Title: A Tale Of Pensive Hearts: Part Two

Author: JINXwatcher

Feedback: Constructive comments always welcome: [email protected]

Pairing: Spike/Angel, Spike/Penn, Angel/Spike/Penn, mention of past instances of Spike/Dru and William/Angelus, Angelus/Penn, Darla/Angelus, and Angelus/Dru

Rating: R to a possible romantic NC-17’ish

Spoilers: Some scattered among Buffy Season four and one reference to Angel’s fifth season but then it goes AU, additionally the events of Angel Season One's Somnambulist Episode happened but instead of Penn being killed it’s Lawson (The vampire he sired in Why we fight, an episode from season five) who is dusted and Penn doesn’t appear at all until this story. His canon history has been changed to fit the circumstances of this story. Season Five of Angel does not take place in this story.

Warnings: Character deaths in this one, sorry! Adult language, situations, & Content, slash, violence, all that sort of stuff. Warning some Scooby bashing road signs ahead….

Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained by their owner and accredited license holders.

Writer’s Notes: This story takes place in an AU setting so some details have been changed to ensure continuity in the story so forgive me if it deviates too far from canon; I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. Please excuse any minor discrepancies or artist license. As always thanks are going out to GF, Myst, Betsy, Sweet, Luba, Mandie, and Mera my most excellent group of Beta/Editors.

Writer’s Credits: The songs ‘Girl you’ll be a woman soon’ by Neil Diamond and ‘Black Velvet’ by Alannah Myles and excerpts from ‘I never saw blue like that before’ by Shawn Colvin are used.

Writer Websites: JINXI’s Website: Shadows In A Mirror: Her Archive: FEVER DREAMS                                      

                              JINXI’s LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/jinxwatcher

                              The Crypt: http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/crypt.htm#buffywatcher

Distribution: If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.

Distribution: If I’ve already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.

Summary: In the wake of Spike’s treatment at the hands of the Initiative and Buffy, Angel faces an unexpected challenge for the leadership of the Aurelius Order… and for Spike’s affections.

 

Chapter Seven

 

 They are gathered at the top of the landing outside the auditorium waiting for Dawn before they depart for the restaurant hosting the reception dinner. Every attempt to try and approach Spike and Tara has been headed off by the cursedly efficient honour guard that’s accompanied them. Only Anya, Xander, and Giles seemingly permitted to gain entry through the tightly controlled de-militarized zone that safely harbours Penn, Spike, and Tara at its center. The rest of them are being watched at the outskirts of the group and while the Vampires, Ravali, and Jacob are polite, it’s clear that they don’t trust them and they’re going to remain very protective and aloof.

 

“Ravali… how is he really?” Angel asks quietly.

 

Ravali tilts her head and regards him solemnly for several moments before she looks over her shoulder at her companions and says something in a language he doesn’t recognize. The purring cadence and lilting sing-song quality of the language is lovely however and he suspects that it’s Ravali’s native Rakshasa dialect. Spike answers back in the same language his soft husky voice is a beautiful sound to many ears. It’s obvious that he’s fairly fluent in whichever language they’re speaking as he doesn’t hesitate or trip over the words as he replies. Penn and surprisingly Tara also comment in the same language with little difficulty which raises several eyebrows.

 

Ravali turns back to face them and answers the question. “Most of the damage caused by the malnutrition has finally healed. The steady diet of Sire’s blood and a proper diet have helped in that regard. The damage caused by the Slayer was fairly extensive but he fortunately bears only the two scars.” Ravali strokes her brow. “The mark of honour he bears on his brow from the first Slayer he defeated and the other.” Her voice trails off and she looks upset and Jacob quickly throws his arms around her to comfort her.

 

“That bastard Finn marked him didn’t he?” Angel states, making a growling sound deep in his throat that Buffy echoes.

 

“Yes he bears a scar from that cowardly attack but he hasn’t let it change him and he found a way to make it into a badge of honour.” Jacob says proudly but enigmatically as he doesn’t explain any further.

 

“What did happen to Riley?” Buffy finally finds the strength of will to ask.

 

“What happened to Mr. Finn was nothing short of poetic justice.” Ravali says with a chillingly cold smile. “Our investigation into his background turned up some surprising information that we put to good use.” Ravali says enigmatically, smiling at Tara as she approaches, flaked by the ever-protective Ian and Grady, with Lilia on his arm. Jacob takes her hand as they join the cadre around Tara, their eyes carefully tracking Willow’s movements in particular.

 

“Riley’s fate was left to the Initiative.” Tara says coolly. “Penn had him turned by a minion and arranged for him to be ‘found’ by his employers. Perhaps he’ll manage to convince them that he’s worthy of mercy but I rather think it will be a foregone conclusion that he’ll be subjected to the same treatment he once merited out to the other Vampires he helped to capture. I hope he dies quickly. It will be the only mercy he’ll know at their hands I’m sure.” Tara says coolly, a hard glint in her eyes.

 

“Tara, how can you be so cold about what they did? How can you condone it?” Willow cries shocked by her seeming unconcern over Riley’s fate.

 

“Would you cry for Hitler if he met his fate in a concentration camp?” Ravali’s voice drips ice. “Your Mr. Finn only proves the adage that a soul doesn’t stop someone from being evil or a monster. Tell me dark witch, what justice would you consider as fitting for a man that consigned hundreds of Demons to slow, agonizing deaths. And they were the lucky ones, the fate of those chosen to live were hundreds and thousands of times worse. Live dissections, brothels, slavery, we’ve found proof that Initiative consigned their ‘Hostiles’ to all those fates and more. What punishment is severe enough for a Human that allows his wife to be subjected to the vilest of breeding experiments when they needed Host-Mothers for their vile attempts to create a species they could control? Maybe you would like to see the result of those experiments for yourself? We rescued the infant and what was left of his wife.”

 

“What do you mean, what was left of her?” Buffy asks sniffing, as she uses her fingertips to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

 

“How can you stand by and let them turn Riley into a Demon?” Willow demands.

 

Tara shivers as the chill night wind picks up. She smiles as she feels the press of a familiar body stepping up behind her. She sighs as arms curve around her from behind, tenderly gathering her shawl around her more closely and pulling her back against a strong body. 

 

“Watch your tone when you speak to her.” Erick’s eyes flash with a dangerous glint. “Tara isn’t responsible for the evil men do.” Erick crosses his arms over her collarbone, holding and comforting her. His mouth quirks up at the corner as he feels her muscles strengthening as she stands up tall, taking comfort from his nearness. “Save your sharp tongue for explaining to your friends about who Rack is and why you stink of black magic.” He suggests with chilly disdain.

 

Tara leans back against Erick and lets him gently guiding her into turning around as his arm slips around her shoulders. He leads her back to Spike and Penn, who open their arms and cuddle her between them as Erick stands protectively behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.

 

“What’s going on with them?” Willow demands, looking a little flushed and a little nervous, hoping that no one was paying attention to the comment about Rack.

 

“What was he talking about Willow? What have you been doing while I was in England?” Giles asks quietly his eyes narrowing as Willow drops her eyes and looks away. “I’m well aware of who Rack is and what he peddles in. What have you been doing cavorting with the likes of that lowlife? Ethan Rayne is more trustworthy and we all know how trustworthy he is.”

 

“Are you so blind that you can’t see her for what she is Watcher? She stinks of dark magic and excess. She’s addicted to magic and Rack’s been feeding her habit and using her as a conduit to deed his own sick perversions; the other foolish blond that fancies herself a witch as well. They are corrupted.” Jacob says with a flinch of distaste and a shudder of revulsion.

 

“Rack has met with an unfortunate accident however so there will be no more fixes. It’s too late for this one and the other though, the taint clings to them even now. You would be well served to take her magic now while she is controllable.” Jacob advises him as the motor home and the limo return. He wraps an arm around Ravali and guides her towards the motor home.

 

Willow quakes under Giles steel-eyes regard and dropping her face and stares at her shoes. “As this is Dawn’s night I’m going to refrain from yelling at you.” Willow brightens at the prospect. “Right now at least.” Her expression falls again as her hopes of getting off easy are all too easily dashed. “We will be discussing this matter at length and I expect to hear some very good reasons that I shouldn’t have your powers bound as Mr. Chenault suggested.”

 

Bored and eager to get to the reception and the dancing Anya takes Giles and Xander’s hand and starts pulling them towards the limo. “Let’s go, Spike said that we could ride with them to the reception.” She chirps excitedly. “I wonder how much money they have. It must be a lot, don’t you…?” Her voice turns into a distant mumble as she all but pushes the pair of bemused men into the limo before climbing in behind them.

 

Buffy and Angel watch as Spike, holding a very bubbly Dawn’s hand, is escorted to the limo by a very conscientious Penn and a smiling Tara. The presence of the other Vampires as real a barrier as any wall and within seconds Dawn, Spike, Tara, Penn, and the Twins are enclosed safely inside the limo. One of the other male Vampires gets into the front passenger seat beside the driver as the other one stops to herd Ravali, Jacob, the two women, and himself; all of them carrying the beautifully wrapped gifts brought for Dawn; into the motor home.

 

Within moments the vehicles move off smoothly. Angel hurriedly gathers his coat around him as he sweeps down the stairs towards their parked car, his friends hurrying to catch up as Willow hails a cab. She gives the cabby the address as she guides Buffy into the back seat before joining her and Angel and friends still manage to beat them out of the still burgeoning parking lot, despite having to walk farther to reach their car.

 

Buffy sits back, staring out the window at the passing night shrouded streets but what she’s seeing lies inside her mind and isn’t anything reflected back at her from reality. It’s not the light of the stars peeking at her through the passing winter clouds; it is a glittering reminder for every mistake she’s made in her life.

 

There the twinkling reminder of letting her parents convince her that getting so involved with Pike was a bad idea and agreeing albeit reluctantly with her Mother’s plans to move to Sunnydale. She hesitates for a moment as she suddenly realizes the similarities between Pike and Spike. It’s more then in their names.

 

There another too bright reminder of her mistake in getting involved with Angel and ignoring boys her own age that she could have been happy with. Next to it the sickly dim star that marks the explosion of Angelus into her life and beside that smaller clusters of stars all bearing some tortured Angel memory attached to them. A sky full of twinkling mistakes there for the entire world to see. Hurting Xander, Parker, Riley, mistake upon mistake, they’re all there.

 

She stops to think for a moment about Riley and his fate. She knows how easily it could have been her instead of Samantha Finn that was used as an unwitting science experiment. She finds it very hard to blame Spike or his friends for seeking justice and justice it is. Riley will meet the same treatment that Spike did at the Initiative’s hands. She knows that Spike has protected her to an extent from the full knowledge of what he went through at their hands. Maybe Riley’s fate will be a kinder one… maybe.

 

Her eyes find a bright cluster of stars sitting side by side, two a little smaller and all but swallowed up by the largest as they sit slightly to the side and back a bit. The larger star is more showy and prominent in the night sky. It’s like Angel and his bright shiny destiny as champion for the Powers That Be, all shiny and bright. Her eyes find the smaller star almost hidden by the bright aura of the first one. It’s small but perfectly formed, shining brightly despite being half in the shadow of the other. A tiny star is nestled safely in the light aura of the second star almost as though it were protecting it. It reminds her so much of the unusual relationship between Spike and her little sister.

 

She knows that everyone believes that it was his love for her that truly rules over Spike but she knows the truth of it. It’s Dawn’s love that truly tamed the beast that is Spike’s Demon. The transformation from enemy to… friend… may have begun with her but it reached its fruition in the selfless love and affection he harbours for Tara and Dawn. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly unable to bear the sight of all her mistakes looking back at her.

 

“What am I going to do Willow?” A tear forces its way free from her clenched eyes. “Dawn’s going to leave and I’ll never see him again, I know it. Dawn hates me for what I did and I’ll never be able to make it up to any of them if they leave.”

 

“Talk to Dawnie, Buffy. If you can convince her to give you another chance then Spike will have to as well or risk upsetting her and I don’t think that he will. It’s obvious that he’s avoided that til now if he has all these resources and everything and he hasn’t done anything to us before now. He’s had the opportunity and he could have tried to turn Dawn against you but he doesn’t appear to have even tried to do that. That creepy one giving Angel the evil eye was probably telling the truth about Dawn being the reason Spike hasn’t done anything to hurt us.”

 

“I think Spike came to actually… like us. I don’t think that Dawn or Tara is the only reason he hasn’t tried to make us pay for how he was treated when he only wanted to help us.” Buffy says quietly. “I think I owe him a real apology and I really need to patch things up with Dawn if I want to stay in her life and have her be part of mine. I don’t think that will happen though until Spike… and Tara… forgive me for what I did. I’ve been a horrible friend to them. They all tried to help me and just threw their help back in their faces. I have a lot to make up for.”

 

“I can’t believe Tara left with Spike and she’s been with him the whole time.” Willow’s tone is dark and angry but underneath that the hurt can clearly be heard. “She betrayed me, us.”

 

“No, Willow she didn’t betray us. We both know why she left and she may have chosen to go with Spike but he’s not the reason she wanted to leave. They made sure we couldn’t track them; they disappeared because they wanted to, and don’t you get that? They hid from us deliberately.” Buffy snaps. “You have Amy so don’t get mad because Tara moved on too. You don’t have the right to be angry any more then I do. Spike’s… moved on too.”

 

“Yes I noticed him making with the moving on. Did you have any idea that he was gay?” Willow asks as she glances at her.

 

“I know that his relationship to Angelus was a lot more complicated then Angel or Spike was willing to talk about. When I got involved with Angel, Giles gave me a lecture about Vampires and how they’re ‘different’. It was horrible, it lasted about three hours and I thought I was going to slip into a bored coma.” Buffy snickers and Willow giggles. “It was kind of cute, he kept stuttering and I think he was about to resort to diagrams. I’m lucky I had to patrol or he’d probably have lectured me until morning. He told me that the Watchers always suspected that Angelus and William the Bloody were… close. I’ve always wondered if that’s not why they hate each other so much now.”

 

“So wow Spike was all Juliet to Angelus’ Romeo huh? That’s just… kind of wow… and hot.” Willow giggles again.

 

“Yeah, I can totally see them oil wrestling.” Buffy says with a dreamy smile.

 

Willow sighs with the same dreamy expression but then she snaps out of it as something occurs to her. “I wonder….” She glances over at Buffy. “Do you think that Angel has ever been attracted to Spike? I mean if Angelus was then wouldn’t Angel have been too?”

 

“If you had noticed the way he kept staring at Spike and that other Vampire guy, you probably wouldn’t have to ask me that.” Buffy replies flatly. “Angel may not realize it but I think there’s a reason that he’s never tried very hard to get rid of Spike for good.”

 

“How can you be so sure of that?” Willow asks surprised by Buffy’s unusual insight.

 

“Because I didn’t realize that there was a reason that I couldn’t kill Spike until I thought I had.” Buffy admits quietly. “I’ve spent the last two years thinking I’d left him to die in that alley and that he had when he didn’t come back. Who could I talk to about it? Dawn? She hated me enough when she thought I’d just driven him away. I hate to think what she’d have done if I had killed him for good. You… you were still upset over Tara and let’s face it we weren’t talking for a long time; just yelling. Xander would have celebrated I think. Anya would have told everyone and that’s after she did her best to make my life hell for what I did. Tara was gone; Giles was in London and Angel… well I don’t know what Angel would have done.”

 

“He wouldn’t have blamed you would he? I mean he’s tried to kill Spike too.” Willow tries to comfort Buffy not realizing how cold her words actually sound.

 

“He never tried that hard, neither of us did.” Buffy says looking down and sighing. “Angel chose to leave me; his destiny was more important then I was. Riley was just a Band-Aid to cover the open wound he left behind… and Spike….” Buffy glances at the limo driving some distance ahead of them. She knows that Spike will be sitting beside the other elegant Vampire, probably holding hands or with an arm around his shoulder as he snuggles at his side and a single tear rips its way from the corner of her eye. “Spike was mine, the only one that didn’t leave me until I hurt him too badly for him to stay. I don’t blame him for wanting to live. Well you know what I mean. If he’d stayed, I’d have gotten him killed… one way or another.” She tilts her head until her hair brushes her cheek wiping the tear away.

 

“If you love him Buffy then fight for him.” Willow implores her. “If Spike stays in Sunnydale….” Her voice trails off anxiously and she looks away embarrassed. She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Buffy to know that she would have added that if Spike stayed so would Tara.

 

“It’s because I love him that I’m going to do what’s best for him and not interfere in what he has now. They looked happy Willow. When was the last time you’ve ever seen them so content? We had our chance to make them ours and we threw it away. They’ve made a new family.”

 

“Maybe Spike has but Tara is human and she belongs with us not them.” Willow denies hotly. “If I can just get her to talk to me without all the interference, I know that I could convince her to stay.”

 

“You know that Tara is learning from that magic guy and Giles seemed to be really impressed by that and so did you and Amy…. Hey where is Amy, Willow?”

 

Willow looks startled and then ashamed that she didn’t even notice Amy’s absence and she shrugs uncomfortably as the taxi pulls to a stop behind a line of vehicles waiting their chance to drive up the large scenic lane of the Sunnydale country club. The limo pulls up at the base of the entrance staircase and what seems to be a swarm of valets and attendants converge to open the rear door and assist the occupants out. A pack of neatly garbed valets and parking attendants start to work the line of vehicles and within moments a fresh faced young man is opening the door of their taxi with a flourish. They join the sea of foot traffic and their soon standing with Angel and his friends, a few feet from the group the limo delivered, who are currently being fawned over by a straight-laced looking man in a n expensive suit.

 

Angel moves closer, curious about what’s going on and that’s all the impetus the rest of them need to get them drawing in closer too. Buffy notes with a wry grin however that everyone stops behind Angel rather then trying to get any closer.

 

“I’d like to welcome you, Signore honoured di Aurelius e padrone di Sunnydale, on behalf of the Sunnydale Country Club. The owners would like to extend to you a most gracious welcome and free reign of our facilities while you are gracing us with your presence Sirs and Madams. I am the Night Manager, Mr. Abrahams.” The well-dressed man twitters looking a little star-struck and perhaps a little frightened. “Your retainers have been shown to the private kitchen as you requested and will attend to your food and drink personally as you requested. We’ve set aside the garden-side atrium for your party, I think you’ll find it very satisfactory for your party’s needs and it opens to the main ballroom so the guest of honour will still be close to her classmates. The guests that you’re expecting have arrived and await you in the atrium. Your security requirements have been met as well and I have personally made sure that all mirrors and other accoutrements have been removed or concealed. If you would please follow me, it would be an honour for me to escort you personally.” The man gestures towards the steps in silent inquiry as to whether or not he should precede them.

 

Penn nods graciously and the man darts up the steps at a slow but anxious pace. Wrapping his arm around William’s shoulders and pulling him against his side, Penn holds out his elbow for Tara and the trio start up the steps after the hovering manager, with Dawn and the others close at their heels, guided by the formidable twin presence of Aaron and Erick Logan.

 

“What did those words he said mean?” Fred asks shyly, peeking around Angel to watch the elegant procession walking up the steps. “What language was that?”

 

“I believe it was Italian.” Wesley says uncertainly looking at Giles who only shrugs and starts up the steps.

 

“Contrary to popular opinion I do not speak every language known to man.” Giles amused voice drifts back to them.

 

Anya chuckles and pulls Xander after her as she trots to catch up to Giles.

 

“It is Italian.” Angel says distractedly as he starts up the steps as well, the others following in his wake. “The main Chantry of the Aurelius Order was originally located in Venice. It is tradition to greet and welcome a Master of an Order in the language of the origin place of their major Chantry.” Angel informs them. “What he said was ‘Signore honoured di Aurelius e padrone di Sunnydale’ and what that means is ‘Honoured Lord of Aurelius and the Master of Sunnydale’. Penn must be the new Master here.” Angel states, sounding somewhat surprised.

 

“Why is that so shocking? That she-vamp told us that Dawn was the reason Buffy and the others were safe, wouldn’t he have to claim them of sorts to extend his protection?” Wesley asks adjusting his glasses and looking interested in the topic.

 

“You heard what my Grand-childe… the other one, Lawson’s Childe, said. Penn won’t stand to have Spike or Tara for that matter in this town for one minute longer then necessary. If the Aurelius Order had established a Chantry in a neighbouring town we’d have likely heard about it before now. Since I suspect that Dawn is going to New Orleans for more then just college we’ll have to assume that is where Penn has chosen make their home.”

 

Wesley catches on to what’s bothering Angel. “So how can Penn and the Order maintain control over a Hellmouth without actually being here? That’s a very good question and one we need to answer.”

 

“Penn must have a Lieutenant here that he can trust to maintain control over the majority of the Vampires living here. They’d have to be strong, a Master, and at least a century and a half old, maybe older.” Angel muses. “One of the twins could do it but something tells me that Penn keeps them close at hand and none of the others seemed quite strong enough to hold a Hellmouth on their own.”

 

“If there were a true Master that would explain why things have been so quiet on the Vampire front here wouldn’t it? I mean Buffy hasn’t really fought anyone stronger then minions and fledglings in ages.”

 

“It’s highly possible Willow. A Master would keep their Childer and strongest minions close and send out the weaker ones as foot soldiers. They could even be letting you do the job of controlling the population for them by knocking off any Vampires that aren’t of their bloodline.” Angel replies.

 

“I would know if there was another Master Vampire in Sunnydale Angel.” Buffy states dismissingly, with sweeping motion of her hand.

 

“You’ve never met a true Master Vampire.” Angel returns her dismissive tone. “The Master was ancient that’s true but he was also weak from being trapped for so long. And I… well Angelus was insane and Spike was hampered by having not only his Sire but his Grand-sire reining him in. If you had ever met either Angelus or Spike when they were… unencumbered you wouldn’t be standing here now. You’re alive because for one reason or another we never wanted you to be anything else.”

 

“Yes, well, that’s something to think about but it doesn’t really give us any clues to how the Order is maintaining control over a Hellmouth without actually being here.” Wesley says hurriedly, hoping to distract Buffy and Angel before a full blown argument breaks out.

 

“The manager said that there were ‘guests’ waiting for them so maybe we’ll find our answer there or at some point in the evening. If there are high ranking members of the Order in Sunnydale than protocol will present themselves to Penn and the Elders of the Order.” Angel replies.

 

“Why didn’t the manager greet the others, just, Penn is his name?” Fred asks. “I mean it’s obvious that they’re all very important so you think he would have welcomed them all.” She rambles charmingly. “I mean he wouldn’t have wanted to offend anyone and everything?”

 

“Penn is the Aurelius Order so greeting him in the proper manner is like greeting them all individually in a formal situation. He will speak directly to the others only once Penn gives his permission by introducing them which usually requires him to state their name, rank within the Order, and where applicable their position. Spike, Tara, and Dawn are exceptions.”

 

“How are they exceptions?” Wesley asks, frankly fascinated by all the facts of Vampiric life and customs that he’d been ignorant of previously.

 

“Tara is the Lady Witch of the Order and that is a position of very high esteem, as you may have noticed. That position affords her certain protections as does the acknowledgement of her standing with Penn and Spike. No one outside the Order will address her directly until she gives her leave for them to do so. She is the acknowledged Lady of the Aurelius Order. That rank is astonishing as it’s usually reserved for the Eldest Female Master of an Order. By gifting it to Tara, Penn has elevated her to a position just behind that which he and Spike occupy.” Angel explains.

 

“What about Dawn?” Buffy asks.

 

“Dawn is a protectorate of the Order and of Penn, Spike, and Tara in particular I imagine. She is a Princess in a very true sense of the word.” Angel smiles gently. “She will want for nothing in her life, Buffy. Any Demon that tries to hurt or use her will face the wrath of one of the most powerful and ancient of the Vampiric Orders. Penn is a very dangerous opponent on his own but with Spike at his side and the sheer power they possess individually and at their command, it would be suicidal to mess with Dawn.”

 

“Spike did that for Dawn?” Willow asks surprised. “Why would he do that? H obviously had nothing to gain by it since… well….” Willow glances at Buffy and flushes and looks away hurriedly.

 

“Spike loves Dawn that’s why he did it and that’s why he’s gone against every demonic instinct he has and let you live despite the wrongs done against him.” Angel replies with implacable detachment. “You’re alive because Spike cares how Dawn feels and your deaths would make her unhappy. You’re alive because Spike is who he is. Do you really think that a bit of wire and plastic could have made him do any of the things he’s done? You have no conception of what could have happened to you if Spike wasn’t the Vampire that he is. He could have put out a contract, manipulated other Demons, done any of a dozen things that would have removed you as effectively as if he’d killed you himself. If you ever had any doubt of that, look around you now. WHATEVER Spike wants, Penn will make it happen, including your deaths.” Angel looks over his shoulder at Willow and she shivers at the cold look in his eyes.

 

“What makes Spike so important anyway?” Willow mutters under her breath angrily.

 

“Penn loves him.” Angel replies flatly. “Penn has always loved him, from the moment he met him William has been the center of his life. He’s been looking for him for over a century and now he has his heart’s desire and the world will burn to ash and Humanity’s bones will bake before he lets him go. He has taken Spike as his Childe and as his Consort. Spike sits at the right hand of one of the most powerful Vampires ever sired as the head of one of the oldest Orders. I suggest that you stop wondering why Spike is the way he is and does the things he does and just be thankful that what it is merely is. I don’t know why William has always been so different but he’s affecting positive changes in Penn and the Order and that can only work out for us. If you can’t see that these Vampires are different and treat them accordingly then leave now Willow. If you push them, they’re going to push back and you won’t win and I won’t help you when your actions cause you harm because of your own foolishness.”

 

Everyone looks at Angel’s back in varying degrees of shock at his coolly voiced warning but no one breaks the silence until Wesley tries to distract them again.

 

“So you said Spike is an exception as well? Is it because he is a consort?” Wesley asks huskily after clearing his throat quietly several times.

