The Soft Insanity of Time
by Sajinn



*****
Part 6

Cordelia and Fred entered the lobby of the hotel to see Gunn arguing with Wesley. The former cheerleader broke into a grin when she realized that the two men were debating over brands of metal polish. "So, you two are planning to start what, a weapons-restoration business? Moonlighting as janitors?"

"Yeah, laugh all you want. Just wait until your favorite sword gets all nasty from Grathak demon blood that you didn't clean off it," Gunn spat, returning to his perusal of a knife-and-gun catalogue.

"Hormonal much? Whatever. Come on, Fred." The young scientist meekly followed Cordelia into the back room. Cordelia had spent the day working on Fred's fashion sensethe girl was way too frumpy for Cordelia's tastes.

Angel watched his friends from the second story railing. He was a bit nervous about what he had to do; Cordelia had yet to mention the blonde vampire's appearance the night before. He reluctantly walked down the stairs and sat down, waiting for the young women to return to the lobby. A few minutes later, the pair did so, carrying mugs of coffee with them.

"So, Angel, what's on the demonic investigation agenda for the evening?" Cordelia asked brightly. "You have, of course, gotten rid of Mr. Clairol the evil bloodsucker?"

Angel shifted uncomfortably.

"He's not here. Spike can't be here. No way!" She shouted.

"Wait a minute. Spike was here?" Gunn asked, his voice loud.

"Guys, please. We need to talk. Calmly. Please?" Angel asked wearily. He needed sleep; this was going to be way too tiring.

"Yeah, talk. Like you tell me what Cordelia's talking about," Gunn said angrily. "You know anything about this, Wes?"

The ex-Watcher flinched. "More than I'd like, to be perfectly honest."

"I'll explain, ok?" Angel said. Cordelia and Gunn had taken defensive stances opposite him. Wesley had pulled back, taking Fred with him. The young woman wasn't sure what was going on, but it looked like it was going to get really interesting.

"Start talking," Cordelia said shortly.

"Well." Angel retold the entire story, speaking continuously so that no one had a chance to interrupt. He finished by explaining that Lorne had confirmed the presence of a soul within the younger vampire, and that he was supposed to be there working with Angel.

"So you're saying that Spike, the big, bad evil vampire, is a soulboy like you?" Cordelia asked.

"Yes," Angel said quietly. "And, um.could you all not call him Spike? His name is Wil."

"Wil? What, he change his name or something?" Gunn remarked.

"His name is William. Spike was a nickname he earned.well, a while back." Angel did not want to get into the specifics of how Spike had earned his moniker.

"Why go back to his pre-vamp name?" Cordelia queried.

Angel chose his words carefully. "For the same reasons why I'm Angel and not Angelus."

The group fell silent. Finally, Cordelia stepped forward. "Do you believe him?" Angel nodded. Cordelia bit her lip. "Do you trust him?" This question did not get an immediate answer.

"Somewhat. He is still chipped, so he can't hurt any of you. Actually, I don't think he is much of a threat to anyone except himself right now."

The young lady digested this information. Gunn took the opportunity to ask a question of his own. "But he won't lose the soul if he gets all happy, right?" Angel told him that there was no happiness clause in Wil's case.

Cordelia appeared to have come to some sort of decision. "Angel, I'm not sure I like this at all. I mean, this guy is seriously bad. But if you believe him." She paused. "If you're going to watch him, and keep track of him, and make sure he doesn't go all wiggy and start being fangy and evil on us, I'm willing to wait and see what happens."

Gunn nodded his agreement with Cordelia. "Yeah. You're the badass vamp around here; you take care of the guy. If he's really going to work with us for The Powers, well, we could use him. Things are not going well right now."

Wesley sighed softly. Cordelia and Gunn had surprised him, and probably Angel as well. Maybe this development wouldn't be too destructive.

"Who's Spike?" Fred asked, curious about the conversation she'd just heard.

Angel smiled softly. "Fred, that is a very, very long story. I'll tell you later." He stood up. "But for now, we have a new guest at the hotel. You'll meet him after while. His name is Wil."

"So he's staying here at the hotel? With you and me? Neat! Maybe he can, you know, help me with that.getting out of the room thing, you know? Or cooking. I really want to learn to cook again. Well, cook like you cook here." Fred continued to ramble for several minutes.

Angel grinned. Wil would probably be harder to get out of the room than Fred was, at least for the time being. Of course, if he could make Wil a 'project' for Fred. Angel shook off the thought. It was time for him to check up on his childe. He also needed to take Wil the clothes he'd washed for him. "I'll be back in a few minutes." The vampire turned and jogged up the stairs, aiming for Wil's quarters.

