TurningHimOutPart2

Spike stripped the sheets off the bed in one of the mansion�s sleeping quarters and replaced it with a clean set. He resented having been reduced to serving the other vampires, such duties were normally reserved for punishment, but the vampire population in the house was receiving some sort of training in the cellar, and Spike knew better than to complain.

The number of vampires was growing, too. Most of the �fleas� had minions of their own, and Spike recognized several as former clients. All part of Jagger�s Ultimate Goal, no doubt.

All sheets on the floor now changed, Spike pushed the laundry cart to the chute and unloaded it, then headed towards the elevator to start on the next floor.

Suddenly one of Jagger�s bodyguards entered the hallway. �Spike,� he said, �the boss wants to see you right away.�

The vampire left the cart where it was and headed for Jagger�s office. He found the wizard deep in thought. Spike waited in the doorway until he was noticed and Jagger waved him in.

�Come here,� Jagger said. �Behind the desk.�

Spike did, moving warily. When he stood before the man, Jagger instructed, �get down on your knees.�

Spike lowered himself down, trembling. Something had happened, he thought, and he was about to be killed.

�All the way down,� Jagger said. �On your belly.�

Spike closed his eyes as he stretched flat on the floor, bracing himself for the stake he was certain was coming. He didn�t move, except for his terrified shaking, for several long minutes. At last Jagger spoke.

�Why do you obey me, Spike?� he asked.

Spike didn�t move. �I don�t understand��

�I know about you,� Jagger said. �Even as a fledgling you never bowed down to anyone, and yet you crawl before me like an animal��

Spike flinched, but stayed on the floor.

�My question is why?�

�Because you could kill me just by thinking about it,� Spike said. �Or worse.�

�So you�re afraid of me?�

There was a pause before Spike answered, his voice barely a whisper. �Yeah. I�m afraid of you.�

�Then let me ask you this,� Jagger said. �Why continue your existence as a prisoner and slave?�

Spike struggled with the answer in his mind, and finally decided to be honest. �Because eventually you�ll die,� he said. �I�ve never heard of a necromancer unnaturally prolonging his life. I spent twenty years with Angelus and a century with Dru. I can stand being your butler for a decade or two.�

Jagger laughed. �A very wise answer. And what of the other vampires here? Are they afraid of me, too?�

�Most are. Except for the stupid ones.�

Jagger nodded and seemed to come to a decision. �Come with me,� he said, standing.

Spike got to his feet and followed the man to the main ballroom. The house was mostly deserted, so Spike was able to hear the two vampires and one human before he saw them.

The human, a man, was stretched out on one of the low couches while two vampires, both female, drained his blood. They were dressed in close-fitting silver gowns with matching headdresses, reminding Spike of cobras. One was sucking the man�s wrist, the other was at his neck, hiding his face. The man was laying still, and Spike could hear his heartbeat was very slow: he was near death.

As Jagger approached, the vampiresses ceased their drinking and slunk away. The human on the couch slowly opened his eyes. �Spike,� he said. �I was hoping you�d come here.� He tried to sit up but was too weak.

�Philip,� Spike said softly.

�He�s been asking after you for months,� Jagger said. �You made an impression, it seems. So when we decided to bring him across, it was only fitting that you make him. You�ve been without minions too long, Spike.�

The blond vampire took a step back. �I� I can�t��

�It wasn�t a request,� Jagger said.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering, and in one fluid movement dropped to his knees beside Philip�s body. He slipped the short-bladed knife he always carried out of his boot and made a short, shallow cut at his own collar bone. Then he lifted Philip upright and pressed the man�s mouth to the wound. �Drink, Philip,� he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Jagger nodding, his teeth bared like a grinning wolf.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Philip awoke from his death sleep the next night, and immediately began following Spike like a puppy. Jagger had been right, Spike thought, he had been without minions since the whole Ring of Amarra fiasco. He had forgotten how needy they were in these first days. Spike burned to be able to teach Philip as he should be taught, to watch with pride-filled eyes as the fledgling transformed into the fiercest of predators.