 

“It’s because he is THE Consort. No one may address him directly until he and Penn have given their permission and then only using an honorific form, Master or Milord are the accepted forms. Penn is addressed in a similar manner. Under no circumstances use a familiar form of address for Penn or Spike unless they have given you permission to do so specifically. It is an unpardonable break in protocol and their attendants will no react kindly to it.” Angel instructs them all. “I’d suggest that all of you do your best to make a good impression and if possible get on their good side. They can be powerful allies to their friends and death to their foes. Decide which one you want to be.” Angel picks up the pace and sweeps through the doors as the attendants manning the large doors scramble to open them in time.

 

The others all scramble to follow after him not liking the vulnerability of being left to walk in alone to face the formidable Vampires that have somehow infiltrated all of their lives on their own.

 

Chapter Eight

 

They’re all shown to the long rectangular table that has been set up in the lovely marble tiled atrium that overlooks the garden. Penn and companions are already seated as sombrely garbed attendants consult Ravali before escorting them to their seats.

 

Angel is fairly surprised to find that he’s been placed to the right of Dawn near the head of the table on the left side. He’d rather expected to be segregated with the humans and as far away from Penn and Spike as possible. Instead he’s only separated from the pair at the head of the table by one of the Twin Vampires and Dawn. The other twin takes the seat next to him and Ravali and Jacob across from him and he almost smiles as he sees that he’s been neatly hemmed in. Bracketing as he is by the Twins and under the watchful gaze of Ravali and her Mate, he has been given a place of honour yet they have cleverly managed to isolate him from Penn and Spike at the same time.

 

He watches as Ravali quietly directs the seating arrangements from her seat, curious to see how the others are placed. He’s not surprised to see that Giles and Wesley are seated side by side on his side of table and next to the twin on his left. Xander and Anya are sitting across the table from Giles and Wesley. They’re sitting to the left of Jacob, who is seated next to Ravali, who is next to Tara who is sitting at Penn’s right hand.

 

Lawson’s Mate takes a seat next to Wes, as Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn are escorted to the chairs next lined up to the left of Xander. Buffy is seated on the left side of the table next to the Vampiress and Willow is seated in the chair directly across from her on the other side of the table. Lilia Logan and her Vampire escort are seated next to Willow and the dark haired Vampire, Ian, sits next to Buffy. The two chairs at the other end of the table are currently empty. But they don’t remain that way for long.

 

The first indication that something momentous is about to happen is when Penn and Spike stand with smiles that can only be called affection on their faces. They move around the head of the table and meet the elegant pair just entering the atrium. The older gentleman is very well dressed in a neatly pressed evening style black suit. A jewel-toned dark amethyst shirt sets off his salt and pepper hair. His companion is a lovely sight in a sleeveless little red knit dress with a zip front and Polo-style collar and a black and red leather belt that’s interspersed with golden chain links. Her dark hair is coiled neatly with soft tendrils that frame her face. Two attendants appear silently to accept the woman’s evening wrap and the man’s overcoat and no one sitting can get a clear look at the pair but from the solicitous behaviour of the attendants it’s clear that they’re important.

 

The sea of attendants parts as Penn and Spike approach. The pair is finally revealed and all of them jump to their feet in shock as Spike opens his arms to the bundle of energy that is Faith Lehane. Penn reaches out to clasp the shoulder of the man, reaching out to shake his hand.

 

“You’re as beautiful as ever Sweet Faith. Ethan must be taking excellent care of you.” Spike leans over to kiss Faith’s cheek, chuckling as she blows a kiss at Penn.

 

“Hey William, you’re looking terrific as usual.” Faith replies flitting from his arms to Penn’s as she claims another hug before accepting the hand that her older companion holds out. Their expressions are proud and amused as they take the two remaining chairs.

 

“I believe some of you are familiar with Faith Lehane, the current Slayer, and her partner Ethan Rayne. They attend to our…” Penn pauses for a moment before his mouth curves up in a smile. “…Interests here in Sunnydale.”

 

Ethan’s features ripple to reveal his vampiric features, revealing his strangely glowing red eyes, before rippling back to their human guise. He chuckles as he sees Giles drop back into his chair heavily, shocked by the reality of his transformation.

 

Penn escorts Wil back to their seats and one by one everyone sits back down and he waves the attendants forward. The manager attends to them personally as the others spread out around the table and hand everyone a menu and most immediately open them to peruse the menu. Wil sits quietly at Penn’s side, making no attempt to read the menu, stroking his fingertips over the back of Penn’s hand.

 

“We’ll have the Coconut Shrimp and the Onion Blossom to start with. For our entrée we’ll have the Prime rib, one pound cut, very, very rare, with the winter vegetable medley and the rice pilaf. We’ll have the red wine with our meal; the Chef knows which ‘selections’ we prefer. For dessert we’ll have the Chocolate Lava Cake. We’ll share the same plates so only one order of everything,” Penn orders after the briefest of glances at the menu. “We’ll be picking up the tab for everyone Mr. Abrahams.”

 

Angel stares as all of the Vampires and their companions echo the meal order Penn placed. After a few seconds pause he finds himself doing the same thing.

 

After all the orders have been taken the members of the staff quietly asks if anyone would like a drink to sip before dinner.

 

“Bring us some carafes of the ‘House Red’ and a bottle of Jack Daniels.” Penn orders before turning his attention to Wil. The orders taken the staff members withdraw silently and leave the party to converse quietly.

 

Dawn jumps up and hurries out to the main room where she’s mobbed by a group of her friends and impressed classmates; who keep shooting dark and covetous glances; at the private party.

 

Spike catches Grady’s attention with a fluttering of his hand and the younger Vampire nods and kissing Lilia on the cheek he melts out into the crowd. He’ll keep a quiet eye on Dawn unobtrusively from the crowd as the large ballroom fills with still arriving families trying to find their assigned tables.

 

“May I speak to Spike, Master Penn; Spike?” Anya asks politely, earning a pleased smile from Penn and another nod from Spike. “How are you?” She asks genuinely interested in the answer. Spike is one of the few people that she really believes is a friend of hers rather then just ones she inherited by being married to Xander and inheriting his friends.

 

“I am very well Anya.” Spike returns with a warm smile for the bold ex-demon. “I am very happy with my life as it is now and with my love.” He leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Penn’s jaw, smiling beneath Penn’s lips as he abruptly turns his head to catch his mouth in a brief but passionate kiss.

 

“How long have you been together?” Anya asks with a smile finding the vampires to make a very charming couple.

 

“Two years, seven months, sixteen days, and…” Penn glances at his watch. “…Eleven hours.” Penn says proudly, lifting his hand stroke Wil’s cheek. “We haven’t been apart since the night I finally found him again.” Penn turns his head and presses another soft kiss to William’s mouth before looking back at Anya. “I searched for over a century and I would have searched for a thousand more to find him. He is my destiny and he is the only heart I’ll ever need.”

 

“Oh that is so romantic!” Fred exclaims before clapping her hand over her mouth and looking embarrassed.

 

“It’s quite alright, we don’t expect Humans to know our customs or abide by them Miss Burkle.” Penn says graciously, his words only slightly accented by a sharp tone. “Please speak as you wish. All I request is that you not upset the celebration. We’re all here for Dawn so for this one night at least we will all get along; even if it kills you all to have to do it.” He warns subtly.

 

“How did you get out of prison Faith? Your sentence should have lasted another ten years.” Buffy asks suspiciously.

 

“I have friends in high places, B.” Faith replies with a bright grin before composing her features into a mask of civility. “Penn needed someone willing to work with Ethan to look after things here until Dawn left for college. I’m very well paid for my services and there are some fringe benefits that appeal to me.” Ethan glances at the busty brunette with a smile that could only be called lascivious.

 

“How did you get away from the Initiative, Ethan?” Giles asks in a voice so cool its frozen solid.

 

“He was at the facility where Mr. Finn was secured. There was little left of him then but they’d managed to capture another Aurelian that had sired him in Sunnydale before being dissected herself. Apparently in the resulting struggle, Ethan’s magic was unleashed and it caused a massive system failure that allowed Wil to escape. We owed a debt and we’ve paid it.” Penn explains. “Ethan, unwittingly or not, helped Wil to escape from that hellhole. Ravali nursed him back to health and we found out that something rather unusual happened when Ethan was turned. His magic somehow caused two Demons to manifest in the same body. Eyghon has fused with the Vampiric Demon and feeds them both. Ethan is a rather unusual Vampire in that he has many of our strengths but few of our weaknesses.” Penn replies.

 

“The Masters needed someone that could function here and knew their way around well enough to avoid being caught before we were ready to reveal we were here. Eyghon’s presence makes me stronger then the average Vampire of my age. Master William had heard about Faith from young Harris there and it was an easy matter to arrange to speak with her. She accepted the offer to work for the Aurelius Order in exchange for a very healthy monetary compensation and her freedom.” Ethan replies looking at the young woman fondly. “We’ve held the Hellmouth for over two years in the name of the Order.”

 

“A Slayer and a Warlock turned Vampire would certainly prove difficult to overcome.” Wes comments reluctantly.

 

“The sixty Fledglings and Neonates that we’ve steadily moved into position here have been of some help as well.” Faith adds dryly. “It wasn’t heard to arrange for people that are predisposed to assisting the Order have been manoeuvred into positions of power in the city government as well. Sunnydale belongs to Aurelius and within the next twenty or thirty years the Hellmouths in Rio, India, Russia, and Zimbabwe will be ours as well.”

 

“And the point of that would be what?” Giles asks seriously. “Once the other Hellmouths are yours, what then?” He pulls off his glasses and cleans the spotless lenses furiously.

 

“Then we hold them Watcher and William and our Order, MY, Order will be safer with those powder kegs under our control. The Order is healthy and thriving for the first time in centuries and the number of members is even now growing. Aurelius boasts six of the strongest Master Vampires in existence with new Childer being sired. We are reclaiming the glory of our bygone era. When it is time, Wil and I will raise our Childer together but it is not yet time for us to sire our own Childer. It is a full time job mentoring the Childer already sired. The remaining minions are strong and intelligent, each of them worth three or four their number. Aurelius will be an Order built by Childer not by disposable minions. Even now the ranks swell with those we can save by our gift.” Penn recites powerfully.

 

 “It’s a gift?!” A chorus of voices cry out with Angel’s in the lead and a loud argument breaks out.

 

“You have to understand that yes it is a gift to some people.” William’s quietly voiced comment drops like a stone in the sea of silence and the ripples soon silence the comments. “I have seen such wonders in the nearly century and a half that I have existed as a Vampire. I would have lived or died an unspectacular life, probably with a proper society wife that married me because it’s what women did back then. She’d give me some spoiled children with ambition other then to be accepted by society and the cycle would start all over again. I had to die to find a reason to live.”

 

“I have found some treatments that are capable of sending diseases such as Cancer into remission but the treatments are too powerful for a human to use more then three or four and they cannot affect a cure in less than eight to twelve treatments. All it can do for a Human is effect a remission of a few years.” Ravali reveals with quiet pride. “Their lives can be extended only a year or two at most, for some in the last stages of the disease that can be shortened to mere days or weeks.”

 

“At Master Wil’s request, I have perfected the spells necessary to permanently bind a human soul to a Demon.” Jacob provides. “At Master Penn’s request, I have perfected a series of enchantments that will allow a changed Human to retain their soul after they’re sired.”

 

“Wil suggested a means by which our ranks can be repopulated and give some terminal Humans a second chance at living once their Human LIFE is over. We have had several Childer born through such a means and with the approval of your much daunted Powers That Be. It appears that the defection of their Champion to Wolfram & Hart has left a vacuum in their infrastructure. It is a deficiency that we have agreed to fill.” Penn’s smile is smug as he delivers the devastating news. “We’re turning and training fighters for the Powers That Be, a new breed of Vampire Guardians.”

 

“Why would they condone something like that?” Giles and Wesley spout in unison.

 

“You don’t know?” William asks quietly, the surprised look on his face manages to shut everyone up again. He looks at Buffy and a sad expression moves across his face before he glances at Willow and his eyes frost over. “Did you think that you could flaunt the natural law and there wouldn’t be a price to pay? You ripped Buffy out of HEAVEN, returned her to a life as a SLAYER, when there was already another active Slayer TWICE over. Did none of you ever stop to wonder what it is you’ve done?” Wil’s voice is chillingly cold. “The first time Buffy ‘died’ Xander brought her back but it took just long enough for Kendra to be called as the new Slayer. Drusilla killed Kendra and Faith became the new Slayer but then Buffy died again and as much as I loved her, it was her time.” Wil’s eyes drop and so does Buffy as she hears Spike using the past tense in regard to his feelings for her. “It was an attempt by the Powers That Be to repair the Slayer line of succession. Buffy earned her reward and you rip her back to life for purely selfish reasons. You never once attempted to find out where Buffy actually was; you just assumed that you knew all there was to know and in that assumption you have caused something that will never be undone.” William’s leans over towards Penn unconsciously.

 

Penn meets his leaning movement, slipping his arm around Wil’s shoulders to slide his hand around the side of his neck so that his hand can reach up to cup his cheek. He pulls gently guiding Wil’s head to rest against his shoulder and chest, his thumb stroking over the sharply chiselled cheekbone in a soothing movement. He tips his head to brush his chin over Wil’s baby soft hair and purrs quietly. A loving smile curves his mouth upward as he feels Wil relax almost instantly, melting against him and answering his purr with one of his own.

 

“Your actions have caused a serious shift in the balance of power between the Powers That Be and the Dark Ones. YOUR actions had freed the First Evil, the ultimate source of all evil that has ever existed. Buffy’s resurrection was the key that unlocked the gates that have confined it for countless millennia. To seal the gateway and maintain the balance of power a tremendous sacrifice was required. The Balance Demons like Whistler, offered their immortal life-forces to seal the breach but it wasn’t enough. The Powers were forced to sacrifice possibly their greatest asset in the fight.”

 

Penn continues when it becomes apparent that William can’t continue to talk about the painful event that precipitated this unwelcome news. “There will no more Slayers. Buffy and Faith are the last of the Slayer bloodlines; all who would have been called after will now have their destinies re-written and will live their lives as though they had never been potentials. THAT is the price for containing the First and preventing the Apocalypse that you began single-handedly. You could have ended the world because you couldn’t say goodbye and let go,”

 

“We have struck a bargain that is beneficial for everyone involved. Aurelius will be the training and proving ground for the Powers’ new breed of warriors, Penn and myself the first of the new Balance Demons to replace those that valiantly gave up their existences, and the Order will reclaim its past glory.” William informs them. “The Powers felt that we have a unique perspective that they can use. We understand the tactics of Demons and their dark warriors and we understand heroes and the sacrifices that have to be made. We can walk the line between both sides.”

 

“And what are you getting for doing it?” Wesley demands, glancing towards Angel, angry on his behalf.

 

Penn only response is a chuckle as he curls his finger under Wil’s chin and gently tilts his head back and to the side. He grins as a devilishly wicked tongue sweeps across his bottom lip seconds before their hungry mouths open and join in a passionate kiss that has their friends beaming affectionately and has everyone else shifting in their seats at the carnal display.

 

“I have the only reward I’m ever going to need Watcher Jr.; I don’t need a carrot dangled in front of my face to get me to do something unselfish.” Penn says bitingly, sending a hard glance at Angel but his caressing hand on Wil remains tender and gentle.

 

“We didn’t make the decision because we expected to be rewarded for it. We made the decision because it was right for the Order and it gives us a future and it gives those that CHOOSE to join us a future that they wouldn’t have had otherwise. The Powers get their warriors raised, trained, and apprenticed with experienced fighters and the Aurelius Order thrives and the Powers welcome their fighters to the hereafter.” Wil reveals.

 

“Are you telling me that the Powers are going to allow DEMONS in Heaven?!” Giles exclaims.

 

“The Powers are going to allow those that give their lives in their service and in the name of their fellows into Heaven, yes. The Demons will be reclaimed by the darkness that birthed them at the time of their passing while that which was Human is given to the rest they have earned.” Penn informs them.

 

“And what happens to you and Spike, when it’s your time?” Anya asks.

 

“Wil and I are unusual as are the others that will eventually be joining us. We’ve integrated our Human and Demon halves and to divide us is to destroy who we are. We’ll be sent… elsewhere when our end comes.” Penn replies quietly, tightening his arm around Wil as he cuddles closer to bury his face against the curve of his neck and shoulder.

 

“When OUR end comes?” Angel questions, his voice tight and strangled.

 

“We’ve been apart long enough.” The pair murmur together and everyone inhales in unison as they realize what they’re actually stating when they say that.

 

“SPIKE, Spike, come dance with me?” Dawn’s happily explosive return has everyone smiling as she wrestles Spike out of his chair with a bit of subtle help from him and pulls him out into the main room.

 

Angel notices that the Twin to his right quietly trails after the pair. Even with Jacob’s spell in force preventing anyone in the city from deliberately doing any harm, their security remains in force. He’s humbled to see how well Penn is taking care of William and sad and ashamed that he’d failed to do the same. As their Sire, he should have protected them rather then let them come to harm. He’s failed them and is it little wonder that they have moved on without him. Maybe they have a point about not finding his redemption as a reward but seeking it for its own ends. It seems that the Sire still has a lot to learn from his Childer.

 

Chapter Nine

 

Aaron escorts a flushed and panting Dawn, grinning happily from the protection of Spike’s arms, and a proud looking Spike back to the atrium, dodging around the serving staff. Fragrant foods are set out before them like a rich banquet and Spike sweeps Dawn back to her seat with a graceful flourish that would have done any age-old Royal courtier well. Aaron resumes his seat, beaming under the smile and nod of appreciation from Penn and a pat on the shoulder from Spike. Grady looks somewhat flustered to get the same acknowledgment as he takes his seat next to his lady-love Lilia.

 

Penn stands as William rounds the table to resume his seat and the pair meets in a slow kiss before they sink in unison back into their chairs at the head of the table. Penn nods to the nervously hovering wine steward fluttering about and he pours a small measure of the rich red wine into his glass. After a brief pause to sip the offering, Penn nods with a pleased smile and the Steward sighs in relief and hurriedly fills the glasses in front of Wil and himself about three-quarters full. The Steward steps back with a bow and waves hurriedly to a quiet young man behind him; who is holding a smaller cut crystal decanter holding something equal dark and red but it’s not wine.

 

Penn shakes his head emphatically but softens the affect with a quiet smile as he holds his hand over his glass. Before anyone realizes what’s going on he’s swept up the spotless serrated steak knife and drawn it deeply across his palm. His healing factor kicks in quickly and only a small pool of blood gathers in his cupped palm to be tipped into Wil’s wine glass to mix with the rich red already there.

 

The humans stare in wordless fascination at the sight of Spike cupping Penn’s formerly wounded hand and removing the last traces of blood with slow languished sweeps of his tongue. They’re so fixated on the carnally sensual display that they barely notice Tara. She holds her hand out toward Jacob, who quietly draws the gleaming silver dagger that appears in his hand across her palm lightly scoring into the plump flesh. The dagger vanishes as suddenly as it appeared.

 

Tara cups her hand to pool the rich fluid before tipping her hand and letting her blood drip down into Penn’s glass of wine. A whispered incantation and a sweep of her free hand over her palm and the evidence of the wound vanishes as though it had never been there at all. Penn catches her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles in silent appreciation and thanks, as Wil straightens up from Penn’s glistening clean palm.

 

“What in the hell was that?” Buffy exclaims, shocked at the display so casually enacted for them.

 

“I’m taking care of my Childe, Slayer. Do you have a problem with that?” Penn asks as he reaches out to stroke his fingers through Wil’s thick hair in a gentle caress. “I won’t have him feed from animals. It’s barely enough to keep a minion functional much less a Master Vampire and it’s certainly not good enough for William. Humans need certain nutritional requirements to be healthy and for us it is much the same. I prefer to feed Wil myself when possible as feeding from me carries certain benefits aside from nutrition.” He nuzzles his cheek against Wil’s as a gentle smile curves his mouth as his Childe purrs quietly in response to the caress.

 

“He isn’t your Childe, he’s Drusilla’s Childe.” Giles points out coolly. He’s not sure what to make of this confident, worldly, and powerful Vampire that is frankly disproving many of beliefs about Vampires that he has held for the majority of his life. It was hard enough to reconcile and accept Spike with his unique differences but now to have to accept that all of these Vampires could be so radically different from what he expected.

 

“He is mine, Watcher. Drusilla is no longer a factor.” Penn’s eyes flash to Angel. “I’m surprised that you weren’t aware of that.”

 

Wil gets everyone’s attention as he straightens and sweeps around the end of the table in a slow walk. The eyes follow him as he walks around the table slowly, stopping behind Angel’s chair. A flash of his fangs and his palm is lacerated by a line of neat punctures oozing the rich thickly dark fluid that is their Vampiric lifeblood. He leans over the back of Angel’s chair and allows the bleeding palm to hover in front of his mouth.

 

Angel stiffens in his chair, throwing himself against the back of his chair and away from the scent of the blood that has his fangs dropping and his mouth flooded with saliva. It is the scent of family, home, desire, age, power, and obsession. The lure proves too great and he pitches forward to drag his tongue over the now healed palm, sweeping up the shed sweetness with hungry sweeps of his tongue.

 

He’s so caught up in the experience that he doesn’t realize he’s moaning ecstatically as his tongue chases after each and every last speck of the rich blood. He’s so focused that he doesn’t see the incredulous looks being sent his way or the sudden fidgeting in their chairs from the majority of the observers as the orgasmic sounds continue for what seems like forever. Even once the last drop of blood is gone his tongue still sweeps across the unblemished skin of the silken palm.

 

Suddenly Angel stiffen and throws himself back in his chair as his eyes lock onto Penn’s in a mixture of wonder, shock, horror, and curiosity. He realizes that it’s not what he tastes in Spike’s blood that’s so shocking but it’s what is no longer there that has awed him.

 

“I can’t believe that you took such a risk, not only with him but yourself as well.” Angel breathes, awed and more then a little jealous.

 

“What’s going on Angel?” Wesley demands, shooting Spike a dark look as the blond smiles smugly and returns to his seat beside Penn and picks up his wine glass and calmly sips the luxuriant brew of fine wine and Sire’s blood. “Are you alright?”

 

“Penn is Spike’s Sire, blood doesn’t lie. It carries the lineage of not only the Order a Vampire belongs to but their bloodline and immediate heritage as well. I should have been able to taste Drusilla in Spike’s blood because it was her blood that resurrected him to his Vampire life. All I taste in Spike’s blood is Penn and to a lesser degree myself and the Order. The marker Drusilla’s blood left in Spike is gone, totally obliterated. Penn has assumed her place as his Sire and it is his marker that infuses it now.”

 

“What do you mean you taste yourself?” Wes demands suspiciously looking at Penn and Spike.

 

“Penn’s blood carries my mark because I sired him, even as my blood still carries Darla’s marker. Because I sired Penn, they both share my blood marker though Penn’s is stronger in Spike now then my own. Penn has managed to enact a very dangerous, potentially fatal, ceremony known to very few surviving Vampires. He was telling the truth, Spike is his.” Angel says flatly.

 

“What sort of ceremony?” Giles finds himself asking, intrigued despite his better judgement.

 

“It is a ceremony that is of no concern to a human, Human.” Penn replies in a bored tone, his attention focused on the back of the hand he’s currently kissing and nibbling on while Wil chuckles.

 

“It is a blood rite that to my knowledge has only been successfully performed less than five times in all the history of our kind. It could well have killed them both; as it killed the hundreds, maybe even the thousands that have tried it in recorded history. What effect did it have on Drusilla? Does she still exist?” Angel glances towards the head of the table and feels his dead heart clench painfully.

 

“Do you know how very sad it is that you have to ask your Childe about the well-being of another of your Childer?” Ravali comments with a sad shake of her head. “Have you become so human that you cannot hear the call of the blood any longer?”

 

“Drusilla attempted to destroy Spike rather then let me take him from her but she failed. In the end our bond to each other was strong enough to overcome her mind games but the trauma nearly killed all of us for good. Ravali and Tara were able to sustain us long enough for us to heal and between us, Wil and I were able to prevent Drusilla’s final end. Jacob was able to bind her from causing harm to herself or to us and she is living quite happily among the Ravanna pride. Ravali’s kin have embraced her and she is cared for and happy and for the first time in a very long time, she is nearly sane.”

 

“You did your dark work well; she will never again be able to dwell alone. My Pride will guard her even as they protect her. The darkness that dwells in her is as dangerous as any that Angelus ever possessed and it has been contained. She will not be allowed to threaten the Masters again.” Ravali informs him.

 

“My blood keeps my Childe strong and it has certain benefits that help to maintain his health despite the chip’s effects.” Penn strokes a gentle hand through Spike’s hair, the soft strands curling and weaving around his fingertips. Since he decided to let his hair grow out a bit, the longer length smoothes the natural curliness of his hair into soft layers and waves that he just can’t seem to keep his hands out of.

 

“You still have the chip then.” Wes leans back, a pleased expression on his face that earns him dark looks from several of the assembled people.

 

“You sound pleased Human. It seems that for all your high-handed ideals that you still revel in the pain of others. Or does your mercy extend only to your own kind? It must be very convenient to have such particular morals. For the last year the chip has been firing constantly regardless of what Wil is doing. It became necessary to raise his tolerance for pain. I won’t describe how that was accomplished as I’m sure that some of you would prefer to keep your appetites for this lovely meal.” Penn’s voice betrays nothing of his emotions but the look in his eyes is chilling. It’s clear that Wesley has made an enemy.

 

Wil closes his hand around a razor sharp steak knife. He makes his own point in a silent display that has all of them jerking up straight in their chairs as he thrusts the knife through his own hand without a flinch. He pulls the knife free with a sawing motion, grabbing Penn’s glass of wine and letting it catching the dripping blood. The grievous wound heals within seconds and he wiggles his fingertips casually, smiling as Penn returns his earlier favour and licks the remaining traces of blood from his hand.