���...�...�...�...���

The blonde vampire was still sleeping when Angel entered the room. Angel stood at the foot of the bed, watching his childe sleep. The activity brought back memories for the elder vampire; he had watched his favorite childe much like this many years ago, before he had been cursed. Even after these many years, the innocence and youth that Wil exuded in sleep amazed Angel. It was a striking contrast to his hard and harsh demeanor when awake. Shaking himself from his memories, Angel gently woke the sleeping man.

"Hmm?" Wil grumbled, burrowing back under the covers.

"You need to get up. I've got your clothes." Angel grinned. Some things never changed, and Wil would never wake easily.

Wil looked up at his Sire. He really did not want to get out of bed. Actually, he didn't want to do anything. Since arriving at Angel's home, the constant agony he'd been feeling had lessened to an almost bearable point. The blonde was loathe to do anything that might change that, including moving. He also had a sinking feeling that Angel was going to make him see more peopleWesley and the green guy had been in earlier, and the interaction had worn him out.

Angel saw that Wil was not going to cooperate easily. "Wil, get up." This time, the voice was commanding, the voice of his Sire. The order had its intended effect; the younger vampire sat up and took the proffered clothes. He saw that they were freshly washed and winced. He was humiliated that he let himself go. In the past he had always prided himself on his appearance.

"Thanks." Wil gestured with the clothes.

"Take a shower. There will be something to eat downstairs." Angel turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him. Wil watched him go, then set down the clothes. He closed his eyes, willing the tumult of emotions in his mind to calm down. Eventually he was confident that he could survive a shower, so he eased himself out of bed and went into the adjoining bathroom.

The shower left Wil feeling somewhat better; hot water took away some of the physical aches caused by months of underfeeding and poor care. The blonde managed to smile slightly when he found the tube of hair gel his Sire had left him. Leave it to Angel to think of the small things.

Eventually there was nothing for him to do but go downstairs and face whatever was down there. He cautiously approached the railing, looking down over the people scattered in the lobby. They were talking, arguing really, arms waving in wild gestures. Something about weapons and fighting, Wil wasn't really sure. Pushing off the rail, he headed down the stairs.

Angel watched his childe slowly descend into the lobby. The blonde might have had an infamous reputation, but he certainly didn't look intimidating now. Thin to the point of frailness and cowering slightly, Wil was a shadow of his former self. Angel was again reminded of himself when he was first cursed.

Cordelia saw that Angel's attention had been drawn away from Wesley and Gunn's argument, so she turned to see what had caught his eye. She instinctively jumped at the sight of Spike on the stairwell. The young woman backed up a few steps, warily following the vampire's steps. He certainly didn't look very dangeroushe reminded her of someone suffering from a serious illness. I suppose he does have a serious illness, for a vampire, anyway. Still, Cordelia decided to err on the side of caution in this situation.

Gunn was no less cautious, a stake at the ready in one hand. Only Wesley, Angel and Fred seemed relaxed and calm, and Fred only because she was practically clueless at that point. The group remained where they were as Wil sat down on the last step, his eyes locked onto Angel.

"Fred, this is Wil," Angel said, pushing Fred toward the vampire.

"Wil? Hi, Wil! I'm Fred. I live here, in the hotel. I guess we're neighbors, you know, living in the same place like this, but not in the same room or anything like that. Can you cook?" Fred prattled on, nervously watching the pale blonde.

Wil listened to the woman talking, trying to make some sense of her flighty statements. Can I cook? Actually. "I'm a vampire, luv."

"Like Angel, right? Cause he's a vampire. I only know Angel; there was that other one before, but he's gone now. He was mean, but Angel ran him off."

Wil just stared at Fred, amazed at the girl's ability to talk like that. He nodded at her, hoping that not speaking would encourage her to be quiet. He didn't feel like answering questions at the moment. He was sure, though, that he'd have to before long. This crowd didn't look like the complacently accepting type.

Cordelia watched the blonde sit passively as Fred did her unwitting best to annoy the hell out of him. He didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by her, so the brunette decided to get a closer look. After all, he was still chipped. She walked over to where he sat, looking down at him, her hands propped on her hips.

"So you got yourself a soul?" She watched his face carefully.

Will looked up at the young woman. It hurt to be around her, to be around any humans. Their heat, the sound of their hearts and the blood in their veins reminded him of what a monster he was. These people, however, were much more bearable than the Slayer. Their utter purity and goodness was torture, but the emotional baggage was absent.