But here, in Jagger�s house, vampires only killed when he decreed, and even then it was only to create more of their kind. Most of the vamps here had never known the abandon of ripping open their prey�s throat and feeling the blood wash over them. They had never hunted in darkness, stalking until the moment was perfect.

It wasn�t natural, Spike thought, and Jagger couldn�t stem the tide forever. The growing army of vampires stashed in the cellar and attic and awaiting the necromancer�s call in beautifully-appointed vaults all over the city was hungry. Their demons raged every minute for the hunt and the kill that was theirs by supernatural law. Even a wizard as powerful as Jagger couldn�t contain that bloodlust forever.

�Sire?� Philip�s soft voice interrupted Spike�s thoughts as he watched the city prepare for the coming dawn. Spike turned slowly to face his offspring and saw the younger vampire was flushed with the blood he had drunk from his clients that evening.

Philip lowered his eyes. So eager to please, this one. �Do you wish to drink, Sire?�

In response, Spike stepped down from his window-side perch and approached his minion. He had taken to drinking some of the stolen blood which ran in Philip�s veins, secretly, when the youngster returned to him each night. It was better for Spike than the bottled stuff, and he suspected he would need his strength for whatever was coming. That it also reinforced his bond with Philip was only a happy coincidence.

�Bare your throat to me, childe,� Spike said, and Philip opened his shirt eagerly. Telling himself this was only for his own health, Spike extended his fangs into Philip�s neck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike was roused from a sound sleep by the door to his room being thrown open. Philip leapt up from where he lay sprawled at the foot of the bed and flung himself, snarling, at the intruders.

�Philip, no!� Spike shouted a moment too late. The younger vampire was still only half-awake, giving his mindless demon side almost total control.

He heard Philip yelp in surprise, and the heavy thump of his body being slammed against the wall. Jagger stepped into the room, one arm extended.

�You need to keep your pets on a shorter leash,� he said.

�We were sleeping,� Spike explained, glancing in Philip�s direction. The fledgling was cowering on the floor, still shaking from the effects of Jagger seizing control of his body.

�Things are moving quickly,� Jagger explained. �We decided you need another minion.� Two of Jagger�s thugs stepped into the doorway, dragging a corpse by the arms. They tossed it at Spike�s feet.

�He�ll wake up in a bit,� Jagger told Spike. �Don�t fell you need to treat him as well as your other one.� Jagger made as if to leave, then turned back. �One more thing,� he said. �I need to talk to you tomorrow about some special training for the fleas. Something for which you have special insight. Just to let you know.� And then he was gone.

Hesitantly, Philip approached the body that lay crumpled on the floor, and Spike knelt down, too.

�What is it?� Philip asked.

Spike prodded the cooling flesh with his fingers. �It will be a vampire,� he said, �when it wakes up, that is. Right now it�s just dead.�

�Why�d they bring it to you?�

Spike shoved the body onto its back, seeing the answer to Philip�s question.

�It�s Taylor,� he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike�s former captor awoke screaming, but it was cold comfort for the older vampire to beat him into silence.

Taylor was terrified, and it took some doing to even get a hint at what had happened. It seemed as if something big was on its way. Forces unknown were beginning to mass against Jagger, and when Taylor attempted to get out of town, he went from upper-lever operative to lowliest minion in the course of twenty minutes. He now seemed convinced that Spike would torture him to death.

But Spike had problems of his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

�It�s well known that you�ve killed two slayers. Is it true?�

Spike shifted in Jagger�s office chair. Strangely enough, he�d never had a good conversation that started that way. �Yes, it�s true.�

�Wonderful,� Jagger said. �That makes you something of an exert on them, then. Their strength, their weaknesses��

�They�re all different,� Spike said, choosing his words carefully. �What do you want to know specifically?�

Jagger considered for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision. �There are two slayers gathering their strength to take us all on. I need to know the chink in their armor.�

�Two.?� In spite of all that had passed since leaving Sunnydale, Spike felt his undead heart leap up. Buffy! She was still alive!