 

Angel quakes faintly at the display. The Initiative may have set out to de-fang Spike but it seems all that they’ve managed to do is make him more dangerous then ever before. Vampires possess unusually high tolerances for pain to begin with, pain being very much a part of their Demons, but to have a tolerance capable of overcoming sustained bursts of agony on an almost constant basis? None of them can mistake Spike for being anything less than every bit as deadly as he has ever been, if not in fact more so. It would be a good idea if some others could show some common sense and stop antagonizing him too.

 

Angel glances at Wesley and finding him looking back at him, he shakes his head in silent warning. If the former Watcher continues to antagonize the very powerful Vampires it’s sure to invoke a reaction that will force a confrontation that he’s not sure they could win. With Buffy’s abilities being countered by Faith, Willow, Giles, and Wesley being matched if not eclipsed by the sheer might of Jacob Chenault and Tara… it would likely be a fatal mistake. At the very least it could prove to be a very, very painful one for all of them. He is gratified as Wesley drops his eyes under his regard and seems to back off.

 

As soon as his hand is clean, Penn leans back and calmly starts cutting up the rare prime rib with the same knife that Wil had thrust through his hand. He is about to take a bite when Wil catches his hand with the fork. A gently exasperated shake of his head and a fond smile and he deflects the forkful of meat to his mouth instead. Before it can reach him however, Aaron catches hold of both of their hands and deflects the mouthful towards him instead, slipping it off the fork with a graceful bite. He chews methodically and swallows. After several seconds he nods subtly and picking up the fork from his roll of silverware he makes it an issue to taste each and every item that has been brought to Penn and Spike. Once he’s done so, he sets his fork aside and nods. Spike smiles his thanks and waits contentedly as Penn proceeds to feed them both. It is a sign for everyone to begin their meal.

 

The next while passes in an uneasy silence for the Sunnydale and LA contingents but Penn and company chat and dine in easy camaraderie and it’s obvious that they all hold each in esteem, genuine affection, and respect.

 

Angel watches the assemblage with a curious eye. It’s clear that Tara, Dawn, Jacob, and Lilia are considered part of their extended family despite the humanity that should have the Vampires see them as prey. Although the years Jacob has seen without aging, his magic retarding the press of the years, he may not be strictly human anymore. Though he looks to be in his early forties he knows for a fact that the powerful Warlock has seen at least two centuries, nearly all of those as the Mate of the powerful and ancient Ravali.

 

He moves his curious glance towards the elegantly poised Tara. She is an enigma to him. He has heard Willow speaking about her but somehow the conversations always turn to Willow-centric and he’s never managed to really learn much about Tara. The loyalty she is showing towards his Childer, his youngest in particular intrigues him greatly. Unless he misses his guess, it will be something other than magic that will see the years turning for Tara and leaving her unchanged by its march.

 

It has been over two centuries since he last saw an Order that had human servitors as adjuncts to the Order but he remembers some from the court of The Master during his fledgling years. It is a practice that was all but extinct in this modern age and he has to feel nostalgic about its return and the melancholy memories it raises of his own fledgling years. A lot of truths have been spoken this evening, or unspoken in some cases but no less apparent. He has a lot of thinking to do about the choices he’s made in his life. Are they truly his choices or has he been lead and manipulated into believing that they were?

 

“Do you always eat food?” Anya asks, looking around at the Vampires. “I thought that Spike was the only Vampire that did that as a normal thing.”

 

“To our surprise there are some benefits from eating in the human way.” Aaron replies.

 

“No one could be more shocked then we were to find out that Vampires that eat actually heal faster then those on a more typical diet. Additionally they tend to be two to five times stronger and slightly more resistant to the effects of sunlight.” Ravali reveals. “The diet does require certain elements, heaviest on the protein and the rarer the better of course. We’ve done some extensive testing on the subject in an effort to help Master William recover from his treatment at the hands of the Humans. It’s really all quite fascinating what we’ve discovered. For instance a Vampire’s body functions very much like a nuclear reactor. It is a thousand times more efficient then a human’s allowing fully ninety-nine percent of whatever they ingest to be utilized by their bodies. What little can’t be digested and utilized by the body is excreted through the pours as a perspiration derivative.”

 

Jacob grins at some of the blank and confused looks being sent Ravali’s way. “In laymen’s terms, food go in, nothing… much… comes back out as waste.” The light dawns for everyone and Angel looks distinctly pleased as using the bathroom is one experience he can honestly say he’s glad to have missed all these centuries.

 

“Also we tend to fit in better in social situations where others have more… traditional diets. We do have fairly extensive dealings with Humans, some of who are ignorant of what we are.” Penn adds with an amused smile. “We’re set apart by the fact of what we are, there’s no need to make it even more readably obvious. We appear at least cosmetically human most of the time; we can use that to our advantage.”

 

“No doubt to deceive and stalk more human.” Wesley says making a snorting sound. He’s not really sure where this sudden burst of hostility he’s feeling originates but the enigmatic looks he keeps catching Angel shooting towards his Childer is unnerving to him.

 

“That’s rather enough out of you for one evening I think Mr. Price.” Tara says decisively. “If you cannot speak in good will then your venomous tongue I will still.” A flutter of her fingertips and a flash of light and Wesley makes a choking sound as his hand flies to his throat.

 

“I’d consider you fortunate Human. The last person that upset Lady Tara spent a week as a dung beetle.” Erick snickers and one by one everyone other then the clearly apoplectic Wesley laughs as well.

 

“He struck Spike for no other reasons then he thought he could and get away with it. He’s lucky he didn’t live out his life as one.” Tara sniffs delicately as she set aside her utensils having finished with her dinner. “This is Dawn’s night and since you can’t seem to keep a civil tongue on your own tonight, I’ve given you a little help. You can speak as long as it’s civil and polite and intended in good spirit. Otherwise Mr. Price I for one would rather you remain silent.” Tara says implacably firm.

 

“You really have left me.” Willow’s voice can be heard clearly despite the distance separating her from Tara. “I guess I never really thought that you would do that willingly.”

 

“I’m sure that Amy makes a perfectly acceptable replacement if you need to leech power Willow.” Tara says flatly, dropping her eyes with a sigh as Willow pales alarmingly and instantly drops her eyes and looks guilty. “Imagine my surprise when Jacob told me that I was much more powerful then I’d always assumed I was and that it was you that lead me to believe that I was weak. Powerful little Willow knows best huh?” Tara’s tone is both sad and bitter but strangely lacking in anger.

 

“You were using her magic to fuel your own?!” Giles exclaims horrified. “No wonder you suddenly jumped in ability and power if you were leeching off Tara’s magic to fuel your own spell work.”

 

“I didn’t do that! It was me, it was all ME.” Willow denies hotly.

 

“You have barely enough natural magic to cast simple divination spells and wards. You aren’t even a Witch, you’re a Sorceress. You need to absorb magic to cast it and you must have been overjoyed to meet Tara after you discovered what she is.” Jacob says coolly.

 

“What’s the difference between a Witch and a Sorceress?” Gunn asks looking confused.

 

“A Witch is born with both the affinity for magical working and with certain innate power that they can use to facilitate their workings. The level of ability a true Witch is born with is very personal, it varies from person to person and can manifest differently even within familial lines. A Witch has the ability to draw on ambient magical energy, that like true energy can never be destroyed and its form only altered, to boost their abilities. However Witches are very much connected to the flow of power and few will ever trespass so greatly as to steal another living being’s energy.” Giles explains, sending a dark glance to Willow.

 

“A Sorceress is born with only the affinity for magical working but little personal power. To work magic they have to absorb sufficient amounts of ambient energy or draw it from a source of some kind. In this case Willow’s rapid progress in magic was fuelled unwittingly by Tara, who was unaware of the true extent of her magical gifts. As Willow drew off more of Tara’s energy to fuel her own spells, she grew in power while it seemed that Tara remained little more than an apprentice. In truth Tara’s abilities are quite impressive and I believe that in time, they will rival my own.” Jacob adds.

 

“Willow is a magical Vampire!?!” Xander exclaims looking shocked and hurt by the revelation.

 

“Well perhaps in a sense that analogy is fitting yes.” Jacob agrees. “Willow is talented that cannot be denied but her path to power is one that is rife with pitfalls that few have ever navigated successfully. Magic can be as addicting as any drug, the more you absorb, the more you want the rush the power brings. Eventually they degenerate into leeches constantly seeking power to get their fix. Rack was such a parasite, though he’ll be bothering no one else ever again.”

 

“What did you do to Rack?” Willow demands furiously.

 

“He cheated the centuries with stolen energy from thousands upon thousands of foolish people that couldn’t see him for what he was. That has been rectified and time’s march is once more its own. Rack’s stolen magic has been returned and the price for his trespass has been paid. Learn from his example and don’t follow in his footsteps or his fate will be yours as well.” Jacob’s voice holds no pity or mercy and no one really looks upset as Willow tosses her napkin down on her plate and storms out.

 

Giles pulls his glasses off and cleaning the lenses methodically he looks at Jacob. “Can she be saved? Or has it gone too far already?”

 

Jacob’s mouth turns up at the corner in a wry expression. “You of all people should know that it’s never too late to change Rupert Giles.” He gestures down the table towards Ethan. “Eyghon is contained for as long as Ethan exists, held in check by the Demon and Ethan’s lingering traces of humanity that Penn and the others have carefully reinforced. Ethan was a boy when he fell into his dark ways and now he’s fighting for a different way of life as a man. If Willow wants to change and is willing to do the work then it’s never too late.” Jacob says comfortingly but there’s a shadow in his eyes that Giles can’t help but feel chilled to see.

 

“There’s something that you aren’t saying.” Giles challenges.

 

“Willow and Amy were bringing others to Rack in exchange for boosting their powers.” Tara provides. “As nearly as we could estimate almost everyone in Sunnydale with any significant level of magic was fodder for Rack at some point or another, except for Dawn and Anya. Faith reported that several deaths have been reported lately that the police had blamed on drug overdoses. They were the shells that were left after Rack finished draining them of all their magic and energy. We’re not sure whether or not Willow knew what was happening to the people she ‘recruited’ for Rack but we know that Amy is fully aware of it and willingly helped him.”

 

“Willow was helping to kill people?” Xander looks horrified and betrayed. “Why? Why would she do that?” Anya tries to comfort him but he angrily pushes her hands away and shoves his chair back and hurries out of the room.

 

“Let me go after him? I think I can help him with answers he’s looking for.” Wil pushes his chair back and stands.

 

Anya had stood up to follow Xander but the quietly voiced request has her sinking back into her chair with a grateful nod. “Thank you, Spike, I don’t think I could say what he wants, needs, to hear.”

 

Wil stops and cups her shoulder in silent camaraderie before he leaves silently. He really has found himself growing very fond of the bluntly honest ex-Vengeance Demon… and he supposes to a degree it extends to her Husband as well.

 

Penn silently gestures to Aaron and the others to keep their seats, as several of them stand in preparation to follow the departing Vampire, and follows after William himself.

 

Chapter Ten

 

It’s not hard for Wil to follow Xander through the crowded rooms of the Country Club and out into the quiet garden. It’s not the first time the scent of despair, chocolate, carpenter’s glue, traces of the musky oriental scent of Anya’s perfume, and rich seasoned wood, that is Xander’s scent, has tickled his nose. He looks around the darkening night and the soft haze of fog that has begun to lay its nebulous presence over the garden and he’s thankful. The inhospitable night will keep the less hardy inside and give him a chance to talk to Xander privately.

 

He follows the scent trail with unerring accuracy, seemingly unsurprised when it leads him to the not-so miniscule hedge maze that dominates the Country Club’s rear English-style formal garden. He smiles fondly as he navigates the maze of twists and turns, chuckling quietly as he’s lead to several dead ends and back out again as he traces Xander’s path. The combination of the fog and the ten foot walls of living greenery and the soft mossy crush of the grass under his feet lend a certain sublime familiarity to the proceeding.

 

He remembers his youth and many country parties spent in such gardens and mazes, fondly. How strange that he should feel so at home in a country so far removed from his place of birth… and rebirth. His wasn’t the most posh of upbringings but he had the privileges of a doting Mother, a well-padded trust fund from a Father he can’t remember, and swift and intelligent mind. True he was enamoured of a woman that didn’t share his regard; the humiliation of his final night as a human had been extreme but he was hardly the first or last man to be caught in such circumstances. It was such an ordinary beginning to such an extraordinary adventure. He has seen the turn of the century and eternity has been forced into retreat and it is well possible that he could see countless more before he reaches the end of his journey. He’s always been amused that he never actually knew how to live until after he’d died.

 

The increasing intensity of Xander’s scent lets him know that he’s drawing close and it snaps him back to the present. He turns the corner and isn’t surprised to see Xander batting at the trailing leaves of the hedge in frustration at another dead end, as he spins around in a little frustrated circle. He looks relieved to see him but then he carefully blanks his expression and tries to look calm and cool.

 

“Hey Spike.” He says gruffly, crossing his arms and turning his hands toward him to hug his torso. “Did you zig when you should have zagged or did you take the wrong turn at Pismo Beach too?”

 

Wil chuckles and takes Xander’s hand and pulls him after him like an engine does a caboose. It takes him only a two false tries to figure out the key to the maze. Once he has the key, they quickly reach the center of the maze and the large sitting area and gazebo that it sports.

 

Xander looks very impressed. “How did you do that? Is that some weird vampire thing?”

 

“It was growing up in a time when these things were in the ‘proper’ formal gardens of every country house of any respectable size.” Wil admits honestly. He heads for the gazebo, its protection is rather meagre but at least it’s some shelter from the foggy atmosphere.

 

Not sure what else to do or what’s expected of him Xander follows Spike and sits across from him on one of the padded wounded benches. “So you drew the short straw huh?”

 

“I asked Anya to let me talk to you. I think I can help you with the answers to those questions you don’t really want to ask but that you need to. You know it’s not Willow’s fault, not really.”

 

“How can it not be her fault? She’s hurting people! She may not have known that guy was killing them but she had to know he was up to no good if he had to get them to do his dirty little recruiting for him! I don’t know Willow anymore!” Xander all but screams in anger but then the fury seems to pass and he visibly deflates and his shoulders droop as he drops his forward into his cupped palms. “I don’t think I know any of them anymore. Maybe I never did. The Buffy and Willow I thought I knew couldn’t have done the things I know they’ve done. I don’t know what normal is anymore, if I ever knew that is.”

 

“Not everyone that does something bad or something wrong is necessarily evil, Harris.” Wil makes a grand waving gesture with his arm and hand, sweeping it out into an arch. “You live on a Hellmouth and normal here is well and truly fucked up royally anywhere else. Normal just doesn’t apply to this place or to the people that stay here. I have to tell you, Mate, if you’re going to judge normal by what happens in this place, you’re never gonna find it.”

 

Wil climbs up on one of the padded benches to sit on the railing facing Xander and resting his booted feet on the padding. “Your high school blows up. Within a year or two they simply build a new one, no fan fare no bloody National Guard being called out or press camped out on every yard like leaches hiding in a stagnant pool. I’d hate to break it to ya Harris but a school blowing up just about anywhere else tends to make the news. So does the local mayor turning into some big principal eating snake thing.” Wil points out wryly, concealing a smile as Xander can’t help but chuckle and he gives himself a little mental pat on the back.

 

“I guess that’s true but it doesn’t explain a Spike-abusing Buffy or a magic–obsessed Willow.” Xander points out with a fatalistic sigh. “Where was I, have I been, that I didn’t see what was going on?”

 

“I think you were growing up Harris.” Wil replies quietly. “You grew up, worked your problems with Anya out, and you got married. Marriage changes your priorities and prerogatives and you don’t see the cracks in the façade your friends show to the world as easily. You aren’t the moral compass of the Scoobies Xander. What’s happened to Willow isn’t your fault.”

 

“Willow is evil and I didn’t notice it! How can that NOT my fault, Spike?!” Xander exclaims but looks confused as Wil shakes his head and a small chuckle escapes him.

 

“You may have seen a lot of bad things, beaten a lot of big baddies but never fool yourselves into thinking you’ve ever faced true evil, Harris.” Wil’s tone is gravely serious as his glacial blue eyes shine in the darkness with a primal light. “You’ve never faced true evil; we wouldn’t be talking now if you had. Buffy has saved the world that’s true, many times over, all of you have but for your sakes I hope you never reach the day that you face evil. You won’t win when that day comes.” Wil’s voice is deadly serious. “Willow is just a child, a little girl, that wanted to be needed and its lead her down a dark road. It was probably simple at first, a little spell to make the problems go away and no one gets hurt right? That’s the way it always begins, the small seductions that lead you farther and farther away from the light and into the shadows. She probably had the best of intentions but you can still make horrible mistakes even when you try to do something that you think is good. It doesn’t make her evil though, it just makes her a mislead child. The same thing happened to Buffy. She’s a Slayer and they live by their fists it’s almost an expected reaction that she’d strike out. If life has taught me any hard lessons it’s that sometimes the pain gets so bad that the only thing that makes it better is to hurt someone else; it just happened to be me. It doesn’t make her evil, just wrong to handle it the way that she did. I wasn’t shocked however by the violence she reacted with. Slayers are bred to violence for a violent and often brief life.” Wil says quietly, shrugging as though it doesn’t matter.

 

Xander can’t help but feel sorry for Spike, something he never thought he’d be, that he can accept violence so easily as part of his life. “So they’re just bad and not evil.” Xander can’t help the sarcastic tone.

 

Wil’s eyes grow unfocused, as though staring at something very far away. “Evil is something so beyond anything you’ve faced before. Do you want to know what evil is?” He asks in a quiet voice.

 

All Xander can do is nod, never having seen Spike like this before.

 

“Evil are the screams of millions dying because they were a convenient focus for a mad man’s vision of world domination. Hitler was Human and he killed more people than any Demon I’ve ever met and yes that does include Angelus and hell it includes me too. Fuck let’s just be honest, that mad man killed more people than probably the entire Vampire species since the time before history. How many Watchers Council do you suppose there are to stop that from ever happening again?” Wil’s eyes flash. “You Humans kill more of your own kind than we ever have, isn’t that just ironic? Hitler’s scientists used Humans as guinea pigs in their vile science experiments and it’s one of the greatest travesties of your history. The Initiative does the same on Demons and the Slayer dates their poster boy and joins up.”

 

The bitter edge to Wil’s voice and his clenching fists make Xander wonder if he ever has known what true evil is. He admits to himself that he’s never seen Spike as anything more then a Vampire. Maybe he sees him as even lower than most for coveting the dream girl he’s never been man enough to win and getting her, even if she courted him with her fists more then her kisses. “You were there.” Xander can’t imagine what it must have been like to have actually been around during the time of the holocaust.

 

“I was there.” Wil quietly acknowledges, a definite sad edge to his voice. “The Nazis didn’t discriminate much. For every Human that perished, three Demons met their end in their vile labs and exterminations but that never made your nice ‘human’ history books. It’s funny you know, I was caught in one of their little ‘cleansing sweeps’ and I probably would have died if Angelus, well Angel really as he was still very much souled at the time, hadn’t been there helping the U.S. military? To this night I still don’t know why he just let me go like he did but he did all the same. And what happens? I get caught by the American inheritors of the Nazi mindset and get me a painful little souvenir.” Wil taps his temple.

 

“Is what that other guy said true? Does the chip go off for no reason?” Xander can’t help but feel empathy for the pain involved if it’s true.

 

“For the last year it hasn’t shut off. Ravali thinks that it’s some kind of a fail-safe built into it, a little insurance against any of their test subjects getting out of hand or just out ‘of’ their hands. Even if one escaped sooner or later the fail-safe would kick in and if the pain didn’t do the poor sods in then they’d probably off themselves just to end the pain.” Wil’s fingertips lightly brush his forehead. “That was never an option for me, Penn will never let me go and I don’t want him to.”

 

“I’m surprised with all the resources you must have now that they can’t find a way to get it out.” Xander admits rather surprised that Spike still has it honestly.

 

“There’s no medical way to remove it, at least not by anyone outside the Bastards that cut me open and shoved their leash into my brain. Ravali believes that the chip contains an explosive charge to prevent medical tampering. One slip of the scalpel and chip goes boom along with my head. Jacob provided a mystical option that has a price of a different nature. I know that Penn would accept me whether I had a soul or not but that would only happen if I survived the Demon Trials and if I didn’t survive, I don’t think he would live long after me. That’s a risk that I won’t take, not with Penn. He’s going to change the face of what it means to be a Vampire and if we have a future it will be with him.”  Wil readily admits. “It would mean more then my existence if I were to fail. It’s too high a price to risk having to pay when pain is just a trick of the mind. It can be overcome.”

 

“How… how did you overcome it?” Xander stammers, not sure he wants to know the answer to that question.

 

“You’ll sleep better if I don’t answer that question.” Wil simply replies.

 

Xander decides it’s a good idea that he doesn’t answer it too suddenly. “So you’re, uh, with that Penn guy, huh?” He stammers a bit.

 

“Yeah, isn’t he beautiful?” Wil replies with an openly honest grin and a happy wiggle as he wraps his arms around his own waist.

 

Xander is taken aback by the expression on Spike’s face and in his eyes. He’s never seen Spike look that way when he was talking about someone before, not even Drusilla and Buffy, and he finds it rather charming. “I didn’t know you swung… well… you know ‘that’ way.”

 

“Humans, you always have to find labels for everything, fit your lives into neat little boxes.” Wil chuckles with a fond smile. “I love him. I loved Buffy, Dru, Angelus but only Penn has ever loved me back like I love him. I didn’t know how much they’d really fucked me up until he showed me how love is supposed to be. He’s always loved me you know, from the moment Dru brought me to the family.”

 

“Are you absolutely sure that you’re all Vampires because you’re not like any I’ve ever met and your friends seem more normal then my friends. I’m not sure whether to be alarmed or not about that.” Xander admits with a nervous chuckle. Wil lets his Demon flicker forward before rippling back to the striking features that mark his Human half. “Okay yeah you’re definitely a Vampire.” Xander has to chuckle. “Are Vampires everything Giles says they are Spike?” His expression goes from amused to serious in a heartbeat.

 

“Yes and no, whelp. What he does know are mostly half-truths and the result of observations others have made but they’ve only seen a partial glimpse. They know a lot about minions but not much of what they know about Childer or Master Vampires is accurate.” Wil’s voice trails off as something has been nibbling quietly at the edge of his conscious mind.

 

 “This isn’t about Willow is it? Something more has upset you tonight. Do you want to ask me what you really want to know?” Wil asks quietly.

 

“I had a friend, his name was Jesse and he was turned. I staked him… I thought I was doing the right thing. Spike did I do the right thing… or could Jesse have been like you?” Xander rubs his eyes, dashing away tears before they can fall.

 

“To be honest I can only tell you that if he was a minion or turned by one then you absolutely did the right thing. A minion is little more than an animal when they’re turned initially, a beast in every way. Their only drive is to kill and feed and they have no real higher mental functions for quite some time after their turning. It takes upwards of twenty to thirty years for the bloodlust to recede enough for them to regain their higher mental functions. Until then they’re merely tools and puppets of the one that turned them. If the one that turned them is strong enough, the resulting minions will have more control while in their presence. However even the strongest Master can’t overcome that first initial animalist rush to feed. It typically passes within two weeks to a month if they’re allowed to feed as they wish to. If your friend was turned by a minion, that’s just worse. A vampire turned by a minion as a minion will never regain any of their mental faculties.” Wil explains bluntly. “He may have looked like your friend but he’d have killed you as soon as look at you. Death would have been a mercy to the memory of your friend.”

 

“And if Jesse was like you?” Xander is afraid to know the answer but he knows that he really needs to ask the question all the same.

 

“By like me, you mean a Childe as opposed to a minion I assume?” Wil asks, sighing as Xander nods. “That’s a harder question to answer. How a Childe develops has a lot to do with who their Sire is and of course their personality before they were turned. I don’t know your friend Jesse but Dru and I were tied tightly to the bloodline back then and I can honestly say that I think that I would have felt the loss of a true Childe of the line. There are not that many true Childer and Masters left and of the few that were left and were here when it must have happened….” Wil’s voice trails off. He shoots a regretful look at Xander. “I don’t think that he was turned as a Childe, Xander or that if he had he wouldn’t have been anything like the friend you remember. You did do the right thing, the shell that was left wasn’t your friend anymore… OOMPHH!” Wil grunts as Xander suddenly throws his arms around him and squeezes him so strongly he lifts him off his feet.  He wraps his arms around the youth’s shaking shoulders, carefully tightening his arms, always cognizant of his inhuman strength, and strokes a gentle hand through Xander’s dark hair.

 

He holds the young man as he cries; rubbing his back soothingly and he can’t help but marvel at the feel of steel-corded muscle under his palm. The young man has definitely grown up and construction has definitely done his body a good service. Anya is a very lucky woman. ‘How long have you been blaming yourself for what you did, pet?” He asks quietly. He stifles a chuckle as he feels the muscles under his hold stiffen at the sound of his voice. Xander has finally remembered whose arms he dived into and who he’s been crying on. He calmly releases his hold as the young man jumps back frantically trying to scrub away the evidence of his tears.

 

“Well everyone told me I did the right thing, the only thing that I could do but then you came along and you’re so… damn human. I couldn’t help but wonder if I killed Jesse when I could have helped him.” Xander admits in a voice muffled by his scrubbing hands.

 

Wil settles back against the railing, looking over his shoulder and smiles into the fog-shrouded darkness. Penn steps into a patch of soft light; being cast by the lantern-shaped lighting scattered around the maze to mimic the Victorian mazes of old. He lifts his hand toward Penn in silent request and he smiles as the elder Vampire accepts his invitation without hesitation.

 

Penn vaults the railing in an easy leap, landing on the bench beside Wil; who shifts position on the railing until the lounging elder is cradled between his thighs and resting comfortably against his body. Penn relaxes in Wil’s embrace and smiles as Wil’s fingers predictably gravitate to his hair, carding through the thick strands.

 

Xander notices the new arrival as he drops his hands and clears his throat nervously, looking a little embarrassed as he wonders if the other man saw him breakdown emotionally.