Cordelia watched emotions flicker through the vampire's eyes. He hadn't said a word. She squinted a little, leaning down. Something about him was very familiar. She studied his face, trying to place what it was. Eventually, the blonde looked away, staring at the floor at his feet. That was when she recognized what she saw. His eyesthey were like Angel's now. Oh, they were pure sky blue where Angel's were a rich whiskey color, but the sharp, clear, glassy look was the same. She knew what it was in Angel's eyespain, guilt, remorse, and agony. There it was, in Spike's, no, Wil's, eyes.

The blonde kept his eyes glued to the floor, hoping that the woman would go away. He remembered her from Sunnydale; she was a sarcastic, cutting thing. Xander had talked about her some as wellshe'd done a number on him. He was shocked to feel her sit down next to him and place one warm arm around his shoulders, pulling him close beside her.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Cordelia said softly.

Wil didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected much from the humans, certainly not any sort of kindness or understanding. Yet here was one of the most vocal of the lot, offering him comfort. He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Cordelia looked over at the others. Gunn was visibly annoyed at her behavior, but Angel and Wesley looked hopeful. If the seer accepted Wil, then things would go much more smoothly. "So," Cordelia began brightly, "what's up for tonight?"

"Research for you, me, Fred and Wil. Gunn and Angel need to see some contacts." Wesley handed out marching orders. "If that is acceptable to you?"

Cordelia grinned. "For now, but don't think you can keep me locked up here all the time, mister!" She stood, tugging on Wil's shoulder. "Come on, blondie. Time to hit the books." Wil looked as if he might protest, then sighed and followed her. Wesley and Fred also retreated to do research, leaving Gunn and Angel to go out.

"So what contacts need our attention right now?" Gunn asked, suspicious of Wesley's motives.

The vampire ignored the tone of Gunn's voice. "Makla Diesh called. Apparently there might be a nest of F'ml demons moving into the area. If it is true, we will need to keep an eye on them. They have a tendency to.eat children."

Gunn grunted. "Fine. We go butter up snitches and the not-so-evil undead plays tea party with Cordelia and Wesley?"

Angel sighed. "He's in no shape to go out right now. He'd be a liability at this point. Until he's better, Wil is going nowhere." The vampire hunter nodded an unwilling assent and followed Angel out into the now-darkened streets.

Cordelia watched Wil carefully as he read through a heavy volume. He'd simply sat staring at the table until she finally handed him a book and told him to take notes on it. The vampire had immediately complied, jotting down careful and painfully neat notes as he worked his way rather quickly through the book on esoteric demon lore.

Wesley was also watching Wil, but had his hands full helping Fred learn the basics of supernatural research. The young woman was exceptionally intelligent, but years of living a harsh existence had taken its toll on her sanity. Much like the vampire, however, if she could be gotten on task, she was very good at the work.

Reading and taking notes gave Wil a fairly good distraction from his current state. He poured all of his mind into the work, far more effort than it actually required. The work reminded him of his human life, where he was always surrounded by texts, both fiction and nonfiction. He used to gain great pleasure from reading, even if the stuff was work-related. Wil was somehow pleased to find that he could once again really enjoy the activity.

Several hours later, Angel and Gunn returned with news that the demons they'd been asking after had in fact moved into town. This development meant that they would have to set up regular patrols until the demons either attacked or moved on. The group argued briefly about the marked lack of clients they had at the time as Wil and Fred listened silently.

Finally, all the talk wound down. Angel sat beside Wil, carefully checking his child for signs of trouble. "Are you ok, Wil?"

Wil looked at his Sire. He was glad the older vampire was back; being here without him was uncomfortable. "Yeah. Tired though." Angel nodded.

"You'd better go to bed. Have you fed yet?" Wil shook his head. "Come on then." Angel pulled the vampire to his feet and led him to the kitchen. Once there, he retrieved some of the remaining human blood and heated it for the blonde. Will took the mug and drank it carefully, watching his Sire all the while. Angel drank the pig's blood he kept for himself.

Wil cocked his head to one side, studying his Sire. Angel looked at him, his face questioning. The younger vampire looked down nervously. "What?" Angel asked.

"Nothing. Just, well, thanks." He washed out the mug, replacing it in the cabinet. "Better get to bed.

"Yeah, you should." Angel watched Wil turn toward the door. "Wil," he said, "You know if you want to talk."

The blonde turned back to Angel and nodded briefly before going upstairs to sleep.

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Routine quickly set in for Angel and the gang. Wesley had taken an active interest in Fred. He tried repeatedly to lure her out into the world. Finally, the ex-Watcher found that her gift for research, due in great part to her academic past, had expanded to their line of work. The pair began a massive project to catalogue all the information in Angel's many texts into a reference database, which would eventually cut hours if not days off of the research end of their investigations. Wesley made sure that the project took Fred out of the hotel on a regular basis, sending her to libraries all over Los Angeles, both normal and esoteric.