�How did you do it, Spike? What trick did you use?�

�No trick,� Spike said. �I fought hard, but in the end I got lucky. Yes. I killed two slayers. But I don�t tell the stories of all the times I ran away.�

�Still,� Jagger said. �I have over two hundred vampires serving me. Surely such overwhelming odds��

But Jagger was on Spike�s ground, now. �Two hundred vampires who�ve never hunted in their lives,� Spike told him. �You�re going up against two women who are born to kill us, plus all their little friends, no doubt. It�s like throwing a flock of sheep at a Panzer division. You�ll be massacred.�

Jagger�s face turned hard. �So, you�re not going to help me,� he said. �I�d heard rumors that you�d allied with the Slayer.�

Spike felt his stomach twist with fear. �I�m telling you the truth,� he insisted. �You have no idea what you�re going up against.�

Jagger waved one hand dismissively. �No matter. Either way you are useless to me.� He struck his desk with a fist. �I should have sold you when I had the chance. I don�t have the time now.�

And Spike suddenly saw his future, a centuries-long existence as a mere commodity, passed from hand to hand like a rare antique. �I�m not lying to you, I swear,� he said, aware he was nearly begging and hating himself for the weakness. �Buffy is the strongest enemy I ever faced��

�You know her name?� Jagger asked, his voice low, like a threat.

�Yes, I know her name,� Spike said angrily. �I tried to kill the bitch for three years.�

�More to the point,� Jagger said, �you failed to kill the bitch for three years.�

�Because she�s that good,� Spike snapped. �Aren�t you paying attention?� And suddenly Spike�s body lurched out of the chair, his back twisted awkwardly and his limbs splayed at odd angles.

He barely managed to suppress a scream.

�Now you listen to me,� Jagger said, rising to his feet. �The Slayers are coming, and they are coming for me. Now, you can argue with me and try my patience, or you can tell me everything you know, every detail, so I can defeat them quickly and go forward with my plans to take control of the demonic underworld. Are *you* paying attention?�

Weakly, Spike nodded, and Jagger released his control. The vampire dropped to the floor in a tangled heap and slowly got to his hands and knees.

�As long as you�re down there,� Jagger said, �perhaps you should thank me for sparing your life.�

Shaking uncontrollably, Spike crept forward to cower at Jagger�s feet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The interview took seven hours, and Spike recounted everything he remembered of the Slayers he had fought and killed, far more than he�d told Buffy. He told Jagger how he�d heard where they were, the journeys to them and the deliberate stalking until the moment was ready to strike.

The discussion was punctuated by outbursts of Jagger�s rage, and Spike realized he had never feared another being the way he feared this necromancer, and the earlier demonstration had only served to emphasize this fear.

The vampire called on all his charm and guile to convince Jagger that mere numbers wouldn�t defeat the Slayers, but ultimately the man was unswayed.

At last, Spike was dismissed from Jagger�s presence. He crept back to his room, weak and trembling. An hour later, two of Jagger�s lackeys informed him he would be needed below, and that he was to see the doorman for his duties. Sure this was some new punishment for Jagger�s disappointment, Spike went.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike lapped at the blood pooling in the wound on his latest client�s arm. It was her first time in a fang bar and she was nervous. She also kept going on and on about Anne Rice�s books, so Spike was playing up the �gentleman vampire� routine in a big way.

Jagger had taken out his frustration on the blond vampire, not only putting him into circulation as one of his fleas, but also by letting out the information that he was �fixed.�

Now Spike felt like he was moving through a waking nightmare, a drudge slave for the other vampires, a punching bag for Jagger�s men, and a most desirable whore for the mortals who bid for his services. He suspected it was only a matter of time until Jagger accepted an offer for his purchase.