 

“This is Xander Harris beloved, Xander this is my Sire Penn Ramsay, the Master of the Aurelius Order.” Wil completes the introductions and completely blows the formal moment by leaning down and squeezing Penn like a child does a favourite Teddy Bear. The impetuous display has both Penn and Xander grinning.

 

“Wil’s spoken of you and your Mate often, it’s a pleasure Mr. Harris. I do admit to being curious about the man brave and crazy enough to marry Anyanka.” Penn’s voice and expression are surprisingly warm and open. “It takes either a brave man or a fool to marry a Vengeance Demon, particularly the patron of scorned women.” He notes with more then a little amusement.

 

“She’s retired, I swear!” Xander replies with a grin but he can’t help but mutter. “But I never forget her birthday or any important Holidays I can promise you that.”

 

They all share a chuckle over that obviously true statement and Xander is rather surprised by the obvious happiness and devotion the pair of Vampires shares. He can’t help but be curious about how they came to be so unique and how they’ve managed to sway so many others to their way of thinking. He knows that their kindler gentler approach has to be genuine because Tara is the sweetest and most gentle soul he’s ever met. He can’t imagine her condoning anything but the high degree of civilized behaviour he’s witnessed from these strange but somehow likeable Vampires tonight.

 

“I wanted to thank you, Spike, for the wedding gift you sent Anya and I. You would have been… welcome you know, if you’d wanted to come that is… oh and we’d known where to send the invitation.” Suddenly a thought occurs to Xander. “Hey how did you know when the wedding was anyway… oh Dawn right?” Of course it was Dawn and here he was envisioning all these weird scenarios.

 

“Anya asked Dawn to let me know that I was invited. I was still too ill to travel that far so I couldn’t be here. I sent the envelope with the gift to Dawn and she made sure it made its way to the gift table for me. She told me all about the ceremony. Did D’Hoffryn really try to get you to leave her at the altar?”

 

“Yeah he did but fortunately it didn’t work this time around. I guess I did grow a backbone eventually huh? I didn’t relax until we were back from our honeymoon.” Xander admits with a grin and the Vampires obligingly chuckle in response. “Spike could I…?” Xander’s voice trails off but he forces the butterflies down and continues as Spike nods and makes a waving motion, encouraging him to ask him whatever it is. “Could you tell me about how you were, ya know before the whole ‘grrrr’ thing?”

 

“I would prefer it if you called him William or Wil. Spike was a creation of Angelus’ unique brand of torturous Childe-rearing.” Penn requests quietly. “The name has some… less then welcome memories attached to it now as well.” Penn doesn’t have to add that the majority of those unpleasant memories are attached to Buffy and Angel. He doesn’t need to.

 

“I’m sorry, Wil. Would you mind talking about it? You just seem so unlike everything Giles taught us that Vampires are, all of you are really. You were the first to break the stereotype though and I’d really love to know if you wouldn’t mind talking about it.” Xander asks again.

 

Wil looks surprised but flattered and after a minute’s deliberation he slowly nods. “What I’m going to tell you is something only two people know, not even Angelus and Drusilla know about my human life.”

 

Xander glances at Penn and he just knows that he is one of the two that knows everything and if he were to guess than Tara is the other one. He understands the magnitude of what he’s going to hear and settles in to wait quietly and lets Spike, no Wil, let’s Wil talk.

 

“I was born in 1852 in the Cavendish Square area of London; it was a fashionable area back in those days. My Mum was a grand beauty in her day and she had a bit of money. You have to understand that in that time and place all respectable young women had to look forward to, was marrying well and hopefully to pick a husband that was at best tolerable. In those days it was all about making an advantageous match and love was a luxury that not even the richest could afford. Love was for Mistresses and duty was for wives.” Wil gets a far away look in his eye; as though he was looking at something only he can see.

 

“London society was regimented, very much so. The ton rarely had much to do with anyone they considered to be of a ‘lower’ station then themselves. You were either a peer, equal to or greater than their station in life or you were a servitor there to serve their whims. The only exceptions were for certain men of ‘undeclared parentage’ as it was called back then. It was always men, as not even a healthy dowry was enough for a female child to overcome the stigma.” Penn provides helpfully.

 

“They call it ‘illegitimate’ now.” Wil adds and Penn nods. “For the most part such children were shunned and made outcast from society. Their only recourse was to retire to a country estate; if they were of acceptable means; and marry some Land-Owner’s daughter. If they didn’t have the means then their only option was to enter what was called ‘trade’; that was basically to work for a living. Most High-Born had a very derogatory regard for anyone that had to work for a living. There were few exceptions.”

 

“Sometimes the children of illicit liaisons could be accepted by society if their parentage was of sufficient ‘calibre’ and they had funds enough or the prospects thereof to be considered part of the Ton.” Penn provides. “Occasionally such men, for again women were little more then status symbols in society, could enter the trades if their position was one of suitable respect. Medical, legal, owning a successful business, those would have been considered acceptable for such a man. There were many rules both spoken and unspoken and to break any of them was reason enough to be exiled from society.”

 

“My mum was a rare woman for her day. She had actually been in love with the man she was engaged to marry, so much so that she broke the laws of ‘polite’ society and lay with him before their marriage vows. The banns had been spoken on two of the three Sundays as was proper in high society but unfortunately by the third and final Sunday, my Father was dead, consumption I believe they claimed it was. My Mother unfortunately discovered a short time after his death that she was expecting me.” Wil explains. “For many children of such ‘unfortunate’ circumstances; that would have been the end of their ever being accepted by ‘high’ society.” Wil explains with a grimace.

 

Xander listens raptly, his head cocking to the side as William’s accent gradually smoothens and softens out to sound more like Giles or Wesley’s voices. He’s always secretly thought that his voice was quite nice but with his accent softened and his words free of their usual brash tones, it’s beautiful.

 

“I was fortunate in that my Father was the only son of a Duke and that my Mother’s position as an heiress and also a daughter of titled parents, reflected well on me. My Grandfather was a cranky old goat but he did acknowledge and accept me as the legal heir of his late son. You have to understand that such occurrences were rare, so rare as to be barely spoken of.” Wil goes on to explain. “As the illegitimate heir, I could not inherit the title and it would past to my eldest Aunt’s husband on my Father’s side. While my Grandfather was willing to acknowledge me as his late son’s heir, he was unwilling to accept me as his own. It was difficult for me to grasp growing up, the distinction that he had made.”

 

Wil leans forward and wraps his arms around Penn and pulls him more tightly against him. “My Mother’s family was less accepting and she was ostracised but her money and titles were hers all the same. I received my Father’s monies and other holdings that were not tied to his position as the Ducal heir and that left us well off. My Mother chose to raise me rather then fostering me out as was the custom in those days for illegitimate children. She bought a large but modest home in one of the most fashionable neighbourhoods and set us up in simple elegance. It was to her credit that she was still welcomed by society, even having not only bourn an illegitimate son but having chosen to keep him.”

 

Penn strokes Wil’s forearm; letting his caresses comfort to him as he relives a past that few would have ever believed that they could have attributed to him.

 

“My Mother doted on me and she gave me the best of everything that she could afford. She sent me to all the best schools with only one proviso, being that I not be shipped off to a boarding school but would remain living at home. I attended Oxford and I was only months away from my medical certifications when circumstances brought me to Drusilla’s attention. I’d taken a job in a rather posh investment firm, to help with our expenses. Since we could expect little to no help from our relatives, we had to be careful in matters of finance, especially with the greedy bastards trying to take every scrap they felt was their due. It didn’t matter if it really was or not, they just wanted it so that I couldn’t have it. They saw me as Angel sees me now, a waste of space.” Wil explains quietly. “I was a gentleman in every sense of the word. I would rather quote poetry then joust on the duelling fields. I’d just had my heartbroken by the woman I’d hoped to court and I thought that my life was over… and then it was.”

 

Penn takes up the tale as William falls silent. “Drusilla turned him and brought him back to Angelus and later to Darla and myself to be presented; as is only proper for a Sire to do when their Sire and Elders still exist. Drusilla is many things but chief among them is that she is ‘broken’ in mind and spirit both. We all knew that any Childer she had would never survive her insane unconcern for her own well-being and nevermind anyone else’s… excepting her precious Angelus of course. She died for him and he became her life, the focus of all she knew. I knew when I first saw him that William was different, that much, much more of his humanity had survived the transformation than of any Childe I had ever heard of. So unchanged was he, that the initial bloodlust that all who are first turned experience, was all but absent in him. He overcame in days what takes many a month to achieve.”

 

Penn tilts his head back to look up at Wil and he smiles as a soft kiss is pressed against his mouth in silent love and affection. He lowers his head and continues the story. “I tried to spare him what I knew was coming and offered to raise him myself as my own Childe but all it took was one look for Angelus to fall. He declared that he would raise William as his own.”

 

Both Penn and Wil drop their eyes and cling tighter to each other and it’s clear to Xander that both of the men share horrible memories of whatever happened afterward.

 

“Angelus did his best to rip and shred any humanity out of Wil and eventually he succeeded when he practically killed me… again… and let Wil think that he had. Of all the things Angelus has done since he was turned it is what he did to William more then any other that will damn him. Drusilla may have sired William but it was Angelus that created Spike. I bet he’s never admitted that to this day that he hates you for being what he made you to be. Angelus was always good at avoiding having to take responsibility for his own actions.” Penn says bitterly.

 

“Penn however did survive Angelus’ treachery and he thrived. He’d tried to find me again but Angelus had moved us by then and would keep us moving for many more years to come until he was finally cursed by the Romany. Penn tried to follow us but it seemed he was always just a bit too late and we were always gone by the time he arrived. The years turned into decades and eventually to years and a century passed. Learning that Angelus had become Angel and slain his Sire, Grand-sire, and allowed the slaying of one of his Childer by a human, a conclave was called. The remaining Masters of the Aurelius Order met and since Angelus was now Angel and wholly unable to assume his place as the Master of the Order, Penn was chosen instead.” Wil says proudly.

 

“I learned that William had been spotted here and that the rumours placed him here still and I set out immediately. I stayed concealed at first, needing to access the challenges and the threats to William objectively. I learned what the Initiative had done to him and was going to reveal myself to him but I chanced upon your Slayer friend beating him and leaving him to perish. I made myself known after she had gone and offered my help and then Tara came upon us. We both wanted to help Wil so we set aside our differences and she chose to accompany us when we left. And now here we are today.” Penn concludes.

 

“Wow you were going to be a Doctor? I never would have imagined that. Why did Angelus hurt you anyway? He’s your Sire isn’t he?” Xander is amazed by the story the Vampires have shared with him.

 

“Yes he sired me but it takes more then that to be a Sire. He knew that Wil was closer to me then to him and that was something that arrogant Bastard couldn’t accept. His cruelty towards Wil was driving him away and he knew that any day he’d tire of it and we’d leave together. He broke into my lair one night while Wil was there and nearly killed the both of us. He set the lair ablaze and took Wil but he left me to perish and returned to the lair he’d established nearby for Darla, Drusilla, Wil, and himself. Darla must have known what he’d done when she saw the wreck that used to be William. While Angelus was taking care of Wil she slipped out and arrived in time to pull me to safety. She arranged for me to be fostered with her Grandchilde Aaron. Angelus was a very jealous and possessive type even before he was turned and the Demon had just made it worse. He’d long ago forced Darla to send her other Childer away and I found refuge with one of them. She was slain by a Slayer not long after I had recovered and I took over taking care of Aaron and his Childe Erick in her place. We’ve been close ever since.”

 

“Wait I thought that they were Twins but you say Aaron sired Erick… but how they look identical and he shouldn’t have been old enough to turn a Childe yet right?” Xander asks confused.

 

“In most cases you’d be absolutely correct but Aaron… and Erick… are not typical of what usually happens. Aaron was the first turned and within six months he’d found his Brother and the first anyone knew of it, he was presenting his Sire with his own Childe. Yes he should have been much too young to create his own Childe so soon and to this day it is still unclear how he managed it and only that he did.”

 

“As I tried to explain earlier, something of the human can remain in one turned as a Childe. Aaron found and turned his twin Brother, willingly may I add, and I turned my Mother when she was near death from consumption. Sadly she was too pure a soul for such a fate so her Demon was mad from the beginning. I staked her rather then exist knowing that I had created this travesty wearing my Mother’s sweet face. She didn’t suffer and her end was painless and in the end I guess it was a blessing.” Wil says.

 

“Amazing, that is just amazing. I never would have expected anything like that in a million years.” Xander admits. “I sort of pictured you as some sort of a street thug type.” He blushed and looks away.

 

“Is there something else that you wanted to ask?” Wil prompts gently.

 

“Do you… is it too late to help Willow and Buffy?” Xander asks haltingly.

 

“Buffy will in time help herself I believe. She seems more centered than she was when I lived here and that bodes well. She is learning to accept that her life has to be lived here and now and not in the past of that perfect place Willow tore her from. As for Willow, that’s difficult to answer. If she realizes that over-use of magic is wrong and harmful and she wants help then it is absolutely not too late for her. If she continues to hide from that fact and ignore the cost then it will claim her in the end. Magic is a demanding Master and the price it extorts can be great. I can only hope that if she gives into the lure everyone around her will survive it. Keep an eye on Anya, Xander. She may not be a practicing Vengeance Demon any longer by she still harbours a deep well of arcane energy. Rack is gone and I suspect Amy will be making like her former rat self and will have scampered off by now in light of that. Without Tara to fuel her spells of Amy and Rack, Willow may try to turn her attention to another source.” Wil replies.

 

“Well she won’t be paying attention to my Anya!” Xander swears violently.

 

Wil angles his head to look down at Penn and finds his gaze has moved naturally to meet his. Silent communication flies between the depths of the Cerulean seas and the mysterious depths of the Gray. After a few silent seconds Penn’s eyes flicker to land on Xander for a moment then back to Wil’s and he slowly nods his ascent. He reaches into his jacket pocket and hands over a small, leather-bound, pocket sized notebook and hands it to Wil.

 

Wil presses a kiss to his mouth gently as his hand curves around the notebook, accepting it gratefully. He leans back and unclipping the miniature silver-accented black pen that sits in its own pocket, he finds a fresh page. It takes him only a few moments to write down what he wants and he carefully tears the small paper free of its brethren. He caps the pen and slides it back into its pocket with one hand and deftly closes it, leaning with easy grace to set it back into Penn’s jacket pocket and holds the paper out to Xander with his free hand.

 

Xander reaches out and takes the paper, looking down at it. He can’t read the words in the dim light so he shifts over a bit on his bench and angles it towards one of the lantern-shaped light fixtures. He inhales sharply as the words finally reveal themselves. Wil’s provided their address in New Orleans, several phone numbers including some for his cell phone as well and for Penn and Tara and surprisingly enough Dawn. There’s even some email addresses written down as well as what looks like another phone numbers and two lines of numbers and some smaller groups of words and numbers peppering the bottom part of the paper. He furrows his brow with effort but he can’t figure out what they are so he looks up to ask Wil or Penn and freezes.

 

Wil is lying on the bench now, his upper body resting across Penn’s thighs. The laces of his leather waist coat have been undone and the buttons of his dark blue silk shirt have been undone as the pair shares a long slow, mouth-watering kiss. Wil’s hands are sunk deep into Penn’s hair, holding him into the long, drugging kiss. One of Penn’s hands cups Wil’s face but the other rests on his abdomen, his fingertips playing with the piercing thrust through Wil’s belly button. Every few seconds Penn tugs lightly tugs at the rich ring of ancient gold and its tiny dangling charms, causing Wil’s hips to jerk as he arches under the rough and tender touch.

 

Xander is mesmerized by the sight of Penn’s hand against the rippled muscles of Wil’s abdomen. As he’s watching the pair shamelessly sharing their emotions as they’re sharing their bodies, he watches as Penn’s hands shift on Wil’s pliant form and suddenly the younger Vampire is straddling his thighs. Penn’s hands sweep up Wil’s back and around to his chest and the waistcoat and silk shirt start sliding down Wil’s back and arms, baring the impressive musculature of his back to Xander’s eyes. Penn’s hands curve over Wil’s leather-painted rear, yanking him tightly against him as their mouths continue to devour each other. The clearly blatant position brings a gasp to his lips and the surprised looks of the suddenly aware of him Vampires.

 

Wil’s eyes fly open in shock for a second but then lower to shield his eyes as a wicked chuckle from deep inside his chest causes his muscles to ripple and Xander’s breathing to increase. His nose twitches faintly at the sweetly musky scent of human arousal and an enigmatic smile flashes across his lips before he carefully sweeps it away in favour of a feigned look of apology.

 

“Sorry about that Mate, we got a bit carried away.” Wil turns on Penn’s lap and slides over slightly to regain his feet, Penn’s arm sliding around his waist and curving over his hip as his own rests across his shoulders.

 

Xander clears his throat gruffly and ducking his head he sets the paper on the bench and leans over and picks up the discarded shirt and waistcoat and folding them neatly he places them on the bench beside Penn and retreats hurriedly back to his own bench.

 

With William’s chest bared to his gaze, Xander can see that an elaborate tattoo covers his heart. It looks vaguely familiar but it takes him a few moments to remember Buffy describing the tattoo on Angel’s shoulder to him once and that’s what it reminds him of. It’s not identical to the one that Buffy described, having split talons one pointing left and the other to the right. A simple ‘A’ is clutched in one talon while the left bears the remarkable image of a cross, a rather unusual choice for a Vampire but somehow it suits Wil.

 

He tears his eyes away from Wil’s chest, missing the understanding glance exchanged by Penn and Wil as he picks up the paper and holds it up in silent inquiry. “I don’t understand what this stuff is at the bottom….” His voice is roughened by embarrassment.

 

“It’s the numbers, pass codes, and passwords that you’ll need to access the two of our accounts that Wil has listed. Each one houses twenty million dollars and everything that is listed will allow you full access to the funds they contain. The plan was for Dawn to, one day, be an administrator of the accounts to assist the Slayers efforts in doing her job but the Slayer has made her position here untenable. So we are entrusting them to you and your Mate, Anya.”

 

“Anya has a good head for money, I’d suggest you let her have one of the accounts to invest, I expect she’ll double it within a year or two.” Wil suggests. “You can use it to make sure that Buffy can continue to do what she was born to do and to make your lives as comfortable as you can in-between the battles. If you need us we’ll be what help that we can but we will not help her to kill the True Masters of our kind, though we will not mourn for the minions and fledglings of the other Orders or the Bastard lines. If the lives of all are at stake send for us and we’ll come.”

 

“That’s a lot of responsibility you’re placing on my shoulders.” Xander replies nervously.

 

“When Dawn told us that she wanted to live in New Orleans we knew that we’d need someone that we could trust to be fair but honest, someone that could make the decisions for everyone. Wil maintains that the people we can trust are you and your Mate. The elder Watcher is unsuitable even if he should choose to remain here rather then returning to London. The Slayer can manipulate him too easily and while she isn’t unknown to do the same to you, Anya is not so vulnerable. She won’t be able to manipulate the both of you into doing whatever she wants you to. Wil advises me that managing money or even her day to day life isn’t a strong point for the Slayer.”

 

“Well I have to admit that Buffy isn’t very good at the nooks and crannies of living in the real world. She’s all about the punch, kick, stake, and saving people everywhere and not so much about paying the electric bill and all and that stuff.” Xander reveals.

 

“Wil believes that you and Anya can do it and I believe in his judgement.” Penn says with absolute faith as he tightens his arm around Wil’s waist in a hug.

 

Wil tilts his head to the side, sniffing delicately, turning his gaze towards one of the two entrances into the center of the maze. “Dawn is headed this way with Angel and Aaron. There’s another bloke with them, a Demon of some sort but not someone I’m familiar with.” After a moment he starts grinning. “They’re lost, Angel’s got them all turned around. It will take them an hour to find their way here.”

 

The trio share a chuckle before Wil turns his head and makes a soft roaring sound not unlike the cry of a panther and within seconds it’s echoed by twin roars from Aaron and Angel.

 

Penn leans over and grabs nearest bit of Wil’s discarded apparel. He picks up the leather waistcoat and helps Wil back into it, his skilful hands easily re-lacing the petal soft and supple leather. He doesn’t want Angel staring at Wil. It was amusing to see that the young human reacted to Wil but he’s not sure that he could handle seeing such a display from Angel without the urge to kick him into the next century. He looks at Wil and groans, covering his eyes. Without the shirt under the waistcoat he’s only emphasized what he was attempting to conceal from Angel. He drops his hand from his eyes, the first thing he sees is Xander Harris hurriedly blinking out an open-jawed stare and hurriedly looking away from Wil as he jaw snaps shut. He has to chuckle as the young man frantically tries to find something, anything, else to stare at to cover up the fact he was staring at William.

 

Wil just shakes his head with exasperated affection and regains his perch on the railing with an easy leap and a graceful twist of his body. He pulls Penn back into the shelter of his legs and arms as the older Vampire carefully folds his silk shirt into an impossibly small square of fabric and tucks it into an inside pocket of his coat.

 

Within a few minutes grinning Aaron leads an embarrassed-looking Angel, a laughing Dawn and a very strange Demon that bares an uncanny resemblance to a green-skinned Liberace. Everyone has a laugh at Angel’s expense as he almost trips over his own feet when he catches sight of Penn and Wil and even Angel has to laugh at the clumsy, comedic entrance. Dawn hurries over to the pair, jumping onto Penn’s lap and giggling as he snuggles her there quite happily as Wil holds them both. They’re glad to see that Aaron is as thoughtful as usual and Dawn has on an ankle-length coat made of thick warm wool to keep the foggy nights chill away. Penn ensures that will happen by opening his own coat and wrapping the insulating leather around her as best he can, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth as she curls up on his lap as happy as a well-fed kitten.

 

Xander is surprised by Penn’s affectionate and solicitous attitude towards Dawn but he’s not really sure why, you’d think he’d be used to seeing it since William’s always treated her the same way.

 

“Pardon the intrusion, Milords.” Aaron says with a graceful bow of his head. “An associate of Angel’s arrived from LA a little late and would like to join the celebration.” He gestures towards the strange but harmless looking Demon that accompanied them.

 

“You don’t see that many Pylean Demons in this dimension these days.” Penn notes with a faint smile. “Unless I miss my guess, you must be Lorne.” The smile turns into a grin as Angel and the new arrival look shocked and a little spooked. “You are of course welcome to join the celebration.” Dawn makes a kittenish noise and pointedly nudges Penn with her elbow. “Dependant of course on whether you’ve brought the pushy young Miss here a gift that is.” Penn adds with a chuckle as Dawn grins.

 

“Well I most certainly did, Plum Puddin’.” Lorne agrees. “I gave it to that red-haired chilli pepper you have playing guard dog over the gifts. She whisked it off to I don’t know where.”

 

“The dinner service was clearing up the dancing is going to start soon.” Dawn says happily, pinning William under an excited glance. “You’re going to do it right Spike? You promised me remember?” Dawn demands with a grin as the Master Vampire flushes. “You said you’d do it when I turned eighteen and if I stayed in school and got good grades; well my birthday was last month as you know, read the diploma and weep, and smell the 4.0 Vamp-Boy! I want my entertainment!”

 

Xander and Angel stare at Dawn like they’ve never seen her before but Wil and Penn can only chuckle affectionately at the feisty young woman.

 

“Your big sis will fricassee my hide if I song that song Nibblet. Can’t I sing something that won’t make her want to stake me?” Wil tries to appeal to her sense of mercy but he knows it’s futile even as he’s trying it.

 

“I want my song, Spike, you promised.” Dawn states implacably firm in her resolve. “You promised me you’d sing at my graduation and show me what you did in that club on Bourbon Street that made Penn lock you in the bedroom for a week. I did all those things that you asked and I did it so pay up bucko!”

 

Wil chuckles and throws up his hands in surrender. “Fine a promise is a promise but you’d better appreciate this.” He warns in mock-petulance.

 

“I think that I can safely say that every girl in my class, Mother, Sister, Aunt, or Grandma here tonight are going to appreciate it; and yeah some of the men too!” Dawn says happily.

 

Wil groans deep in his chest as he relaxes his back muscles and drops backwards the six feet or so to the ground, landing on his palms and flipping to his feet with easy grace as he stalks towards the other entrance to the center of the maze and vanishes down the hedge lined expanse beyond. Penn, carrying a giggling Dawn cradled in his arms and Aaron follow him in a less showy but no less speedy retreat. They can all hear Penn telling Aaron to tell Grady to make sure he has enough space on his camera for taping and the load groan from Wil that echoes that statement.

 

Surprised, Xander, Angel, and Lorne can only watch them leave when suddenly Angel’s eyes fly open.

 

“GOD-DAMN IT SPIKE! I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT OF HERE!” Angel roars furiously as he realizes they’ve been left behind. Wil’s husky chuckle floats back to them from somewhere in the maze and no doubt probably halfway out already.

 

Muttering darkly about what he’s going to do to Spike when he catches him, Angel strides down the hedge corridor he saw them take with a snickering Lorne and Xander following him and trying not to laugh… too much.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

It’s a very frustrated and exasperated Angel that trudges through the doors from the garden, having finally escaped the maze much to the amusement of Xander and Lorne who have been snickering behind him the whole time.

 

They notice that the majority of the tables have been efficiently removed and the remainder grouped together near the far end of the glass-walled ballroom to create a large dance floor. A stage has been set up and they can see that Wil, Jacob, Tara, Aaron and Erick are on the stage. Wil has a guitar hanging off a wide strap bisecting his chest and he’s tuning it with ease as he laughs and talks quietly with his friends. Tara is standing beside Wil, adjusting the mic stands. Jacob is sitting behind a grand piano playing a quietly lilting classical tune as he smiles and talks quietly with the others. Erick is seated behind a drum kit quietly providing a back beat to Jacob’s song. Aaron has a bass guitar resting on his thighs as he sits on a high stool, strumming a quiet baseline for Jacob’s classical piece.

