*****
Part 6:

Lindsey focused on tuning his guitar. It didn't need it but it gave him something to do while he considered what to sing. He had long since lost his fear of tough crowds, not that he could recall ever playing one that held the level of animosity currently directed at him. He wondered how soon after his arrival that the spies from the firm had passed along the news. Or, perhaps they had know he was coming before he arrived - there had been a great many hungry young turks pursuing junior partner status when he had left.

Then there was Lorne's nagging habit of always questioning why he chose a particular piece. Maybe he should deliberately break with his bluesy standards... or keep the sliding chords of a blues ballad and wrap it around an unexpected song? That might work. Lindsey hid his smirk behind his shaggy hair as he bent over his guitar - he knew just the song to make the sanctimonious vampire uncomfortable.

Lifting his head he sang in clear and seductive voice, "The day rolls in,
the night rolls out
Desire rules without a doubt
The heart beats fast, you salivate
And when you come it won't be late
I guess by now you got the score
A little taste you want it more
>From San Antonio to Marrakesh
Yeah when the night comes
Every body's gotta have
Flesh"

Lindsey watched his audiences reaction. Angel, who had been standing close to where Cordelia sat, stepped back. His Childe ,though, slipped silently behind Xander, who had moved to sit next to the witch Willow when Lorne had gathered them for the readings. Her girlfriend had reached out to clasp her hand as the music started.

Linsey continued, "The prince of lust has met his match
The witch has brewed her baddest batch
His sword is sharp and hard as stone
Her cauldron begs for one more bone
And so my love, this story's told
>From modern times to days of old
>From Boston Mass. to Bangladesh
Yeah, when the night comes
Everybody got to have
Flesh" [1]

Spike leaned forward over the back of the divan and buried his gameface in the crook of Xander's neck. Lindsey knew he murmured something after inhaling deeply but couldn't hear what. Whatever it was it caused a leering grin to cross the human's face. Lindsey watched Xander tilt his head back into a deep kiss. Spike stroked back the thick dark hair of his human and trailed his slim pale fingers down his heavily muscled neck pushing back the shirt collar. That was when Lindsey saw it - vivid and white against the warmly tanned skin - a scar. A mark - Consort? No, impossible. Even if Spike were as unconventional as his Sire, no Master would tolerate the brash self-assurance this human radiated, especially not in front of another vampire. As unbelievable a concept as it was, they had to be mated.

Lindsey hadn't realized he had finished until they began to applaud. He had been too wrapped up in the snatches of information he had picked up from watching his audience. Not that the fact that Riley had some subtle - or not so subtle - dependence on his quiet friend was news. But watching them had yielded a depth to their nonverbal communication that belied what he had thought was a new relationship. Cordelia, it seemed, was well aware of Angel's growing attraction to her and also seemed to genuinely regret how much stress it caused the gloomy corpse. Lindsey had realized when Xander had crossed to the divan that he had a gun in the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back and now he was sure Xander also had a weapon in his left boot, but couldn't tell what it was. The fact that Spike was jealous wasn't news but Lindsey was amused to note the vampire leveled that possessive, threatening glare which he had turned on Lindsey at nearly everyone else, as well.

~~~~

Angel watched as his friends and guests fawned over Lindsey's sensuous, bluesy rendition of a pop ballad. Even Cordy seemed to forget that the whole purpose of the performance was so that Lorne could interpret the ex-lawyer's role, if any, in the prophesy. For all they knew, Cordy's vision's sole purpose was to save the Lindsey's worthless skin. Lorne seemed lost in thought. Angel wanted to know what Lorne had picked up but didn't want to disturb him if he was still receiving information. Besides that, he had other worries - Spike and Xander looked ready to rip each others clothes off and the scent of their arousal was making it impossible to think.

Angel growled softly. Cordelia and Wes didn't seem to notice him, but Willow's girlfriend turned wise eyes on him and then darted that gaze around the room, as if seeking the source of his displeasure. Spike buried a snicker in Xander's neck. Xander cocked his head, only partly to give Spike better access. He shot Angel a suspicious look, quickly hidden behind a grin, but not before Angel was reminded of the scent of holy water he had caught when the boy - no, young man - had first approached him. Angel knew that the water pistol, conveniently strapped at the base of Xander's back, wasn't for him or his infamous Childe, and worried that the pressure of guarding the Hellmouth was making the human paranoid. Surely, he thought, Xander could relax here.

Angel had hated how Xander constantly suspected his motives and actions, even before he had lost his soul. Now, watching the dark-eyed young man turn laughing eyes on William the Bloody, Angel realized that just as Xander had been willing to trust him to take care of Dawn and the witches if the human hadn't survived their skirmish with the Initiative, Angel could trust this quick-minded, wary survivor to protect his family if something were to happen to him.

Almost as if Xander heard his thoughts he looked up at him. Angel was pinned by the open laughing look of pure enjoyment. Gone was the forced grin that was second nature to the hyperactive human when hiding anything, replaced by open amusement. Xander nudged Spike into a sprawling position between he and Willow and turned his attention to Lorne.

"Honey, if an expensive blond hasn't grabbed you yet, you might want to run now," Lorne mused as he slowly paced near the musician.

"Angel, does this guy come with a translator. 'Cause Giles is easier to understand," Xander drawled.

"Yeah, Peaches, and our Watcher is better than yours with prophesies, too," Spike chimed in.

"Hush!" Willow slapped Spike's knee and Angel wondered if she had been aiming for Xander.

"Anything else?" Angel asked, quietly as Lorne's red eyes met his.

"Just, music, a lot of music... a vague sense of a woman... nothing dramatic, no apocalypse, no... none of the things I saw when you were trying to decide whether to leave the firm," he whispered the last to Lindsey and trailed his fingers gently through the musician's shaggy hair.

Willow looked up. Tara had just whispered something to her that even Angel hadn't heard with his enhanced senses. The redhead turned a guarded look on Lindsey and said, with a look of resolve that still had shades of the babbling fifteen-year-old Angel had first met. "Lindsey? If you don't mind my asking? Ah, how come your hand doesn't have an aura?"