He licked his client�s cut until it closed, then helped her to her feet and out the door. He watched her walk unsteadily to the bar, where she�d be given juice and a light snack, when he felt a heavy hand on the back of his neck.

�Let�s go,� one of Jagger�s thugs growled in his ear. �You�re taking too long. People are waiting for you.�

Spike felt it was an indication of how far he�d fallen that he couldn�t even think of a retort.

He returned to the main ballroom. Word about him had spread quickly in the week since he�d rejoined the general vampire population in the house, and a number of eyes turned to him as he entered.

His �minions,� Philip and Taylor, were there, too. Philip was chatting up a young man, a client, probably, while Taylor was kept busy delivering drinks. Spike settled in his usual place, a circle of chairs in an alcove off the main room. It allowed him a bit of privacy, though he could still observe the crowd, and if anyone asked for him directly, the other employees knew where he could be found.

Spike slumped in the overstuffed chair, and almost immediately his eyes began to close. Being at the constant beck and call of customers was exhausting. He brought his hand to his brow, covering his eyes.

He realized later he must have fallen asleep, because he woke to hear two furtively whispering voices behind him, one of which sounded very familiar.

�I�ve counted sixty on this floor alone,� the female, more recognizable voice said. �Of course, I don�t have Buffy�s spider-sense, I�m just going by observation, so that�s give or take about twenty.

Fuck, Spike screamed in his mind. He glanced around himself quickly, and was reasonably assured he hadn�t been seen, hidden in the shadows as he was. He stayed perfectly still, waiting to hear what else was said.

�I believe it�s safe to assume there are many more that we can�t see,� a male voice with a posh British accent replied. �I would recommend setting the place on fire, but there are so many humans here��

�I think we�ll need to throw up a barrier,� the female said, �and we�ll need to do it fast. Once Buffy gets within about a mile they�ll sense she�s coming.� There was a pause as Spike presumed she was checking her watch. �That gives us less than twenty minutes to get it done, and then another four minutes until she gets here.�

�We should move out to the perimeter,� the male said. �Are you ready?�

�Ready-Freddie.�

�Let�s go, then.�

They moved past Spike as they left, and he thanked whatever gods watch over vampires that they didn�t turn and see him. Once they were gone, he ran for the staircase and sprinted for Jagger�s office.

Two guards stopped him at the door. �What do you want, fangless,� one snarled.

�The Slayer is on her way,� Spike said. �I just saw two of her little friends downstairs.�

�The who?�

�The Slayer, you morons,� Spike said angrily. �You know, the little chit who�s got the boss shitting granite.�

With that the office door slammed open, framing Jagger in the doorway. His face was red and furious.

�What did you say?�

The two guards seemed to evaporate into the walls and Spike felt his knees buckle with fear. �The Slayer is coming,� he said as calmly as possible under the circumstances. �You�ve got twenty minutes, probably less.�

He wished he could have been even a little surprised when Jagger wrapped one fist around his throat and dragged him into the office.

�Why tell me now?� the necromancer snarled sarcastically. �Why not wait until she�s walking up the front steps?�

�I just found out myself,� Spike croaked out, and he felt his body go rigid.

�I should stake you now,� Jagger said, stepping back to let Spike dangle helplessly. �But I may have use for you yet.� He picked up a bottle of what looked like blue sand and drew a circle on the floor around the blond vampire. �This will hold you until I return,� Jagger said. �And then, you will hurt.�

Spike felt himself released as Jagger left the room, only to hit the magical barrier above the circle, surrounding him like a glass cylinder.

Spike slid to the floor and hugged his knees, the fingers of one hand to his lips. Helplessly, he began to rock.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy, Faith, and the rest of them arrived seventeen and a half minutes later, if the �boom� that shook the building was any indication. Spike quietly cursed the vampiric senses that allowed him to hear the screams and destruction throughout the building.