Besides the normal flow of business, Angel was occupied with Wil. The vampire was quickly frustrated in his attempts to reach his childe; the blonde usually retreated into his room, blocking out all contacts. To counteract this, the older vampire strictly regimented Wil's waking hours; he set up a schedule of activities that the younger man had to complete at specific times. He made Wil keep a journal, one that he could use instead of talking directly to the brunette. Angel began teaching him different meditative techniquesones that he himself used to alleviate the suffering that came with having a soul. He also trained Wil in martial arts and combat; the blonde was a formidable fighter, but he relied too often on his vampiric speed and strength in the manner of a street fighter. With practice, Wil would become even more adept. The training also provided more control and concentration for the recovering vampire.

*****
Part 7:


5 July 2001

I am in pain. Every evil, cruel act I have ever committed, in more than 100 years
of vampiric existence, is swirling around in my head. I can see the bodies, the
rivers of blood. I can smell the entrails steaming in the night air. I feel my
victims' pain as my own. They suffered and died at my hand for naught but a
moment's pleasure. I have taken infants from their mothers' breasts and fed on
them to the musical pleas of the doomed. And I remember them all, as clearly as
if I had done it the night before. I am a monster, a parasite-beast that feeds on
darkness and life. I do not deserve to live.

Wil


- - - - - - - - - -

Angel closed the journal, resting his head on the back of the chair. Wil was suffering just as he had. Reading his childe's journal was like replaying his memories of the first months after he'd been cursed. The dark vampire replaced Wil's journal and left the room, hoping to catch his coworkers before they went home. He needed their help with the younger vampire. Wil was still unwilling to talk to him; although from his journal it was obvious he desperately needed to.

"Wes?" Angel said quietly.

The ex-Watcher picked himself up off the counter. "Yes, Angel?"

"I need some advice."

The human's eyes widened in surprise. "About what?"

"Wil," Angel said uneasily. "This may be a bad idea."

"Angel, you know I will always help you, even if I'm not sure of the outcome," Wesley reassured the vampire.

The older man grimaced. "I can't get Wil to talk to me."

"Ah." The demon hunter thought for a moment. "How did you communicate with him in the past?" Angel's face told the human all he needed to know. "I see."

"It's just that.well, when Wil was human, he was a lot like you used to be." Angel said quickly.

"Like me?" Wesley replied, his voice very calm.

"Not sure of himself, and uncomfortable with personal topics," Angel explained hastily.

Wesley relaxed. "And you want advice on how to make him talk to you?" Angel nodded guiltily. "Based on what would have worked on me when you met me, had you bothered to make an effort then?" Again, Angel nodded. The ex-Watcher paused, gathering his thoughts. "You keep asking him how he feels, don't you?"

"Yeah, and he keeps brushing me off. When he's not ignoring me completely." Angel said in frustration.

"Then don't ask him how he feels," Wesley replied. "Oh, I don't mean ignore the subject, just go at it from a different angle. If he is anything like what you've described, perhaps an intellectual approach is best. Emotions may simply be too much for him to handle."

"Oh." Angel said, taking in the information.

A thought occurred to Wesley. "He was born in Victorian England?" The vampire nodded in affirmation. "Then perhaps you should take into account those sensibilities, as well as the fact that as a human, Wil was rather well educated." Angel's face split into a grin. Indeed Wil had started out Victorian, although being turned ended that rather quickly.

"Thanks, Wes," Angel said, relieved. "I'll try it."

���...�...�...�...���

Angel pulled out Wil's journal, hoping that several days of using Wesley's approach had helped. He hoped that at least Wil had expressed more in his journal. Their conversations had been short, but in comparison to the first days the blonde had been here, they were epic in length. Still, the dark-haired vampire was unsure of his childe's progress. In some ways, Wil seemed to be recovering from the initial shock much more quickly than he had. Clearing his mind, Angel took a seat, wondering what his childe had written this time.

- - - - - - - - - -

17 July 2001

It hurts. Everything hurts. I stare at this paper, trying to find the words to
describe the pain, but I simply cannot. Indeed, are there words? This is the
English language; a language of humansevolved to describe the all-encompassing
nature of human existence. Unfortunately for me, I am not human. No matter how
hard I try to pretend, or how often I wish for it to be otherwise, I am a demon.
What I feel is not a human emotionhow could it be? Humans' souls are fundamental
to their nature. No matter the crime they commit, the blood they spill, it is
done with the soul present. Humans can rationalize what they do. I cannot take
that luxury. The lives I have taken I took with the freedom and glee of a demon;
no soul to remind me that I was infringing on another's life. Now I look back at
the blood, the tortures, and I am sickened. Not because I did themafter all, I was
a vampire, a demon, and such things were what I did. I am sickened because despite
the demon, Ithe human part of mewas still there. I took pleasure from it as well.
I enjoyed raping the innocent. I thrilled to the sight of hope lost. It was my
passion. And I am revolted because even with this soul within me, those things
still have their appeal. The idea of killing still excites me as does nothing
else. That makes me a monster.