~~~~~

Spike had heard odder tales than the lawyer's explanation of his evil hand, but he didn't like the idea of this law firm. If they had gone to all the trouble of bringing Darla back and having her turned, Angel was in the middle of an all out war, whether he admitted it to himself or not. Spike had no intention of letting his mate or their 'pack' get caught in the crossfire. Peaches was going to get a piece of his mind if that scrap of skin held anything that could hurt what was his.

"Er, Angel... we don't have to listen to you sing, do we? 'Cause, hey, been warned," Xander sounded like he was joking but Spike recognized the real panic in his eyes. Spike knew that this Xander-babble was being used to distract the others from his mate's very real stage fright. Xander may have turned the tale of the talent show into an amusing bedtime story for Spike, but he had ended it with 'and that is why I'll never set foot in front of an audience again'.

"You know," Xander added, "Spike does a killer rendition of 'I Wanna Be Sedated'." [2]

Spike smirked as his mate pushed him forward, or at least tried to - a vampire made a hell of an immovable object. The witches were giggling at Xander's babble. He heard Red ask her honey to sing, but doubted that the shy one would be willing to in front of all these strangers, but decided that he'd like to hear her some movie night when it was just the four of them.

Spike wanted a better look at the skin that the Watcher had shown him. He hadn't had time to do more than glance at the notes before he'd caught this musician of Angel's trying to make time with Xander. But, he'd realized that, judging by the age and material used to make up the scroll, he didn't want anything it foretold happening while his humans were visiting.

"Er, what about you, Pet? How about you sing for us?" Spike grabbed his struggling mate and manhandled him to the center of the room. He loved to watch the wheels turn behind those intelligent eyes. He knew Xander would maneuver out of singing and wanted to see how.

Gasping for air over his laughter Xander said, "Because I have a voice that would bend metal, peel paint and sends bats reeling for miles."

"Who told you that? I like when you sing, luv. Just your choice of material I find disturbing." Spike held on, both to keep Xander from bolting and to ensure the boy didn't slip to the floor since he was still laughing.

"Willow. Which, talk about glass houses..." Xander snickered as Willow whirled on him with her mouth open to protest.

"Willow has a lovely voice," Tara said clearly and firmly. Xander and Willow traded smiles, having once again caused Tara to step out of her shell.

"I want to hear Cordy sing 'Oh, Lord, Won't You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz', Xander smirked at his new target. [3]

"As opposed to Sid Vicious does Frank Sinatra?" she shot back, rolling her eyes.

Spike wondered if Angel's impassive expression as he watched the banter had to do with the vague impressions that the demon Seer friend of his had voiced, or merely indicated the Poof had no idea what they were talking about. You would think with all the hours he devoted to brooding he could have turned on a telly or a radio in the last fifty years, Spike mused. Spike magnanimously let Xander slide down onto the couch again, back between the witch and the brunette. Xander had promised delicious things if Spike made and effort to get along with Cordelia.