The waiting, as usual, was the worst. As he heard the shifting forces of battle, or things moving off, away from him, he felt brief thrills of hope that he might escape, only to be replaced by despair as he remembered there could be no happy outcome for him. Either Jagger would win and make Spike into his puppet, or the Slayer would triumph, and stake him where he stood.

Or sat, shaking with fear, as the case may be.

As he expected, the main battle on the ground floor was brutally short, as the diminishing frequency of the cries of dying vampires could testify. Then he heard human footsteps moving systematically through the house, half upstairs, half down. With disgust, Spike realized he was hoping that Buffy was the one who�d come upstairs.

You are one sick, sick vampire, he told himself.

The door to the office was opened and Philip ran in. �Sire,� he panted, �they�re coming. They killed Taylor.�

�Can�t say I�m all broken up,� Spike told him, standing.

Philip moved toward him. �What are you doing here? We have to get out.� He reached fro Spike only to be stopped by the magical barrier. �What is..?�

�It�s some kind of binding spell,� Spike said. �See if you can break it.�

Philip ran his hands over the cylinder, his movements jerky and panicked. �I can hear them,� he whined. �They�re almost here��

And then the younger vampire collapsed into ashes, revealing Buffy standing behind where he was, stake clenched in one fist.

Spike stared in shock. �Buffy,� he breathed.

�Spike,� she snarled back. �I should have known.�

Spike flinched back as far as he could. �Slayer, no, I��

She grabbed him by the front of the shirt, the binding spell immaterial to living flesh. �I should have done this a long time ago,� she said, yanking him forward.

He slammed face-first into the barrier, causing her to lose her grip. �What the hell��

�Please, Buffy, let me explain��

Almost instantly, the Slayer recovered, raising her stake.

�Buffy, no!� a voice shouted, and she stayed her hand on the downward motion. Angel stepped in from the doorway to join her.

�He doesn�t have anything to do with this,� Angel explained. �He�s being restrained.� He pointed to the sand on the floor. �See this? Vampires can�t cross it until the spell is broken. He�s a prisoner.�

Buffy pointed the blunt end of her stake accusingly at Spike. �Are you still chipped?�

�Yes,� Spike said, and it came out sounding like a sob.

There was a shout from down the hall. �Buffy! Get down here! These have weapons!�

�I�ll be back,� Buffy told Spike, then she left him, followed by Angel, who gave Spike a measured look as he went.

Spike dropped his head into his hands, suddenly sick with relief, and let his body draw in hitching breaths.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike shifted from foot to foot in his tiny prison, stealing glances at the others in the room. Most of them he knew: Buffy, the two witches, the boy and his demon girlfriend. Angel, of course, and his chit of a secretary. Then there was the second slayer, Faith, who he knew by reputation, and two of his Sire�s employees, a skinny Brit and a young black guy.

To the side, the Brit and the red-headed witch were discussing how best to break the binding spell, while front and center the slayers, the boy, and the former Scourge of Europe argued over what was to be done with him.

So far, the vote was one for immediate staking (Xander), one for �aggressive questioning� (Buffy), and Angel surprisingly on the side of �let�s just release him and all get out of here.� Faith, notably, had abstained.

�Well, it�s certainly worth a try,� Wesley was saying, then he and Willow approached Spike.

�Please come out, Spike,� Willow said. �We invite you.�

That was just stupid enough to work, Spike thought, as he put out one hand, then the other, then stepped across the circle of sand. Then he fell bonelessly to the floor, out cold.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He came to slung over his Sire�s shoulder like a sack of apples, being carried down the hall. �I�m awake,� he announced. �Put me down.�

Angel came to a stop and gently set Spike onto his feet. The younger vampire looked at the piles of dust, drifted against the baseboards like snow, and shuddered. Angel nodded sympathetically.