Wil

- - - - - - - - - -

The insights rattled Angel. How had Wil picked up on that so quickly? It had taken Angel decades to see how the demon and the human had worked in concert, how the human let the demon have control. Wesley's methods seemed to be working; Wil was opening up more, at least in his writing.

Angel replaced the journal and went in search of the younger vampire. He found Wil in the library, pouring through a series of dusty texts. "Wil?"

The blonde looked up, squinting through his glasses. Angel sighed in frustration.

"Have you fed today?" Wil still had to be reminded to feed; otherwise he just forgot to do so. Angel hadn't noticed until they were sparring one day. The blonde tripped Angel, who twisted, landing on top of the younger man. It was then that Angel realized how thin Wil remained; he could feel every one of the blonde's ribs.

Wil shook his head. He'd forgotten again. "In a minute."

Angel left to warm a mug of blood for his childe. The younger vampire was, at least, following the regimen Angel had set for him. He watched carefully as his childe drank the animal's blood, noting that the blonde didn't even grimace anymore.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Angel asked hopefully.

Wil set down the mug, staring at the books. "Sure."

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- - - - - - - - - -

20 August 2001

Angel says that I should focus on redemption, that each act of good that
I commit helps balance all the evil I've done. Perhaps he is right; perhaps The
Powers That Be keep some great karmic chart with evil acts on one side and good
acts on the other. As bad as I've been, I still have less to work on than Angel.
Small consolation. I think, however, that I disagree with Angel. Having this soul
is not about my redemption. Oh, that is certainly the goaleven according to The
Powers I am working toward the elusive redemption. I would argue, though, that
redemption is not the driving force behind my working with Angel and The Powers.
Redemption implies that I might, some day, be able to balance that great karmic
debt sheet and be truly good, or that I could somehow give compensation to the
people I have hurt. It is something I cannot dothose people are long dead. I do
not see the situation in the manner that Angel does. I have been given the means
to see what I have done in my life from a different perspective. I am now working
to alleviate that same type of suffering today. Is this redemption? Nothe idea of
working toward redemption is, to me, selfish. I would be acting in a selfless
manner for a selfish goal. That defeats the purpose of having this soul and working
for The Powers. Good, the elusive thing that The Powers both are and represent, is
an end in and of itself. It is a goalto alleviate suffering by replacing Evil with
Good. I have caused great evil in my time; it is now my duty to cause great good.
I find it a far better goal than redemption. What is the point in working for the
redemption of one man when that effort can instead be spent working toward the
eradication of evil? Angel would say that my argument is semantic, that the
results are the samethe innocent people are saved. But it is not the same to me.
I cannot be so inwardly focused. I do not matter that much.

Wil

- - - - - - - - - -

Angel smiled, closing the journal gently. He had, with Wesley's help, found the way to reach his childe. Wil had been very much the intellectual as a human. In hindsight, it only made sense that the ensouled Wil would relate to the world from the same perspective. The brunette grinned, remembering how the human Wil had, at the same time, been a romantic, immersing himself in poetry and unrequited love. He wondered when that side of his childe would begin to emerge.

The older vampire was curious, though, at the differences between them. When Angel had received his soul, he did not begin to revert back to his human personality. This seemed to be what was occurring with Wil, however.