It turned out that no one wanted to take the stage. Some claimed lack of talent but it was more likely none of them wanted to be read. Cordelia was reassuring the witches that they would stop by Lorne's place the next night and have a go at the real thing. She seemed to be bubbling over with plans and Spike got the feeling that the Seer missed her old mates.

~~~~~

The humans slipped off to their respective beds at around three thirty. Spike settled down at the wide conference table in the makeshift library, with a tumbler of Angel's best whiskey. He waited until the allegedly ex Watcher headed up to bed, not sure he wanted his gift with languages in their bleeding archives. Wesley had chosen to stay over rather than drive home after consuming too much of the aforementioned whiskey. Spike sensed Xander padding barefoot down the thickly carpeted stairs. He had hoped to slink into their room before daybreak, keeping his mate none the wiser about this prophesy nonsense. Briefly, he considered trying to distract the boy with Angel's laughably shoddy shelving units; those alone should have Xander reaching for a tape measure and drawing up plans.

"I love a man with a brain," Xander teased as he slid behind Spike, who was perched on the edge of a straight-backed chair and scowling at a tattered scroll. Xander wrapped his arm around his distracted lover's waist for a quick squeeze before trailing his hands back and up to the vampire's shoulders. Kneading the hard, corded muscles he asked, "I don't want to know what that's made of, do I?

"Relax, Pet - s'not human." Spike's voice was shaded with a tired smile.

"But that is skin, right?" Xander's hesitant gesture toward the document fell short of physical contact, perhaps because of the dubious material that the prophesy was written on or because that Spike had been handling it as if it were made of cobwebs.

"Yeah. Vamp. Lasts longer than just about anything they used to record on in the day this was created. Not as indestructible as stone tables, but the ink doesn't fade." Spike said, leaning back into the warm, strong hands and closed his eyes in pleasure.

"How? I mean... wouldn't the vamp... dust when... How did they keep the skin?" Xander stopped his loving ministrations and cocked his head to see clearly into Spike's eyes, looking innocent and adorably confused.

Spike quickly weighed the enjoyment he got from making Xander go 'ewww' against an uncomfortable desire to keep those eyes wide and naive. But Xander wasn't naive, not with being Hellmouth born and bred and if he weren't as knackered as Spike, he would have pieced it together by now. Rather than letting his mate either work it out on his own or worse, go ask Angel, Spike said. "Simple, luv. You just tattoo your words on the vamp, remove his skin, then dust him."

Instead of an 'ewww', Xander shuddered and looked quickly into his lover's eyes. Spike was still amazed to see the flare of protective passion flash across Xander's warm brown eyes. Never mind that he was the Big Bad, never mind that he was a soulless, chipless, evil undead killer, Xander still reacted to any threat to Spike as if he could somehow protect the vampire from the world. Oddly enough, when it was just the two of them and Xander wrapped Spike in his warmth - like now - Spike believed he could.

"Maybe he volunteered, so that the information would be saved longer... maybe he wasn't dusted?" In an instant, Spike's fierce warrior was a boy, asking to be told that the world wasn't the cruel, self-serving place it was, and Spike actually considered feeding him that lie.

"Xan, luv, this... this prophesy, it was laid down by the Powers that Be, eh? The same ones Angel gets his marching orders from - the same ones who call the Slayer. You think they just let this bastard," Spike nodded at the skin, "loose? Dusting him would have been the compassionate thing to do, compared to keeping him around as a renewable supply of paper." Spike softened his words by soothingly stroking the side of Xander's troubled face. "'Sides, was an evil undead bastard - don't you go jumping teams on me, Pet. You're allowed to take my side 'cause we're shagging, but I don't want you to turn all 'vampires're people too' on me."

"Umm.." Xander blushed and chuckled, "not going to be an issue."

"Any luck?" Wesley asked. He came through door while reading a fax, obviously he hadn't gone to bed, . When he looked up at the men sharing the chair he backpedaled, "Er... that is.."

Xander laughed and Spike groused, "Too much luck. Like all Ephratian this shit has layers and layers of meanings. Trouble is there's no way to know how the illusions and metaphors have changed... Shakespeare and Springsteen are both written in English but translations have to take into account the cultural nuances and social mores of each writer."

Wesley stopped still, his eyes narrowed as Spike's accent has shifted. He cocked his head and started to ask a question but Spike hummed briefly as he looked at Xander and sang, "The street's alive as secret debts are paid, Contacts made, they vanished unseen, Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades hustling for the record machine, The hungry and the hunted explode into rock'n'roll bands, That face off against each other out in the street down in Jungleland." [4] Spike pulled Xander's arms around him and leaned back to enjoy Wesley's confusion.

"You were actually able to read it? In its original text?" Wesley stepped up to the table and picked up the notebook in which Spike had been mapping out his translation.

"Reading it's no problem, understanding it..." Spike shrugged and Xander squeezed tighter. His enjoyment of Wesley's open-mouthed amazement outweighed his previous caution. Even Rupert didn't know just how much time he had whiled away while babysitting Dru in learning various demonic tongues. This one belonged to his Sire and he would just have to trust Angel to keep any contact he still had with the Watchers to a minimum.

Spike had heard Angel's soft tread on the stairs up from his basement lair and was please to feel Xander tense behind him. Wesley, however, jumped slightly when the dark vampire spoke.

"Any luck?" Angel leaned against the door frame. He had evidently only come up to check on the prophesy research. He was barefoot and wore only loose silk drawstring pajama bottoms.

"Got you a better translation." Spike sighed, running his hands back though his hair and leaning into Xander. "Not sure it makes any more sense what with all the bleeding symbolic crap."

"It might make more sense if someone," Xander emphasized just who someone was by sinking his teeth into the muscle over Spike's collarbone, "fed and got some sleep."

"You've a one track mind, Pet. Like that about you, I do." Spike offered a tired leer and nuzzled Xander's neck. "What say we leave Peaches to pull his over-moussed hair out over this shit and have ourselves a nap?"

"Spike, I could spend all night on this - you know I can't read Ephratian," Angel said while puzzling over Spike's notes.

As Xander was dragging Spike over to the stairs, Spike called back. "S'not like you were gonna do anything but wank, Soulboy."

Angel growled.

"Did he just do Lurch?" Xander asked.

"Pet, Peaches wouldn't know the Addams Family if one of them bit him in is ass." Spike snickered.

"Well, that's a disturbing image." Xander said, and the two left taking the disconcerting scent of arousal with them.

*****
Part 7:

Lilah schooled her expression. It could be fatal to let the Diva know she was more trouble than she was worth. The plan was going to hell. They hadn't budgeted for this contingency. A routine security check had found the remains of Glorificus' two Anubian guards. She had beheaded one and impaled the other on his own sword. She hadn't even fed on the minions. The earliest prediction of her destabilizing to the point where she would need to feed was six months, which would have been plenty of time to carry out the firm's plans.

Acquiring such exotic attendants was expensive. The firm had plans to house a supply of disposable humans when the need arose but the preliminary reports Lilah's assistant had drawn up, based upon finding Glory naked in the arboretum shrieking that 'heads would roll' was not good. There had to be some way to distance herself from his disaster.

Lilah walked into the richly appointed suite. There was no sign that it was on an upper floor of the firm's office building. It looked like any five-star hotel - provided that hotel offered an extremely exotic catering menu. The room was banked with flowers, large vases overflowing with lilies. Silver sparkled in dainty serving dishes, an ornate tea service and ice buckets stocked with bottles of champagne and beaded with water droplets. Glory was the jewel in this opulent setting. She lay naked on her stomach on the white silk divan while a small blue Noxxian kneaded her back by walking in place on it.

"I'm bored," the Goddess spat out as soon as Lilah entered.

"You have only to ask and it will be provided, most magnificent one," Lilah smiled, deeply grateful that telepathy wasn't one of this bitch's powers.

~~~~~

Spike had got up to see Dawn off and to make sure that the this Stephanie and her mother were still human. Instead of getting to go back and snuggle with his warm sleeping mate he had ended up going with the Poof to shake down some snitch about one of his bleeding-heart cases.

The walk back through the sewers had been filled with awkward silences and feeble attempts to talk while avoiding the sensitive subjects like Dru, the past, Xander and the future. Spike had to forcibly remind himself that dusting his Sire would get him in dutch with Red and the Nibblet, if not Xander. They emerged in the catacomb of the hotel's single level parking garage. On the far side from the gated tunnel entrance, past closely spaced support pillars, was a heavy bag and free standing weights. From the scent of sweat, Gunn and Xander had been passing time down here.