Spike licked his lips and swallowed hard. �The Slayer and the rest..?�

�Recon,� Angel said. �Cleaning up. Getting out anyone with a pulse.�

�Did Jagger..?� Spike started, then began again. �The necromancer. Did you get him?�

�Did I personally get him?�

�Well, you know, is he..?�

�He�s dead,� Angel said. �And� I personally got him.�

Spike was impressed. �You..?�

�Well, he pissed me off,� Angel explained. �Damned sorcerer.� He looked around the dusty hallway and sighed sadly. �Come on,� he said. �Let�s get out of here.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel was halfway down the sidewalk to where the rest were waiting beside their cars when he realized Spike was no longer beside him. He turned back to see the blond vampire reaching gingerly through the doorway. Angel went back and put a hand on his arm. �It�s okay,� he said. �You can come out.�

Spike cringed away the glaring streetlight. �It�s just been so long,� he said softly.

Angel�s brow furrowed in concern. �How long?�

Spike turned back to the shadows. �Two years,� he said, and Angel gave a start of surprise.

�Then you weren�t running your own operations..?�

Spike gave a slightly hysterical laugh. �Is that what you thought?�

Angel nodded. �When we found you, Buffy and I figured Jagger had just taken over some project you had going.� He shook his head. �Two years? Really?�

Spike nodded in assent, and Angel touched a lock of the younger vampire�s hair, now returned to its natural mousy-blond. �I should have known,� Angel said. �It seems obvious now that you�ve told me.�

�It was horrible,� Spike confessed, his voice hushed. �I couldn�t fight them, and I� I was their thing��

�But you�re free now,� Angel said.

�Free for someone to kill,� Spike replied, looking past Angel to the humans waiting for them. The older vampire turned to look, too.

�I won�t let them hurt you,� he said. �I�ll make them understand what happened.�

And still looking like he wanted to run into the House of the Dragon and never come out, Spike allowed Angel to take him to his car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

�I think that may be the first time that desk clerk�s had a request for a northern exposure,� Angel said, dropping his duffel bag on the hotel room floor. Spike stood just inside the doorway, his arms wrapped around himself. He was silent, in fact had not spoken since they�d left San Francisco. He reminded Angel too much of the stray dogs that fed on garbage and ran from human voices.

�Which one do you want?� Angel asked, gesturing at the two beds. Spike stared at them, blinking in dull confusion, and Angel realized the younger vampire had been taking orders for so long, he could no longer motivate himself.

�Never mind,� Angel said. �They�re both the same.� And he guided Spike to the nearest one and urged him down onto his back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike sat stiffly on an office chair in the corner of the Hyperion lobby while Buffy, Angel, and their respective camps discussed the problem of what should be done with him. He was trying to ignore the increasingly insistent voice that wanted to ask them to stake him and be done with it.

�It�s another trick,� Buffy was saying. �He wants us to feel sorry for him and let him go.�

�Buffy,� Angel said patiently, �can�t you tell there�s something wrong?�

�Frankly, no,� Buffy snapped. �I don�t much care about most vampires� mental health.�

�Can we not dwell on the vampire thing��

Spike noticed someone standing at his elbow and looked up to see the other Slayer, Faith, smiling gently down at him. �This could take awhile,� she said. �Want to join me for a walk?�

Spike turned to stare at the hotel�s front door and shivered. �I�d better not,� he said.

�How about just into the courtyard,� Faith said, nodding in the other direction to an enclosed patio with a few metal chairs.

�Okay,� Spike agreed.

They exited into the courtyard, and the hotel walls rose on all four sides, framing the night sky above them. It was an odd orange color from the reflected light of the city. Faith extracted a packet of cigarettes from her jacket pocket, tapped one out and put it between her lips. She extended the pack to Spike. �Want one?�

He reached out and took one, his fingers trembling slightly. Faith struck her Zippo, lighting her own, then cupping the flame with one hand for Spike. The vampire inhaled deeply, and his nerves steadied.