 

Penn finishes his piece in a soft flurry of notes and Wil steps up to the microphone in front of him, Tara taking the place at the microphone set up next to his. He glances around at his friends receiving a nod from each before turning back to face the crowd that’s started to gather around Penn and Dawn; who are standing in front of the stage. They’ve started realizing that something is going on as Wil quietly taps the microphone, the quiet feedback getting the attention of those that haven’t noticed them yet.

 

“Good evening, my name is William Bradley-Ramsay and my friends and I are here at the request of a very special young woman, Miss Dawn Summers.” Wil smiles down at a beaming Dawn who is almost bouncing in place she’s so excited.

 

“That’s my Brother, isn’t he beautiful?!” Dawn calls out playfully, grinning as her female classmates and more then one female relative cheer their agreement. “He’s taken though!” Dawn calls out, taking Penn’s hand and lifting his arm over his head like the winner of a championship boxing match.

 

Penn grins at the less then subtle shove that sends him hurtling towards the stage but there isn’t a second of fear in his mind as strong arms close around him gentling his forward motion as he knew would happen. A gentle kiss and a nuzzle of their cheeks and Penn makes his way back to Dawn as Wil returns to his microphone amid the sounds of an appreciatively cheering crowd.

 

“I made a promise and tonight my Little Sis kept her end of it so I intend to keep mine. This is for you Bit, happy Graduation, we’re proud of you.” Wil starts strumming the strings of his guitar the others joining him in due course as Tara sways gently next to him.

 

Girl, you'll be a woman soon.....

 

Xander chuckles as the Wil starts to sing and he realizes what song Dawn made him promise to sing and why he just may have thought it was a bad idea.

 

Love you so much

Can't count all the ways

I'd die for you girl

And all they can say is

"He's not your kind"

 

Wil lets his eyes slip closed momentarily the words of the song are a bittersweet remembrance of how most of the Scoobies have treated him in times past.

 

They never get tired

Of puttin' me down

And I never know

When I come around

What I'm gonna find

Don't let them make up your mind

 

Dawn stands up tall, throwing her shoulders back proudly and lifting her chin. She prides herself on not giving into peer pressure from Buffy and the others to treat Spike badly. The only port in the verbal storm was Tara and with Spike, they were the only two that never tried to make her choose sides. She glances over to where Buffy is standing and sees her staring fixedly at Spike and she sighs. It was never a question of choosing sides; it was a question of right and wrong. Spike may not have been an Angel but he’d earned a little trust and acceptance, bought it with his blood on more than one occasion.

 

No one other than maybe Tara has ever understood what Spike was to her during the summer Buffy was… away. She’s never lost her faith in him, knew that when the Hellions were tearing apart the town that she would be protected and safe. She was just as safe from the nightmares that plagued her that summer. It was the first time she heard him singing to her. Sometimes he would read to her from books and she learned the comfort of his voice in those private moments between her foster Brother and herself.

 

Don't you know…?

Girl, you'll be a woman soon

Please, come take my hand

Girl, you'll be a woman soon

Soon you'll need a man

 

Penn bows gallantly and holds out his hand to Dawn with a flourish that would do a courtier of old justice. He leads her to the center of the dance floor, the crowd obligingly clearing to the outskirts of the wooden floor as they swing into a classical waltz that has mouths dropping all around the room.

 

Buffy watches as Dawn waltzes across the floor and back, lead confidently by the suave and elegant elder Master Vampire. She looks so beautiful, graceful, and grown up that Buffy can’t help but feel her heart clench painfully in response. The little girl that she has always known; or believed that she has due to the interference of the monks, has grown into a smart, lovely, and confident young woman.

 

I've been misunderstood

For all of my life

But what they're sayin',

Girl, just cuts like a knife

"The boy's no good"

 

She gasps silently at the words of the song and her eyes jerk to the stage. She’s surprised to see that Spike’s eyes are shut and a lone tear track marks the escape of a single tear from the corner of his eye. Emotional or not, his hands are steady on the strings of the guitar he’s playing so well and his voice is steady and strong, hitting each note with the same effortless grace that he can land a punch with.

 

He is so beautiful in that moment… so pure that she feels a tear drip off her chin before she’s even aware that she’s been crying. Of all her sins, the man singing is probably the greatest of them all. His love may not have been wholly ‘human’ but it had been true and lasting until she destroyed it by destroying the man that felt it.

 

A flurry of activity catches her eye and she sees that Dawn is now waltzing with Xander and Penn is leaning against the stage in front of Spike, looking as proud as any Father watching his daughter’s big day. She realizes that she knows next to nothing about Penn or about how Dawn fits into his life with Spike but it’s clear that he regards her with no small amount of affection.

 

Well, I finally found

What I've been looking for

But if they get the chance,

They'll end it for sure

Sure they would

Baby, I've done all I could

 

Angel watches as Xander hands off the willowy young Dawn to a beaming Giles for his turn waltzing with her. It’s a beautiful idea and it seems that the other Fathers and male relatives agree as other blushing young graduates are lead to the floor to join the glowing Dawn and her succession of handsome dance partners.

 

His eyes turn to the stage and his beautiful boys and his dead heart aches so much he can almost imagine it beating again from the pain. Over a century ago he left them, unwilling to try and share their lives once he was souled, he’s tried to kill them both, and he looked down on them as evil monsters. Looking at them now he knows that he was wrong, he could have had his souls and his boys and now they have each other and he’s the one left behind. It’s looking to be a very cold winter all of a sudden.

 

It's up to you

Girl, you'll be a woman soon

Please, come take my hand

 

Wil sets his guitar aside and leaps nimbly off the stage, his hand raised toward Giles and Dawn. He’s noticed the silent yearning look from a quiet-looking young man towards the back of the crowd. He’s young and fresh-faced and while his looks lend themselves more towards cute then handsome, he looks shyly confident though a little uncertain of his charms. He remembers well that look of shy regard and gentlemanly appreciation.

 

Aaron, Erick, and Jacob combine voices to sing the last chorus of the song as Wil moves through the crowd towards the waltzing Dawn and Giles.

 

Girl, you'll be a woman soon

Soon you'll need a man

Soon you'll need a man.....

 

 Giles seeing Spike motioning spins Dawn into a twirl and directly into his arms and he catches her easily pitching them into a sweeping whirl. Catching her hand in a gentle hold, he spins her down the length of his arm until they’re only connected by their clasped hands. She looks so beautiful with her purple silk dress flowing around her like a cloud of colour. Spike’s dark leather clothing, moonlight pale hair, and handsomeness prove to be an excellent foil for her and they’re breathtaking.

 

The band segues straight into another song, Tara’s voice surprisingly powerful voice washes over them as she sings one of Christine’s arias from Phantom of the Opera like it hasn’t ever been sung before.

 

Their friends are surprised to see Wil escorting Dawn into the crowd of watchers and rather shocked as he stops in front of a young man that bares no small resemblance to a landed fish. He bows in a graceful flourish kissing the back of Dawn’s knuckles before holding out their joined hands to the young man, who steps forward with a blush to take Dawn’s hand. He tries to copy Wil’s bow but he’s not quite as poised but the effect is charming and touching and Wil pats his shoulder approvingly, motioning towards the dance floor. He follows the pair back and laughs as Penn sweeps him into a bear hug that lifts him right off his feet, spinning him around happily.

 

From separate corners of the room Angel and Buffy watch as Penn relaxes his arms and lets Wil slide slowly down his body until his feet slowly touch the floor. They remain locked tightly together, body pressing close but never close enough as they sway to the music of Tara’s amazing voice. They look so right together and they’ve never hated them more than at that moment. How could they manage to find the belonging and the acceptance… and the love… that has eluded them when they don’t even have souls? The pair watches as Wil dances happily in the possessively protective embrace of his Sire and Mate oblivious to the outside world. He was theirs and they threw their chance away and by the looks of it they’re never going to get a second chance.

 

A movement from the corner of his eye gets Angel’s attention as Ravali silently and nimbly sweeps her way into the crowd a serious and grave expression on her face. She makes her way to Penn and Wil and the trio talk quietly for several seconds, the dancers stopping as their expressions sober and their postures radiate tension. He’s positive that he’s read the situation right as Wil heads for Dawn and leads her away from her dance partner to whisper quietly. Whatever he’s saying but be serious as Dawn throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly and he has a little trouble getting her back into the arms of her patiently waiting partner and out of his. Penn motions to Tara and the band on the stage and they finish up their seat and quickly file off the stage, Aaron stopping to pack up his guitar and Wil’s before hopping down carefully.

 

The house band quickly takes their place as Wil joins Penn and Ravali in a quick but orderly departure from the room, motioning to Faith, Lilia, and Genevra, Grady, and Ethan then back towards Dawn. The quintet nod their understanding and make no move to leave and follow the others, their orders are clear, they’ll remain behind to look after Dawn and the others.

 

Angel follows after the departing group, dragging his own friends after him as they realize something must be going on, in turn grabbing the Sunnydale alumni’s attention as well. They find the Aurelians clustered closely together, talking animatedly in one of the side lounges.

 

“What’s going on?” Angel demands without preamble.

 

“The Jabari are issuing a challenge for our control of the Hellmouth. They attacked an Aurelius lair in Colton, the next town over, and four Neonates and a Childe were killed along with four donor-servitors. They’ve heard that the Masters are in personal attendance and they have issued a formal declaration of challenge.” Ravali reveals, her eyes flashing with hatred.

 

Penn straightens and pulls Wil against his side. “Aaron, Erick, Wil, and myself will answer the challenge. While we’re facing the Bastard-blood, Tara, Ravali, take the others and get our lair back and see if there are any survivors left to help.”

 

Wil’s eyes flash with a dangerously feral light. “Four lives for every Neonate, six for the Childe, and two for each of the Humans.” He orders with a growl. “We’ll take care of the bastards that ordered the attack. The Jabari will regret their actions of this night.”

 

“I’ll stay here.” Jacob announces. “If this is a ruse to distract us while they try out-flanking us to reach the Hellmouth, they won’t get past me I promise you.” From the obvious confidence in his voice, they’re all positive that he’ll be able to do it. “I can get you there as well. Ravali will let me know when it’s time to bring you back. You know the drill guys.” And it’s clear that they do as they instantly draw closer together in a tight group, linking arms.

 

“We’ll take care of her old friend.” Penn promises.

 

“And she will take care of you too.” Jacob says with a smile.

 

There’s more than one surprised expression as Anya and Xander share a glance then wiggle their way into the mass of Vampires, silently declaring their intent to go along.

 

“Anya, Harris, where do you think that you’re going?” Wil asks with a furrowed brow.

 

“We’re going to help a friend, Wil.” Xander replies with a quiet maturity that garners him several surprised glances, even from his friends. Only Anya, Wil, and Penn don’t seem surprised.

 

It’s like a rifle shot has gone off though as Angel, Wes, Giles, Gunn, Buffy, and Cordelia also muscle their way into the tightly grouped Vampires in a semi-controlled stampede.

 

“Wait what do we do about weapons?” Giles calls out as he realizes that none of them seem to be armed for the coming conflict. Almost in perfect unison all the Vampires, Angel, and Gunn produce stakes that they somehow managed to conceal despite being dressed for a formal evening. They hand over the stakes to the unarmed.

 

“What about you?” Xander asks, taking the stake Wil holds out for him. “You’re unarmed now.”

 

Wil’s features ripple to their Demon guise, smiling to flash his fangs and curving his fingers inward to display his claw like nails. “We’re never unarmed.” His features ripple back to their Human countenance and Xander nods with a small grin, sliding his arm around Wil’s bicep as Penn is doing on his other side.

 

Penn glances around, pleased to see that his Order has reacted seamlessly to the additional people and have shuffled their position so that each Human is bracketed by two of them. He almost chuckles at the sight of Angel being almost dwarfed by Aaron and Erick as they bracket him between them. Despite Angel’s impressive build the twins are almost six inches taller and nearly that much wider. They been truly impressive specimens of humanity and have become even more so in their transformation into vampires. Nodding, satisfied he searches out Jacob’s gaze and nods once tersely.

 

Jacob backs up and making sure that anyone not going is clear before a flurry of gestures and a lyrical invocation sends the group winging on their way to Colton in an explosion of multicoloured energy. He sees a straight-backed chair, thick and lushly padded and he’s seated, falling into a light trance, as he frees his instincts, allowing his consciousness to merge into the wellspring of energy that flood the eldritch environment that sheathes the Hellmouth. If the Jabari get past the others, they shall not pass him.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

They arrive safely in a deserted park in Colton, and the Vampires immediately explode into motion. Penn leads Wil, Aaron, and Erick into the night without hesitation as Angel, Buffy, Giles, and Wes scramble to follow them. Ravali rallies the remaining people and they head in the opposite direction to retake the lair and see if there is anyone left to save. Xander starts to follow Anya, who is following Ravali’s group when he suddenly takes her hand and spinning her around points them after the departing Penn’s group, jogging to catch up.

 

“We’re going to be fighting an Order challenge. For those of you who aren’t aware of what that it is, the Jabari Order will select their champions, typically four are chosen.” Penn begins to explain. “If this were a challenge in Jabari’s main territory, the Master of the Order would be one of the Champions but this far from their home Chantry we’ll likely be facing lower ranked Masters. They’ll be strong, possibly the Childer of the Master of their Order, they wouldn’t have challenged us if they weren’t strong enough to think they could win. The Eldest, The Masters of the Orders usually, do not fight first.”

 

“Each Order chooses a Champion, it is always a Master and typically it is the Childe of the eldest Master Vampire of the Order that is present at the time. William will fight first. He’ll win of course. The challenging Order may then either withdraw the challenge in which case we have the right to the forfeit of our choice. If they persist then Aaron will fight and then Erick after him; they too will win. If the Jabari still persist then I will their Elder in combat and I will win and their forfeit will be dire indeed for challenging us.” Penn continues to explain.

 

“Why would the Jabari dare this?” Angel demands. “They are Bastard Blood; there was a time when they would never dare to face purebloods.”

 

“You have been Human for too long Angel.” Penn says flatly.

 

“There are only six Pure-bred Orders left.” Wil’s voice is quiet and grave and Angel flinches in reaction to his words. “Only the Aurelius, Baran, Cornelius, Geovesse, Navarro, and Vladimir Order exist in any sizable numbers. The Tepes, Jomei, Alucard, and Damaris have less than six Masters between them all and only two of them have but a single Childe each, they will be extinct within the century if something doesn’t change for them.”

 

“The Vicente, Radames, Jabari, and Sljenko Orders have been usurped by Bastard-bloods and the Bastard-Bloods have formed six new Orders, the Toshiro, Xiomar, Rhys, Ryker, Quillan, and Pericles Orders.” Aaron lists.

 

“Overall the six Pure-blood Orders that have united under a flag of truce are strong enough to hold back the others. As you can see though, they’re growing bolder, believing that their superior numbers will be able to overwhelm us.” Erick chimes in with.

 

“We’ve never been allied with all the Pure-blood Orders.” Angel breathes in amazement.

 

“Times have a way of changing Angel.” Penn says stoically. “Get ready Beloved, they’re nearby.” Penn stops where he is, looking around at a suitable large clearing. It will do for the confrontation to come. Wil, Aaron, and Erick gather around him as Angel carefully herds everyone else some distance away, telling them that they can’t interfere and that they’ll strictly be observers to what is to come.

 

Wil’s hands go to the laces of his waistcoat, a nimble fluttering of his fingertips parting the laces with easy grace. He peels the leather away from his skin, handing it back to Erick, who flips it over his forearm after folding it neatly. His hands find the hidden catch of the collar around his throat and it opens with a nearly silent click and he pulls it away and hands it to Penn who clasps it around his own throat.

 

Angel can’t help the startled breath he’s forced to draw in as the absence of the collar and the waistcoat reveal some of Spike’s new adornments. The tattoo of their Order, albeit modified, rests fittingly over his stilled heart. He can see some slight imperfections in the design and he knows that the tattoo is placed where it is for a reason, rather then on the back of his shoulder blade where it is most typically worn. It’s covering the scar left by Riley’s torture no doubt.

 

The glint of metal draws his eyes to the washboard planes of Spike’s rippled stomach betraying the presence of his navel ring and its small charms. The darkness of the mid-winter night can’t hide the shadow of black tracings encircling Spike’s throat. A simply elegant circle of dark lines hugs his throat, the faintly Celtic design of intricate knots and swirls, has been tattooed directly to his skin. The meaning of that deceptively simple tattoo is clear to him, as it would be to anyone that knew what it was to possess someone utterly; with or without a collar Spike belongs to Penn and it is a very willing captivity.

 

No force on this plane of existence or any other would have seen Spike submitting to such a claiming unless it was by his choice. He should know he once tried to force him to do that very thing and failed. By the end of that hellish month of screams and blood soaked nightmares he knew that he would have to kill Spike to claim him against his will. He raged for months after that failure to force him to his will and at last the desire was lost beneath a Gypsy curse and a century of guilt. He bites back the growl he can feel wanting to claw its way up from his belly at the sight of those marks, of Penn’s victory in light of his abject failure.

 

Angel watches as Spike stretches under Penn’s watchful gaze, the muscles flexing under the suede-like perfection of his skin with liquid fluidity that is equal parts deadly competence and breathtaking sensuality. Spike has always possessed a unique lithely muscled form that manages to be both sleek and powerful at the same time. If function were to dictate form then Spike is the most beautiful and deadly man, Vampire, or Demon he’s ever seen in his inhumanly long life.

 

His gaze switches to Penn, who is hovering protectively close to Spike, as he stretches with agile grace and prepares to defend their Order. They are such a study in contrasts, they always have been but the differences only reinforce how amazing these deadliest of his Childer are. Light, where one is dark, shorter where one is taller, graceful where one is powerful, and one is wild and free spirited while the other is patient and settled.

 

There are his perfectly matched set, each of them chosen for separate but complimentary reasons to suit their Sire. He watches as Penn stiffens subtly and an almost imperceptible fluttering of his fingertips, brings Spike to his side. Spike turns to lean against Penn’s side, slipping one arm around his waist as his free hand lifts to press against his palm against his chest. Penn’s arm slides around Spike’s waist, his palm curving possessively over the leather painted rear that fits so perfectly in his hold.

 

 Angel’s eyes narrow and while he cannot sense them yet he knows that the Jabari must be very close now. He spares a moment’s regret for the fact that he has distanced himself so much from his Vampire nature that his Childer are more of a Vampire then he is. The sound of Penn’s voice draws his attention back to the sensual pair of embracing Vampires.

 

“I want you to make a show of it, Beloved. We must make an example of these Jabari; there can be no question that we hold the Hellmouth firmly under our control. Any sign of vulnerability or weakness and the other Bastard-Orders will swarm the Hellmouth like locusts.” Penn sinks his fingers into Wil’s thick hair and strokes the alabaster strands absentmindedly, turning his head to press a kiss to Wil’s temple and a smile brightens his features as his Childe purrs contentedly.

 

 “There.” Wil says quietly, nodding cunningly towards a copse of trees some distance away. “They’ve been watching us for a while now, probably trying to figure out why we have a Slayer and a bunch of Humans with us.” He surmises.

 

Penn’s smile turns chillingly cold. “We’ve waited long enough.” He releases Wil and his Childe instantly moves away a shoulder length, Aaron falling in on his left and Erick falling in on Penn’s right.

 

The four Vampires move forward in unison and stop several feet from the rest of their group, whom Angel is keeping corralled well back. Angel watches as Spike leaves the line to stalk to the center of a large clearing and shivers as his Childe’s roar reverberates through the night air.

 

The roar is immediately answered and echoed as a large powerful form explodes out of the tree line and hurtles toward a grinning Spike and Angel sucks in an anxious breath. Spike crouches and leaps using the charging Vampire’s shoulders as a springboard, deflecting his body into a twist and landing lightly safely on the other side of the Vampire. Bracing his palm he turns his body into a low spin, one boot planted as a fulcrum and the other sweeping out to knock the rhino-like vampire he’s fighting off his feet. He lets the momentum of the spin carry him back up to his feet and he back springs away several feet landing in a defensive crouch.

 

For the next several minutes Spike plays with the much larger Vampire like a cat with a mouse but like that primordial game of survival, eventually the conclusion is a foregone one and he strikes with swift viciousness. He easily leaps the ten foot separation between himself and the circling Vampire, the tackle forcing the much larger Jabari onto his back.

 

Angel watches as Spike pins the squirming male expertly, hissing as his features shift to their Demon form. He grins, revealing his wickedly sharp ivory fangs in the few seconds before he pounces and buries his fangs in the screaming Vampire’s throat as he trashes wildly and tries to push the tenacious Blonde away from his throat.

 

There is a collectively indrawn breath as the large Vampire’s screams turn to hungry moaning and his twitching becomes passionate writhing within seconds. Spike wrenches his fangs free and lifts his head but they all watch in stunned amazement as the larger Vampire sinks his hands into Spike’s hair and yanks his face back against his neck, forcing Spike’s fangs back into his own throat! His fervour to escape becomes an utter disregard for survival as he presses into Spike, crying out and arching upward in ecstasy only to collapse into dust beneath Spike in milliseconds, amid the pained cries of his Order-mates. Spike crouches amidst the dusty remains for a second in a debauched preening crouch as his tongue curves and twists around his fangs cleaning off the lingering traces of scarlet lifeblood. Spike roars again, signalling his victory, the cry swiftly picked up and echoed by his Order-mates including Angel, to no few startled looks by the humans and Slayer he’s keeping corralled.  As the cries fade Spike rises with calm assurances and regal grace with the liquid sensuality and smooth twitch of silken skin-covered steel-corded muscle that defines his lithe form.

 

He slowly and deliberately turns his back to the rival Vampires, silently signalling that he considers them no threat and he lifts a hand towards Aaron, turning it palm up and fanning his fingers inward, calling the much larger Master Vampire from the ranks.

 

Aaron pauses to acknowledge Wil by tipping his head to the side and baring his throat with a soft thrumming purr, which is answered and mirrored by Wil as they pass each other. Aaron takes his place at the center of the clearing as Wil returns to Penn and Erick.

 

All eyes are on the trio as Penn replaces the collar around Wil’s throat and Erick holds up his waistcoat for him to slip into, lacing it up for him with smooth practiced motions. Penn flicks open his coat and in the blink of an eye Wil is nestled against his side and chest. The generous cut of Penn’s coat jacket settles easily around them both but they are oblivious to the warmth of the leather as their mouths seek a more intimate communion. The carnally exhibitionist kiss gentles within seconds and they turn their attention to where Aaron is calmly waiting.

 

Penn calls out something in a lyrical, almost musical sounding, language that none of them understand, except for the Vampires, and seemingly Anya, that is. An answer echoes from the shelter of the trees in the same delicate sounding language and this time it’s Wil that calls back the answer with fluent grace.

 

“Angel, what language is that? It sounds like Vampiric but I don’t recognize the particular dialect they’re using. What are they saying?” Giles whispers urgently, tugging on the back of Angel’s coat to get his attention.

 

“It’s the language of the Kir’a’vasia.” Angel replies, looking shocked that Giles had to ask, his eyes widening as the confusion doesn’t clear up from Giles face or Wesley’s for that matter. “It is the ‘First Language’ of our kind, the most ancient of the dialects that we all share.”

 

“They’re speaking in Vampiric Giles, the true Vampiric language, not the ones used openly around mixed species but the heart of all that they are.” Anya bites out in frustration, sounding faintly disgusted. “How can you be Watchers and not know Kir’a’vasia? It’s the language that all Vampiric Demons speak and the basis of many of the ancient Demon Dialects as well.”

 

“I had no idea that Spike spoke other languages… well there was that time that Ethan turned me into a….” Giles pulls his glasses off and cleans them thoroughly before replacing them.

 

“Wil speaks over thirty languages counting the Human languages he’s fluent in. He’s conversant in probably that many more and is able to read still more than he can speak. William has always had a talent for languages, it would have helped him in his later career if Dru hadn’t found him first.” Angel replies quietly. “All Vampires speak Kir’a’vasia though and any Demon of any significant age has at least a working knowledge of it.”

 

“What career? Spike had a career?” Buffy stammers out.

 

“William was months from finishing his medical degree at Oxford when Dru took his life. He was a gentleman and a gentle man who liked poetry and loved his Mother so much that the love survived his turning. They think that I don’t know but I know.” Angel says quietly, sending a yearning look towards Spike, still wrapped up in his new Sire’s arms and coat. Movement from the copse of trees across the clearing draws his eyes. He watches as a trio of Vampires emerges from the trees and walks forward, their heads lowered and their hands behind their back. They are submitting to the strength of the stronger Order.

 

“Good lord, Spike was going to be a doctor.” Giles mutters and Wes looks shocked.

 

“He put the knowledge to good use thanks to Angelus, to me.” Angel mutters thickly.

 

No one needs to ask Angel for details, they can only imagine how dangerous a Vampire with an expert knowledge of the Human body and anatomy can be and their estimation of just how much they’ve underestimated Spike rises dramatically.

 

“Why did that other Vampire guy do that… thing?” Xander asks after clearing his throat.

 

A strange unholy light enters Angel’s eyes and the smile that curves his mouth upward is equal parts amused and wicked. The expression is a little too close to Angelus-like for their comfort and there is almost a collective step back and only Xander and Anya hold their spots.

 

“William has certain… gifts… due to the type of Vampire he is.” Angel replies, looking over his shoulder at them with a grin.

 

“What do you mean the type of Vampire that he is? There are types of Vampires?” Xander asks confused.

 

Understanding dawns on Anya’s features. “Of course, I should have realized it. Spike is a Seducer isn’t he? I’m not sure why I thought he must be a Warrior.” She says matter-of-factly.

 

“A seducer… Warrior… what are you talking about?” Xander’s brow furrows in confusion.

 

“Spike, William, is rather unique in that he is both. Drusilla is my Childe and while she didn’t inherit the Warrior gifts they were carried in her blood, enough at least to pass in course to her Childe. Darla was a Seducer also and as she was my Sire, so my blood carries her gift as well, which Drusilla also inherited. William inherited both gifts but Angelus, I, chose to train him only as a Warrior. I wanted him to be mine in every way that there was. After I was souled and left, I suspect that Darla trained William to use his seducer gift as a way of getting back at Angelus, at me.” Angel replies, his eyes still locked on his boys.