Spike and Angel walked toward the indistinct sound of voices. They slowed their strides simultaneously at the sound of the young men's conversation.

"...she trusted me to make everything all right - I let her down. She should never have been involved with the fight." Gunn's voice was raw with suppressed emotions. As Angel and Spike peered around the pillar they saw Xander and Gunn sitting on the floor, their backs against a wall passing a bottle of green liquid back and forth.

"You didn't know - no one can. That friend of mine - the one I told you about - if he had known what was out there, I don't know that he would have been any more careful... hell, I don't know if he would have fought the good fight or hid under the bed. Jessie was always a hell of a lot smarter than me. But I do know that if he had been asked before....before it h.. happened... he would have told me to stop him from hurting anyone."

"But that doesn't make it easier," Gunn said. His voice was toneless and battle-weary and he shared a knowing look with Xander.

"No. Not one little bit." Xander swallowed hard. He said, "I was fifteen when Giles told me... 'that's not your friend, that's what killed him' but even then I knew that that wasn't the whole truth... sure there was something else, something... dark and hungry looking out of his eyes, but part of Jessie was there too - at least some part of him. I knew that. Maybe not his soul, but something that made him Jessie and not the guy down the street... that was what made me hesitate, made me unable to..." Xander cleared his thoat. "That's what haunts my dreams too. The look in his eyes, so familiar and so different. My hesitation could have gotten Cordy killed, or me. If he hadn't been shoved..." Xander handed the bottle back to Gunn.

"You were fifteen?" Gunn said.

"So was he." Xander said

Gunn passed the almost-empty bottle back and asked, "You really think that there's something there - beside the demon - in all vamps?"

"There has to be, man - Angel's proof of that." Xander said

"Huh?" Gunn looked at Xander like he doubted the young man's sanity.

"Look. I should probably just shut up - more than anyone, I don't want to add to your pain. I know how it haunts you - it doesn't ever really stop and I so don't want to make things worse..."

"No. I get it. It's okay, I really want to know what you think." Gunn said.

"Angel - the souled version, he's really into paying for his sins, right?" Xander said.

"Yeah, I guess once an 18th-century Catholic always an 18th-century Catholic - he's real big on penance." Gunn said.

"Whatever. So, if he, all of him, was evicted out of the body during the bad old days....what's he got to repent? All that death, all that mayhem, that's someone else's sin - the demon, the powers that be, Darla; doesn't matter who, just that he wasn't there. If he wasn't even there, how could he be responsible?" Xander drained the bottle of sports drink and idly spun the plastic bottle on a fingertip.

As Gunn thought deeply, Spike watched Angel's reactions to the conversation. His face had been unguarded as the two humans speculated about the nature of souls and conscience. Gunn slowly asked, "You don't like Angel, do you?"

"Deadboy?" Xander smiled and shook his head. "Don't let this get out, but he's okay - he's really grown up."

Gunn's open laughter rang and hid Spike's snicker at the incredulous look that flashed across Angel's face. Gunn gasped for air and said, "But, Cordy said..."

"Dude, I was fifteen - this tall, buff guy was stepping out of the shadows, spouting cryptic comments and stealing all the attention, of course I hated him. He looks the same as he does now when he was stalking Buffy. Buffy was exactly the same age as Dawn is now when she came to Sunnydale. That would be like you making a play for Dawn. Which, by the way, I would so kick you ass for - we clear? That was gross even before I found out he had a couple centuries on Joyce and lacked a pulse... To tell the truth, once I found out about the vampire shit he could have been a saint and ... you know? He got to have friends, he got the girl, he got a shot at redemption and Jessie got swept up off the dance floor and tossed out with the trash." Xander tossed the empty bottle, banked it off the wall and the rim of a waste can. It echoed hollowly in the silence.

Angel turned away and bolted back toward the entrance to the tunnels. Spike grabbed him by the shoulder just before he reached it, turning him around and shoved him against the wall. "He's entitled to an opinion - he lived through that." Spike's hissed words were accompanied by a baleful yellow-eyed glare.

"D... don't you think I know that?" Angel choked. "If I had just stood up to Darla..."

"You? Couldn't have happened, not then. When you were able you did. Souled or unsouled, you dusting her was the most surprising thing you ever did, Peaches. Still have trouble believing it. You were always so whipped," Spike said.

"You know... she's..." he said.

"Yeah, Dru said something semi-coherent regarding that. Just... don't say anything near Xander, eh? Last thing I need is him saddling up a posse of his minions to go hunt the bitch," Spike leaned against the wall beside Angel. He lit up a smoke and before pocketing the pack offer one to his Sire. To his surprise the older vampire accepted.

