Beats me. Messenger, remember." Cordy softened her tone as Spike shot her a pained glare. "Look, Spike – I really don't know, but I will help you."




"Help me what, pet? Pass a death sentence on somebody I love? Tell you what, you go and tell the Powers that I'm not playing their game anymore. They want Angel so much? They can find some other mug to be their blood donor. I've had it. I'll find my own way back."




"But Spike..."




"No. Go tell them. I'm done."




Cordy got to her feet, shaking her head. "They're not going to be happy, Spike. But I'll tell them."




In a shimmer, she was gone, leaving Spike to watch over the unconscious Drusilla.




+ + + +




Xander flicked idly through the countless channels on the TV. Wolfram and Hart had cable that spanned dimensions, yet there was still nothing worth watching. He swigged from one of the bottles of demon booze he’d found in the rooms he'd wandered into on his way back from his last meeting with Angel. Since then, he'd been holed up and drinking steadily, lamenting his life. Existence. Whatever.




Yeah, and his so-called 'friends' were real concerned about him because look at all the visitors he'd had. He could hardly move for good-buddies.




"Yeah, well who needs 'em. Don't need nobody. 'm good by myself."




He ignored the knock on the door. It got louder, but he just turned up the volume.




"Xander? Come on, I know you're in there. It's me, Willow."




Xander turned the volume up even more to drown her out. Willow was the last person he wanted to see. She'd let him down, betrayed him, sided with that vampire. And after all they'd been through. Couldn't trust anybody. Anya used to say that; couldn't trust anybody but yourself. She'd been right.




More knocking. The doorknob being rattled. Xander shifted on the bed, swigging more liquor.




Willow stopped knocking, chewing her lip with indecision. She hated that Xander didn't want to see her. He was her best friend! She ought to have known how damaged he was. She recalled her own meltdown, years ago now it seemed, and how Xander had managed to bring her back from the badness with his love, his sheer belief in her. She owed him nothing less than that.




Closing her eyes, she murmured softly and pressed again on the door. It swung open, the stench of stale sweat and old alcohol wafting out to greet her. She nearly gagged, but walked in anyway.




"Hey, Xand! What ya doin'? Anything good on the TV? How about one of those Indian dancing movies we used to watch?"




Xander turned his bloodshot eye on her, the glower on his face far from reassuring. Willow paused; there was nothing but hatred there. Something bad was going on with him. How had they not seen what been happening? Guilt, anger, helplessness – she felt them all and didn't know what to do. But she would try anything to get the old Xander Harris back.




"Shift up, buddy. And hand me that bag of chips. Haven't eaten in ages!"




Xander didn't move, but Willow chattered on regardless, plonking herself on the edge of the bed and nudging him over with her hip. She was reverting to babble Willow, due to being so nervous she could hardly breathe. Eventually, Xander sat up, spilling some of the green grog down his less than pristine shirt.




"Oh spare us the phoney perky crap, Willow, heard it all before. Why don’t you just fuck off and leave me alone… I sure as hell don’t want you here. I don’t want any of it. It burns me up – Sunnydale’s gone and yet there’s you and Buffy still ass-kissing around the same bunch of freaks we’ve been fighting for the last seven years. Anya…” His voice wavered and Willow reached to take his hand but he jerked away from her. His voice broke, "Anya was worth a thousand of any of them, and she was taken from me. How come Anya dies while rapist filth like Spike gets to live? It's not right, Willow. Nothing's right...it’s never gonna be right while he’s around" He tailed off, drinking some more and spilling it out of the corner of his mouth.




Willow was shocked. Where had all this come from? They were all upset about Anya and yes, okay, Xander and the former vengeance demon had patched things up before the final battle, but this was out of all proportion. He was steeped in hatred and dead set on revenge. And what was all that about Spike? It was as if he was focusing every iota of hatred on the vampire. It scared her. Was this how she’d been when she lost Tara? She shuddered. It was a wonder she hadn't caused more damage, the power she had access to. At least Xander wasn't capable of ending the world. She hoped.




"Xander, I’m sorry… and I understand. You know I do. You must believe me. I lost Tara, and I thought my heart would break. Grief made me do crazy things, things I’d never do. You saw how I was. You saved me. You saved the world, remember. It hurts so much you can hardly breathe, but there are people who love you. I love you. Remember telling me that you loved me?"




Xander turned his tear-filled gaze on her. Part of him wanted to break down and hold her, cry until he was empty. And if anybody understood, it was Willow. But that meant nothing next to the revenge Angel had promised him, and the anticipation of it tasted so good. He wouldn’t give that up. Angel had offered him a deal whereby the mystics at Wolfram and Hart could bring Anya back if he helped him dispose of Spike and shoved Buffy into Angel's waiting arms. Xander had no problem with that. He'd be doing the world a favour, he figured. So he'd jumped at the opportunity. And now he waited for instructions. But he'd been waiting for a long time. He hoped nothing had gone wrong.




Xander lurched up from the bed unsteadily and staggered to the bathroom. Willow ached as she watched him go, determined to make it all right again. He slammed the bathroom door behind him; Willow waited for half an hour before admitting defeat and leaving him alone.




Maybe she'd have better luck tomorrow. Just to be on the safe side, she gathered up all the alcohol she could find and took it with her.




+ + + +




"Spike? I'm very hungry..." Finally, Drusilla sat up and Spike handed her the now cool blood.




"Sorry, love. Best I can do. It'll fill a gap."




Drusilla wrinkled up her nose and sniffed at the jug, setting it aside without tasting it.




"I could eat you...we could dance again. My gallant poet..." She sprung up and started waltzing round the room, tra-la-la-ing to herself as she twirled. Spike couldn't suppress a chuckle. She could be quite sweet in her dark madness, listening to voices only she could hear. But he didn't want that again. Not now he had Buffy and Dawn and the light. And he would do everything he could to have them again.




He heard the door creak open behind him, and turned to see his mother dressed in her nightclothes and holding a nightlight.




"William?"




Before he could react, Drusilla had rushed past him and had his mother prone on the floor, her fangs buried in her neck.







TBC