 

“Wha… whaaaa… what are you talking about?” Xander stammers.

 

Angel and Anya turn matching expressions of surprise on Xander and then beyond him to Giles and Wesley, both of whom also look more than a little confused.

 

“You really don’t know that much about us do you.” Angel realizes in amazement. “How you have managed to survive is a complete mystery to me.” He shakes his head in amazement. “I suppose I should tell you something, if only to prevent you killing yourselves with a lot of stupid assumptions.” Angel sighs fatalistically.

 

He keeps a close watch on his boys, his eyes never straying as they negotiate the terms of the Jabari surrender. “Vampires are as diverse as your own species, while you’re all human you do further classify yourselves, by nationality, ethnicity, and other factors. It’s the same with Vampires, while we all share certain traits and weaknesses that make us Vampires, we also have gifts, strengths, and other things that further classify us within our species, Order, and even within Bloodlines.” Angel explains, sounding rather distracted. “The Aurelius Order is one of the most ancient, established at some point during the height of the Roman Empire. Our line boasted nearly every Vampiric gift that it was possible to manifest as we absorbed smaller Orders, made alliances, and carried out our various vendettas. We are primarily known as a Warrior Order and that sounds pretty much like what it is. Few Orders could match us Master for Master when it comes to fighting. There are some instances of the Thrall gift manifesting in Masters of our line. They are rare, as are the Enchanters and the Psychics who possess an affinity for magic or for various mental talents, who are much more numerous in other Orders. The Alucard Order for instance was known for their Enchanters, marvellous wizards and sorceresses capable of astonishing feats of magic and the Tepes Order is still known for having members very gifted with the Thrall.”

 

Angel glances at Xander and hides a grin. “You’ve had some experience with them from what Buffy’s told me.” Xander looks very confused. “That pitiful excuse for a Vampire that likes to pretend he’s Dracula is a member of that Order.”

 

Xander looks vaguely nauseous for a few seconds and then he looks relieved. “That wasn’t the Dracula then?” He asks with sigh of relief.

 

Angel can’t help but laugh. “Well yes and no. He was a Dracula but he wasn’t the Dracula no. The Master of their Order, the one history would came to call Vlad Tepes, has not been seen in centuries. Some believe that he sleeps hidden away somewhere in the world for the day that Humanity’s reign is over and Demons once more rule all that there is. The stories tell that there are several such ‘sleeping’ Ancients, including Marcus Aurelius, but there is no one Demon still in existence that is said to have met them personally. Whether it is true or false their myth persists to this day and those Orders that still bear their names are taught to believe that they will return one day.”

 

Abandoning any pretence that he hasn’t been listening avidly Giles can’t help but ask a question. “And what do you believe? Are there any of the ancients left?”

 

“I am a Master, once ‘THE’ Master of, Aurelius, out of Marcus Aurelius, progenitor of one of the most powerful Vampiric Orders.” Angel enunciates slowly, as though talking to a small child, making it very clear that he considers that question a pointless and stupid one.

 

Giles clears his throat gruffly and wisely steps back and letting Angel’s very intentional slight to his intelligence pass without remark.

 

“So what flavour of frosty blonde Vampsicle is Spike?” Xander asks curiously. “Some sort of Seducer type Vampire huh? What can they do?”

 

A wicked light glints in Angel’s eyes as he steps closer to Xander, well inside his personal space and the young man draws in a breath sharply at his proximity. Neither of them notices as Giles and the others surge forward in a collective wave wanting to know the answer to Xander’s question as much as he does.

 

Angel moves smoothly until his fingertip and trace Xander’s strong jaw with a gently sweeping motion. “His kind; they are the rarest of all the gifted breeds, less than one hundred have ever been known to exist in all of our recorded history. It is said that they are somehow the result of every Vampiric gift manifesting in single individual but others believe them to be a mystical fusion of Vampire and the Succubae Demon. Really none of us know what they are and how they came to be what they are but oh how we relish what they can do Human.” A subtle brogue roughens Angel’s voice slightly and the almost imperceptible hissing sound to his words is explained as his smile reveals just the trace of his fangs.

 

“And what is it that they can do?” Xander bites back a groan as he asks and Angel’s smile widen until he can see the sharp ivory fangs just lying against his bottom lip.

 

“You’ve seen what he can do.” Angel notes amused as he finally notices that the others have closed around them to eavesdrop. “For most Vampires the bite is a moment of ecstasy that eclipses almost any other… yes even that intimate moment between lovers can sometimes pale in comparison. For the one being bitten the pain is exquisite and if the Vampire is old and experienced enough they can make it a very sexually pleasant experience once the pain passes for the one being bitten.” He almost chuckles as he sees Buffy blush madly and look away hurriedly.

 

“William can make his bite pleasurable from the beginning and it is rapture beyond anything that you have ever known or could ever imagine that your body could feel. You saw what that Jabari did to keep the pleasure William was giving him. He gave up his life to him, just to know that feeling for one moment longer. He gave his existence for William; do you understand just what fools you’ve been now?”

 

The clueless looks on their faces brings a growl rumbling out of his chest and he almost grins as they all take an instinctual step back. “I am surrounded by children, clueless children.” He mutters in exasperation. “His bite doesn’t hurt.” He enunciates slowly, using little words and then waits.

 

Anya looks at everyone expectantly but the confused looks finally make her explode. “Come on, people! His bite doesn’t hurt, it feels GOOD. Don’t you get it yet?! Oh someone save me from having to be the baby-sitter for you people! No pain means chip firing!” The light finally dawns on their faces. “That’s right, now you get it, he could have bitten us at any time and he chose not to. He could have done any of a dozen things to get rid of us if he’d actually wanted us dead. I don’t know why he came to us for help and why he let us believe that we needed it but we should be thankful that he did. If it wasn’t for Dawn….”

 

“And for you too, Anya; I think he seems strangely fond of Xander too.” Angel adds.

 

Anya smiles gratefully. “Alright for us then, he wouldn’t have been here to help us against Glory and we’d all be dead. He’s all that stands between us, well most of you since I think we’d be spared, and Penn. You’ve hurt his Childe and his Mate and count yourselves lucky that you’re still alive.” Giles and the others all look spooked as Anya turns to Angel. “You may want to say a few thank-you mantras yourself that for whatever reason they decided to spare you and your friends too.” She smiles in pleasure as Angel flinches involuntarily at being reminded that his status too is far from assured at this stage.

 

“Hey what’s going on over there?” Xander asks, pointing over to the other Vampires.

 

Everyone turns to look and some eyes widen at the sight of one of the Vampires kneeling in front of Spike, seemingly begging for something.

 

Angel looks on sadly as he realizes what he’s seeing. “That is the Sire of the Childe that Spike… claimed. He’s asking Spike to take him also, so that he can join his Childe in whatever fate lies beyond for our kind.” He says quietly, almost in a whisper, unwilling to disturb this somber event.

 

“He wants to die because the other one did?” Buffy asks huskily, her voice choked up.

 

“He’s lost his Childe, his only one if I had to guess, and it’s not unusual for Sires to suicide at the death of their Childer. It’s fairly common especially if they have only one or it is their favourite Childe.” Angel looks at Buffy sadly, sighing sombrely.

 

“You are the longest lived Slayer in history and you still have learned so little about us? You may have named us monsters but and here’s a shock for you, it takes more then your opinion to label what and who we are. Monsters you may have named us but that doesn’t make us what we are. We are the Kir’a’vasia and we need no Human or Slayer to give us any other name.” Angel says proudly, watching as his boy grants the Jabari’s request and grants him the final death he seeks on the same orgasmic rush that heralded his Childe’s end.

 

The moment is one of eloquent surrender and respect as the old Master gives up his existence so it’s all the more shocking when the remaining two Jabari Vampires attack Spike even as the Master collapses to dust at his feet! The stakes never find their mark though as Penn throws his body over his Childe, roaring in pain as the stakes rip through him rather than his precious Childe sheltered under him.

 

Wil curses flips quickly onto his back and catching Penn as he collapses unconscious on top of him and rolls them out of the way in an acrobatic manoeuvre that barrels the Jabari over as they’re combined momentum takes their feet out from under them.

 

“Kill them all.” Wil orders and the Twins leap into a battle that is bloody but brief as he cradles Penn. He looks up at Angel and then Anya is suddenly there, helping him to check Penn’s injuries. Thankfully neither stake trespassed too close to his heart but his injuries are still severe, He lays Penn down carefully and works one of the stakes free and grimaces as he notes the bubbling white froth surrounding the wound and the obscene sight of tiny wooden splinters infecting his flesh.

 

“They soaked the stakes in holy water and they splintered.” He growls menacingly, carefully picking up Penn and howling sharply, the agonized sound equal parts fury and pain.

 

They’re startled as Tara appears in an explosion of green energy, Ravali at her side, both running to the openly crying Wil and the unconscious Penn. The women snap into action without pause, taking Penn from Wil and carrying them between them to a nearby decorative fountain. Ravali cups her hands and uses them to pick up water to carefully flush the holy water from the wounds as Tara uses her hands to direct the flow of water, loosening and carrying the deadly splinters away as the wounds are irrigated.

 

“They aren’t minor injuries but he’s not in serious danger.” Tara says quietly, reassuring a nervously hovering Wil. “We’ll need to make sure all the splinters are cleared out but fortunately the holy water’s effects are minimal thanks to the changes in your diet. He’ll be alright in an hour or two but I don’t want him to go back to the Country Club, I think that he should rest.”

 

“Take the Masters to our Lair, Milady. He will need to have both of you near if he is to relax and rest and heal his injuries. The boys and I will stay and attend to the Jabari and then return to Jacob.” Ravali decides, using the knee length drape of silk that is folded artfully over her hair and shoulders to form a cowl, to bind Penn’s wounds.

 

“I want them exterminated Ravali. They’ve broken the challenge laws and we will claim their lives as forfeit for their treachery. If they surrender, allow them to live and have them confined. They will be held until their Order makes recompense to ours for their actions.” Wil orders in an angry growl. He is tender and careful as he eases Penn back into his arms, cradling his larger Sire with an easy strength that makes for a poignant image. “Tara, can you open a portal?”

 

Tara strokes his cheek silently for several moments, her eyes slipping closed and a gentle smile blooms as she feels him nuzzling into her touch with a nearly silent purr of acceptance. She opens her eyes to reveal that they are solid orbs of green energy pulsing rhythmically as though echoing her heartbeat. 

 

She nods, ready and prepared, and moves some distance away before she makes a small dance like motion as she gestures and intones a chant under her breath. Tendrils of crackling and glowing green energy thrust out of the ground, thickening and weaving together until a large oval portal is formed, pulsing with bursts of eldritch power. Both Wes and Giles look very impressed and more then a little surprised.

 

“Tara, how are you sustaining that spell?” Giles asks curiously as he notes Tara is showing no signs of strain despite having opened two portals in fairly quick succession.

 

“I’m not maintaining it Giles, my familiar is providing the strength to sustain it. I’m only focusing and directing the energy to give it form and purpose.” Tara’s voice echoes eerily.

 

Giles and Wes start looking around. “Where is your familiar?” Their eyes immediately fall on Ravali and they widen comically. “You’re familiar is a Rakshasi?!” They exclaim together.

 

“Why would you assume that?” Tara asks amused by their surprising assumptions and naiveté.

 

 “Well it’s conceivable that a familiar casting spell….” Giles starts to say but lets his voice trail off in confusion as Tara, Ravali, and Spike chuckle and shake their heads in exasperation.

 

The reason for their chuckle is more then apparent as Spike turns to face them, Penn cradled in his arms as securely as a Father carrying their child. Despite Penn being physically the larger and more muscular of the pair, he looks somehow delicate being carried by Spike so easily but that isn’t what has Giles sucking in his breath sharply. Spike’s visage has shifted to its Demon guise but his features strangely retain much more of his human aspect then they’ve seen in any other Vampire. Without the rush and furore of the fight and in calmer circumstances they can see the differences.

 

The very pronounced forehead ridges are absent, his eyes have changed dramatically, taking on the faintly luminous amber colour common to Vampires but the cat-like vertically slit pupils are unique. His features are much the same, from the sharply cut cheekbones and full lips and the strong and chiselled jaw. The razor points of his interlocking fangs; the upper fitting neatly inside the lower pair; dimples his lips slightly creating a strange amalgam of Human, Vampire, and Feline aspects. It’s the glowing rune pulsing with green energy that is the most significant change.

 

“Ravali is bound to Jacob as his familiar. It’s how they met and how he came first came to understand the potential of the Aurelius Order. When it was my turn to seek my focus, no one was more surprised than I was when Wil’s Demon answered the summons.” Tara reveals.

 

“You’ve bound SPIKE as your familiar? A Witch hasn’t bound to a Vampire in millennia uncounted.” Giles breathes in amazement. “How did you do this? Only the strongest have ever done what you have Tara and it should have been beyond your abilities for many years.”

 

“You haven’t been listening have you Human?” Ravali says with the disgust clear in her voice. “Take the Masters to safety Milady. I will attend to this one’s inane questions. Erick, attend your duties.” Ravali says decisively and Wil carries Penn towards the glowing portal as Erick moves smoothly past them and through the portal.

 

Tara pauses as she moves to follow and on impulse she gestures to Xander and Anya and motions towards the portal. Anya gives a happy squeal and grabbing Xander’s hand dives fearlessly through the crackling energy pulling an unresisting Xander in after her. Wil pauses at the event horizon waiting for Tara to join him before stepping through with his precious burden.

 

“Wait, please.” Angel says urgently. “Take me too? Please I really need to go.” His tone is earnest and sincere as is the concern on his face.

 

Tara’s eyes widen in surprise as she looks at Wil in silent inquiry. After a few seconds he nods slowly and she turns to Angel and nods her permission. He strides fearlessly through the portal. Wes tries to dart after him but a snarl from Spike and the other Vampires sends him stumbling back into Giles, nearly tumbling them both to the ground. In the ensuing chaos Wil and Tara step through the portal and it immediately pulses brightly before dissolving in a shower of colourful sparkles. It is a more than fitting fanfare for their departure.

 

Ravali rounds on Giles and Wes and they scramble backward, gaining courage only once they’re behind Buffy.

 

“You shouldn’t stand in judgement of things you do not understand.” She states in a tone that clearly implies a warning. “Aaron, please attend to the Jabari as the Young Master requested.” Aaron smiles and kissed Ravali on the cheek with obvious affection and walks off into the night without a word.

 

The weight of Ravali’s gaze falls back on them and Giles stiffens his back to avoid flinching. He can feel more then see Wes doing the same thing as he stands beside him.

 

Ravali takes a deep breath as she gathers the silken folds of her Sari around her gracefully and sighs wearily as she sits on the edge of the fountain. “You have questions that you may ask now.”

 

“How did Tara end up with Spike of all people as her familiar?” Giles demands.

 

“I have a better question. What the hell is a familiar and why does Tara need one?” Buffy demands with a scowl.

 

Wesley just taps his foot and looks irritated, still bound by Tara’s spell to speak no ill-will.

 

“A familiar is usually an animal, or much more rarely it can be something….” Ravali scowls darkly at Giles use of that derogatory comment and he abruptly corrects himself. “…Or I mean someone of supernatural or magical origin. They enable their partners to tap into a ready source of mystical or life energy that they can then convert to fuel their magical spells. Someone that practices magic can only progress just so far in their development alone. To achieve mastery they must develop to a certain stage and then on the night of a new moon, when it’s at its pinnacle, they must cast a very special spell. It is said that for every magic-born there is one destined to serve as their familiar and that when the spell is cast properly and if they are worthy, they will be called.” Giles explains, sounding superior. “The spell binds the familiar to that Magician for all of their existence. It is a relationship so close that the death of one can cause the death of the other.”

 

“As with most things the Watchers know, that is both partially correct and confused and at the same time incorrect and utter fiction.” Ravali denounces. “It is true that the working of magic is in some ways easier with a familiar and it is all but unknown for one to be strong enough to achieve mastery of the craft without one yet it is possible. My Jacob is such a man. He was a Master of the craft before the spell that called to me and the Young Mistress spoke the truth in that it was how we came to meet. The spell however is much different then you have said Watcher, as a Familiar, I can assure you of that much.” Ravali informs them. “The spell merely ‘calls’ it does not force or in any way bind the one or sometimes more then one that responds to it.”

 

“Can you tell what or who the spell is going to call?” Buffy asks, genuinely interested, despite the nagging feeling of jealousy that’s been nipping at her sharply all night over Spike’s moving on.

 

“Sometimes if they are sensitive they can tell when they’ve met the one they’ll eventually call. I think Tara has always known that Spike had some important part to play in her life from the moment she met the Young Master. She is a very intuitive woman, well in-tune with herself.” Ravali decides after a minute of thinking about it. “Demons and witches are actually a nice match when their personalities are compatible and their outlooks mesh well, which they always do or they would not have heard the ‘call’.”

 

“I’m still not sure that I understand what Familiar does.” Buffy admits.

 

“Do you understand what ‘magic’ is?” Ravali asks and she shoots Giles a nasty glance when she shakes her head in response. “Magic is the name given to a source of energy that can not truly be seen only perceived by those with the gift to manipulate it. It is not like electricity or power through motion which is the forms that you are perhaps more familiar with?” Buffy nods.

 

“It is somewhat alike however in that it is what powers everything. It is the attraction that draws atoms into their forms, that mysterious ‘spark’ that infuses all that exists in creation. You must understand first that this invisible force exists in all things, in all forms, and in an infinite diversity. Some individuals, beings, and creatures are tied more closely to this energy, to the stuff of life itself. They can draw it to them, and store it in their very being, almost like batteries. Some Demons are unusually attuned to this energy, which is why as a species Demons are so formidable and why those that can manipulate it are so incredibly powerful. You have seen what the Vengeance Demons for instance are capable of?” Ravali asks and she nods pleased as Buffy, Giles, and Wes all nod.

 

“Witches are humans born with the ability to shape and focus this energy and through incantations, gestures, sympathetic tokens, and other means they are able to manifest it according to their strength of will alone. However not every Witch is also born with the ability to draw the energy and they must ‘borrow’ power from another source. For a ‘White Witch’ this energy is drawn mostly from nature through the use of the various rituals of their belief and they request rather then take. For those that lose their way, the Chaos Mages, the necromancers, Black Witches, and so forth they take what is not theirs to take. Tara is blessed in that she has both gifts, as my Jacob does also, the Red Sorceress however has only half the gift. She can manipulate the energy but she cannot call it to her, not without using a medium to draw it. She doesn’t work ‘magic’ she works it through a focus.” Ravali lectures.

 

“You’re talking about Willow right?” Buffy asks sadly.

 

“Yes, it is she of whom I speak.” Ravali replies. “For a long time she used Tara without her knowledge and consent to power her own spells but in the process she was manipulating her and undermining her belief in her own worth. Tara has amazing potential that Jacob can help her to develop and now that she has willingly entered into ‘The Bond’ to the Young Master you will see such wonders as you have never seen.”

 

“The bond, what is that? Is that the Familiar thing again?” Buffy asks her brow furrowed with the effort to understand.

 

“Your Watcher spoke falsely before; which isn’t so unusual for their kind.” Ravali’s voice is biting and disparaging. “The Young Mistress hasn’t placed a binding spell of any kind on the Young Master. The spell merely alerts interested spirits that a Familiar is requested. By then the Witch has usually already formed the emotional attachment that is required, if not to the one that will become their Familiar then at least to that which shares its form.”

 

“Oh I think I understand. Tara believed that she was some kind of Demon for most of her life so she had sympathy for them already.” Buffy says excitedly.

 

“And for Spike specifically since he was the one who defended her against her family, even though it hurt him to do it and he saved her.” Giles points out helpfully.

 

Ravali nods regally. “That was a factor in the bond they share to be sure. Tara cast the spell and William felt it and he chose to answer it.” Ravali pins Giles and Wes with her gaze. “Make no mistake on this point Watchers, a Familiar cannot be ‘bound’ in the manner that you spoke of. We must choose to do so of our free will and it is a bonding not a binding; it is a partnership not enslavement. Tara and William and even Penn are as siblings.”

 

“Great Scott, who could have known that Spike…?” Giles starts to say in wonder.

 

“I knew and so did you.” Buffy says quietly. “He’s so vibrant he practically glows.”

 

Giles thinks about that for a moment and finally nods reluctantly. Man, Vampire or anything else, no one has ever had such sheer presence as the fiery and energetic blond. His eyes widen comically as the image of a red furred Energizer Bunny with fangs pops into his head.

 

Ravali, Buffy, and Wes stare at the image of a hilariously laughing Rupert Giles rolling around on the grass.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Wil emerges from the portal and sighs. The midwinter day and falling rain can’t disguise the rich eclectic scent of home. The minions are as efficiently quick as always and they’re barely damp before large golf-sized umbrellas are quickly put overhead. The sounds of the busy Vieux Carre streets are muffled by the lush greenery that overflows the thick-walled courtyard that surrounds their stately home but it a comforting undertone that tells him that they’re home again.

 

The rich scent of green, growing things, exotic spices, lush waters, and eldritch wonder cling to this place as tightly as any lover. The ground beneath him is almost warm, thick moss bubbling up beneath the marvel cobblestones of their stately home’s front courtyard, as though pressing through to welcome him home with the warmth of its living, breathing atmosphere. A large marble fountain dominates the courtyard, heavy marble tables, benches, and antique wrought iron dots the surrounding lending a certain welcoming acceptance despite the currently hostile environment. Plants in every shade war with the stone until it looks like a snapshot from a primordial kingdom untouched by man.

 

The red brick and golden-veined marble façade of their home is a relief to see. A low-rising retaining wall of hand-quarried river stone and black sand mortar sports the handmade snowy white marble gryphons that Penn had commissioned, stand silent watch to their approach.

 

“Where the hell are we?” Xander asks grumpily from his position squashed with Anya, between two minions that bear a more than passing resemblance to bull dozers, and being herded towards the portico that overhangs the truly massive main doors.

 

“Welcome to New Orleans and the Domaine du lion d'écarlate, as the locals call it.” Wil states; and amused by the shocked look being shot at him by Xander, Anya, and Angel, he chuckles. “This is the Estate of the Scarlet Lions if you need that translated. This is the Master Chantry of the Aurelius Order.” Wil climbs the steps easily carrying Penn, casting a worried glance at him from time to time as his unconscious state persists. The huge doors are thrown open at his approach and a striking pair of dynamos explodes out of the interior at the run.

 

The woman is quite the sight to see, slight and wiry, with a waist length mane of curly brown hair and huge violet eyes. She can’t be much over five feet tall if that and if she weighs over a hundred pounds, it can’t be by very much. A long green and silver silk scarf is wrapped around her head like a head band, a not altogether successful attempt to tame the riotous mass of curls no doubt. An off-the-shoulder, white cotton blouse with short sleeves and a low neckline frames an impressive set of breasts for such a petite woman. It makes her long dark mane of hair look darker and her fair skin look even more pale and luminous. The bare feet peeking out from beneath a handkerchief hemmed gossamer skirt in a riot of bright colours and the musical rustle of anklets dripping in golden bell charms makes a pleasant sound against the soundtrack of falling rain. If anyone notices Angel’s sudden scramble to keep a wide berth between him and the colourful gypsy, they’re too polite to say so.

 

The man is no less impressive though less showy about it in his threadbare blue jeans and faded black Metallica shirt and Birkenstocks sandals. However the waist length ponytail caught up at his crown and left to cascade down his back in various shocking shades of blue hues is more than enough to make him stand out and he needs nothing else to be noticed.

 

“Ад случил к мастерскому Penn? Я сказал вас ничего хорошее не пришл от посещения того городка! То я сказал и да он был и взгляд здесь вы болезненн и там будут кровью везде и где другими? Я сказал вас это шло закончиться плох....” The petite woman mutters darkly in an angry sounding language as she stomps down the steps with a dangerously vexed look in her eyes.

 

“Утихомирите вниз с Murielle, Ravali и Penn сказанное Tara излечит без проблем. Они будут вперед после того как они закончат общаться с Jabari.” Wil replies in the same language, remaining calm as he climbs the steps with his unconscious Sire cradled like a little boy in his arms.

 

The manic glare fades from the petite woman’s eyes somewhat as she turns with a flounce, sweeping her full skirt and petticoats aside to abruptly reverse direction. “Enough dawdling Micah, come with me to prepare the pool!” She orders imperiously and the blue-haired Vampire sends a silent glance to Wil asking for his instructions, sighing with relief as he nods with a smile and the relieved man hurries after the petite tyrant.

 

Angel looks at Wil as he emerges from the shadows he’d dived into to avoid the woman that reminds him just a little too much of the Gypsy he killed to end up cursed with a soul. “Since when do you speak Russian William?”

 

“It’s a very necessary evil Angel, very necessary for anyone that plans to spend any time with Murielle.” Wil replies with a grin. “We used to think she was quiet!” He jokes as Angel falls in beside him as he passes where he’s standing on the steps. “That was Murielle and Micah by the way.” He introduces them belatedly.

 

“Are they Vampires too?” Xander asks, as he and Anya hurry to keep up.

 

“Yes Murielle is a Fledgling, the Watchers destroyed her Sire and she had no one left of her Bloodline to raise her so she is of Aaron’s line now. Micah is a Neonate out of Maya, out of Henri, Penn’s valet. They were assigned to us as our attendants when Penn brought Tara and me here. Murielle is Russian as you may have noticed from that fiery display earlier. She has a wicked temper but she only loses it if she genuinely cares about something or someone and she’s worried about them. I think that if a time ever comes that Ravali chooses to step down, she will groom Murielle to take over as the Lady-Steward of the Order.” Wil carries Penn through the doors and into the grand foyer, ignoring Xander and Anya’s gasps at the interior of their beautiful home.