After a moment of listening to each other simulate breathing as they recycled the smoke, Angel said, "Xander has minions?"

~~~~~

That evening, Angel looked down to hide his amused smirk at his Childe's impatient fidgeting. They stood in the garish illumination of the West Hollywood strip outside a nondescript door nestled between a dance club and a sex shop. Rather Angel stood, Spike paced and smoked, alternately checking his watch and scanning the street in the direction from which the others were expected. Graham and Riley had gone into the unmarked door of the restaurant with Lindsey only a few moments ago. Angel waited outside, not liking Cordelia to be walking in this neighborhood even with Xander and the witches. Spike was with him in hopes of seeing Xander sooner.

The witches had kidnapped Xander out of bed four hours ago. As soon as Dawn had been picked up by her friend, Cordelia had mapped out her power-shopping plan and dragged off Willow and her girlfriend. They had returned that afternoon to drop off packages and enslave Xander as bag-boy/valet to give them all a chance to catch up on gossip. Spike had slept two more hours and then started bouncing off the walls and driving everyone in the hotel crazy as he bitched about everything except his Xanderless state.

The red-gold glow of the nearby shop caressed the sharp angles of his Childe's face, making soft shadows and darkened his unnatural hair color to some semblance of its original shade. Spike truly was a work of art. In flesh and form he outshone any of Angel's feeble attempts at art or creation. No mere drawing had ever captured the fierce beauty or violent tenderness that was this being. All the effort Angelus had heaped upon Drusilla's torment, or expended in teaching his cruel Penn were but a shadow of the jewel his mad daughter had plucked from the refuse in that London alley. Here was a demon unbridled by ritual or hierarchy, who had achieved infamy in a scant hundred years, even though he had been turned by a madwoman - hardly more than a fledgling herself. Spike had from the beginning only paid attention to the rules so he would know what to break. Clawing his way to Master status before most fledges would be trusted to hunt on their own Spike had made a name for himself before he had seen his first decade. Angel shook his head. It was so easy to forget. To see the childlike impatience which he displayed now or the pout he used when manipulating Xander and to forget that here stood - or rather lounged - a legend . Spike had, in the space of Angel's contemplation, moved from kicking the tire of some parked BMW to sitting on its hood and leaning back against its windshield. A scuffed Doc Martin rested in front of him and a casually draped arm on his knee. He finished his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in an exasperated sigh as he tossed it into the street. A steely blue-eyed glare was turned on Angel and Spike's lips narrowed dangerously.

Fortunately for Angel, before Spike could relieve his boredom by beginning a round of Sire bashing, Cordelia's laugher drifted over the night sounds, heralding the arrival of the shoppers. Looking down the strip he spotted the four of them about a block away, strolling leisurely. The witches had their heads together sharing some secret. Cordelia, showing more tanned flesh than she covered in a red halter-topped sundress, was flashing her brilliant smile, obviously amused by something Xander had said. Angel smiled at the sight of them. The fact that they had live though half of what they had was amazing but the fact that they had come though it and could still enjoy life was a miracle. A day didn't go by when he didn't worry about Cordelia. When it had been just her and Doyle with him, Angel had always believed that she could walk away at anytime and be safe. Now that she had inherited the visions, the Powers That Be had effectively bound them together in the fight against evil. He hated that her fragile body was subjected to the pain that had knocked a half demon off his feet and he hated that her all-too-brief mortal existence was being spent in such a frightening and dangerous manner. She had nothing to atone for, yet she was with him every step of the way in his struggle for redemption.

She looked ahead and spotted him. Her face lit up and Angel felt an answering smile stretch across his face. He had come too close to losing her in Pylea. Since their return and Buffy's death they had been dancing around each other in sparring sessions and during late night research. Wesley seemed to think he was still trying to make up for the Darla debacle but Gunn had been shooting nervous glances at both of them, obviously due to the Angelus factor of his curse.

Xander seemed also to sense the change in his companion as he broke off his monologue with a knowing smirk. Xander looked down so Angel couldn't see what expression followed. The young man's hair was getting long and obscured most of his face when his head was tilted forward. His rolling gait had little of the bouncing stride that Angel remembered of the boy. His long legs were wrapped in a pair of black jeans and he wore a gauze shirt open at the neck and with its long sleeves rolled up his forearms. No, these were not the kids Angel remembered from their sophomore year in high school - they were adults. Adults who had been tempered by adversity and grief. It was no wonder that they were turning heads as they moved effortlessly through the gathering club crowd.

Being West Hollywood, it wasn't at all unusual when a strange man, after watching Xander walk past, approached him and started talking. Spike went past in a blur and Angel pounced and put him into a head lock. Cordelia, who had been watching Angel, started to laugh and nudged the witches before pointing. Xander was blinking in confusion. His attention was on the young man attempting to pick him up and so remained oblivious to the source of his friends amusement. It apparently never occurred to Xander that he was being chatted up since he looked even more baffled when his new friend stepped closer.

Angel marveled that the brilliant mind, which was able to organize a civilian militia against both the forces of darkness and the secret government agency attempting racial cleansing, had never served Harris well in interpersonal relationships. Xander seemed to have a blind spot concerning his personal magnetism. It apparently never occurred to him that random strangers found him attractive.

"I'm not going to kill him, you tosser. Let me go, before..." Angel released Spike mid-threat. It was odd that he felt he could take his psychotic Childe at his word but he did.

Covering the distance between the two groups in a flash, Spike pulled Xander back flush against his chest and growled, "Mine!"

Xander turned his head slightly to look at Spike, and then turned back to the man he had been speaking to. He blinked, smiled, shrugged and said, "His."

~~~~~~~

The Hagan demons who owned and ran the restaurant had been contacts of Doyle. Angel had returned their half-human granddaughter to them after a local wizard had abducted her for dubious purposes. They were an excellent connection to the more mundane portion of the demon community. They had operated a safe-haven tavern on this site in one form or another over the past one hundred and fifty years.

Cordelia got the wide-eyed reaction from her friends she had apparently wanted. The witches were absorbed in the details of the decor and Xander was fascinated by the green flames on the open grill. After a baffled glance at the menu, Xander had whispered to Spike, "Order me something that isn't human, but won't kill me." The witches had followed his lead, only amending their request to include no meat. Wesley arrived late, having managed to persuade Fred to venture out as a sort of trial run for her excursion with Cordy and Dawn the next day. Gunn had bowed out but was planning to meet them later at Lorne's.