�I haven�t had one of these in�� he calculated mentally ��over twenty months.�

�They�re disgusting,� Faith told him, �but I picked up the habit in the stir.� She shrugged. �What are you gonna do?�

Spike was surprised. �You were in prison?�

Faith nodded. �Twenty-seven months.�

�What kind of prison could hold a Slayer?� Spike asked. �They must have had you under armed surveillance.�

Faith took a long drag. �Nope. Turned myself in, stayed in voluntarily.�

�Damn. You good guys are bleeding insane.�

Faith grinned. �Redemption is a rocky path,� she said, and laughed. Spike joined her.

�My point being,� she went on after a moment, �I know what you�re going through. I still look around for a matron every time I need to pee. It took me months to be able to cross an open plaza. I�m sure what happened to you was even worse.�

Spike nodded, almost imperceptibly, in unconscious agreement, and Faith took hold of his hand.

�But it does get better,� she assured him. �Don�t let it beat you.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When they returned to the lobby sometime later, an agreement seemed to have been reached.

�You�re staying with me,� Angel informed Spike.

Spike turned to Buffy and stared just long enough for her to begin to draw her brows together in an annoyed glare, then turned back to Angel.

�What�s going to happen to me?� he asked.

Angel crossed his arms and shook his head. �I don�t know,� he said. �But I can keep you safe here.�

Spike lowered his eyes and nodded.

�Faith, why don�t you help him find a room,� Angel asked.

�Let�s go,� the brunette Slayer said, leading Spike up the stairs.

�This is fine,� he murmured at the first room she showed him.

�You sure?� Faith said, looking around the room doubtfully. �It�s pretty small. You pull out that trundle and you won�t be able to get the door open.�

Spike stepped into the room. �I don�t need much,� he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Three Months Later]

Angel looked out into the courtyard of the Hyperion where Spike and Faith were taking a cigarette break and laughing at some shared joke. Not far away, Cordelia and Fred were gossiping about clients as they wrote up invoices, and below Wesley and Gunn were doing some weapon sparring to try out new techniques.

Quite the collection, Angel thought idly, each damaged in his or her own way.

Spike still flinched at loud noises, though he hated himself for it, and avoided crowds and open spaces. He had episodes of insomnia that lasted days, and Angel suspected that the sleep he got was plagued with nightmares. And most out of character, he refused to drink human blood; even when Angel could get it, the scent seemed to make his stomach churn.

He spoke of his ordeal at the House of the Dragon only a sentence at a time, the comments dropped at intervals days apart, and each made Angel cold with horror.

Somehow, Spike had become friends with Faith. They fought side by side, and enjoyed the same films and music and food. They even joined together to tease Angel, and the older vampire only pretended to be annoyed. It actually pleased him to be able to see them both begin to trust again.

Faith made sure Spike fed when he forgot, and he let her rage at him when her frustration and anger welled up. They helped each other through the nightmares.

The rest of them just assumed the two were intimate, but Angel wasn�t so sure. Both were in pain, but both knew physical love was a distraction, not a cure. It would happen, no doubt, but they would move slowly, and perhaps that was best.

Faith and Spike entered from the courtyard, and the dark-haired Slayer jumped up to sit on the counter where Angel was working. Spike leaned on his forearms beside her and both looked over at Angel.

�Anything we can help with?� Faith asked.

�Know anything about brick re-pointing?� Angel said.

�Nope,� Faith said.

�Nope,� Spike concurred.

�Then nope,� Angel told them. �But thanks for the offer.�

�Anytime, big guy,� Faith said, smiling, and Angel gave her a warm smile back.

Just then the phone rang, and Spike jerked away, his eyes snapping shut.

�I�ve got it,� Cordelia shouted from the other office, and wordlessly Faith guided Spike�s head onto her lap. The vampire wound his arms around her waist, and she ran her lacquered fingernails through his fine, wheat-colored hair.

�Shh. Easy, baby,� she said, so softly only a vampire could hear her. �I�ve got you.�

Well, maybe not so slowly after all, Angel thought. And maybe that was for the best, too.

Fin

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