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- - - - - - - - - -

15 September 2001

I have had a soul for two and a half months. It was not until yesterday
that I noticed that I no longer notice it. At first, the weight of the thing was
a palpable presencea stone lodged just at the base of my neck, choking me of
unneeded breath. But if one bears a burden often enough, it becomes second nature.
The pain has not gone away; it still swells and crashes over me like a neap tide.
Angel's techniques help, although of course I have to alter them. I was never one
to simply take his teachings as they camealways the improviser, me. And if I never
do tai chi again it will be too soon. At least he has relented and let me substitute
that with yoga. And if you are reading this, Angel, one day I will get you on the
mat. There is a certain irony in a vampire perfecting the Sun Salutation. This is,
of course, naught but an inane preamble to my actual entry for the day. I have
been ensouled for two and a half months; I have been writing in this journal,
several times daily, for very nearly that long. And I have yet to make mention of
Buffy. I have been avoiding the subject; unlike some topics, I have the words to
describe what I feel. I loved her. Before she died, that love was built of lust
and longing; lust for the body and longing for a delicate creature stronger than
myself who fought for her passion with her whole being, consequences be damned.
Some would say a vampire loving a Slayer to be an unnatural thing. Angel is one of
those people. I am not. Slayers and vampires, are, after all, frighteningly
similar. What separates them is, in the end, their cause. The vampire is inherently selfish; most vampires do not act so much to spread evil as to satisfy
their own desires. Of course, vampiric desires are violent and bloody. Slayers are
inherently selfless; they act to protect others before themselves. The Slayer's
life is by the very nature of Slayerhood forfeit. Beyond this difference, the
Slayer and the vampire are almost identical. They live by the sword; their god
is Force. They are prone to violence and their enemies die without mercy. When a
Slayer or a vampire rules, that dominion is absolute. Such power is given up on only
one condition: death. I could continue to chronicle the similarities, but I would
rather not. Suffice to say that when I fell in love with the Slayer, it had
nothing to do with her goodness. She would have made a perfect vampire. I still
cannot punish myself for how my unsouled self loved Buffy. How else does a
creature with no soul love? I still love Buffy today. But I cannot stand to be
near her. There is a glow of purity around her that burns me. Moreover, she hates
me with a driving passion, and I cannot bring myself to torture such a good
creature by making her endure my presence. After all, who am I to think myself so
worthy as do deserve her attentions? I am a wretch, the lowest of the low, so far
from her that by all rights I should not even be able to see her. Angel, would
you consider ceasing your perusal of my journals? I find it uncomfortable for
you to have access to my private thoughts.

Wil

- - - - - - - - - -

Angel wasn't sure what shocked him more; that Wil had written about Buffy, what he had written about the girl, or that he had just been unceremoniously kicked out of Wil's journal. Even knowing what had driven his childe to accept a soul, he had underestimated the depth and nature of the younger vampire's affection for the Slayer. He had also, in the interests of helping Wil, been invading the younger man's privacy. The blonde was a very private person. Perhaps the reason that his journal entries were as they were was because Wil was reluctant to share his emotions with Angel.

Then realization hit. He'd told Wil to keep a journal because the younger vampire wouldn't talk to him. Why would Wil open up any more in a journal he knew Angel was reading? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Angel couldn't believe he'd done something that idiotic.

Resolved to correct the situation, Angel replaced the journal and left Wil's room. This would be the last time he invaded his childe's privacy.

*****
Part 8:

Wil forced himself out of his room, roused by tinkling laughter from the lobby. Rubbing his eyes like a just-woken child, he peered over the railing at the activity below. Cordelia and Fred were giggling like teenagers, rifling through a large collection of bags set on a table. After a few minutes, the blonde vampire shook off the last remnants of sleep and descended the stairs. Cordelia caught the movement in the corner of her eye and turned, smiling.

"How's everyone's favorite blonde today?" She chirped, winking for good measure.

Wil smiled softly, blushing. He was appalled at his reactions to such mild flirtations; it seemed that more and more of his pre-vampiric human nature was dominant now that he had a soul. Unfortunately, he had been extremely shy and sensitive as a human. He could still fight, and enjoyed beating up demons now that Angel actually let him help out, but the younger vampire still got flustered around others.

Cordelia smirked at the vampire. She loved making him squirm by flirting, especially since it was obvious that neither of them was interestedthey made good friends and really enjoyed teaming up against Angel, but she just couldn't help picking on Wil occasionally. "So, bleach boy, how went the beauty sleep?"

"Fine." It had taken more than three months before the nightmares had leveled off to where Will got more than a few hours of sleep each day.

"Goodie! Well, Jr., in honor of your four month soul anniversary, Fred and I, and Angel's credit card, have planned a little celebration for you!" Cordelia announced, dancing around a bit. She and Fred had gone all out for this little party.

Wil winced. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going, not at all. "Um."

Fred did not pick up on the vampire's hesitancy. "We went shopping at the mall. There are so many people at the mall, Wil. You would not believe how many people were there. And all those stores! I got this cookbook that we, you and me, can use sometime. It's got that stir-fry stuff you like so much in it, and lots and lots of chocolate recipes, and I'm sure we can work some blood in them somewhere and wouldn't you like that?"

The vampire couldn't help smiling at the young scientist. Fred never failed to elicit a grin with her incessant ramblings. "Sure, luv. Chocolate stir-fry. With blood."