Apparently sometime during the morning shopping Cordelia and the witches had decided that they were going to get Xander on stage. He was currently not having any luck using puppy eyes to try and persuade Spike to defend him, or at least take his place.

~~~~~

Lilah was working late, having ordered in sushi. She was just biting into the spicy salmon when Garrett popped his head in without knocking. She loathed the little upstart. He had the nerve to imagine he was her rival. The manipulative bastard played the role of a sycophant but his ambition hung around him like a bad smell. He was young and ruthless but he was no Lindsey McDonald.

"I don't recall us having an appointment..." Lilah started.

"We don't. Just thought you could use my help," Garrett interjected smoothly.

Given his penchant to help himself to everything including the credit for others work Lilah didn't think that that was likely. "I really don't think you have the security clearance to help with any of my projects, Garrett."

Recognizing the frosty dismissal for what it was Garrett smiled and started to leave, but added just before closing the door, "Of course, Ma'am. I just thought you should know your project just hurled a Noxxian out of the forty eighth-floor window."

*****
Part 8:

They lingered over dinner. It seemed more intimate wedged around the table in the back booth than the long table had the night before. Though their number wasn�t diminished much the conversation flowed more around the large circular table. Cordelia didn�t seem to mind Lindsey coaxing Fred into the conversation as much, although Wes was keeping a sharp eye on the ex-lawyer. Willow had pointedly not sat next to Riley but overheard the young man apologizing to Spike. Hearing him admit to Hostile 17 that Xander had been right and that Spike�s intervention, regardless of the motivation, had saved his life went a long way to dissuading her from the whole shovel concept. Although, she reflected, she would like to know what he had been referring to when he mentioned something regarding the �fake stake�. Unfortunately, that conversation had ended upon Xander returning from the men�s room.

Lorne�s club was close enough for them to walk to in the warm summer night. Cordy had said something about the neighborhood being dangerous but judging how Angel was shadowing her Willow was willing to bet she couldn�t be safer. Squeezing Tara�s hand and sharing a smile, she tried to put her concerns about Angel�s curse out of her mind. She tried to appreciate a rare slaying-free night without an apocalypse to abort where she could just show off her girlfriend and relax with her favorite people.

Wes took Fred back to the Hyperion. He was going to join them later. Fred had had her fill of crowds and chose to call it a night rather than go with them to meet Gunn at the karaoke bar. She offered to wait for Stephanie�s mom to drop off Dawn and make sure she was safe.

Walking down into Caritas was like stepping into some old movie, except everything wasn�t in black and white. Actually, Willow thought it was quite colorful; not only the decor but the patrons were vivid and memorable. There was a six-armed woman with two mouths singing close harmony with herself to �Mama He�s Crazy� on stage . Lorne�s attention was on the performer but a sleek, silver, androgynous demon, slightly taller than Xander, greeted them at the door and silently, with a nod, escorted them to a reserved section with three tables pushed together.

Angel took their order up to the bar. Cordy whispered to Willow that he had an ulterior motive and was bypassing the waiter so that he could check with one of his informants. It was nice that she and Cordelia had outgrown their... well, it hadn�t been a rivalry. Willow was just relieved that now that all the forced structure of high school was gone that she and Cordy could treat each other like adults. The harder part was admitting she had been as much to blame for the roles they played as Cordy. Willow knew she had let her geeky insecurity trap her in the role of research girl. It had been so easy then to blame Cordelia for putting her there instead of admitting that being homework helper and book study girl had made her feel safe in their very scary high school - even before they knew about the Hellmouth. When she thought back to her reaction to Xander and Cordy dating she realized she had been the one who was obsessed with labels and panicked when Cordy had stepped out of the stereotype. Deep down she had known she would never lose Xander�s friendship but had told herself that was why she had reacted so badly. The truth was uglier. She hadn�t been ready to take off her mask and if Cordy was willing to admit that there was more to Queen C than a vain, shallow beauty queen, people might have wanted Willow to look behind the computer nerd on the honor roll.

Shopping with the bitch queen of Sunnydale had been eye-opening. Cordy had known every resale shop and bargain basement in the metro area. She could assess the store with a glance and had pulled them out of a couple before Willow had seen more than the inside of the door. But she had found a lovely jacket for Tara in the perfect color.

Willow was a little in awe of how independent Cordy was. She couldn�t have imagined doing what Cordy had done. The thought of picking up and relocating to a different city, getting an apartment alone . Well, sure, there was Dennis, she thought, which was probably nice when you heard a noise in the middle of the night, but Cordy paid all the bills. It seemed so grown up, more so than it had when Xander had gotten his own place. Willow was kind of dreading graduation, and not just due to crispy mayor flashbacks. If they kept up their course load, what with all the summer work, she and Tara would be graduating in the spring. She wasn�t sure she was ready to start interviewing and, gasp, working. Tara read her mind, like always, and squeezed her hand under the table.

Cordy had been full of tips that, oddly enough, no longer sounded like put-downs. She had found several plain silk knit tees in Willow�s size. When Willow pointed out that they weren�t her style Cordelia said, �They�re washable silk. First, silk wears like iron and the colors do not fade like cotton. Second, these have no style, they�re a staple ,like flour. You build your style around them. You can wear them with jeans or a skirt and go casual or under a suit jacket. You should start building a professional wardrobe now, slowly, so you get just what you want. You�ll need at least a week or two�s worth of clothing to start a job, and the chances of your first paycheck covering it are slim. Use your accessories to personalize your style. You buy if an item meets three requirements and only then; if the fit is perfect, if the color is flattering and if it has classic lines. Nothing dates clothing faster than froufrous. Trust me, it kills me to think how much I spent on trendy crap that I can�t wear because it�s so out of style.�

Cordy had sighed wistfully over lattes before they headed back to the hotel to get Xander. Tara had been talking about an internship she had applied for in a holistic healing center just outside Sunnydale. Willow didn�t know what had surprised her more, Tara pausing mid-story and saying to Cordelia, �You can always go part time,� or Cordy�s sad headshake. It was easy to forget how well Cordy had done in school - she had always hidden her intelligence - and college, although always treated as a given, had been more of a social event in the brunette�s plans.

Cordy sighed again now as looked around for Angel and their drinks. She had only ordered a mineral water and Willow wondered if she were impatient for its arrival because she wanted to take something for her headache. Tara seemed to have warmed to the outgoing brunette and in an uncharacteristic burst of stubbornness, while they had shopped, had refused to take one more step until Cordelia sat down and rested. Cordy had tried to brush it off, but had finally admitted how much pain the visions were causing her and how scared she was.

Just as Cordy started to stand, Spike said, �You stay with your mates, Princess, I�ll find the bloody tosser.� He stood in his seat, which was behind the table and against he wall, and vaulted the table in a powerful jump. Landing perfectly in the aisle he bowed to the smattering of applause and crossed the crowed lounge, heading for the bar.