 

The few Masters in attendance, Childer, Minions, and Servitors of various species stand at attention upon sighting them and they all express their worry about Penn and offer to help. Wil and Tara reassure them that Penn is expected to recover fully as they walk down a side hallway to a downward sloping staircase. Tara explains about their guests and the torrent of whispers as they hear Angel’s name is audible even to her human ears and she knows that the gossip will spread quickly through the Order that Angelus has returned to Aurelius.

 

 “Micah is quiet but very fierce and he doesn’t speak very much as you may come to notice. He was injured during his turning and his vocal chords are sustained damage that the Demon was unable to fully regenerate and talking above the quietest whisper can be agonizing for him. He usually signs and he’s psychic gifted like Dru if you allow him to touch you he can communicate mentally. Don’t worry though he can only ‘speak’ and ‘hear’ your thoughts when you direct them to him. He can’t read minds or influence you in any way; that is beyond the small level of the gift that he possesses.” Wil tells them as they follow Tara down the stairs.

 

“What was this place Spike? It’s huge and all the artwork looks original and I’m positive that everything I’ve seen in here is antique, at least a century old. You must be very wealthy to afford all of this. Did you steal it?” Anya asks matter-of-factly.

 

Tara smiles serenely as Wil chuckles. “No, this used to be Penn’s favorite hotel when he was visiting here. The Order purchased it, fully furnished, appointed, and staffed, when he was chosen as the new Master as a gift. Most of the Humans here know what we are and they accept us willingly. The few that couldn’t accept it were given generous severance pay and a bit of a mystical nudge to forget about us prior to their departures.” Wil explains.

 

“The Master here didn’t object to a major Chantry moving in?” Angel replies in shock.

 

“Have you truly distanced yourself so much that you don’t know that Penn was and is the Master of New Orleans?” The disgust and censure in Wil’s voice has Angel flinching. “New Orleans has been in Aurelius hands for almost six years now. Penn defeated the Quillan Master and forced them to remove every Vampire of their lineage from the city as long as Aurelius holds it.”

 

“I can see why they hate us then.” Angel replies with a shudder. New Orleans with its rich mixture of American and European influences, vivid past, vibrant future, and the eldritch mysticism that gives it its unique flare, has always been a jewel of North America’s Vampiric society. Few cities, New York, Los Angeles, Detroit, Miami, and San Francisco among them, can top the appeal of New Orleans for Vampires, and his Order holds it. It’s a matter of tremendous pride and he can’t help but be proud that they are doing so well; even if he’s still not convinced that it’s really to the benefit of humankind just yet.

 

“You’ve heard the old saying about a man being reflected by his friendships but measured by his enemies I’m sure.” Wil says dryly, stepping out of the stairwell and into a well lit basement. They can see Micah standing beside a doorway along the north wall and beckoning them with a wave of his hand.

 

As they step through the others falter and stop behind Tara and Wil as they enter the room but for very different reasons.

 

Anya stares at the lovely dark red walls and the red-veined marble that forms the decorative ceiling and the precisely laid floor. Twin sunken tubs of the same marvelous Marble dominate the far end of the room. The tub on the left is fed by a gently steaming waterfall of water that tumbles from the mouth of a Mermaid-like sculpture. The gently bubbling water betrays the hidden jets of the cleverly designed hot tub. The tub on the right is loomed over by an ornate Gryphon statue, with a vibrant red waterfall of dark scarlet pouring from its open mouth and down into the gently bubbling pool. She doesn’t need to be any closer to know that it’s blood being pumped into and constantly refreshed and recycled in that pool of healing liquid. She has been in other Chantries over the centuries and such tubs are fairly common in the wealthier Orders that can afford them. Vampires enjoy the comfort of the warmth that the hot tubs and they can promote healing and luxury so she isn’t surprised to see them here; though she has to admit these are the nicest she’s seen yet.

 

The Roman-style chaise lounges set around the room seem to be fashioned of the same marble. They are topped with thick cushions of red velvet with the Gryphon symbol of their Order carefully worked in delicate threads of gold, silver, and bronze embroidery. The same bronze red, silver, and gold accents are also carried over to the various other furnishings and decorations but the amazing marble that dominates in the Chantry is the true star of the décor. The same marble has even been worked into marvelous freestanding armoires, in simply elegant forms, decorated in understated bas relief. This is really the most beautiful Chantry she has ever seen in her many centuries, luxurious yet not so ornate that it overwhelms, it’s marvelous.

 

Xander marvels at the skill of the masonry that it must have taken to work the stone into such fantastic shapes and forms. The cost must have been incredible, as is the level of workmanship displayed in the perfect joinery and seams. Several full sized statues dot the room in various places, depicting fantastic creatures like the Gryphon, which is the Order’s Coat-of-Arms, Dragons, both the long and sleek Asian variety and the more powerful and imposing-looking Medieval version, and more. He can’t help but walk over to the nearest statue and traces its amazingly detailed carving only to jerk his hand back with a startled cry, wrapping his other hand around it protectively. He rubs his tingling palm with an expression that is a curious mixture of awe and horror. He can still feel the lingering heat on his skin and the feeling of the powerful pulse under his hand when he touched the marble. He’s not sure how but he thinks that statue is somehow alive!

 

Angel stumbles to a stop, pitching forward to brace his palms on his knees as his chest heaves, his features back and forth from Demon to Human guises as the incredible scents in the room assault his sensitive nose. It has been over a century since the scent of so much blood, the familiar scents of his boys, of family, have so strongly reminded him of what he truly is. He forces his Demon down and straightens with the sheer force of his will and watches as William carefully sets Penn down on one of the lounges and begins to gently undress him with Tara’s help.

 

His eyes narrow as the silent Micah steps up behind William and begins skillfully divesting him of his clothing at the same time and he bites back a growl of annoyance at the sight of those graceful hands undressing and touching his Wil so familiarly. That Spike is allowing the much younger Vampire to touch him at all, speaks volumes about the trust being exchanged and he relaxes. Micah must be his valet, he realizes and he’s only doing his duty by his Master. The sound of the door being thrown open has him whirling around and instinctually turning to face his back to the wall as two noisy vampires hurry into the room just as a delightfully bare Wil is carefully lifting his equally nude Sire back into his arms.

 

The newcomers look remarkably alike; each dressed in expensively tailored three-piece black and grey pinstripe suits. He has to stifle a chuckle because some how they remind him of the farmer in that famous American Gothic portrait, only minus the pitchforks and wearing suits.

 

“What happened?” The older looking of the pair cries in a pompous tone as he rushes over and picks up Penn’s ruined and bloodstained clothes. He makes sounds of distress as he paws through the wrecked clothing.

 

Wil ignores the display as he carefully moves Penn to Micah’s arms before he steps down into the bubbling red pool. He settles on the padded bench and makes himself comfortable and then nods when he’s set. He reaches up and Micah carefully leans down and with some assistance from Tara and Murielle, the unconscious man is passed safely back into Wil’s waiting arms and settled comfortably. Wil makes sure that Penn’s cheek is braced against his chest and his arm is securely around him before he arranges them in the pool so that only their heads are sticking out. The hand stroking through Penn’s hair is loving and tender and Angel is struck by the sight of Wil taking care of Penn. At first he’d assumed that the relationship the pair shares was a typical one of a Dominate Sire and a submissive Childe but he can see now that he was wrong. They are much more equal in their standing then he’s used to seeing in relationships among their kind and he feels a momentary flush of embarrassment that he’d once thought to break William to such an uneven relationship.

 

“Henri, take those up and lament them elsewhere would you?” Wil chastises in a gentle but weary voice. “Penn will need a change of clothes, something casual and comfortable please Henri, he’s going to be tender for a while yet. I know that you’ll know what he’d want. Paxton have the staff arrange for a block of rooms to be readied please.” His eyes sweep over Anya, Xander, and Angel. “I believe we can expect some guests to be visiting us this evening.”

 

The older of the look-alikes shoves the ruined clothing into the younger one’s arms and roughly spins him around and shoves him towards the door with an impatient shove in the small of his back. “You heard the Master Paxton, attend to his orders!” The younger Vampire scampers out of the room followed by the elder, the door closing noisily after them.

 

“Murielle, make sure that everyone knows that we may be seeing a Slayer along with some other Humans this evening. Dismiss the Demon retainers for the evening and make sure the minions understand that these people are our guests and that they are to be treated as such. Have the young minions, Fledglings and Childer move to the country Manor until after the Slayer is gone. I don’t want anyone here that could lose control.” Wil orders quietly.

 

Murielle nods and sweeps from the room in a rustle of silken petticoats and ringing jewelry. Wil turns his gaze to Micah, who smiles and nods, leaving silently before he can say anything and he relaxes in the bubbling pool, feeling the blood easing his aches and pains. His hands are still on Penn for only a few seconds before continuing their roaming caresses, occasionally dipping into the blood and pouring it over Penn’s skin or massaging it into his wounds gently.

 

Tara sets her shawl wrap aside on one of the marble side tables and kicks her shoes off with a grateful sigh. She crosses to the lounges nearest to the pool and gracefully flicking the long skirt of her dress aside, sits down regally, keeping a close eye on Wil and Penn. One by one the others join her on the lounge.

 

“What is that in there? Is that blood?” Xander asks nervously.

 

“It’s blood.” Angel confirms in an unemotional voice. “It’s very powerful blood by the smell of it.”

 

“It’s the Heart of Fire, Dragon blood.” Tara says quietly. “It will heal Penn’s injuries and restore his health. It has remarkable healing properties for Vampires.”

 

“Where did you find the Dragon? They’re all but extinct in this age, I haven’t heard of one being spotted in centuries.” Angel asks in amazement, as the creatures are extremely rare.

 

“This one was released when Glory’s minion succeeded in temporarily opening a rift between dimensions by shedding Dawn’s blood on the tower. We were all too torn up at the time to think about what might have had time to escape the portal before Buffy’s sacrificed closed it but Spike saw the Dragon. He couldn’t and wouldn’t leave us but he knew that it was too dangerous to allow it to roam free. He sent the word to the Order through his contacts, remaining anonymous, telling them that a Dragon had been spotted. He had no way of knowing at the time but Penn was about to be appointed the Master of the Order. He feared that he would be in disgrace if it was discovered what had happened to him.” Tara relays to them, a sad expression on her face.

 

“I dispatched Hunters but we found that we were too late. The Dragon was a female that had mated and had hatched her first clutch of young and had laid a second one before we found her.” All eyes swing to the pool at the sound of the quiet and tired voice and they see Wil smiling lovingly down at Penn who is awake but weak.

 

“Shhhh let me tell the story and save your strength for healing.” Wil strokes Penn’s hair rhythmically until he quiets and relaxes against him, turning to straddle his thighs so that his head can rest on his shoulder comfortably. “The Order sent for Jacob and he cast a confinement spell rather than killing the Dragon and her young. Jacob shifted them to a pocket dimension that our hunters occasionally venture to when it is necessary. It controls their population by weeding out the older and giving the younger a chance to mature and it gives us access to a very rare commodity.”

 

“Wouldn’t he heal faster from feeding then from soaking in blood?” Anya asks curious, ignoring as Xander pales at the reminder of what they’re soaking in and the fact they’re in the Vampire version of a headquarters or something.

 

“The pool is a better option since the stakes were soaked with holy water. It will clear out any traces left and heal the damage and the Dragon’s blood is an excellent antidote to holy water. It will restore his strength faster and heal the wounds cleanly whereas they’d usually scar.” Tara explains. 

 

The door opens again and Micah quietly returns with some clothing folded neatly over his arm and Murielle is at his side with a crystal tray of glasses. Each has an expression on their face that could only be described as long-suffering and the reason for that is apparent as the pompous elder Vampire from earlier enters after them. A silk set of pants and a matching robe is folded neatly over his arm and he’s carrying a pair of soft slippers and talking incessantly. He’s seemingly oblivious to the fact that his companions are utterly silent as he asks and answers his own questions.

 

Micah sets the clothing he’s carrying down over the arm of one of the lounges, making sure that it’s arranged neatly before crossing to one of the armoires and opening it to reveal neatly stocked shelves. Murielle steps past him and crosses the distance to the lounge where they’re sitting. She hands Tara a glass of chilled peach nectar laced with a shot of fine champagne.

 

“Would you like some Peach Champagne, Miss?” Murielle asks politely, holding out a goblet to Anya who accepts it with a smile. She holds one out to Xander in silent inquiry and he takes it with a smile. She moves to stand in front of Angel and holds out the tray with a lone goblet, keeping her eyes lowered and her manner non-threatening. Angel’s feels his conscience twist as he realizes that the young Vampire is afraid of him. He accepts the goblet of blood laced red wine with a polite nod, hiding a grimace as she quickly moves away from him and back over to Micah who welcomes her with a shy smile. They look through the assorted cut crystal bottles, stopping occasionally to open one and sniff the contents until they’ve made some selections and set it on the tray Murielle brought over.

 

The other Vampire is hovering over the pool looking anxious. “Can I assist you Masters?”

 

“I’m feeling better already Henri, just set those things down and you’re excused.” Penn replies wearily, clinging weakly to Wil and trusting him to take care of him.

 

“Yes, Master. I’ll make sure that your chambers are prepared.” He follows Penn’s orders and he’s gone within seconds.

 

Wil glances at the items Henri is brought and approves of the choices. Reluctantly he has to admit that despite his pompous and often aggravating manner, he is dedicated and loyal to Penn and he knows his job well. He turns his attention to Penn, sweeping his palm over the worst of his wounds, nodding with satisfaction as he feels it has closed. He stands carrying Penn up with him, sitting on the boundary wall that separates the pools. He lifts Penn easily, letting his weight settle across his thighs. He shifts their weight turning onto his hip as he easily slides him over into the freshwater pool and follows him over, never losing his hold on Penn.

 

He smiles as Micah kneels beside the pool, taking the tray that Murielle is holding out for him. He sets it down and choosing one of the bottles he opens it and holds it up silently. He nods and Micah tips the cut crystal bottle and his palm is filled with a rich liquid soap.

 

Penn turns to brace his arms on the edge of the pool and sighs. Wil tenderly rubs the soap into a rich lather and meticulously washes the remaining traces of the Dragon’s blood away. He inhales deeply and smiles as the earthy scents of clove and orange comfort him and reminds him of the soap his human mother used to make by hand. He smiles at Micah and receives a shy smile back. From the first days, Micah has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to his household and his loyalty and devotion to William is every bit as unshakable as his own. He leans back against Wil and lets his Childe bathe him and wash the traces of the night and his healing dip in the pool, away, as Wil recounts what happened.

 

“You acted as I would have if you had been hurt.” Penn confirms, leaning back against Wil and sighing as his arms wrap around him from behind, crisscrossing over his chest to lock them together. “Murielle, why don’t you escort Mr. and Mrs. Harris to their room, I’m sure that you’ve had some prepared? Perhaps they’d like to change into something more casual too.”

 

Murielle stands and leans forward in a little bow of respect. “Yes, Milord, the second floor’s west wing has been prepared for guests. I’m sure that Lilia’s assistant can bring by some bags packed with the essentials that will be required for the weekend. Sir, Madam, would you please accompany me?” Xander and Anya stand to follow her and Tara stands as well, retrieving her shoes and wrap.

 

“I’ll pay a visit to Lilia’s warehouse, I think I know the sizes and tastes involved so I can find things that they’ll be comfortable wearing.” Tara announces. “But first I need to change!” She chuckles and sweeps from the room Murielle gently guiding Xander and Anya into following her before trailing them out, the door closing quietly behind them.

 

Angel watches as Wil catches Micah’s eye and gestures and he nods, carefully repacking the tray with the items he brought and returning them neatly to their assigned places on the shelves. He selects two thick and fluffy bath sheets and sets them down on a small marble side table braced against the rear wall closest by the baths. He signs elaborately and both Wil and Penn answer him in the same manner as a courtesy, the utterly silent conversation is quite lovely to watch. He’s startled to see Micah gesture towards him and continue to ‘speak’ with his hands in a flurry of gestures and whatever he’s said, Wil and Penn both seem fairly surprised by that. Micah inclines his head respectfully and moves towards the door at the far end of the room from them but makes no moves to leave and merely crosses his hands over his stomach and waits beside the heavy door.

 

“Micah believes that there are still some of your things here, including some clothes that moved here when we changed Chantries. He’ll show you to a room when you’re ready and bring the things from the basement vaults that they’ve preserved.” Wil says quietly. “Apparently Darla refused to allow them to be thrown out and as the favourite of the former Master, the order wasn’t questioned just obeyed.”

 

“To what do I owe the honour of being allowed to remain?” Angel asks dryly, not doubting for a second that he hasn’t been carefully culled from the herd for a specific reason.

 

Wil slips up onto the edge of the pool, unconcerned by his nudity and both Penn and Angel seem to appreciate his comfort for a long lingering moment and their mutual interest doesn’t escape notice. Penn moves nonchalantly to sit between Wil’s thighs, smiling as his arms and legs curl around him in a fond embrace.

 

“Are you going to challenge me?” Penn asks bluntly, his eyes locked on Angel who deliberately takes a long sip of his wine instead of answering immediately.

 

“I’ve been named outcast by the ruling line of the Order.” Angel points out in an unemotional tone. Each of them knows that so labelled, it wouldn’t matter if he challenged or not without the support of enough of the Order to ratify it even if he won.

 

“I’m not talking about the Order, Angelus.” Penn’s grey eyes narrow as his hand sweeps along Wil’s thigh, stopping to curve possessively over his knee.

 

“Angel.” He corrects by sheer habit.

 

“The Humans aren’t here Angelus, you can drop the façade. Did you really think that we of all Vampires wouldn’t know that you are every bit as much Angelus as you ever were?” Penn counters.

 

Angel relaxes his back leaning against the arm of the lounge in a lazy but regal sprawl that brings to mind the image of a male Lion at the peak of his virility. He takes another slow sip of his wine, letting his eyes skim over his boys with leisurely thoroughness as he licks some stray traces of wine from his bottom lip. “I’m not Angelus.” He replies in a lazy tone. “I just feel him very keenly of late.” His mouth turns up in one corner in a distinctly wicked manner. He slowly and deliberately tips his glass again, draining it dry without taking his eyes off his boys clinging together and staring at him in the fascination that a mongoose would have for a Cobra.

 

“You asked me a question that I didn’t answer.” Angel lets his eyelids drop over his eyes until only a sliver of colour shows. “I’m not going to challenge you for William.” He can’t hide a satisfied smile as they pair release a pent up breath of relief. “It’s not necessary to challenge for what is already mine.”

 

They suck in a startled breath and tense again and he finally releases the chuckle that’s been trying to fight its way free for some time. It’s William that groans and flops over Penn’s shoulder muttering between uncontrollable snickers as he suddenly realizes what’s going on and he shakes his head and he lets it fall forward to brace against Penn’s shoulder.

 

“Why would he care Penn? You’ve taken me from Drusilla but no one has taken us from him. We are what we always were. You’re the Childe of Angelus and as I am yours, I am still his Grandchilde just as before.” The words are muffled but their sharp hearing carries the words easily to their ears.

 

Penn groans and lets his head fall back against Wil’s chest. He starts snickering in response to the chortles he can hear barely being muffled against his shoulder and he ignore Angel’s decidedly pleased gaze as he looks on.

 

“If it amuses you to play at being the Masters of the Order, my Boys, then I give you leave to enjoy it. Maybe it will keep you two pains in the ass out of trouble.” Angel calmly sets his glass aside and stands in a gracefully roll of his hips and strolls towards the door singing tunefully.

 

'S truagh nach robh mis' ann an Eilean mo Chridh'...

 

Dhùrachdainn fuireach le cuideachd mo ghràidh

'S a bhothan aig Uilleam aig tuinne na traigh;

Gu'n éisd bhi òirnn tuile gach oidhche na là,

Ach muir agus monadh a laimh rinn.

 

'S truagh nach robh mis' ann an Eilean mo Chridh’...

 

Chì mi am Meall, agus chì mi an Sgòrr;

Slinnean Churaing agus Binnean an Stòrr,

Healabhal Bheag agus Healabhal Mhòr -

Beul nan Tri-Allt is Geàrraidh.

 

Micah hurries to open the door as Angel approaches and after a startled look back at Wil and Penn he hurries to follow him, the door closing silently behind them.

 

“Wil, that song, what did it say? You’re the only one that he forced to learn Gaelic.” Penn looks over his shoulder.

 

“It’s… it is part of a song that he used to sing a lot.” Wil breathes in sharply and translates it for Penn.

 

O, would that I were...

 

My wish is to stay with the kin of my heart

In William's wee bothy by the waves on the beach,

Where forever we'd listen each night and each day

With but moorland and sea beside us.

 

O, would that I were...

 

I see the Meall and I see the Sgorr

The side of Quirang and the hills of the Storr

Little Helaval and Big Helaval

The Three Streams delta and Gearraidh

 

“It’s called Isle of my Heart, it’s the first thing he made me learn when he commanded me to learn Gaelic.” Wil adds softly, tightening his arms and legs around Penn. “He hasn’t let us go Penn; he’s just decided to keep us both.”

 

“He is my Sire, my beloved. We know that he spoke the truth. We belong to him still and always, it’s apparent he has no problem accepting that state of affairs.” Penn notes stroking Wil’s thigh soothingly. “However if you ask me what that means for us… I don’t have a bloody clue.”

 

The pair stares pensively at the closed door and sighs in unison. Daddy’s come home.

 

Wil turns his head to meet Penn’s eyes as he turns to look at him. “Penn, what’s going to happen now? That was a little too much Angelus for me. Do you think he lost the soul and he’s playing everyone for suckers?”

 

“He’s the C.E.O. of one of Wolfram & Hart’s largest offices, I’m not sure that we can take anything about Angelus at face value. You’re the only one that has spent any time with Angelus in a century, was that him?” Penn lifts his hand to stroke Wil’s cheek, gently guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

 

Wil reviews everything that happened in detail and after several minutes he finally shakes his head. “If that was Angelus than he’s nothing like he was in Sunnydale but he doesn’t seem like the Sire we knew before either. Maybe he was being honest when he said he’s both?” He tightens his arms around Penn and swallows his fear at what the future could hold for them both.

 

“I’m not sure that we can trust him not to manipulate us but I do think that he was being honest about not challenging my position as Master of the Order. I think it may amuse him that we’ve only given him what he wanted. You’re free of Drusilla’s jealous rages and insane ramblings and safe with me but I am still bound to him as my Sire. He has us both and that’s what he’s always wanted.” Penn notes.

 

He turns his head, nuzzling Wil’s cheek with his own. “You have nothing to fear from him, my beloved. Our position does afford us some protection. Angelus is very aware of the fact that he can expect little to no support from the Masters of the Order as they have embraced us so thoroughly. We are both Masters of the Order and Sire or not, he can command us only so much as we allow it now.”

 

“It’s not going to be that easy, it never is with Angelus.” Wil says quietly, relaxing into Penn’s embrace with a ragged sigh as he turns in his arms to pull him closer.

 

“No. it’s never easy with Angelus.” Penn agrees. “Do you miss him?” He asks softly.

 

“I don’t know what I feel when I see him anymore but I think I could miss this version.” Wil admits after a few seconds, his face saddened by a frown and he sighs mournfully.

 

Penn traces his cheekbone downward until he can cup his chin and lifts it until their eyes meet and he can trace a thumb softly along his bottom lip. “I understand beloved, he’s confusing me too.”

 

He melts against Wil as he carefully levers him out from the bath and sits him on the side; as his now closed but still healing wounds are tenderly inspected by Wil.

 

“You’re healing well but I want you to take it easy and rest tonight; these won’t heal completely for several more hours yet. Do you want to feed?” Wil asks, tilting his head to the side and baring his neck.

 

 The soft caress of lips and the hungry sweep of a velvet tongue over the sensitive skin of his neck is the answer to his question. He sighs happily as Penn’s lowering weight urges him gently onto his back and settles over him tenderly. He gives himself up to his handsome lover’s other appetites. There will be time for them to adjust to having Angelus and his machinations back in their lives but for now he has hungers of his own to indulge and he arches into Penn with a welcoming purr.

 

Epilogue

 

Angel sips his glass of blood-laced wine and looks around from the welcome shadows beside one of the double fireplaces that warm the large glass-sheathed conservatory. Everyone has happily changed into casual clothes provided by Lilia Creations and everyone appears to be having a ball in their new outfits. Some are ultra casual like Fred’s simple tank top, cardigan, jeans and moccasins while others like Giles, in tailored trousers, a dress shirt and a vest with casual loafers, prefer a more formal appearance. Surprisingly Micah did find some of his things in the basement vault and the tailored pants, loafers and billowy soft Mohair sweater are his own. He’s understandably surprised how well everyone is taking it, finding themselves suddenly so far from home. From the sea of happy faces it’s clear to see that most of them have indeed forgotten that not only are they many states removed from Sunnydale, but that they’re in the heart of one of the oldest and most powerful Vampiric Orders. His eyes seek them out one by one.

 

The atrium is truly lovely, one wall and the majority of the ceiling is composed almost solely of thick lead glass sections interspersed with sections of master-crafted stained-glass. The floor is paved with the same beautiful marble that is so predominate in the hotel turned Chantry; but it has been cleverly inlaid with a lovely and richly grained red Cedar wood to form a paving style layout. Richly coloured wool area rugs, sometimes as large as twenty by twenty feet, are placed around the room to anchor the various conversation and lounge areas that have been designed to make the huge space more inviting for lounging. The lighting has been kept soft in the form of modern lamps cleverly fashioned to appear like old-fashioned English street gaslights. With the corner fireplaces the light level is comfortable rather then jarring as so many artificial lights can be in this age. The design of the atrium is very clever, incorporating elements from both the exterior and the interior to merge the two spaces. It’s almost like being outside in the garden under the night sky but much more pleasant then fighting the steady drizzle outside that’s sending a million drops of crystalline rain, tiny prisms dancing down the glass to reflect tiny rainbows for their eyes.  