As he had predicted, this set off another spate of prattling. "Chocolate stir-fry? Oh. Maybe vampires like chocolate stir-fry. I don't know if I would though. I mean, do onions and peppers go well with chocolate? Maybe you're right. Angel seems to like blood and vegetables, and you like blood and chocolate. Maybe the blood can tie in the onions and the chocolate?"

Wil choked back his laughter. He could see his Sire's face when Fred proudly presented to him freshly saut�ed vegetables in a blood-and-chocolate sauce. "You do that, Fred. I'm sure Angel would love it."

"You! Some day Angel's going to get back at the two of you for that stuff!" The pair looked at her with innocent, we-didn't-do-anything faces. "Anyway, Fred, help me carry this stuff up to Wil's room." The two girls gathered up the bags and herded the vampire back up the stairs.

Wil began poking through the bags immediately. "Hells, Delia, what did you buy, the entire department store?"

The ex-cheerleader laughed. "Nope. Just the menswear department. Not to be insulting or anything, but the whole 'black on black' look is so.ugh."

The vampire turned toward her, one eyebrow cocked. "And you took it upon yourself to change that?"

She grinned evilly. "Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Have a problem with that?"

Wil looked at the bags of clothes, then down at himself. Looking back at the clothes, he sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to win this, am I?"

"No. Don't even bother."

"Fine." He flopped down on the bed in defeat.

Cordelia cheered. "Fred, you need to start dinner. No chocolate stir-fry!" The young woman laughed and headed down to the industrial kitchen that Angel had had restored in the basement.

"Ok, buster, up off the bed. We've got work to do." The vampire obediently got up off the bed, standing in front of the brunette. "Strip." Wil stared at her, unaware that his mouth was hanging open. Cordelia burst into laughter. "Gotta love Victorian modesty! Here," She pitched him his bathrobe. "We need to do your hair, root-boy."

Wil ran a hand through his hair. He was sure that he had truly wretched roots at the moment; he'd neither bleached it nor had it cut since he'd arrived in L.A.. The vampire followed Cordelia into the bathroom, sitting on the commode as she indicated. It was then that he caught sight of the box she had in her hands. It was definitely not bleach.

"What's that?" He asked suspiciously.

Cordelia looked down at him innocently. "What? Oh, this? Hair dye."

"Not bleach." He tried to read the label through her fingers. "What is that?"

The seer thought about trying to fudge her way out of it, but figured that it wouldn't work. "Dye. I think it's close to your natural color, judging by your roots."

"My natural color?" Wil said weakly. He'd been white-blonde since the stuff had hit the market, and had grown accustomed to the color. "I like it."

"You don't have to look at it. I do. We all do. You don't even have a reflection. Besides, the blonde clashes with your new clothes."

Wil considered. Why the hell not? "Ok."

"Well the, let's get this dog-and-pony show on the road!" Within moments, the pair was engrossed in a heated discussion about karaoke and the likelihood that they could get Angel to sing Tom Jones, all the while up to their elbows in hair color.

"All done!" Cordelia stepped back from the vampire, admiring her work. The former peroxide-abuser tentatively ran his fingers through his hair, obviously wondering what he looked like. Smiling, the young woman rummaged through her purse, extracting a Polaroid camera.

"Vampire mirror. Smile for the birdie." Wil looked up at her just in time to catch the flash. He was still rubbing his eyes when she waved the now-developed picture at him. "Well?"

Wil took the picture, unsure of whether he wanted to look. What he saw brought back memories. He'd almost forgotten what he looked like as a human, but the figure in the photograph was very close to that. Other than the unnaturally pale skin and modern clothes, the timid lawyer was right there. Honey-colored curls, angelic blue eyes peering through wire-rimmed glasses, and soft, conservative clothes. He smiled thoughtfully. It was nice, he thought. Not to be back like he was, but to be somewhere. Somewhere that wasn't the bloodthirsty killer he used to be.

Cordelia was surprised when Wil enveloped her in a tight hug. "Thanks, luv."

"No prob. Just remember to take care of the clothes. No nasty demon goo on mohair. Now come on, I'm sure Fred's got dinner ready, and I heard the guys get back a while ago."

.........

Angel and Wesley watched Fred scurry around the dining room, nervously arranging and rearranging things. The eating area had been a pet project of her and Wil's, ever since the young woman had taken to making the newly ensouled vampire help her relearn how to cook. The other employees of Angel Investigations had taken great delight in watching Wil suffer though being dragged into the kitchen on a daily basis, at least until they had experienced the fruits of those labors. As it turned out, Wil could cook. Very well. In a few short months, he had turned Fred into a very good cook, although she did have a tendency to make.interesting substitutions when a called-for ingredient was unavailable. She also tried to work blood into almost everything.

"Oh! That looks great! I knew you knew what you were doing, Cordelia," Fred said excitedly, rushing over to the door.