~~~~~~

Buffy was wide-eyed with panic. After running out the strange room into a richly paneled corridor, she found herself at the far end of a hallway lined with locked doors. She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself and forced the lock on the closest door. It was an office. The room she had been in before seemed like a private home or a hotel, but once she had reached the corridor it had seemed like the same building she had tried to get out of before. She didn�t remember anything about her last escape attempt after reaching the ground floor. Failing to find a door which lead out she had just reached the point where she was going to throw something though one of the thick glass-like walls and suddenly, bam, she was laying naked while a little blue demon gibbered and jumped up and down on her back. The door opened on a dim spacious office with a wide view of the L. A. skyline. As she frantically bolted to the phone on the desk, she thought about the demon who had been with her when she appeared in the room. She wondered if he had teleported her from the atrium to that room and if there were any more of the little blue creatures. She hadn�t meant to hurl him through one of the windows, just to get him off her. Of course, it could be lucky she had slayed him before he spit something icky or stabbed her with some hidden poison. Maybe he worked for the big dog-headed guys with the swords.

She dialed home and was startled to hear that the line was no longer in service. As she wondered what had happened to the sword she had taken from the guard demons, her eyes strayed to a page-a-day calendar on the desk. August 31, 2001. Shit. Giles, she thought, I have to find Giles. There was no answer at Giles� home number and the magic shop line was busy. Willow wouldn�t still be in the same dorm room, and then she thought, Xander. Buffy dialed the familiar number and almost screamed when his machine picked up after three rings. What the hell was the etiquette for this? Should she say �Hi, not dead. Yeah, I know its been like, six months, but could you come get me? I�m in some demon-infested high rise in downtown L. A. and I really need a ride home - and a shower �cause some creepy blue guy had his toes on me.� No, that would send him into full-out babble mode when he got the message. Speaking of message, this was just weird. Xander�s voice said, �This is the Xand-man. If you want anything to do with Luther Construction contact Abby at the site during normal business hours. If you need anything to do with the COTH,� and there was an awkward pause, �er, gaming group, contact Jonothan at the magic box or his pager. If you want Spike, too bad, he�s mine. But feel free to leave a message anyway. We�ll be out of town until September 7th. Oh, and if you�re planning on robbing my place, my best friend�s a witch and you�ll be turned into a potted plant, which won�t get watered because, hey, I�m going to L. A.�

She started to dial the magic shop�s number again only to morph into Glorificus. Glory shrieked as she tore the sheet from her body. The receiver of the phone crushed under the power of her delicate fist. When she jumped up and down, the floor of the building shook. She shoved the desk and it crashed halfway through the opposite wall. She whirled as Lilah entered the office, �You. Said. He. Was. Gone!�

~~~~~~

Spike sidled up to Angel and said, �Pet, you should have sent the drinks on over, your little girl smells of pain.�

Angel whipped his head around to look at Cordelia. Before he could start over to her Lorne said, �Torsten, honey, chop chop. Can�t have our guests wasting away now.� The silent silver demon bowed with a smirk and carried a try far too large and heavy for a human to lift over to the VIP area. �So, muffin,� Lorne addressed Angel, �just here to wow the out-of-town family or looking for info on that prophesy you mentioned?�

�Actually, I was wondering if you had heard anything on that story that Bennie was telling when I got here?� Angel said.

�What about how a 120 lb blueberry splattered on to the pavement outside of everybody�s favorite evil law firm? Granted, Noxxians tend toward the lighter side of darkness, but anyone working upstairs would have been screened. Still, not their usual way to dispose of the hired help. Why?� Lorne lounged against the bar as he spoke and lifted his wrist to shoulder level. He held his empty hand in the shape of a glass and didn�t so much as glance at it. After a moment his red eyes narrowed and he turned his head just as Torsten returned and slipped a Sea Breeze into his waiting hand. The smirk was back as the silver demon slipped behind the bar.

Ignoring the bartender, Lorne said to Spike, �That�s a lovely necklace. I don�t recognize the stone, what is it?�

�Silicon,� Spike said flatly, draining his glass and nodding to Torsten for a refill.

Angel was torn. He wanted to find out what Lorne had heard about the incident over at Wolfram and Hart, but he wanted Cordelia to enjoy her time with her friends. She had always been surrounded by people in Sunnydale, and though she had made quite a few acquaintances during her arduous auditions, the nature of their work isolated her almost as much his demon did Angel. He wanted her to have a chance to just be a normal young woman visiting with her old chums and not drag her into yet another life-or-death situation. Surely whatever was going on could wait until the Scoobies returned to Sunnydale. Spike was obviously not happy about being reminded about the chip, although he had been frighteningly reasonable about Angel taking in two of the commandoes who had captured him. Angel suspected that Spike was keeping close tabs on him to make sure that his humans didn�t get dragged into any local animosity centered around the agency.

After how well the dinner had gone last night he hadn�t been prepared for Willow shifting from foot to foot out side the door to his suite early in the morning. She had followed him back to his office, saying much but communicating little. Angel had just considered sending for Xander to translate when Wes came down from one of the guest rooms still wet from his morning shower. It was all Angel could do not to physically restrain the Brit from giving the already bouncing Willow coffee before they sat down to sort through Willow�s news.

After a few more minutes of beating around the bush and apologizing and explaining it was just second nature, not that she didn�t trust Angel, but as she had clarified, Xander had fast and firm rules about a secure perimeter, Willow had whispered, �You have bugs.�

�Well, it�s an old hotel. We have a service, I could call...� Angel had been at a loss as to why this would shake the girl up so until he had seen Wesley�s eyes widen and then look suspiciously around the office.

�No, oh, well, we cleaned it�s just I thought you should know... It was just a little spell, I could set up something stronger and leave you... well, kind of the magical equivalent of a virus scan, er... I figured you didn�t know, what with them being of a techno-magic blend, � she had added hurriedly.

�Listening devices, Angel. She found...� Wes turned a questioning look on Willow.

�Mostly listening, lucky you�re a vampire... Oh, not lucky for you, but... well, if you had more mirrors around there would have been visual access as well as sound. Someone went to a lot of trouble... Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do? Angel, are you in trouble? It�s just if it�s dangerous... We�ll all help of course, but Xan will freak if we don�t relocate Dawn. He�s got this wicked maternal thing going and Spike will pull you apart if you keep him in the dark... He was like that even before we lost Buffy,� she said with a wince. She still tiptoed around Buffy�s name where he was concerned.

Watching his impatient Childe scowl into his drink, Angel remembered how good it had felt to have Spike at his side when he had gone to check some sources as to where the listening devices had come from and how they might have been set up. The thought that they might have been there ever since their trip to Pylea was disconcerting. Leaning back on the bar, Angel was treated to the sight of Xander slipping through the crowd and heading for the bar. In Angel�s opinion Xander�s hair was getting far to long to leave loose. Overlong and scruffy, it had dried in soft waves that were only partly out of the collar of the white gauze shirt he had slipped over a black tank top. Paired with dark black jeans the ensemble little resembled the bright primary colors Xander had preferred when Angel knew him.

�Hey, Deadboy, all this partying cutting into your brooding schedule?� Well, he might look different but it was the same old Xander. He let Angel buy him a beer and groped Spike before heading over to chat with Lorne and be introduced to the bartender of the week.

Angel had only intended to make small talk and had meant the remark as a compliment when he had commented on how much Xander had changed. Spike growled at him and said, �Would you lay off! Know him? You don�t know him - you never knew any of them - all you ever saw was her. Which is typically blind of you - they�re so much of who she was.�

He had loved Buffy but the Scoobies held him forever frozen in their minds as her angst-ridden vampire boyfriend. He would take it from humans but not from someone who should know him better. �Don�t bring this back to Buffy...�

�I�m not, but you were so obsessed with her you never saw him. Do you remember coming back to the mansion and raging about the Slayer�s white knight, that night he thwarted you at the hospital? You went on and on, told me all about the time he forced his way into your lair, the smell of fear rolling off him, and shamed you into helping the Slayer fight the Master,� Spike said.

Angel was almost relieved. Of course, Spike would see all things in how they related to Xander. He wasn�t blind to the way Willow had been watching him and Cordelia. He was glad Spike had not felt the need to make public everyone�s concerns about his sex life and the state of his soul. So he was more than willing to let Spike say his piece, even if his impetuous Childe would insist on painting him as the villain to Xander�s shining example. �I never said shamed...�

�Oh, no - not the might Angelus. Cor, I can just see it; a skinny, scared kid with nothing but a wooden cross and stones twice the size of yours...� Spike turned and leaned next to him, smirking and obviously enjoying whatever mental images his twisted imagination was providing.

�Your point?� Angel tried to sound bored but was having trouble suppressing an answering smirk.

�Did you see him, really? Angelus, he was fifteen when you were too �afraid� - wasn�t that what you told the Slayer? - to go with her to hunt her lost friend in the tunnels under the cemetery.� Spike�s voice had softened from his usual derisive tone. Shades of William�s original accent colored it and he seemed serious.

�He told you?� Had Buffy shared that conversation with her friends? He wondered. It wasn�t one of his proudest moments. He had still been deluding himself that he could remain in the shadows and merely point her in the right direction. Buffy may have been reluctant to embrace her destiny as the Slayer, but Angel had needed to be dragged, fighting it all the way, to the path of redemption.

�Willow,� Spike said with a shrug and set his empty glass down on the bar. �Fifteen and he went down into the tunnels with Buffy to find his friend and you the big strong vampire...

�Spike - � Angel said. This was neither the time nor the place for them to get into this.

�Fifteen when he had to dust the same friend to save that cheerleader of ours,� Spike continued.

�Spike - � Angel knew it was futile. Spike was relentless. If Angel didn�t stay and listen the blond would be shouting it from the top of a table soon.

�Sixteen when he bullied you into taking a stand against the Master. Seventeen when he decided to spare Buffy the decision and tried to keep her from knowing she was killing someone she loved. Eighteen when he led tots he used to play with into battle against an ascending demon. Nineteen when he stormed the Initiative and risked his life and his sanity in that soul-melding spell. Twenty when he stood against a hellgod without a prayer. Did you ever see? Any of them? They were kids. He�s not yet twenty-one and you were following his orders in that dust-up back in the Dale,� Spike finished in that oddly vulnerable voice.

His humans, Angel thought, William the Bloody has indeed claimed the Slayer�s team as his own. Angel shook his head with rueful acceptance and then realized something Spike had just said, �He�s not twenty-one? Spike, I just gave him beer.�

�Relax, you pillock. October. Hey, you didn�t give me beer,� Spike chuckled.

Angel smiled back, oddly glad to have his Childe at his side. �Spike...You want a beer?�

*****