 

The converted hotel makes for a very fitting Chantry, Angel has to admit. He spent much of his formative fledgling years at Darla’s side as she attended her Sire in all of the grand courts and Chantries of Europe and he can honestly say that he’s never seen a lovelier one. It is a fitting setting and a home worthy to house the treasures of his life, his precious boys.

 

One wall is dominated by large, impressive looking salt water aquariums built directly into the walls and an astonishing collection of sea life populate their crystal walled universe quite happily. The playful darting of the rainbow of life in the tank is enchanting for Fred and Cordy who are watching raptly and pointing out things with the occasional giggle or awed gasp of wonder. Lorne and Gunn are several feet away, their faces pressed to the glass of an aquarium farther down from the girls, marvelling at the expertly crafted shipwreck scene populated by a surprisingly large Octopus peeking from the wreckage.

 

Anya, Xander, and Giles are sitting on one of the truly gigantic corner sectional couches, talking quietly with Tara, Ravali and her Mate, Jacob. His keen ears pick up snippets of the conversation now and then. He’s not surprised to hear that Giles is asking incessant questions about magic and that Xander is asking how they can help Willow. He grins now and then when Anya’s endless questions about how much the Order is worth reaches him.

 

His eyes flick towards the other end of the room, towards the glass wall that is all that separates them from the lush gardens and sweeping expanse of manicured lawn, hedges and trees that grow beyond. A tasteful collection of Roman-style chaises, padded Ottomans; larger then some couches he’s seen and easy chairs are arrayed in small groupings to create cosy chatting areas that manage to make the large, somewhat formal room rather warm and inviting.

 

Aaron Logan is holding court with all the regal airs of a powerful Prince over his kingdom and Buffy somewhat predictably is hovering nearby and sending him flirtatious glances every so often. His Grandchilde Genevra is perched along the back of one of the easy chairs, draped artistically across the shoulders of Ian and he not surprised to see that the glances being sent his way by the pair are anything but warm and welcoming. Aaron’s twin Brother and Childe is sitting next to his Sire having an animated discussion with his descendant Lilia, who is sitting with ladylike grace on the arm of the easy chair that Grady is sitting in across from the couch. Judging by the protective arm he has wrapped around her waist and the affectionate arm she’s draped across his shoulders and the loving glances they’re exchanging, it’s obvious that they have deep feelings for one another.

 

Erick proudly told him the story of his family’s history and it’s a fascinating story. Aaron was attacked and unbeknownst to his family, turned by a Vampire; in case of fact one of Darla’s own Childer. His grieving family tried to go on as best that they could and Erick’s marriage was arranged and he was married to a young heiress. The marriage was advantageous to their family but it was not one of love only of duty and his wife was soon expecting the heir that duty demanded that she must bear. Mourning his Brother, Erick was throwing his life away in endless and meaningless affairs and squandering the family fortune in drinks, gambling, and other selfish pursuits. Then Aaron returned for his Twin and told him of his fate and betrayed his secret in an attempt to selflessly help his Twin. Erick asked him to make him as he was so that he wouldn’t have to live without the Brother he’d known forever. Aaron agreed and somehow he successfully turned his Twin and for a long time his Sire raised them both quite happily. Unlike most Vampires however Erick was able to maintain his place in society and it was almost ridiculously easy to hide the fact that he was a Vampire when ‘polite society’ rarely stirred from their beds before the last flush of sunset anyway.

 

Erick’s wife safely delivered fraternal twins, a handsome son and a beautiful daughter and she would live out her life never fully understanding her husband’s secret. The children grew up, knowing that there was something other-worldly about their Father but saw his agelessness as a gift rather then a curse. In time they married well and ‘grieved’ for their Father, supposedly killed at sea when the ship he was on went down in rough seas during a furious storm. In time they had children and their children had children, each generation protected by their doting ‘Uncles’ Aaron and Erick. Lilia is the youngest of a quartet of Logan siblings, including a twin brother of her own. Her Father, one of Erick’s direct descendants and Mother are living happily in Florida and enjoying their Order funded retirement. Unlike her Brothers and Sister, who are happily raising thriving families, Lilia sadly was born sterile and contracted a deadly strain of Influenza as a young girl. At Ravali’s urging Lilia moved to live with her ‘Uncles’ so that she could benefit from frequent transfusions freely offered by her paternal ancestors. With the strength of their Vampiric blood in her system her immune system eventually re-established itself but it takes periodic transfusions to maintain her health. She ultimately chose to make her home nearby and judging by Cordelia’s star struck expression upon being introduced to her, her career as a fashion designer is going very well. The relationship between Lilia and Grady seems to be well received by all parties and they do make an adorable couple.

 

The sound of musical laughter draws his attention to another conversation area of the room. A veritable mountain of pillows, cushions and futons are mounded up in one of the corners. Dawn is cuddling a large puppy that’s playfully tumbling around on her lap. Micah is sitting nearby strumming a large folk-style wooden guitar as Murielle, sitting beside him, sings softly in Russian and keeps time on a lovely hardwood Bodhran. The small handheld drum is a beautiful accompaniment to the passionate sounding song and the ringing tones of Murielle’s bracelets and anklets adding a depth of sound that is very pleasant.

 

A hint of movement draws his eye to the easy chair across from his own and he turns to see that Wesley is staring at him again. His lips twitch in amusement as Wes hurriedly looks away when he realizes he’s been caught staring again. It hasn’t escaped his notice that he’s caught Wesley staring at him more and more often of late. He’s not entirely self-absorbed and he’s realized that Wesley’s feelings for him have been changing and growing and that he’s been trying to hide it, very unsuccessfully. He considered confronting him about it but he’s not sure how the reserved man will deal with such a blunt approach.

 

Speaking of approaches, nearly silent footfalls turn his eyes towards the wide door-less entry and what he sees pushes any thoughts of Wesley from his mind. Penn strides in wearing an open dark grey silk robe that floats around him, brushing his calves as he moves and burgundy silk pyjama pants. Dark grey slippers protect his feet from the chilly marble floors. He meets his gaze with a simple nod and steps into the room and over to where Tara is sitting and stands talking quietly. He’s not sure what’s bothering him about the scene at first and then he realizes that Penn is alone and for the first time since he saw his eldest Childe, Wil isn’t within his line of sight.

 

Even as the thought occurs William pauses in the doorway, talking with a tall, silver haired man that looks vaguely familiar but he can’t quite remember the context in which he knows the man. Wil is looking amazing but then he has to chuckle as he can recall very few instances where William managed to look anything else. He’s wearing a long sleeved, stonewashed silk dress shirt in a shade of blue so dark that it almost looks black in the soft lighting of the atrium. It’s not tucked in, fluttering in soft folds to mid-thigh, the buttons are undone and his chest is bared to his appreciative gaze. The sleeves of the shirt are cuffed neatly and folded back up to his elbows. His blue jeans are so old and worn that barely any hint of blue remains in the almost white fabric. The knees are worn through and the hems on the cuffs are frayed gently as they rest against the top of his bare feet.

 

Angel watches as Wil twists to gesture to the silver-haired man as he talks, the motion pulling his shirt off center and baring a truly world-class rear view.

 

He has to suck in a ragged breath at the sight of the denim clinging to his perfect rear like a hand in a glove. The threadbare fabric shows tantalizing glimpses of alabaster skin like a shy little boy playing peek-a-boo behind the shelter of his Father’s legs. Despite the pale perfection, William’s skin has always had a certain touchable quality that the cool stone of alabaster could never hope to eclipse. He watches as William laughs at something the silver haired man says and the deep, husky sound sends shivers along his spine. His eyes narrow as the handsome man leans forward and kisses Wil on both cheeks and departs with a distinctly continental ‘Ciao’ and a wave.

 

Wil pivots on the ball of his foot and continues into the room; and he bites back a growl of appreciation mixed with aggravation at the sweet smile curving his lips. He doesn’t want to think about what the silver-haired man did to put that smile; a smile he’s never been gifted with; on Wil’s face. He appreciates the straight forward view of Wil as he stalks into the room, carried by his typical silently stalking stride. The ornate collar from earlier is gone, replaced by a simpler collar of simple Black Gold links with a small charm lock in front. The open links display glimpses of the tattoo below as the collar shifts with his movements. The tattoo over his heart peeks from the open flaps of the shirt as he walks. Simple black gold studs adorn his left ear and eyebrow and glitter from his navel. All but the ring fingers on his hands are bare of the usual chunky rings he prefers. He looks fresh and comfortable… and sexy as hell.

 

Before he realizes what he’s doing he’s out of the chair and across the room, flicking Wil’s shirt aside and running his palm over his heart and the tattoo adorning it. He’s not surprised when most of the room seems to surge around them but no one makes any move to stop him as Penn steps up beside him and doesn’t demand he stop.

 

“Whatever happened to him, it wasn’t enough.” Angel growls angrily but the hand tracing the slightly raised scar concealed by the tattoo is gentle and reverent. He spies a slender hand trying to reach past him to touch the tattoo and his hand strikes Rattlesnake fast and catches Buffy’s hand, deflecting it away with a flick of his wrist. “You’ve touched him enough.” He says flatly, ignoring Buffy’s outraged gasp and hurt look as she snatches her hand back and cradles it against her chest, rubbing the sting away.

 

Angel turns and flips Penn’s robe open, tracing his palms over his injuries, nodding in satisfaction at the advanced degree of healing they’ve undergone. He cups his hand around Penn’s cheek and then turns and cups Wil’s cheek in his other hand and caressing their cheekbones with his thumbs he pulls them both to him and wraps his arms around their shoulders.

 

Aaron watches with a critical eye, and after a minute he makes a twirling motion with his hands and the Vampires slowly disperse back to what they were doing before. Genevra and Ian pause uncertainly, their expressions twisted by hatred and it takes a low warning growl from Aaron to get them moving.

 

“It’s taken you a century to start acting like a true Sire Angelus. Don’t hurt them again, we won’t stand for it but if you want to try and earn their trust back we won’t interfere and you will be welcome amongst us.” Aaron imparts with an air of quiet menace. “This is your last chance Angelus, don’t disappoint us and be very sure that we will be keeping an eye on you.” Aaron gestures to Micah, who has stopped playing his guitar as the drama unfolded before them and he starts playing once more. After a final warning glance at Angel, Aaron returns to his seat from earlier.

 

Giles gently urges Buffy away from the group and over to one of the couches and sits beside her. Xander and Anya drift back to their seat as well but Tara remains hovering nearby. Ravali threads her arm through Jacob’s and he escorts her back to the sofa, Lorne and Gunn going along with them as the stately pair ask them questions about Los Angeles, a city they’ve never had the occasion to visit.

 

Dawn is watching the scene unfold from the mound of pillows, an expression of concern on her face that wars with glimmers of hope as no one comes to blows. All she’s ever wanted is for everyone to get along so that she can keep the only family she’s ever known intact. She’s already lost her Mom and Buffy; though she got her Sister back; she doesn’t want to lose anyone else too. Micah and Murielle keep a quiet eye on the young woman as he takes up his guitar playing and her voice lifts once more in song.

 

Angel releases his Childer and smiles as they instantly gravitate towards each other and cling to one another. He knows that it will take them a long time to accept that whatever happened in the past isn’t going to happen in the present. They have time to rebuild that trust. It’s the first time he’s ever been grateful for his Demon.

 

As soon as he steps away Wes is glued to his side looking nervous and a little frantic. Angel shakes his head; he can almost feel Wesley’s urgent need to talk, he’s almost vibrating with it. He turns a charming smile on Tara. “Tara, would you please restore his voice before he resorts to obscene gestures?” He asks with a grin and Tara giggles as many of those that overhear the comment chuckle as well.

 

Tara steps up to Wes and touches her fingertips to his forehead. “If my lesson you have learned to you now to you your voice return.” There’s a flash of green light from the point her fingertips are touching and she drops her hand and steps away. Wil and Penn instantly snag her shoulders and pull her back to rest pressed between them protectively in case Wes reacts badly to his little magical slap on the wrist.

 

Their eyes widen as Wesley immediately launches into an explosion of questions so fast that it’s impossible to answer one before he’s asking another and another and another.

 

“Damn.” Penn breathes. “I didn’t know people could talk that fast.”

 

Wil closes his mouth, that’s dropped open in amazement. He leans over to whisper. “Bloody hell, they should call them Talkers not Watchers. I’ll pay you if you make his voice go away again.” Tara and Penn explode into laughter and Angel looks like he really wants to, but unfortunately his face is frozen into an expression of long-suffering resignation.

 

Penn pulls his beloved and their best friend away to the mountain of pillows and playfully tackles the pair into the fluffy cushions making Dawn chortle with laughter. She throws herself on the three laughing adults and gives a fake Tarzan yell and proclaims herself Queen of the jungle and everyone laughs at the sight of two Master Vampires and a powerful Witch begging for mercy from their ‘Queen’, seconds before turning the tables and tickling the hysterical young woman into surrender. The quartet curls up happily together and listens to the music being woven by Micah and Murielle.

 

One by one their friends drift over to the mountain of pillows and curl up amidst the softness and talk quietly or just cuddle and listen to the music. Soon even Angel and his friends and Buffy and hers find themselves drawn to the happy congregation and find places amongst the lounging group.

 

Angel settles on the cushions above Wil and Penn who are sandwiched between Tara and Dawn, who are happily cuddling up to them and laying their heads on their chests. He sighs as Wesley and Buffy almost decapitate each other in a near collision in the race to sit next to him but releases a relieved breath as Xander and Anya take the place to his right and Giles sits to his left. He expects though that it has more to do with Jacob and Ravali who are reclined on his left rather then himself. As the other spots are quickly filled Buffy and Wes are left to sit by Gunn and Lorne towards the back corner.

 

Dawn lies against Wil and smiles happily, snuggling happily against her adopted big Brother.

 

“Happy, Lil Bit?” Wil asks threading his fingers through Dawn’s long hair and kissing her temple affectionately. When he was growing up as a little boy he always wished for a Brother or Sister, and it took a century but that wish has come true.

 

“I could be happier.” Dawn teases. “You have the rest of a promise to fulfil Mister, don’t think I’ve forgotten!” Dawn joshes with a grin, poking Wil’s side with a sharp finger and giggling as Wil twitches with laughter as she hits a ticklish spot.

 

“You heard the guest of honour, Childe. You have to dance for us.” Penn grins widely, rubbing his hands together with an unholy gleam in his eyes.

 

“Aaron!” Wil warns before bodily lifting Dawn and tossing her with ridiculous ease the six feet to a grinning Aaron who catches the whooping young woman.

 

“I wanna do it again!” Dawn screams bouncing happily in Aaron’s arms and he whistles sharply and heaves the young woman easily to Erick who in turn lobs her to Grady who passes her to Ian. The young woman laughs wildly whooping and cheering as she makes the circuit from Vampire to Vampire to Ravali to Angel and finally back to Penn who flips her to an open spot in the mountain of pillows beside Wil, who steadies her as she recovers from her impromptu flight and giggling fit.

 

Wil rises smoothly to his feet and walks some distance away before slowly pivoting with a swirl of his hips to face them. He slides his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, the top button of the button-fly working loose and gaping invitingly. He signs to Micah who smiles and nods, placing his fingers in the ready positions on the strings of his guitar. He glances at Penn and signs again and Micah’s smile turns into a grin. He turns his back on them all swaying slightly side to side; moved by a beat only he can hear.

 

Micah’s hands dance over the strings like a virtuoso and a familiar riff explodes through the silence and Tara and Murielle grin. They bob their heads keeping time with the driving beat of the music and sing on cue, their voices harmonizing incredibly.

 

Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell

Jimmy Rogers on the victrola up high

Mama's dancing with baby on her shoulder

The Sun is setting like molasses in the sky.

The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for.

 

Wil’s feet start tapping and the movement spreads slowly up his body one muscle at a time until his whole body is in motion. He draws his left leg in and kicks off into an undulating hip roll that turns him around to face them. A collective gasp breaks out as he looks up at them from under his lashes and a bright smile makes him shine. His body moves to the infectious beat in ceaseless motion, his muscles rippling and contracting under the silken Suede of his skin.

 

Black velvet and that little boy smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring you to your knees

Black velvet if you please.

 

Wil rocks to his knees, his hands braced on his thighs as he dances on his knees, letting his hands roam up from his thighs and over his chest until his palms are pressed together in the classic prayer position against his chest. He kicks his legs out until he’s flat on his back still moving his body to the beat, writhing against the floor in a display that has Dawn cheering.

 

Up in Memphis the music's like a heat wave

White lightning, bound to drive you wild.

Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl

"Love me tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle

The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.

 

Wil draws his body up and vaults easily to his feet, a fluid shrug of his shoulders sending his silk shirt sliding off in a sinuous slither and he catches it in his hands as it slides free. He pitches his body into a slow hip thrust as he rotates in a slow circle to face away from them slowing turning his hands and binding his wrists with his shirt. He spins back to face them, his bound wrists over his head as he undulates slowly around in a circle, his hips rocking.

 

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for….

 

Penn is on his feet in the blink of an eye, shrugging his robe off and letting it fall to the pillows and striding forward with a low growl. He stops a foot away and makes a low growling sound deep in his chest that has every Vampire, except for Angel, straightening to attention and almost vibrating with barely leashed excitement. Angel only watches with an enigmatic smile.

 

Wil freezes turning to look over his shoulder at Penn with a sweet smile for a heartbeat. He slowly deflects his body into a hip roll, keeping his bound hands up over his head and dancing toward Penn. He stops moving forward when their chests touch but he doesn’t stop dancing. He purrs softly, the rumbling sound slowly filling the room with its thrumming cadence and Penn’s growling slowly tapers off until he’s purring too.

 

Black velvet and that little boy smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring you to your knees

Black velvet if you please.

 

Penn slides his hands slowly up Wil’s flanks and up his arms until he reaches his bound hands. He unwraps the silk as they dance pressed as close as two people can be without one of them being inside the other person. He gently unwinds the silk shirt, freeing Wil’s hands as he tosses the shirt over his shoulder towards the pillows.

 

Wil sinks his fingers immediately into Penn’s thick mane of hair and melts against him. Penn’s arms snake around him and sink deep into the back pockets of his jeans as he passionately yanks him closer, lifting him right off his feet in his urgency. Wil uses the momentum to carry him upward and he locks his legs around Penn’s waist, crossing his ankles and locking them together. He never stops dancing for a single moment throughout; Penn’s body has become his new dance floor of choice.

 

Every word of every song that he sang was for you.

In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon,

 

What could you do?

 

Angel darts forward and snatches the shirt up before it can fall to the pillows and flips it to lie over his shoulder. He inhales deeply and sighs as the scent of his youngest boy fills his lungs once more. He can catch the distinctly sharper and stronger scent of his eldest as well and it is a heady mixture that makes him feel light-headed.

 

Black velvet and that little boy smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring you to your knees

Black velvet if you please.

 

Angel can’t take his eyes off his writhing boys as they dance in a world of their own making, lost in the motion and emotion of the moment. He absent-mindedly notes Ravali and Jacob gently urging Dawn to her feet. He can see them escorting the wide-eyes young woman from the room to a soundtrack of half-hearted objections but the yawns she can’t hide put a lie to the objection. It’s been a very long day and a longer night and despite avowing her newfound maturity Dawn is in many ways still sheltered. No one else makes the slightest move to leave; not that he expected anyone to find the strength of will to leave the untamed mating dance being performed with unashamed glee by the lovers.

 

Black velvet and that little boy smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring you to your knees

Black velvet if you please.

Black velvet and that little boy smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring you to your knees

Black velvet if you please.

 

Penn’s dancing slows as his hands curve around Wil’s thighs, stroking slowly in silent command. Wil obligingly relaxes his legs and lets Penn lift him off. He holds him with an easy strength that never fails to make his stilled-heart want to pound just so that it can stop again. Penn sets him down gently, not letting go until he feels Wil’s muscles tensing to take his weight, sliding an arm around him and pulling him close. Wil’s right hand falls to rest over Penn’s heart, stroking gently as they sway together. Their free hands meet and their fingers weave together as they slow until they’re doing little more than rocking and swaying, their eyes locked on each other. They lean into each other in unison, their lips barely touching, letting the swaying movements gently deepen the kiss.

 

...If you please...

…If you please...

 

As the song trails off and Tara and Murielle let their voices fade to silence the pair never stop dancing. Micah immediately starts another song, a quieter and softer toned melody that is almost melancholy. Tara smiles and nods her appreciation as she recognizes the song. She’s always thought that it suited Wil and that it speaks an inherent truth that cannot be denied. She’s never seen blue like that until she got to know William and the universe that is his eyes. Her voice is rising and before she realizes it she’s singing; singing for Wil and Penn and for everyone that is blessed to know, really know, what blue is now.

 

Today I took a walk up the street

And picked a flower and climbed the hill

Above the lake

 

And secret thoughts were said aloud

We watched the faces in the clouds

Until the clouds had blown away

 

And were we ever somewhere else?

You know, it's hard to say

 

And I never saw blue like that before

Across the sky

Around the world

You've given me all you have and more

And no one else has ever shown me how

To see the world the way I see it now

Oh, I, I never saw blue like that….

 

Two by two other couples are drawn to the embracing pair like iron shavings to a magnet and soon there is a sea of swaying bodies as Angel watches. He’s surprised to see Cordelia and Gunn slow dancing next to a shyly smiling Fred who is blushing in Erick’s arms as he waltzes with her, keeping a respectful distance as in days of elegant cotillions and royal balls. He can see Wesley and Buffy both looking at him but he ignores their air of silent yearning and keeps watching his boys dancing; though vertical making out may be a better name for what they’re doing at the moment. Whatever they’re doing though, it’s more entertaining then a sulky Slayer and an ex-Watcher that isn’t sure what he wants out of life.

 

He glances over his shoulder and sees that Giles is doing his best to talk Wes and Buffy into comas. Micah is still sitting beside his Lady-love Murielle, happily playing his guitar for everyone, content to just be with the fiery Russian, who is happily singing harmony for Tara. His eyes move to seek out Tara and he’s somehow not surprised to note that Aaron has moved next to her. He seems quite content to recline and relax as he listens to her singing. He is a little surprised to see that Lorne is talking quite animatedly to the Master Vampire, who seems to be genuinely interested in what he’s saying. Erick escorts the still blushing Fred back to the mountain of pillows but Lorne pops up like a Jack-in-the-box and leads the giggling young woman back out into the dancing crowd.

 

And it feels like now,

And it feels always,

And it feels like coming home….

 

Angel’s lips twitch to smile but he fights the feeling and deliberately adopts a brooding expression as he notices that his boys are slowly dancing their way closer. He tips over on his side and curls up, comfortably sinking into the plump pillows and bracing his cheek on his palm. In a few seconds Penn’s got Wil down less than a foot away, kissing him like it will save his life. He makes no secret about his fascination with the pair as they exchange slow drugging kisses and tender caresses. It’s not even overtly sexual; it’s loving and affectionate but very, very hot and he has to look away briefly.

 

When he looks back he finds himself lost in bottomless pools of eldritch blue; and he is drawn under to drown in a rush of heat that makes him feel like he’s going to combust any second. He falls back with a silent groan, his back arching off the pillows as he gasps silently. He doesn’t know how Wil is making it happen but he’s channelling what he’s feeling directly to him and his eyes slip closed as he sinks boneless into the pillows.

 

He can feel the silken rough glide of Penn’s tongue against his own, the sweetly sharp sting as his tongue grazes one of Penn’s half-descended fangs, the painful pleasure as nimble fingers tug lightly on a navel piercing he doesn’t have. He is William. He is Angel. They are Angelus. He can feel the bond pulsing with lifeblood and devotion that flows between his Childer and he is lost to the passion that flows between them. He moves as easily as a river of lava through a world of snow and ice as he flows through their link, passing from William to Penn and back again. Every caress, all the slow tangos of adoring kissing and sultry emotion, he feels it all intimately. It floods through him, doubled and returned until it sends him crashing back into his body with an ecstatic shudder that causes him to clench his eyes shut.

 

He opens his eyes slowly and he shudders as the blue sea recedes beneath William’s sheltering eyelids and the connection fades as abruptly as it formed. He is humbled by the depth of the feelings that flow between his Childer and touched by the deeper truths it also reveals. They still care for him, it may be against their wishes and contrary to their common sense but he hasn’t killed everything they feel for him despite all that he’s done. They were reborn to love him and it seems that in some small part they still do. William is not the Vampire that he thought he knew, he can feel such power in him, unlike that he’s ever sensed in another Vampire. The strength that he imparts to Penn through their bond is unfathomable. He can even feel echoes of his ties to Tara.

 

“What are you?” He breathes under his breath in a voice so soft that not even Aaron or Erick sitting two feet away can hear him but Penn and Wil do.

 

“He is mine Angelus.” Penn replies in a low rumbling growl of satisfaction.

 

Angel doesn’t answer him. It’s true and he can feel that, the memory of it hardening his resolve even more to reclaim them both. William does belong to Penn and vice versa. He will find a way to make them see that he has no intention of taking them from each other. They’ll both belong to him.

 

Oh, I, I never saw blue like that 

 

Tara’s voice trails to silence as the songs ends gently and softly and Micah segues into an ardent Spanish Flamenco song. Erick and Aaron converge and sweep Tara up between them and the trio tumbles over amidst her giggles. They straighten out the tangle of limbs and curl up together talking quietly.

 

Angel pays them little to no attention, though he can see Buffy’s startled stare in their direction. The expression of surprised confusion on her face suddenly makes him chuckle which earns him several shocked expression of his own.

 

“Damn, it’s good to be home.” Angel flops back on the pillows chuckling helplessly. There’s an ancient curse that reads ‘May you live in interesting times’. Amen… Amen…. He can’t wait to see what happens next. Life is fun and unpredictable again and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

The end of Book One: Pensive Hearts

 

TBC in Book Two: Aurelius Rising

 

Angel faces off against the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart in a final cataclysmic battle but he won’t be alone on the front lines….