Angel turned to watch the girl. Then he saw Wil. The vampire thought he was hallucinating. His childe looked like a modern version of the human he'd once been. Gone were the plain black clothes and painfully blonde hair. The man in front of him was dressed in loose gray flannel slacks and a cream-colored pullover, accenting his pale skin and honey-colored hair. Cordovan loafers and delicate glasses perched on his face completed the image of a thoughtful, educated academic. Wil looked like he'd be at home at University, not a demonic investigations business.

"Wil?" Angel whispered.

"'Allo Angel. Delia thought you'd like to buy me something for anniversary." Wil smirked. He liked knocking his sire for a loop.

"Anniversary?"

"Soulfour months and counting."

"Oh."

"You know, you can carry on the single-word conversation over dinner." Cordelia herded the others toward the table where Fred had laid out supper.

Wesley pulled out a chair for Fred. "I must say, Wil, that you look.very nice. Much improved."

"Thanks, I think. Blame it on Delia." He winked at the ex-cheerleader, who just grinned in response.

"You know you love it, so just hush."

The playful banter continued through the meal, which was good and did not include the feared chocolate and blood stir-fry, although Fred did manage to scare Cordelia briefly by mentioning it. All too soon it was time for business to start and fun to end, however. The end of the party came abruptly when Cordelia suffered a vision. Wesley, Angel and Wil all rushed to her side, Angel catching her as she slid out of her chair.

"Wes, get a glass of water. Cordelia?" Angel asked worriedly.

"Aack. Um.Big, hairy guys, lots of horns, red eyes. They've got kids.it looks like some sort of ritualthey're gonna kill the kids," Cordelia mumbled, still in the throes of the vision.

"Where? How many?" Wesley asked.

"Four, no, five. Mmm.Warehouse district, the old Percy building. You guys better hurry." She sat up, pushing away from Angel, the vision over. "Go!" The brunette shooed the men out of the dining room, brandishing a glass of water.

"Are you sure? One of us could stay." Wesley offered.

"Fred's here. Besides, Gunn's not here, is he? You'll be shorthanded." She pushed the trio out the door and toward the weapons room. "Wes, you might want to look them up before you go, though. They look like Chewbacca on a bad hair day. With horns. Lots of big, curvy horns."

"Right. Hairy, horny demons." Wesley began rummaging through books.

"Kragrlange demons," Wil said softly, pulling down the appropriate text.

"Hmm.what?" Wesley asked, turning toward the vampire. "How do you know?"

"Tall, long-haired demons with six to seven brittle horns curving outward from the skull, "Wil read from the text.

"Yes, but that also describes half a dozen other species."

"But the other species you're referring to won't touch humans. Besides, I've seen Kragrlange demons. They do look like Chewbacca on a bad hair day. They're tough buggers, though. We'll need copper blades."

The ex-watcher considered the situation for a minute, and then nodded. If Wil thought that that was what their demons were, then so be it. He hadn't been wrong yet. "Angel?"

The dark-haired vampire poked his head into the library. "What?"

"Copper blades. They're Kragrlange demons." Wesley's eyebrows rose at the livid curses that burst from Angel's mouth. "Not your favorite?"

"No. Wil, didn't you run into some of them with Dru a while back?" Angel gave an apologetic shrug at the mention of this mad childe. Wil did not like being reminded of his century with Drusilla the Mad.

"Yeah. If I recall correctly, I ran away screaming like a girl," He said, burying his face into a book, hiding his blush. Soul or no, it was humiliating to admit to such a cowardly action.

"You ran away? I don't like this. I thought you'd enjoy the bloodbath," Wes said anxiously.

Wil did not reply, choosing instead to continue reading through the text he was holding. "Um, Angel?" The blonde waited for his Sire's attention. "Says here that these demons are strong magic users."

"Great! Anything else? Maybe connections to Wolfram & Hart?" Angel said sarcastically.

"Umm.they do have a tendency to align themselves with the dominant organized evil in a given area.which would be our second favorite demonic lawyers," Wil summarized from the book.

"Second favorite?" Cordelia said from the doorway, looking much improved. "Who's our first favorite?"

"Me, luv," Wil said, peeking over the top of his book. Cordelia flashed a smile at him even as Wesley groaned.

"You haven't practiced law in over a century, Wil."

"Doesn't mean I haven't kept up, does it?"

"Boys, boys. Demons, children, work to do?" Angel said, hefting a stack of copper weaponry. The trio exited the hotel amidst various moans and groans, hoping that for the first time ever, Cordelia's visions would prove to be wrong.

*****

Parts 9, 10 & 11

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